On the watchtower of the Ring of Blood arena, Sabelian paced back and forth, occasionally looking up at the hazy sky of Blade's Edge Mountains with a gloomy expression.
This Black Dragon was clearly very anxious, and the reason for his anxiety was simple: the Scourge's power was much stronger than he had imagined, and the Bladetooth Ogre alone could not stop their overwhelming momentum.
Why would such a terrifying undead Legion suddenly appear in Outland? And specifically in the Blade's Edge Mountains where he was staying?
Sabelian couldn't understand it, but he was now facing a dilemma. He had helped the Ogre kill some Gargoyles and deliberately thrown the Gargoyle remains into the Ogre's territory to further incite conflict between the Scourge and the Ogre.
However, now that the conflict was incited, the results were not as expected. The undead naxxanar, which had once acted cautiously, almost crushed all forms of Ogre resistance, and the Bladetooth Ogre had already reached the point of utter collapse.
But the undead, with a strange understanding, did not continue to approach Gruul's lair; it was as if they knew there was a short-tempered Gronn patriarch there.
The defeat and death of the outer Ogres did not affect the Bladetooth Ogre near Gruul's lair; as long as the iron hooves of the undead army had not invaded their territory, they would not take action.
In other words, if Sabelian didn't do something soon, the tide of undead would quickly surround the Ring of Blood. Although he had deceived the Ogre, he didn't think he could deceive the Scourge, who were extremely sensitive to living beings.
Moreover, he clearly knew that among the Scourge were Liches, Necromancers, and various other spellcasters, and the magic he had set up around the Ring of Blood could easily attract their attention.
Now he either abandons the Black Dragon corpses he has collected and gives up his plan for revenge against the Gronn and flees, or he stays here, risking the immense danger of being discovered by the Scourge.
But Sabelian was very unwilling; he had plotted in the Blade's Edge Mountains for so long just to eliminate all of Gruul's offspring and make that foolish beast also experience the pain of losing his children and lineage. Was he now to flee in disgrace?
The arrogance and conceit of a Dragon became a shackles binding Sabelian. If he were an ordinary human, he would most likely flee without hesitation, but as a Dragon, he found it utterly unacceptable to accept his own failure and a shameful escape.
So, in his anxiety and unease, Sabelian kept numbing himself, hypnotizing himself: perhaps the undead wouldn't care about a long-abandoned arena, and if he just waited, he might still be able to further escalate the conflict between the undead and the Ogre.
However, the black wings obscuring the sky above the Ring of Blood made Sabelian almost forget his predicament.
"Sabelian, stop hiding. I know you're in this dilapidated arena."
Onyxia flapped her massive wings, her enormous body almost covering half the arena in her shadow. The Black Dragon Princess let out deep roars, which in the ears of another Dragon were precisely the words she wished to convey.
"Onyxia?! Why is she here?"
Sabelian looked at Onyxia's figure, slightly dazed. After confirming that this was not his illusion and that he had not fallen under some kind of spell, he was momentarily indecisive.
He didn't know why Onyxia would appear in a place where she shouldn't possibly be, but unusual occurrences always signify something sinister. As an adult Dragon who had lived for countless years, he understood this principle very well.
The cunning nature of a Black Dragon prevented him from naively treating Onyxia as aid. Although conversations between Black Dragons naturally tend to be a bit "crude," he could hear the hostility in Onyxia's tone as long as he wasn't deaf.
He also knew that this Black Dragon Princess would absolutely not like him, so he certainly wouldn't be foolish enough to jump out.
But before Sabelian could even attempt to sneak away, Onyxia raised her head in the sky, and her chest suddenly swelled.
Sabelian's eyelids twitched, and almost instinctively, he dropped his shapeshift. And at the same time, a black-red flame, encompassing half the arena and carrying a shockwave, plunged straight down. The stone and wood towers and walls were instantly engulfed by the flames, and a raging inferno easily swept over where Sabelian had been standing.
Amidst continuous rumbling, half the arena was reduced to ruins in the flames. Towering structures and walls continuously collapsed, but amidst the rubble, wood splinters, and burning architectural fragments, a pair of wings even larger than Onyxia's suddenly spread open. A powerful Dragon body pushed aside the ruins, and Sabelian's true Dragon form stood in the flames, his vertical Dragon pupils filled with rage.
"You ruined my plan. Even if you are Lord Neltharion's daughter, you should pay the price for this."
A low roar stirred a wave of sound, even making the flames flicker—just as Onyxia said, Sabelian possessed power no less than a direct descendant of Deathwing. He did not fear the Black Dragon Princess and even intended to make her pay for her actions without hesitation.
But Onyxia was not flustered. Even if she wasn't Sabelian's match in a one-on-one fight, she wasn't alone… a single Dragon.
She was merely there to lure Sabelian out; the real battle wouldn't require her to personally intervene.
However, Onyxia didn't forget her "mission." She still spoke with feigned indifference, "A coward hiding in an Ogre building? You keep talking about avenging the Black Dragonflight and avenging our great father, yet after all this time, you're still hiding here, accomplishing nothing?"
"You understand nothing! Gruul's power is something even adult Dragons must temporarily avoid, but if it weren't for those meddling undead and your foolish and reckless actions, my plan would have been carried out, and those Gronn would sooner or later pay the price for their actions."
Sabelian's nostrils snorted hot air. This Black Dragon was already getting impatient. His plans had been disrupted time and again; even the most good-tempered person would get angry, let alone a Black Dragon whose will had been corrupted by the Old Gods and was inherently short-tempered.
The actions of the undead had already caused a significant deviation in his original plans, and then Onyxia's breath directly exposed his existence to the ears and eyes of the Ogre and the undead. How could he not be angry?
"Before Gruul appears, I'd be happy to teach you a lesson for my master first." Sabelian knew that once he appeared, Gruul wouldn't stay in his lair. But before Gruul arrived, he had ample time to teach Onyxia a lesson and, incidentally, vent his anger on those undead.
And so, this Black Dragon flapped his wings, his oppressive body rising from the ground. A pair of pupils, no different from those of a cold-blooded animal, stared intently at Onyxia. Within his ferocious upper and lower jaws, a destructive power was coalescing.
However, before this scorching Dragon breath could be spewed forth, an ice-blue ray of light suddenly shot out from amidst the flames and ruins, piercing directly towards Sabelian's heart.
A Dragon's intuition immediately alerted Sabelian to the danger. He forcibly suppressed his Dragon breath and performed an emergency evasion in mid-air.
But the speed of that light was too fast; even with his best efforts to dodge, it still left terrible wounds on his abdomen and one of his wings.
Amidst scales and blood splattering, Sabelian's Dragon body tilted to one side, the injury to his wing instantly reducing his balance in the air.
Onyxia's eyes lit up, and she plunged forward without hesitation, spewing another line of fire in the direction of Sabelian's fall, directly hitting Sabelian's already injured wing.
Sabelian let out a wail, "You! You betrayed us?! You joined those filthy undead?!"
Onyxia's Dragon breath had almost scorched half of his wing, and that blue stream of light not only injured his physical body but also left his spirit listless, making him unable to pay attention to Onyxia's pursuit. He immediately understood that a part of his soul had been severed by that "sword"! And the Ogre clearly wouldn't have such technology; that sword belonged to the Scourge!
Sabelian died, quite simply, without any complications.
Onyxia was weaker than Sabelian, but not by much; a sneak attack from an adult dragon combined with Frostmourne made ending another dragon's life incredibly easy.
Arthas didn't even personally attend; he was still in Naxxanar, observing and directing the Scourge's conquest of Ogre territory and preparing for the potential appearance of Gruul.
Frostmourne was brought by Onyxia to the Ring of Blood, where the scorching dragon breath was used to mask Frostmourne's original aura, allowing it to suddenly erupt from the ruins and severely wound Sabelian.
The injured Sabelian was no match for Onyxia, not to mention Frostmourne constantly striking him; soon, the powerful Black Dragonflight could only die with hatred.
However, Sabelian's desperate struggle also left Onyxia somewhat wounded; not only did she lose many scales, but there were also several shocking blood marks on her slender dragon neck, seemingly from a claw strike by Sabelian.
Upon learning of Sabelian's demise, Arthas also arrived at the Ring of Blood arena with a group of Necromancers; the nearby Ogres had already been cleared, and Sabelian's corpse was placed in the open space within the Ring of Blood.
The Necromancers summoned low-level skeletons and zombies to clear the ruins and drag the massive dragon corpse for the ritual.
Onyxia remained in her dragon form, lying behind Arthas, while several Gargoyles cleaned her wounds with various items; she was a bit dejected, despite getting the first strike and having Frostmourne's help, she still ended up so disheveled.
"Why don't you change back to human form?" Arthas glanced at the obediently lying Onyxia. "Are you afraid I'll dislike you for having a wound on your neck even as a human?"
"No... no, it's just that wounds heal faster in dragon form," Onyxia said in a muffled voice. She really wasn't suited for combat...
Those wounds only looked scary; compared to Onyxia's massive size, they were merely minor injuries.
However, seeing that Arthas had no intention of scolding her, she slightly raised her head and whispered, "Sabelian's strength lived up to his reputation; he might have been my father's most powerful subordinate."
"Then it seems your father is truly mad, sending his strongest subordinate to do some inexplicable trivial things in the Outland." Arthas waved his hand, dismissing the Gargoyles, and examined the wound on Onyxia's neck; a gentle light glowed in his hand. "Lower your head."
Onyxia paused, then obediently lowered her neck as close to the ground as possible, to a position where Arthas could just reach it.
A tingling sensation, accompanied by a slight itch, came from the wound on her neck; Onyxia resisted the urge to scratch it with her dragon claws.
The sensation lasted only a very short time before Arthas lowered his hand. Onyxia said in surprise, "It's over?"
"It's over. It wasn't a serious wound to begin with."
Arthas's attention shifted from Onyxia's fully recovered neck back to Sabelian's corpse.
This caused Onyxia's dragon head to stiffen—was she really less appealing than a dragon corpse?
Feeling insulted, Onyxia ignored her other 'abrasion'-level minor injuries and directly reverted to human form, surprising the Gargoyles who were holding tools and preparing to continue cleaning her wounds.
"On second thought, Sabelian turning into a Bone Dragon would be good," the charming Countess, transformed from Onyxia, stood to one side behind Arthas, saying this with a hint of gritted teeth.
Arthas casually replied, "Are you holding a grudge against him for hurting you? Hmm... but I actually don't plan on turning him into a Bone Dragon anymore."
Onyxia was puzzled by this; why was the Lich King making such a fuss? Wasn't all this trouble for Sabelian?
"A newly deceased adult Black Dragonflight, directly stripping away its flesh and blood, leaving only dragon sinews and bones to resurrect as a Bone Dragon, would be a bit too wasteful." Arthas had only just discovered this detail, after all, this was only the second dragon to die by his hand.
Last time, Nefarian's identity was very special; handing his corpse over to Malygos would be of greater use, and at that time, Arthas's identity was the commander of the Alliance's allied forces, so it wasn't appropriate to engage in Bone Dragon resurrection; besides preserving Nefarian's soul, he didn't do much else.
Now, having the opportunity to carefully study Sabelian's corpse, Arthas realized that directly resurrecting a newly deceased dragon into a Bone Dragon seemed to waste its potential.
Arthas drew Frostmourne, gripping the hilt with one hand while slowly stroking the blade with the other; a blue-glowing mist was pulled from the blade, and a phantom of a giant dragon continuously surged and roared within the mist, trying to break free from Arthas's restraint.
However, even living dragons were no match for Arthas; after death, with only their souls remaining, it was even harder to escape Arthas's grasp.
"You see, without protection, a truly corrupted and fallen Black Dragonflight, even after death, its soul cannot rest," Arthas said, while several dark purple mists intermingled with the blue soul halo, appearing and disappearing.
Onyxia stared at Sabelian's soul for a long time, realizing that he seemed to have almost no remaining sanity besides anger and fury; and each time he was suppressed by Arthas's power, just as he was about to briefly calm down, those dark purple energies seemed to prick Sabelian's soul like thorns, making him continue to howl in pain.
"The corruption of the Old Gods runs so deep, it even surprises me; this corruption makes it difficult for a creature to return to peace even after death," Arthas said, holding Sabelian's soul. "Aside from completely annihilating it, there's basically no way to separate this corruption."
After speaking, Arthas gave Onyxia a meaningful look. "So you understand how uniquely blessed that 'protection' I spoke of is, right?"
Onyxia immediately felt a chill run down her spine; she dared not imagine the consequences of completely succumbing to such power, would she become a raving lunatic, like her father, incapable of maintaining sanity outside of destruction and devastation?
"Even if he's resurrected as a Bone Dragon, can't this influence be stopped?"
Arthas shook his head. "Originally, I planned to erase most of Sabelian's will from his soul, leaving only basic combat instincts, which would also make it easier to clear the Old Gods' erosion. But now I've suddenly discovered that there might be another method."
"What method?"
"Turn him into a Lich, a Dragon Lich."
As Arthas spoke, he walked towards Sabelian's corpse. He pressed Sabelian's soul onto the giant dragon head of his corpse, while his other hand gripped the demonic sword in reverse. At a certain moment, he struck swiftly, the sharp demonic sword instantly piercing through Sabelian's soul and his skull.
"Bang!"
With a soft sound, Sabelian's soul was severely wounded, exploding into a sky full of blue mist, about to dissipate into the air. But at that moment, Frostmourne suddenly burst forth with immense suction, forcefully pulling Sabelian's fragmented soul, preventing it from immediately dispersing.
Under Arthas's guidance, the demonic sword became a conduit, crushing Sabelian's soul while simultaneously collecting the shattered soul and gradually merging it into the skull of his corpse.
The blue light points gradually faded from bright to dim; Sabelian's soul was forcibly infused into his skull by Arthas. However, just as Onyxia thought the ritual was about to end, Arthas pulled out Frostmourne and turned, swiftly and decisively striking, severing Sabelian's head.
With strength far beyond human imagination, Arthas gripped one of Sabelian's dragon teeth, separating his head from his body. The Black Dragonflight's still-liquid blood gushed from the severed neck, quickly forming a small stream on the ground.
However, this blood was drawn by some force, slowly yet precisely, forming an eerie magic circle beneath the Black Dragonflight's corpse.
Dragon blood inherently contained powerful magic and life force, and in the fallen Black Dragonflight's blood, that life force was abnormally active. Arthas felt that if Sabelian had died on Azeroth and his corpse had not been properly dealt with, a flesh abomination no less powerful than a living dragon might have been born from his corpse.
But now, being in the Outland, where the Old Gods' power was difficult to invade, this mutation would be very slow, even to the point of not proceeding. Arthas intended to use the Black Dragonflight's physical body's abnormal life force for a blood sacrifice, the purpose of which was to strengthen the dragon's skeleton.
Turbulent magical pulses surged from the magic circle and the dragon corpse. Amidst the eerie red light, the Black Dragonflight's flesh and blood gradually dissolved, pressed into his pale white skeleton by the red light. Soon, the Black Dragonflight's physical body was completely consumed, and red patterns actually glowed on the skeleton.
Arthas watched this scene, then patted Sabelian's dragon head, which was separated from his body, and said, "Don't sleep, little dragon, wake up and serve your new master."
This simple sentence seemed to contain a unique magic; the moment the words fell, Sabelian's previously closed eyes suddenly opened. This scene, like a dragon ghost story, made Onyxia recoil half a step in fright.
"You are... Master... I..." The Black Dragonflight's head opened and closed, emitting broken sounds. It was unclear how he spoke with only a head remaining, but all conscious beings present clearly heard the sound.
"You are Sabelian, once the subordinate of the Earth Guardian Neltharion, a member of the Black Dragonflight, and now a Dragon Lich of the Scourge."
"Saber...ian... Neltharion... Earth... Guardian... Black Dragonflight... Dragon Lich..." The Black Dragonflight's head continued to open and close, but this time, his head began to tremble slightly.
He trembled more and more violently, and just as Onyxia thought he was about to "come alive," Sabelian suddenly went still, as if a string had snapped.
After a long while with no further movement, Onyxia tentatively asked, "Did the ritual... fail?"
Arthas, however, smiled. He turned to Onyxia and said, "No, it succeeded."
With a thunderous crash, Sabelian's skeletal body's front claw suddenly rose, then slammed down onto the ground not far behind Arthas. The immense force made the earth groan, and the arena's hard ground instantly shattered.
Onyxia's expression changed; an incredulous look appeared on her face—this was not a mere impact caused by brute force, but the earth's response to the Guardian's offspring.
But why would a Bone Dragonflight possess a talent that only living, uncorrupted Black Dragonflight had?
"I am Sabelian, a Dragon Lich of the Scourge, a remnant soul, an avenger." Sabelian's cold tone was like the chilling winds of Northrend, piercing directly through the souls of everyone present except Arthas.
All the flesh on his dragon head also receded, leaving only the hard skull, and the burning soul fire within his eye sockets and breastbone.
The first Dragon Lich was born.