"I really want to know where we're going?!"
The biting cold wind howled incessantly, even drowning out Brann's loud voice. He complained while gripping the griffin's reins tightly to avoid being thrown off.
"You'll know when we get there. It's your favorite place anyway."
Arthas seized an opportunity to pull Brann from the Explorer's League. This time, deciphering the secrets of Ulduar would be impossible without this explorer.
"It better be! Otherwise, you'll have to compensate me! Woohoo—cough cough!"
Brann laughed heartily, snowflakes clinging to his beard. After gulping down a mouthful of cold wind, the Dwarf quickly shut his mouth.
After more than ten minutes, he and Arthas finally passed through the area with the heaviest snowstorm. The cold spirits ceased their relentless chill, slowly revealing a beautiful scroll before Brann's eyes.
"By the Mountain King!" Brann's eyes widened like the round braziers in Ironforge. "So this is what's behind the Storm Peaks?!"
Between the natural strongholds formed by towering mountains, ancient echoes and remnants could vaguely be seen. Miraculous structures forged in the Titan era stood among the mountains of the Storm Peaks.
One Titan facility and ruin after another left Brann overwhelmed—this was the dream destination for all adventurers in the world.
The griffin slowly descended, and Brann took out the camera a Gnome had given him, wanting to record everything he saw, but there were simply too many Titan ruins around to photograph them all.
Soon, Arthas landed with Brann at a temporary camp built by the Dragon Legion. Only high-ranking Dragons were here; as for the Dragon warriors participating in the war, they were pushing deeper into the Storm Peaks' interior under the cover of the Scourge.
"Arthas, you're finally here!"
Malygos was maintaining a complex Arcane spell. Upon seeing Arthas arrive, he handed the task over to his subordinate, Sartharion.
"I hope I'm not too late." Arthas nodded in greeting and then turned his gaze to another Dragon meeting them in the form of a female Night Elf.
"Young Prince, it seems you already know my identity?" Alexstrasza's gentle yet majestic voice rang out. "Perhaps, as Malygos said, if you had been born a few decades earlier, the world's trajectory would have been vastly different."
"Hmph, perhaps Nozdormu wouldn't appreciate the 'vastly different' you speak of." Malygos retorted to the Red Dragon Queen, seemingly displeased by something in her earlier words.
"Forgive Nozdormu, Malygos, he has his own difficulties." Alexstrasza comforted her brother. "At least this time we stand together again, don't we?"
"Say what you will," Malygos waved his hand. "Don't leave our guest waiting too long, Arthas. As you said, long-dormant iron constructs have reappeared throughout the Storm Peaks, attempting to reactivate the Titan facilities here."
Arthas was about to speak but was interrupted by Brann beside him. "What, Titan facilities that can be normally activated? And iron constructs from the Titan era?! Incredible… incredible, Arthas, why did you bring me here? To fight an ancient war?"
"And this is?" Malygos frowned. He hadn't initially noticed Brann next to Arthas, thinking he was just a subordinate.
"He's the helper I found, Brann Bronzebeard. Perhaps the person who knows the most about Titan history in the world right now."
Arthas then introduced the two Dragon Aspects to Brann. "This is the King of the Blue Dragons, Malygos the Weaver; and this is the Life-Binder, Alexstrasza the Red Dragon Queen."
Brann was stunned, staring wide-eyed at Malygos. His mind couldn't quite process it: King of the Blue Dragons? Red Dragon Queen?
"Arthas, can you repeat what we're here for?" Brann swallowed, most of his earlier excitement gone.
"Infiltrating the Titan city of Ulduar." Arthas repeated, and to make sure Brann understood, he added, "And the ones assisting us with the infiltration are the Dragon Legion."
"I think I should have made more thorough preparations," Brann mumbled. He suddenly realized that this was probably quite different from his previous adventures. "Uh… Lord Weaver, Lady Life-Binder, please continue, I'll just listen for now."
"Arthas, are you sure he can help?" Malygos had given Brann enough face because he came with Arthas, but now he thought this Dwarf was very unreliable.
"Indeed. Dwarves are dedicated to unearthing Titan relics and history, and Brann has an astonishing understanding of Titan constructs. Ulduar is filled with complex mechanisms, some of which cannot be solved by brute force alone."
Arthas explained clearly, but Alexstrasza was still worried. "Are you sure we can fool Loken? Although we, like these original Guardians, also received the Titans' blessing, they are, after all, the true Guardians. And we have never even entered the city of Ulduar."
The Dragons were not unaware of the changes in Ulduar over tens of thousands of years, but just as the Guardians chose to remain hidden, the Dragons were also not permitted to enter this miraculous city.
"I also worry about what Alexstrasza said," Malygos said. "But I will personally go with you. The Blue Dragonflight has not yet recovered from the tragedy of the War of the Ancients; the help we can provide on the front lines is limited."
Sartharion almost failed to maintain the magic in her hand when she heard Malygos was preparing to enter Ulduar himself. She exclaimed, "Your Majesty Malygos, that's too dangerous!"
"Would you rather I send you to your deaths?" Malygos snorted. "If it's dangerous for me to go in, you would be even less effective inside. The Titan Guardians can crush you as easily as hatchlings."
Sartharion's face darkened. As Malygos said, facing the Titan Guardians who had once defeated and imprisoned them, ordinary Blue Dragons without the Titan's blessing would not necessarily fare better than mortals in Ulduar.
"Sartharion means well, Malygos, you should be more lenient with the children." Alexstrasza placed a hand on Sartharion's shoulder.
"I am lenient with them, but the enemy will not be," Malygos's expression remained stern, but he actually cared for the members of the Blue Dragonflight more than anyone. "Alright, Sarthy, you stay outside and lead the Blue Dragons to assist the other Dragons. Don't worry about me."
Alexstrasza looked at Arthas and said with a slight apology, "I'm sorry, I can't enter Ulduar with you like Malygos can. My abilities cannot be fully utilized when I maintain my humanoid form."
Compared to Malygos, the Mage version, who could exert power beyond that of a Tirisfal Guardian in humanoid form, Alexstrasza seemed much weaker. A large part of the Red Dragons' combat power relied on their Dragon forms.
"But Krasus will go with you." Alexstrasza continued. "He is my most excellent consort, and he also possesses considerable magical abilities that can help you."
****
Valikirian, originally a Vrykul village, is now a Scourge outpost, a frontline against the Iron Army.
Currently, the number of Iron Warriors is not too many, but relying on the treacherous terrain and their natural understanding of the Titan ruins, they are resisting the Scourge's attacks from the defensive fortifications of Nidarvir at the peak.
Both sides of the war were silent; there were no earth-shattering battle cries, no tragic wails, or furious shouts. Besides the intense sounds of flesh and steel colliding, there was no other superfluous movement.
Efficient, accurate, and ruthless. When both sides of a war are 'tools' specifically crafted for combat, most mortal concepts of war become obsolete.
There is no low morale; crushing the enemy is the sole will of the entire army. There is no need for a large logistics force, and all soldiers can perform any role.
Even logistical needs are only for constantly consumed weapons and ammunition; food, medicine, and all other things unrelated to combat do not exist here.
Lothar observed the battlefield ahead, his expression stern, not excited or pleased by the Scourge's temporary upper hand.
Ogrim, on the other hand, observed the expression of his old opponent. After a long while, he snorted and laughed, "What, is this the first time the Grand Marshal of the Alliance can't understand the situation on the battlefield?"
"This isn't the war we're familiar with, Ogrim," Lothar replied, continuously processing the messages sent back by the junior Scourge officers.
"Even soldier casualties are a meaningless number; steel constructs can be reforged, and Scourge soldiers can be re-summoned."
Lothar held a battle report and sighed, "Although the Lich King has exempted us from most of death's effects, I still feel that emotions are leaving me, leaving only… cold rationality."
"That's exactly what he wants," Ogrim looked up at the ceiling of the Vrykul house.
"And we will obey his will," Lothar glanced at Ogrim, "Has free will made you a little sentimental? Don't forget, you are atoning."
Ogrim was silent for a moment, then said, "I actually don't hate him, because I feel he didn't lie to me."
"Hmph, look at these crazy steel constructs? If we weren't guarding here, their targets would be our compatriots—the former ones."
Lothar reminded him, "He didn't lie to us. If the Scourge cannot be used by the beings of Azeroth, it will be a terrible disaster."
"Where is he?" Ogrim suddenly asked, "Since the war began, I haven't seen him on any naxxanar."
Lothar did not answer, merely continuing to process the battle reports.
Seeing that Lothar was ignoring him, Ogrim lost interest in continuing the conversation. He snorted coldly and walked out, carrying his heavy warhammer.
"Where are you going?"
"To dismantle a few iron dolls. The atmosphere in this command room is suffocating."
"...He's in Ulduar, the source of all steel creations." Lothar looked at Ogrim's back, mentioned it briefly, then buried himself back in issuing commands, a slight curve on his lips.
Ogrim didn't reply upon hearing this, but at an angle Lothar couldn't see, he also grinned for a moment, then instantly returned to a deathly calm.
Lothar sat in the command room, picked up a pen made from some creature's finger bone, and wrote the final paragraph on a scroll:
[The offensive of the Iron Dwarves and golems did not exceed our expectations—in fact, it was far less. Our forces in various locations have achieved some results, but such an advantage is not joyous.
Their numbers are wrong, too few. How can such a small number of steel creations maintain those Titan facilities? In short, we still need to keep an eye on those iron men who haven't emerged from the buildings. They are not truly mindless golems; there must be some conspiracy behind this.]
... "Clang, clang"
An Iron Dwarves's head rolled a few times on the ground before a large foot, clad in snow boots, stepped on it.
Brann examined the internal structure of the Iron Dwarves, then kicked it away with a hint of disdain.
"These corridors are full of idle Steel Soldiers," he complained, instinctively stroking a burnt section of his beard.
Malygos's face was ashen. "Ulduar still stores so many soldiers? If they all activate, we won't be able to stop them."
Arthas retracted Frostmourne, slinging the runeblade at his waist. Krasus eyed the chilling blade, quietly stepping back half a pace.
"Brann, have you found the right direction? These Steel Soldiers are waking up faster."
The palace of Ulduar was grand and complex. The corridors, built in ancient times, were even more intricate than Arthas had imagined. If not for Brann, the 'Titan expert,' they wouldn't even have been able to find the threshold of the main hall.
"Don't rush, the disk Archaedas gave me is reconstructing the topography here. Just a little longer... Oh!"
Brann was fiddling with a head-sized disk when he suddenly let out a strange cry.
"You'd better not break it," Malygos said coldly, while constantly vigilant for any signs of space being confined.
"No, it's not that. I've found the location of the Forge of Wills."
"Then what are you waiting for? Take us there quickly," Malygos urged.
Brann awkwardly patted the disk, coughed twice, and said, "Uh, if this thing isn't broken, gentlemen, I think we took a wrong turn?"
Arthas walked over to Brann and looked at the location displayed on the disk. "So, we're currently near the Ancient Court?"
Brann nodded.
"Ancient Court... doesn't sound like a good place, as if we are the heretics being judged." Krasus tried to ease the equally awkward atmosphere.
"Indeed, for Loken, it is," Malygos used magic to levitate the disk into his hand, examined it for a moment, then tossed it back to Brann.
"Hey, be careful! This is a Titan-era antique!" Brann grumbled in dissatisfaction. Treating an archaeological artifact like this, he'd even dare to scold a Dragon King.
Malygos ignored the dwarf's complaints. "I heard from Tyr that the Ancient Court stores many records, some of which even the Guardians have no right to alter."
"Indeed, besides the platinum disk in Archaedas's hand, the Ancient Court might be the only place that stores the true history," Arthas explained. "And if we want to persuade the other Guardians, just talking won't be enough."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go quickly, I can't wait to see a Titan-level database!"
Brann was clearly the most excited one—a Titan-level database?! This was something he had always dreamed of.
"Quiet down, dwarf, do you want to attract all the Guardians of the Halls of Stone?!" Malygos glared at Brann.
"What's there to be afraid of? Those steel creations don't rely on ears to hear. I've checked, they probably don't even have a 'hearing' function!"
"Then you still need to be quieter, they might directly sense sound waves!"
Seeing their voices getting louder and louder, Arthas didn't bother to stop them and simply walked forward. Krasus sighed and followed behind Arthas.
—The two of them were clearly the younger ones among their 'kind', yet these two acted like children, never stopping since they entered the palace.
"Brann, Malygos, stop arguing, come over here quickly."
Arthas's shout made Brann and Malygos stop their argument. Remembering the important matter, Brann scurried on his short legs towards the interior of the Ancient Court.
Upon entering this hall, the most striking features were not the ornate beams and transparent floor, but the three colossal human-faced statues.
"Is this the Ancient Court?"
Brann examined the ancient sculptures before him. Their material was quite peculiar, like both metal and stone, and there were special patterns on their cheeks from the eyes to the jaw.
Ancient and mysterious energy flowed within these patterns, and the statues' pupils also accumulated such energy.
Malygos scanned the sculptures and said, "Three statues from the primordial era… They do seem like the work of the Titans, but their energy flow appears to be suppressed."
"Suppressed?" Brann couldn't perceive the profound energy flow, but an adventurer's intuition told him that these statues seemed to be in a dormant state.
"Indeed, otherwise, when we entered here, we would have been inspected and scrutinized by the Ancient Court." Arthas confirmed Malygos's statement, "It seems we are still late."
"Loken did this too?" Krasus examined the sculptures. He was much younger than Malygos, and some of the ancient secrets he knew were not much more than what mortals knew.
"I don't know, but it's definitely related to Yogg-Saron."
Arthas walked to the central control console at the bottom of the circular hall. This should have been the Ancient Court's control panel, but clearly, the court's energy had been cut off.
Brann came over, holding the disc. "So, since this court is shut down, we can't get the information we want?"
"If we can find a way to reactivate it, it's not impossible," Arthas said. "And this might even be good news."
The other three were stunned at first, then realized—since Loken chose to shut down this database that had existed since primordial times, he must have done so to conceal something.
And if Loken had the ability to modify its contents, there would naturally be no need to shut it down.
"But even with Loken's authority, he couldn't completely terminate the Ancient Court's operation," Arthas analyzed. "Although the Ancient Court is now in a dormant state, it was clearly forcibly cut off from its energy source."
Malygos closed his eyes and sensed for a moment, then gave a definite answer, "That's right, there were originally dense and complex energy pipelines here, but they have all been cut off or shut down."
Brann tugged at his beard, feeling an uncomfortable sensation like an ant crawling inside him—he had already reached the database, yet he couldn't turn it on?
He looked around, somewhat unwillingly, hoping to find some useful clues.
Then, he saw the disc-shaped indentation in the middle of the Titan control panel.
Brann composed himself, looked down at the Uldaman disc in his hands, and a bold idea surfaced in his mind.
While Arthas and the others were discussing what to do next, unaware of Brann's actions, he held the disc up to the indentation for a while, realizing that the interfaces of the two objects perfectly matched.
Before he could rejoice and inform Arthas, a sudden suction force pulled the disc from Brann's hand, and it happened to fall perfectly into the controller's indentation.
"Click."
In a moment of daze, the disc perfectly embedded into the indentation, without a single gap visible.
As Brann was dumbfounded, the previously silent hall began to hum after the disc was embedded.
The two dragons and one person, with their keen senses, instantly turned their heads to look at Brann, then immediately shifted their gaze to the three statues.
This time, the statues no longer exhibited slow and faint energy activity. A column of energy filled the hidden conduits, and the Ancient Court was reactivated!
"Detecting backup energy… Restarting… Energy conduit malfunction, troubleshooting cause of malfunction—"
A mechanical and majestic female voice echoed through the hall. Arthas gripped the hilt of Frostmourne and drew the runeblade.
"Brann?!"
"It wasn't me! The disc was sucked into the control panel." Brann quickly explained. He only wanted to look, how could he have known something like this would happen?
"Damn it, this thing is repairing the malfunctioning energy conduits!" Malygos immediately sensed trouble. "Stay alert, this commotion won't be small!"
Krasus drew his staff, skillfully cast defensive magic upon everyone, and quickly placed multiple area-of-effect spells such as anti-magic shields, magic traps, and defensive barriers continuously around the circular hall's archways.
Malygos, meanwhile, followed the direction of the energy flow, tracing it deep into the Halls of Stone. This time, following the energy, he quickly reached the depths of the Halls of Stone.
When his magical vision enveloped that area, he finally understood why they had only encountered scattered guards upon entering the Halls of Stone; most of the guards were still dormant.
In the central energy hub of the Halls of Stone, a female construct emanating an ancient and sacred aura was leading an army of steel against another group of dwarf constructs made of rock.
Upon realizing that the blocked energy conduits had been cleared again, the tall female construct decisively handed over command to a Steel Vrykul, while she led a small contingent towards the Ancient Court.
The Maiden of Grief's departure allowed the Earthen Guardians to breathe a sigh of relief. They had almost been unable to hold their defensive line, but without the Maiden of Grief's suppression, they could still hold the Forge of Wills for a while.
"Damn it, the Halls of Stone aren't unguarded; rather, the guardians here have been cornered by an army led by a Titan construct. All we encountered on the way were unawakened steel creations."
Malygos quickly clarified the situation. At the same time, the reactivated Ancient Court spoke its second sentence.
"Hum… Retrieving identity… Earth Guardian Archaedas, welcome to the Ancient Court."
Upon hearing this, Brann immediately shouted excitedly at Arthas, "We've turned misfortune into a blessing! This disc also has Archaedas's identification, we can access the database!"
"Then store the data on the disc, and we'll buy you time." Arthas tossed the light of dawn holy seal from his waist to Brann. "If anything unexpected happens, the light of dawn can protect you."
"Don't worry, I'll find what we need as quickly as possible!" Brann understood that combat wasn't his strong suit, and he quickly immersed himself wholeheartedly in retrieving information.
Arthas looked at Malygos, and after an exchange of glances, they nodded—a single Titan construct was not truly to be feared. Their concern was alarming Loken to the situation here, which would be detrimental to their infiltration of Ulduar.
"See if we can knock her out. If not, we can't let her send word to Loken!"
The three responsible for defense immediately reached a consensus, preparing to meet the incoming "impact."
The Maiden of Grief acted swiftly; upon discovering that the Ancient Court, which she had shut down, had restarted, she immediately chose to lead her troops to investigate the situation, even handing over command of the front lines to Sjonnir the Ironshaper.
Compared to eliminating those dissenters, ensuring the Ancient Court remained offline during this period was paramount.
"Why would I ensure the Ancient Court remains offline—" The Maiden of Grief's steps faltered for a moment, as if her own logic was contradictory.
But soon, her steps became firm again: this was a command from her master, who was currently eliminating traitors within Ulduar.
Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridors of the Halls of Stone, and the Maiden of Grief looked down at the Steel Soldiers rushing towards the Ancient Court, shouting, "For the will of the Chief Administrator!"
Arthas and the others in the Ancient Court also heard the Maiden of Grief's shouts, and by then, some Steel Soldiers branded with dark runes had already fallen under Krasus's magic.
"Krasus, can you handle these cannon fodder?"
Arthas looked at the Maiden of Grief, who had appeared behind the Steel Soldiers' formation, and turned to ask Krasus.
"With this number, I can hold on for a while," Krasus estimated the situation and replied.
Arthas nodded, and at the same time said to Malygos, "Later, teleport me next to the Maiden of Grief; she cannot be allowed to approach the Court."
"After I teleport you over, I will create a space that completely blocks communication, but in Ulduar, such an abnormal space cannot be maintained for too long, otherwise it will be discovered by the Guardians."
Malygos roughly understood Arthas's idea, "Krasus and I can attract the attention of most of the Steel Soldiers; resolve the battle as quickly as possible."
After watching Arthas's figure disappear as a blue light before his eyes, Krasus took a deep breath, his disguised elven pupils turning into the vertical slits of a dragon, and his breathing became hot.
"Lord Malygos, I need to unleash some of my power." Krasus's gentle voice slowly deepened, and his loose robes were stretched by his bulging muscles.
The Red Dragon race, the kin of Alexstrasza the Life-Binder, excelled not in magic or dragon breath, but precisely in close-quarters combat.
The life force flowing in their bloodline made the Red Dragon's body even stronger than other dragons; Krasus could not fully transform into a dozens-of-meters-long dragon in the Ancient Court, but he could still exert some of his true form's power.
This dragon, who usually disguised himself as an elven mage, tore open his robes with hands that were already close to dragon claws, revealing his strong pectoral muscles covered in dense dragon scales, which even made a sound like clashing metal when his sharp claws scraped against them.
Malygos watched Krasus charge into the Steel Soldiers' formation and begin to frantically destroy the enemies' forms, while he himself unhurriedly began to madly reinforce the magic Krasus had already set up.
Arcane rune filling, energy flow overload, amplification of benefits, enhancement of negative effects…
Dazzling magical symbols and marks danced in Malygos's hands like musical notes; even without using the purest magical power to bring destruction to his opponents, Malygos's casually cast spells still became an insurmountable chasm for ordinary Steel Soldiers.
If an academic old mage from Dalaran were to witness Malygos's heaven-defying operations, they would probably fall to their knees on the spot, weeping bitterly:
This King of Magic, using his authority and power, had drastically reformed the common spells long circulated in Dalaran that Krasus used, completing an optimization process that mortal mages might need decades or even centuries to achieve.
But this was already the minimum way to utilize the Weaver's authority; Malygos was always very cautious, fearing that if he overused his power, it might quickly attract the attention of Loken and other Guardians.
Currently, the Halls of Stone were already undergoing a purge and slaughter targeting the Earthen; a few minor disturbances would not cause Loken to pay attention.
After all, the Scourge and the Dragon Army on the front lines were not opponents that could be easily dismissed; Loken's attention would certainly be largely drawn to the front.
The combined strength of the Scourge and Dragons was enough to temporarily resist the Steel Army, which had not been fully awakened, and even had the surplus power to attack, but if they could not quickly restore the Guardians who had not fully fallen to normal, they would not be able to hold out for too long…
The fully activated Steel constructs and the ancient weapons left in the Titan ruins were enough to easily crush the Scourge and Dragons.
The situation was far from optimistic.
While thinking, Malygos occasionally threw out a few Arcane missiles, directly annihilating the Dark Rune Soldiers attempting to rush in into dust.
And Arthas, who had been teleported by Malygos's magic to the Maiden of Grief's side, unhesitatingly swung his sword at her ankle.
Her mind, beguiled by dark power, was already slower in reaction than normal, and the Maiden of Grief was completely unprepared for Arthas's sudden appearance; the sharp runeblade easily severed her ankle.
The Maiden of Grief, still moving forward, suddenly lost control of her body, and her heavy frame crashed heavily onto the ground, crushing several nearby Steel Soldiers into iron pancakes.
The Maiden propped herself up with her hands and looked at her injured ankle, discovering that although her right foot was not completely severed, the runeblade's sharpness had easily broken through her hard skin, and the eerie frost power had completely frozen her wound.
Even the transmission of energy was completely blocked, meaning that in just one encounter, the unprepared Maiden of Grief had one limb incapacitated by Arthas.
However, the Maiden of Grief showed no emotional change; as a construct, as long as her core was not destroyed, even if she lacked half her head, she could still fight.
After catching sight of Arthas, she gripped her warhammer and slammed it hard onto the ground; the ground immediately caved in from the terrifying force, and the huge tremor caused Arthas's steps to falter for a moment.
"Fallen flesh creatures dare to intrude into the core area of the Halls of Stone?! You will be subjected to the most severe punishment!" the Maiden of Grief sharply cried.
A strange fluctuation spread outwards from the huge warhammer embedded in the ground; the Steel Soldiers who had been advancing past the Maiden of Grief towards the Ancient Court suddenly stopped, their bodies began to tremble uncontrollably, and they could not even firmly grip their weapons.
Arthas naturally also felt the "suppression" from the Maiden of Grief; this was the sorrow that this construct had generated before being beguiled, due to her premonition of a dark fate, and this emotion, activated by a Titan core, even became a great weapon in her hands after her fall.
This effect was similar to an aura, covering the surrounding area, and living beings, or even constructs, controlled by the Maiden of Grief's sorrow would be unable to control their actions due to an uncontrollable sadness.
If continuously affected by this power, the negative emotions would directly strike the mind, crushing the victim's will.
Even Steel Soldiers, who had strong immunity to mental influence, could not escape; by rights, Arthas's flesh and blood body, in the Maiden of Grief's view, should have completely gone insane and been utterly lost in sorrow within a few seconds.
But to her astonishment, apart from being temporarily halted by the initial shockwave, Arthas's movements did not slow down in the slightest.
—How could the mental deterrence of a mere Titan construct sway the will of one who commands the dead of the world?
With a heart full of confusion and still unresolved contradictory logic, the Maiden of Grief watched helplessly as Frostmourne was plunged into her brow.
Arthas plunged Frostmourne into the Maiden of Grief's head, but this was not enough to kill a Titan construct.
Just as the Maiden of Grief believed, as long as her core was not damaged, she would not truly die.
However, Arthas did not kill her. After Frostmourne pierced her hard outer shell, it instantly drained all the surrounding heat, and as the temperature plummeted, thick ice began to spread from the sword wound.
When the Maiden of Grief's body was largely covered in ice and she completely lost consciousness, Arthas, gripping Frostmourne, pulled the runeblade out.
A shocking scar was etched on the Maiden of Grief's brow, but she had only fallen into a deep slumber, not yet completely dead.
But after Frostmourne left the Maiden of Grief's body, it did not stop drawing all surrounding heat; instead, supported by the energy Arthas fed into the sword, it became even more unrestrained.
The Iron Dwarves, who had been blasted away by the Maiden of Grief but were not yet dead, scrambled to their feet, attempting to attack Arthas.
However, before they could even approach the Prince holding the runeblade, the Iron Dwarves' movements became extremely sluggish. With every step, a harsh metallic grinding sound and a large amount of ice crystal fragments fell to the ground.
Even the floor of the Halls of Stone was covered with a thick layer of frost.
All heat sustaining life activity was drawn away by Arthas and banished from the real plane, cast into some unknown dimensional rift.
This low temperature, unlike ordinary ice magic, rendered even the highly magic-resistant Runic Iron Dwarves powerless. Even their fearless charges and attacks only turned them into ice sculptures in the cold wind.
Arthas launched no attacks; he merely dragged the Maiden of Grief with one hand and held Frostmourne with the other, strolling through the battlefield as if no one else was present.
Everywhere he went became frozen ground.
The power of frost, derived from the power of death, differs from ice controlled by Arcane magic. This power, closer to stillness, is the mortal enemy of all living things, and constructs are no exception.
Objects near Arthas, whether moving or still, were rapidly consumed by frost, and the entire hall gradually filled with ice crystals.
And the power surging within these still ice layers also made everything incredibly fragile; a few Iron Dwarves blocking Arthas's path were lightly swept aside and shattered into pieces.
Krasus, who was locked in fierce combat with the Iron Dwarves, suddenly shivered. He felt his body gradually stiffening, and even the scorching Red Dragon blood within him could not resist the erosion of the severe cold.
The Iron Dwarves, ravaged by the cold, also turned and charged towards Arthas, the
source.
Their simple minds believed that destroying the source would stop the cold that was tearing them apart.
Unfortunately, no Iron Dwarf warrior could enter the domain controlled by Arthas. This moth-to-a-flame behavior rapidly reduced the number of Iron Dwarves in the hall.
Moreover, after losing the Maiden of Grief's command, these Iron Dwarves, corrupted by dark runes and already not very bright, had no concept of retreat.
Before receiving new orders, as
puppets
who followed commands, they rushed towards Arthas, towards death, one after another.
With Arthas as the attraction, these Iron Dwarves quickly became ice sculptures displayed in the hall.
Krasus looked at Arthas slowly approaching, dragging the Maiden of Grief's body, and took a breath—then choked on the icy air, his throat aching.
Terrifying frost power,
Malygos exclaimed. He might be able to create frost magic with a wider range, but in terms of localized effect, he could no longer surpass what Arthas had displayed.
Hey, guys, I got it! All of Loken's bad deeds and his dark history, I've got it all!
Brann walked out joyfully, hugging a disc, but before he was halfway, he shivered—
What's going on? Did someone chisel through the wall?
He thought the cold wind from the Storm Peaks had poured into the hall, but when Brann saw the
spectacular view
outside the archway, he froze in place.
Wow... wow, you guys did this? It's truly... an artistic sight.
If it were before, Brann would have strongly condemned such an act of destroying cultural relics, but in this extraordinary time, he had no other thoughts besides amazement.
Did you get the stuff? Should we leave first?
Malygos asked Arthas.
No one present seemed surprised that Arthas could drag the Maiden of Grief, as if it were only natural.
No, wait. I want to do an experiment, right here.
Arthas had no immediate plans to withdraw. If the Maiden of Grief died, Loken would soon know that someone had snuck into the Halls of Stone.
Since that was the case, he might as well try to expel the Old Gods' corruption from the Maiden of Grief.
He had once made a pact with Onyxia, eradicating the Old Gods' corruption of the Black Dragon on a soul level, allowing her to gradually return to her normal bloodline, rather than the bloodline polluted by Deathwing.
Now, he intended to repeat the same trick on the Maiden of Grief.
If the Ancient Court could still be activated normally, perhaps using its power would make it simpler.
However, the Ancient Court's main power supply pipeline had been cut off by the Maiden of Grief, and starting it with backup energy would cause too much commotion.
I'm going to try to erase the Old Gods' corruption from this Titan construct. Malygos, do you have any thoughts?
Before acting, Arthas still asked Malygos. No one on Azeroth could surpass this old Blue Dragon's research into the mysteries of Arcane magic; perhaps he had made some important discoveries over the long years.
The Old Gods' corruption...
Malygos pondered for a moment, seemingly recalling something.
This corruption is basically irreversible.
During the ten thousand years he was betrayed by his closest friend, he not only slew countless Black Dragons but also captured some for study, wanting to see what exactly caused the formerly gentle Earth Guardian to fall.
But all his experiments attempting to remove the corruption from the Black Dragons ended in failure, which made Malygos increasingly frustrated and gradually led him to believe that the fall of the Black Dragon race was irreversible.
But now, hearing that Arthas was preparing to dispel the corruption from the Guardian, it momentarily brought him back to those sad and frantic years.
Arcane magic cannot remove this stubborn affliction. I once even killed a corrupted Black Dragon, trying to dispel the corrupted energy from his corpse, but I failed...
Malygos said.
I couldn't find the key to breaking this corruption... and I always felt that the power I wielded couldn't eradicate it.
Arthas looked at the ice-bound Maiden of Grief and said,
The Old Gods' influence is from the inside out. By the time you realize you've been invaded and consumed by them, it's already too late, the disease is terminal. However, my power might be able to 'kill' this corruption.
Kill?
Malygos was puzzled by this word.
Arthas did not answer, but instead raised Frostmourne and plunged it into the wound once more.
Do constructs have souls?
The answer is yes.
Even the Titans couldn't conjure a baseless consciousness out of thin air, because they themselves possess souls.
The engines used by the Titans and their Guardians to reshape the world were, in fact, a special kind of machine that, in addition to modifying the surface environment, could also collect souls scattered throughout the planet and the cosmos, imbuing them with independent thought.
That's how those creations of steel and rock were born.
Although the Titans could sculpt constructs of the Guardian level with their bare hands, the greatest advantage of using machines was convenience and efficiency.
That's why they installed advanced Titan devices throughout Azeroth, both to address the situation at the time and to prepare for unforeseen circumstances.
However, the noble and great Titan star gods forgot one thing.
When they defeated the Dark Empire of the Old Gods, they supervised the entire process, able to detect the Old Gods' small tricks in time.
But when they thought the tide had turned, and they turned to leave, entering the vast starry sky, the Old Gods would not retract their tentacles and fangs just because they were sealed.
Although most of the Guardians shaped by the Titans had strong wills and were difficult to be swayed by ordinary whispers, time was the Old Gods' best weapon.
During the long period of guarding Ulduar, besides endless loneliness and solitude, the only thing that could support Loken and others was their faith in the Titan star gods.
In fact, at first, Yogg-Saron also found it difficult to invade Loken's mind; his every move was strictly guarded by this astute jailer.
However, the Old Gods also possessed infinite time, and one day, they would wait for the right opportunity.
As expected, a drastic change swept through the entire Ulduar, and the former chief administrator had a fierce dispute with his colleagues, and the final result made Yogg-Saron ecstatic—
Odin parted ways with his former colleagues; he erected a magnificent fortress and chose to guard Azeroth alone from the distant sky.
And then...
Then Odin disappeared without a trace.
Who could have imagined that perhaps beyond Storm Peaks, or above the clouds, or at the bottom of the abyss, there were places even colder and more chilling than Northrend?
After Odin left, Loken became the new chief administrator, and this was the beginning of all nightmares—
"No—!"
Maiden of Grief screamed in terror; in her long life, she had never been so panicked, so fearful, not even when the tenacious Guardians faced the overshadowing darkness of the Old Gods back then, they never flinched.
But she saw a dream far more terrifying than the rebirth of the Dark Empire: her father gods being slaughtered by an avenger burning with intense flames, the noble bodies of the Titans easily severed by that dark blade, of which only the tip remained.
Finally, the Titan's chariot shining among the stars, the Pantheon, was swallowed by a dark green mist, and everything returned to nothingness.
The father gods... had fallen?
Wait... shouldn't I be carrying out the chief administrator's orders—slaughtering the Earthen? Why am I leading the Iron Dwarves to slaughter the Earthen?
The memories that flooded her mind after regaining consciousness were a tangled mess, almost causing the Maiden of Grief to directly crash; she spent a great deal of effort to recover from that chaotic feeling.
"Maiden of Grief, hmm, that's what I should call you now, do you still recognize me?"
Maiden of Grief looked at the source of the voice, that familiar blue hair, familiar attire, a mortal race, yet still exuding the aura of Titan's blessing, "You are Weaver Malygos? Why are you in Ulduar—my head hurts so much, what just happened?"
Constructs rarely feel pain, and the pain Maiden of Grief felt came from a void in her soul.
Arthas still used the same trick; since the Old Gods' corruption had seeped into the soul, he simply guided the corrupted souls to gather together and then excised them from the Maiden of Grief.
Of course, this process needed to be done while continuously replenishing pure anima, otherwise, it might cause some irreversible consequences.
Arthas's rescue of Maiden of Grief was very successful; apart from a little discomfort and possibly some confused memories, Maiden of Grief was fine.
"You still recognize me, that's good, much better than you were just now, controlled by mad thoughts." Malygos sighed in relief, his right hand behind his back dispelling the magic he had been preparing for a long time.
Soon, the Weaver became serious and stated in a solemn tone, "What I am about to say might be unbelievable, but since you have broken free from the Old Gods' control, you should easily discover the gaps in your memory."
Malygos recounted everything, such as Loken's corruption, Tyr's demise, and Archaedas's escape, but this time it was not from Loken's "artistically embellished" perspective.
Maiden of Grief was initially bewildered, but gradually, she quickly realized the inconsistencies in her memory and logic; the heart of this ancient Guardian sank little by little.
"We came here to prevent the Old Gods from encroaching on the Ancient Court and the Forge of Wills, and then, we met you, who were leading troops to clear out the Earthen."
Maiden of Grief had already sorted out the whole story; she didn't even need to verify the truthfulness of Malygos's words, because after breaking free from Loken's and the Old Gods' dark will, she had already sensed the abnormality.
However, facing the betrayal of her superior, Chief Administrator Loken, Maiden of Grief felt no anger, no disappointment, but rather a heavy sigh.
"Loken was also corrupted? Father God above, was everything we did truly meaningful? Why didn't you come back?"
Even at this moment, Maiden of Grief subconsciously didn't want to recall her terrible dream; she just sighed softly, sadness spreading like a tide through the hall of the Ancient Court.
Brann, being of flesh and blood, couldn't resist this influence; his nose inexplicably stung, and he thought of his father, mother, uncle, aunt, maternal uncle, maternal aunt...
"Brann!" Arthas shouted, startling Brann, who was almost drowning in sorrow, and cast a layer of Holy Light protection on him.
The Prince looked at Maiden of Grief and reminded her, "Your Excellency, Maiden, please be mindful of your power; not all beings can withstand this power."
Maiden of Grief was still deeply mournful; her every word pulled at the emotions deep within the soul, "Alas... Although I have broken free from the corruption, my core was also damaged during the previous rampage, and I cannot control this aura-like influence now... Alas... Why did this happen...?"
Arthas's eyebrows twitched twice; he had a very ominous premonition, "Your Excellency, Maiden, do you have any understanding of the current situation in Ulduar?"
"Alas... Loken has gathered all the troops that can be awakened and is constantly creating new soldiers. Some Guardians, like me, have been captured by the darkness... Even Freya and the others have been captured by Loken, the world has reached its darkest hour, and the moment Loken's plan succeeds, the Dark Empire will reappear in the world."
Although Maiden of Grief was relaying information, her tone made it sound as if Loken had already succeeded.
Malygos and Arthas exchanged glances, seeing the helplessness in each other's eyes: Oh no, we saved her, but something's wrong with her mind!