Kel'Thuzad read the contents of the book with magical speed, and his expression gradually became one of anticipation.
"As expected of the Guardian's legacy, this increases the success rate of our operation by at least twenty percent." Kel'Thuzad hung the book on the chain at his waist.
Lothar asked casually, "What kind of book is this, that it can be so useful?"
The Lich, while rapidly drawing complex patterns in the void with his finger bones, replied, "This book is Medivh's research record on void demons. The magic recorded within is almost entirely related to demons."
After completing the first magic circle, the Lich's finger bones paused for a moment. He chuckled and continued, "Of course, this can't compare to what's recorded in Medivh's book, but it's still a forbidden book in Dalaran and would be immediately contained or destroyed."
"The knowledge within is extremely useful when we are fighting against demons," Kel'Thuzad etched another section of patterns with extremely high efficiency. "Mal'Ganis's death has made those demons more vigilant. I suspect that not all of the Dreadlords will descend this time."
"If that's truly the case, then how will we retake Naxxramas?" Lothar asked.
"There are some extremely valuable materials in Naxxramas, which the demons seemed to have prepared to summon a certain entity to descend, but since they never managed to get Medivh's book, they couldn't complete the ritual."
"I think the Dreadlords probably wouldn't want to collect those materials again, which might be impossible to find." Kel'Thuzad's laughter was very harsh, yet full of pleasure. "If they left someone in Naxxramas, that guy would definitely flee with the items rather than face the Lich King's wrath."
"And if they all show up, that's a dead end."
Ogrim's voice carried a hint of killing intent. He had always disliked warlocks and demons. The Orc had always believed that Gul'dan and his fel had destroyed Draenor.
And indeed, that was the case.
The magic in Kel'Thuzad's hand was nearing completion. This time, he spoke solemnly to the two Death Knights, "I will need to concentrate on maintaining this magic later to prevent the Dreadlords from escaping or calling for reinforcements. The fighting can only be left to you."
Lothar grinned, "Don't worry, we've done this more than once—but if you ask me, our Your Majesty should really find us more 'colleagues.' It's still a bit difficult for just the two of us to do all the work."
"I'll figure something out, Sir Lothar."
Arthas's voice rang out behind Lothar, and the sudden response made Lothar freeze, creating an awkward situation.
However, Arthas didn't mind Lothar's "discussing his superior" behavior. His presence this time was merely to ensure that there wouldn't be a shortage of combat power when facing the Dreadlords head-on.
"What's the situation in the town now?" Arthas took the crystal ball that Kel'Thuzad used to monitor the town into his hand and asked as he linked his vision.
"The Necromancers are preparing the summoning ritual. Thassarian is on standby there, ready to deliver a fatal blow to the descending demons at any moment."
Arthas nodded. At least for now, everything was proceeding as he expected. Even if he couldn't kill all of the Nathrezim today, he had to ensure they would no longer have the ability to cause trouble in the Eastern Kingdoms.
Once they were driven to Kalimdor and reunited with Tichondrius, Arthas would be able to gather his strength and wipe them out completely.
The only problem was that he didn't know where Tichondrius was in Kalimdor or what he was doing. That land held too many undiscovered secrets, providing Tichondrius with too much room to maneuver.
Even Lordaeron's informants couldn't be spread throughout every corner of Kalimdor. If they truly could, Arthas felt he wouldn't need to rely on the Scourge.
Lothar, riding an undead warhorse, walked beside Arthas. These undead creatures existed between spirit and physical form, able to dimensional travel between the material plane and the Shadowlands.
The Grand Marshal was also very curious about Arthas's strength. He had never seen Arthas fight and could only guess at Arthas's true power from various indirect observations.
In Caer Darrow, Arthas had only displayed his power at the very end when controlling the Black Dragon Princess's soul. Lothar and Ogrim were both curious about the true strength of this young prince, the monarch of the undead.
Just as Arthas and his companions were making their way to the town, the Necromancers' summoning ritual in Naxxramas was nearing its final stage.
A portion of souls was sacrificed to the summoning ritual, allowing the demons to disregard the spatial differences in the real world and quickly descend here.
However, halfway through the ritual, one of the younger Necromancers muttered, "These souls... why is there no reaction after they're sacrificed?"
Logically, these spirits should struggle violently during the process of being eroded by magic. He was responsible for suppressing the soul's backlash, but now, the souls were disturbingly quiet.
It was as if they weren't performing the ritual with living souls, but with artificially created soul crystals.
"Hmph, the souls here have faced a terrible disaster. They are already numb to any stimulus, so it's not strange for them to show no reaction." The older Necromancer, on the other hand, didn't find it strange. He had seen too many things in his life and was long accustomed to it.
"So that's how it is," the young Necromancer nodded, feeling he had learned something new.
"Alright, no more idle chatter. Pay attention to the stability of the magic circle. If anything goes wrong, we'll all be in trouble together." Another Necromancer interrupted their conversation.
After being admonished by their companion, the Necromancers all focused on the ritual. They could already feel it: the Dreadlords had answered their call.
After the green fel flames dissipated, Balnazzar swept away the ritual items blocking his way and stretched his body. "Ah, it feels great to breathe fresh air."
"Don't tell me you actually like 'fresh air.' That's quite disgusting," Varimathras surveyed the ruins of the town. "Besides, what fresh air is there to speak of in these desolate ruins?"
"Enough talk. Our mission is to quickly find the source of the energy. Your work here is done, Necromancers." Balnazzar impatiently gave orders to his subordinates.
But as he spread his wings, intending to leave this place, a sensation of extreme discomfort and restraint came over him. He felt his wings become incredibly heavy, unable to take flight at all.
"What? An anti-flight magic circle?!"
Balnazzar immediately reacted, but before he could do anything more, the neigh of a warhorse came from the void. The black knight pierced through the Necromancer's formation like a sharp sword.
Two mages fell to the ground without any chance to resist, the Death Knight's blade precisely striking their necks.
"Damn it, Death Knights? How are they here?!"