It was the next day when Onyxia saw Arthas return from Molten Core.
The entire Blackwing Lair was sealed off, and few Dragons besides Onyxia knew about the passage of time outside.
Thassarian could also know, but the passage of time was meaningless to a dead man; he had lost interest in time at some point.
Without needing rest, food, or feeling fear, a Death Knight was the perfect soldier, lacking only in perception of the living world, yet those shortcomings were, for combat, advantages.
After a brief adaptation, Thassarian felt he had grown to like this form.
The only minor inconvenience was that he couldn't meet his family for the time being—but if he joined the Kingdom's special forces, this aspect would naturally be restricted anyway.
He just needed to know that the person he followed was still Arthas, and that he still fought for the Kingdom and for humanity.
The Prince had always been very busy, especially recently; he knew the Alliance was fighting certain powerful evil forces, and as Lordaeron's commander, the Prince must be personally fighting on the front lines.
He only regretted that he couldn't join the battlefield yet, but he had a premonition that the day they would once again gallop across the battlefield was not far off.
The Scourge was no longer dormant; it had begun to resume activity, though it was much more restrained than during Ner'zhul's rule and no longer solely aimed to turn all living beings into Undead.
Arthas's personal arrival excited Thassarian; he saluted Arthas and then retreated to the side.
Onyxia also noticed Arthas's arrival, but she tidied her appearance and slowly rose from her seat, "Oh, my dear Master, you must have dealt with that irritable Firelord who likes to wield a big hammer."
"Something like that, but that fellow hasn't been completely annihilated; he'll make a comeback sooner or later," Arthas said indifferently, showing no excitement of victory.
"Make a comeback? You jest. There shouldn't be a second fool Thaurissan in this world."
"No fools, but there are madmen, or other individuals with abnormal motives—this world is never short of such troubles."
After speaking, Arthas sighed lightly, "Let's not talk about that for now. Ragnaros will indeed not reappear in the real plane for a short time, but that doesn't mean our troubles are over.
Or rather, Ragnaros's defeat indirectly reminded us of our greatest enemy."
Onyxia's expression tightened. She knew who Arthas's "enemy" referred to, and that was the root of her nightmare—her father's madness.
"Old Gods... are you saying they already know of our existence?"
"They might have known for a long time," Arthas looked at Onyxia expressionlessly, which instantly paled the Black Dragon Princess's face.
For a moment, Onyxia was teary-eyed and sorrowful; practically no human male could remain unmoved by her display.
However, Arthas, who knew Onyxia inside and out, remained completely unfazed; who knew how much of this act was genuine and how much was feigned? But since it involved the Old Gods and Deathwing, it was impossible for Onyxia not to be afraid at all; only a mix of truth and falsehood could make the performance convincing.
"Your tears might move Bolvar, but they're useless on me, Onyxia. Do your job well; as long as you don't seek your own death, the Old Gods can't do anything to you for now," Arthas said.
"But... my father..." Onyxia still said, wiping her tears.
"If you're worried about being purged by Deathwing, then do things cleanly and don't leave any loose ends. As long as you don't actively provoke him, he won't have time to bother with you."
Arthas waved his hand; Deathwing was indeed an unavoidable serious threat, but Arthas would not give him the chance to tear the earth apart. Ragnaros's defeat both served as a warning to the Old Gods and helped Arthas open a door.
Thunderaan's essence was in his hands, and this Windlord had already absorbed the remaining power of Ragnaros; with just a ritual, he could return from the wind.
When the time was right, Arthas planned to strike first, keeping Deathwing perpetually confined to his recuperation place, never to have another chance to return to Azeroth.
After the casual conversation, Arthas noticed that Tulani was not in the laboratory, so he asked, "Where is that Draenei?"
"She's undergoing her daily routine check-up to prevent adverse reactions from different planets, but it seems she's adapting very well. Since coming to Azeroth, her physical burden has actually been greatly reduced."
Onyxia was not clear about the current state of Outland. Although her mother and father had both been to Outland and carried out a series of schemes there, she knew very little about Outland's information.
She only understood some basic situations, but judging from the complex energy remaining in Tulani's body, the current situation in Outland was probably very bad.
"Don't underestimate the Draenei race. Although it's not apparent from Tulani, they once possessed a civilization no less, or even far superior to, the Night Elves, and they didn't have the Well of Eternity," Arthas explained the history of the Draenei. "Compared to them, the civilizations on our planet are, at best, in their 'childhood' stage."
"Your Majesty," Thassarian's voice came from outside, "The person you were looking for has returned."
Tulani stood at the doorway. Her original priestly robes had been damaged in battle, and she was now wearing robes Onyxia had given her, but the Draenei's tall stature made the robes less than a perfect fit.
The Soulbinder's eyes were full of caution. This was the first human she had seen, besides "Katrana," after spending several days in Blackrock Spire, and a living one at that.
Of course, Onyxia was not human at all, but at least she maintained a human form.
But this still made Tulani question Arthas's identity. Was he a monster transformed into a human... or what?
"Soulbinder Tulani, I am Arthas Menethil, and I am the one who healed your injuries."
Facing Tulani, Arthas became a bit more amiable, which somewhat displeased Onyxia: Arthas never had a pleasant expression when he faced her.
"You... you're human? What is your purpose in bringing me here?"
Although clumsy, Arthas still understood Tulani's Common Tongue. It seemed the Draenei hadn't been idle during this time.
"I am indeed a human. As for the purpose—or rather, the reason—for bringing you here, you'll know if you follow me and see for yourself."
With that, Arthas walked out of the laboratory. Tulani looked at the departing Arthas, then at Onyxia, who nodded, signaling her to follow.
However, Onyxia did not follow; instead, Thassarian followed behind Tulani, seemingly to "monitor" her.
As Arthas moved through the halls of Blackwing Lair, the remaining Black Dragonflight and a portion of the Blackrock Orcs who had pledged allegiance to Onyxia were collecting the alchemical materials left behind by Nefarian.
Those of value would be sent to Icecrown Citadel for further research, while those without value, or those that might cause major trouble, would be directly destroyed in Blackwing Lair.
Looking at the coming and going Dragonmen and orcs, Tulani instinctively felt some fear and hostility, for it was those orcs who had massacred her people and destroyed Draenor.
However, the orcs here were not interested in a Draenei; in fact, many of them were second-generation orcs born after the orcs came to Azeroth, and having been ruled by Rend and Nefarian, they were not concerned with matters of old Draenor.
Some among them knew of the Draenei's existence, but they merely glanced with slight surprise and continued with their work.
Although the boss had changed, Onyxia, like Nefarian, was also a Black Dragon. In fact, due to Arthas's orders, her demands were much stricter than Nefarian's, though she was not as capricious and unpredictable as Nefarian.
Undoubtedly, the Blackrock Orcs held the lowest position within the Black Dragonflight in Blackwing Lair, but because they had once been directly subordinate to Nefarian, their status among the Blackrock Orcs was quite esteemed.
After spending a few days in Blackwing Lair and discovering that not all orcs were as bloodthirsty and insane as those she had encountered, Tulani's mood had somewhat calmed.
However, passing through the hall filled with orcs and Dragonmen still made the Draenei quite uncomfortable, and with a Death Knight following behind, Tulani involuntarily quickened her pace to keep up with Arthas.
For some reason, the aura emanating from Arthas made Tulani feel a strange sense of security. Although she had already categorized Arthas as "not a good person," Tulani was still willing to stay closer to Arthas.
In other words... Arthas's perfect face and physique, like they were meticulously carved by a master craftsman, were pleasing to Tulani, even with her different race and aesthetic sensibilities.
Of course, Tulani's willingness to approach Arthas wasn't just for this; she also felt a subtle influence on Arthas... This was very similar to the power of the Holy Light, but the Soulbinder was unwilling to believe that a person referred to as Master and Your Majesty by "evil creatures" would be under the Holy Light's protection.
Soon, the three passed through the hall of Blackwing Lair and arrived before the terrace gate that Nefarian had once occupied. Under Arthas's command, the Dragonmen opened the sealed terrace gate.
As the iron gate rose, Tulani felt a somewhat dry and hot wind blow in.
Traces of Valastrasz and Chromaggus's battle still remained on the terrace, uncleaned, and the passages connecting to more areas of Hordemar City had collapsed due to the intense fighting.
Arthas knew that behind those two passages was Nefarian's hidden "laboratory," the place he called Blackwing Descent, but Arthas was unsure if Blackwing Descent had been utilized by Nefarian yet.
He had been busy dealing with Ragnaros recently and had not yet interrogated Nefarian's soul, so he wasn't very clear about Blackwing Descent. But in any case, as a laboratory filled with madness and bloodshed, it would not be too safe inside.
"You seem very silent?"
"What exactly do you want to show me?" Tulani said this time in Draenei, and her wristband translated it into Common Tongue.
"Haven't you always wanted to know why you were confined here, away from the light? Now, the reason is before you." Arthas stretched his hand towards the outer edge of the terrace. Tulani hesitated for a moment, then still took steps and walked over.
But the closer she got to the edge of the terrace, the closer to the sky, a sense of dread suddenly rose in Tulani's heart. She seemed to realize something but did not stop; instead, she quickened her pace.
When she almost rushed to the outer edge of the terrace, standing beneath the sky obscured by gradually thinning volcanic ash, the black scorched earth that met her eyes, and the sky still bearing faint orange-Rend flame traces, made Tulani feel a momentary dizziness.
—She wasn't on Draenor anymore?!
Tulani had not personally walked every inch of Draenor, but the Draenei were a race that valued culture and heritage. They had recorded every plant and tree they had seen during their centuries of residence on Draenor, keeping them in archives for their brethren to consult and read.
She didn't even need those various records; Tulani understood everything when she realized there was no gradually cracking sky and earth.
Her legs weakened, but she managed to hold onto the Black Iron railing, not kneeling on the ground, yet a sense of unfamiliarity instantly overwhelmed her.
Tulani was certain that she had left that broken world and arrived on a brand new planet, and she was very likely the only Draenei on this world.
After a brief moment of being lost and distraught, Tulani immediately reacted—she had seen orcs and humans, did that mean this was the planet the orcs had invaded, the home of the Alliance's expeditionary forces?
For a moment, questions and confusion filled Tulani's heart. After countless unimaginable painful experiences, this was the first time she had felt this way.
Was it the secret joy of escaping a land where life was gradually fading? Or the shame of being far from her friends and kin?
She looked at Arthas with a complex gaze, hoping for an answer to resolve the confusion in her heart.
Arthas did not hide anything. He spread his arms, and beneath the black and Rend clouds of the Burning Steppes, he slowly uttered, "Welcome to Azeroth."