As Arthas's figure vanished into the dark corridor and Malygos battled the four brainwashed Guardians, far away on the Icecrown Glacier, at the peak of the fortress, the helm of domination erupted with an intense soul fluctuation.
This fluctuation penetrated Icecrown Citadel, reaching deep into the fortress's underground, which had been transformed into a grim and terrifying "factory" by low-ranking undead who had been digging and building day and night.
Dozens of Necromancers stood in specific formations next to several massive Soul Engines, preparing for something.
Upon sensing the erupting soul fluctuation, all the Necromancers focused their attention entirely on the colossal evil machines.
"His Majesty has arrived there. Retrieve the Sunwell's water and begin the first phase of preparations," the leading elven ghost mage conveyed a message to all ritual participants. "Offer sacrifices for this grand feast."
And besides the Necromancers who were standing by in full readiness, at the main entrance of Ulduar, the Red Dragon Queen, looking into the fortress, sighed, "The final battle has begun. Let us begin as well."
As the Red Dragon Queen's command spread throughout the Dragon Army, all the Dragons who had been resting on the cliffs of Storm Peaks soared into the sky. Their massive bodies, astonishing speed, and the gales stirred by their flapping wings swept up the pristine white snow of Storm Peaks, adding a desolate beauty to this decisive moment.
Scorching Red Dragon flames, icy Blue Dragon breath, and a myriad of colorful dragon breaths and magic flew wildly across the battlefield. Almost every second, countless constructs melted into scrap metal, and Ulduar's walls and defenses crumbled one after another. The allied forces also paid a price; while destroying a large number of enemies, some Dragons were shot down by the constructs and plummeted to the ground, where they were torn apart by swarming Iron Dwarves.
But overall, the situation was tilting in favor of the allied forces. However, even so, the Red Dragon Queen felt no relief or joy; instead, a heavy sense of oppression, like dark clouds over a cliff, slowly gathered and settled.
"Malygos… what exactly are you and that human with Titan blood doing?"
While the Dragons were bombarding Ulduar's army, the Scourge led by Lothar and Ogrim shattered the last iron construct in the Halls of Stone. Archaedas was now directing the surviving Earthen to take over this ancient hall.
Archaedas opened the recently sealed Ancient Court gate and found the Sorrowful Mother lying on the ground, her luster and color gone—this construct, realizing her mistake, had poured her remaining energy into the Ancient Court, undertaking the final defense until the court was fully repaired.
"May the Father God grant you peace." Archaedas moved the Sorrowful Mother's body aside. There was no time for sorrow now; he had to fully dedicate himself to the repair of the Halls of Stone.
This former Earth Guardian quickly activated the Ancient Court and began using its functions to repair the Halls of Stone, as well as the most crucial Forge of Wills.
However, during the repair, Archaedas's gaze lingered on a certain module. He hesitated for a moment but still activated it.
Afterward, a signal, hard to detect but incredibly swift, was emitted from Ulduar, but it quickly vanished into the clouds, no longer detectable or capturable.
After completing these tasks, Archaedas rededicated his full attention to his work.
…
Arthas slid sideways, dodging the misshapen giant pincer, while ignoring the terrifying gibbering that constantly emanated from the colossal creature before him.
General Vezax, Yogg-Saron's loyal servant, a terrifying flesh creature whose movements defied his cumbersome body. As his deadly pincers descended, they brought with them Void fluctuations that could instantly claim a mortal's life.
Evidently, with Yogg-Saron on the verge of breaking free, the overflowing dark power had greatly enhanced his servant. The power displayed by this K'thir had far exceeded the limits that mortals could contend with.
No matter how hard the armor, it could not resist the mental corruption he exuded, and no matter how profound the spell, it could not counter the surging Void fluctuations.
However, Vezax's attacks simply could not land on Arthas, who, in his eyes, was merely a lamb to be slaughtered.
The paladin's expression was normal, calmly dodging Vezax's attacks. Vezax's massive pincers, capable of smashing any wall or fortress, simply couldn't touch him, and the maddening mental fluctuations couldn't shake Arthas's Holy Light.
—Even if they could, what mental pressure could shake the Lich King's all-commanding will?
Vezax relentlessly launched attacks. Although he wondered why Arthas wasn't attacking, only letting him strike, he knew his mission was to buy enough time for his supreme master. Since that troublesome Dragon King chose to fight other Guardians outside, Arthas alone posed no threat—
"Bang!"
It hit!
Vezax's giant pincer had, for the first time, truly struck Arthas's body.
But Vezax felt no excitement at crushing the human before him into pulp; instead, a strong, lingering unease, even fear!
The K'thir was horrified to discover: this guy was not human at all!
As the dust settled, the light of dawn, radiating golden light, transformed into a shield, blocking Vezax's heavy blow. At this moment, Arthas's left hand, gripping the shield, gradually began to be covered in a metallic sheen.
And upon that metallic skin, obscure, complex runes, like some regular tattoo, crawled all over Arthas's body.
"It's time."
His golden hair transformed into burning golden and grayish-white flames, one half fervent and dazzling, the other cold and lifeless. His eyes also glowed with both gold and ethereal blue.
Every cell in General Vezax's body was frantically screaming warnings. He wanted to retract his arm, but it was clearly too late.
Golden Holy Light flames burst forth from the light of dawn, and the immense impact knocked Vezax, who was like a small mountain, off balance. His incredibly hard carapace could not withstand Arthas's Holy Light power, and the almost violent Holy Light directly melted half of Vezax's pincer.
On the charred wound, there was almost no normal biological tissue left, only the light flames still burning on Vezax's flesh.
Vezax immediately summoned a Netherstorm, annihilating the Holy Light on his hand, but he quickly found that even with the Holy Light extinguished, with the K'thir's self-healing ability, the wound still could not regenerate.
What terrifying Holy Light?!
General Vezax had no time for further astonishment, as Arthas's second strike had already arrived. Surging Holy Light served as the propulsion for his burst, his figure trailing a phantom as he violently collided with Vezax's chest.
The massive K'thir could not maintain his balance under this blow, and he was even more horrified by the injuries he sustained. His carapace, capable of withstanding heavy blows from a Guardian of Tyr's caliber, shattered directly, and a Holy Light sword left a terrifying wound on his body.
And at this moment, Vezax had no time to be shocked, because Arthas's next strike had already arrived.
Vezax fell to the ground, hastily exerting all his might to conjure a powerful Void barrier, intending to block Arthas's Holy Light.
But when the attack landed, the expected explosion did not occur, and General Vezax's confusion remained forever at that moment.
In Arthas's right hand, a runeblade had already passed through the Void barrier and plunged into Vezax's head. Immediately after, Frostmourne revealed its terrifying fangs.
Vezax's soul was brutally torn, shredded, then crushed into a ball, and greedily swallowed by the runeblade. The powerful soul brought Frostmourne's power to its peak. Arthas unhesitatingly pulled out the runeblade and aimed it at the entrance Vezax was guarding.
A soul torrent that almost ripped reality roared into the deepest part of the prison. After a thousandth of a second of stagnation, a violent explosion directly sent Vezax's body flying.
A tragic roar was emitted—that was not Yogg-Saron; such an attack was not enough to severely injure an Old Gods. But what about Loken, who was fully concentrated on dismantling the cage?
Evidently, Loken had no spare energy to take Arthas's "sneak attack." He took the full brunt of this terrifying impact, fueled by an entire Vezax's soul.
Loken had almost calculated everything, even anticipating that Dragon Kings might break into Ulduar, so he paid a huge price to brainwash the other Guardians in a short time to strengthen Ulduar's defenses.
Moreover, beyond this defensive line, a powerful K'thir guarded the gate of Yogg-Saron's prison, so even if the Dragon Kings escaped the entanglement of the Guardians, or if the Guardians recovered their senses from their madness, they would inevitably wear each other down and, in their weakened state, would not be able to deal with General Vezax for a while.
As long as enough time was delayed and Yogg-Saron broke free, the army of Dark Empire servants would instantly extinguish all rebels, and even if Odin descended then, he would be powerless to resist.
What's more, countless millennia ago, Odin was sealed in the Halls of Valor by Helya, and that seal remains unbreakable to this day; Odin could only wait for doom to arrive in his divine hall.
Countless centuries ago, under the beautiful vision Yogg-Saron painted for him, Loken began to design everything, breaking down the will of the Guardians, severing their connections, turning their unbreakable bonds into burdensome shackles or resentful rifts, and transforming their firm faith into self-doubt.
Each of the Titan Guardians possessed immense power, blessed by their father Titans; in a direct conflict, even a resurrected Old Gods would not gain an advantage. But when they stubbornly clung to their own views and fought independently, that was when Ulduar's defenses would crumble.
Now, the plan had reached its final step. Although it was unknown why the undead entrenched in Icecrown Glacier were also attacking Ulduar alongside the dragons, their combined strength did not leave Loken helpless.
Now, as long as the final seal was lifted, the great master would be able to—
"Ah!!!"
Endless pain, fear, and torment instantly assailed Loken's mind; even a mind corrupted and strengthened by the Old Gods found it difficult to resist this massive soul shock.
The soul of an entire K'thir was torn and shattered, carrying with it the agony of all the beings it had tortured and tormented throughout its endless life, all of which accumulated on Loken in a fleeting moment.
The "great" Guardian Loken's eyes became vacant, and his legs gave out, causing him to kneel before the Old Gods. The light in his eyes dimmed and flickered, as if it could vanish at any moment.
The soul shock that erupted from the collision with Loken's mind also affected Yogg-Saron, but Arthas's offensive aftershocks were clearly still unable to harm Yogg-Saron.
However, Loken's daze halted his action of lifting the seal, leaving Yogg-Saron's seal broken at an awkward, halfway point.
Parts of his body could move freely, but the foundation of his power was still firmly locked underground by the seal, resulting in him only being able to move the portion of his form that protruded above the surface.
Yet, this was already quite terrifying. The Old God's true form was as massive as a mountain; now, merely a small portion exposed above ground was comparable in size to a typical hill. Tumbling fleshy tentacles and abyssal mouths spread wantonly across Yogg-Saron's grotesque body, and mind-corrupting whispers surged incessantly within the underground cavern.
This large mass of deformed flesh had no "eyes" or similar organs, but anyone, any creature, could clearly feel that it was gazing at the breach in the prison, which was the entrance guarded by its servant.
A heavy, dark will pressed down on every stone and grain of sand; these inorganic, lifeless things, at this moment, seemed to sprout tentacles and gaping mouths, baring their fangs and claws, waiting to devour everything.
"Proficient in the power of death, submit to me, and you will become the most powerful patriarch the Dark Empire has ever known."
This was Yogg-Saron's first utterance; however, it was not spoken through an organ but directly transmitted as a whisper into a creature's mind.
An ordinary person would fall into madness after hearing just one sentence, or even undergo certain deformities, becoming a horrifying mass of flesh.
"Dark Empire? That's merely the pathetic dream of you Old Gods." Arthas's mocking mental voice directly impacted Yogg-Saron's barrier.
Whispers were not exclusive to the Old Gods; the Lich King's whispers were equally pervasive.
"It seems you know many things. However, has anyone ever told you that knowledge sometimes means—madness?"
The last syllable of Yogg-Saron's whisper suddenly elongated, and the scene before Arthas's eyes abruptly twisted and distorted. A certain power influenced the surrounding reality, altering everything Arthas saw.
This was not merely an illusion, but the Old God's power definitively affecting reality, twisting it into the form it wished to present—the Dark Empire was indeed destroyed, but whenever an Old God fully resurrected, the Dark Empire would reappear on the lands of Azeroth.
"Prince of Lordaeron, your surface is brilliant, the hope of the kingdom, yet secretly you manipulate the power of death, desecrate the dead, and foolishly dream of building your own eternal kingdom. Perhaps one day, you will become the true Undead Monarch?"
The scene before Arthas's eyes gradually returned to normal; however, he was no longer in the cavern but standing amidst a desolate ruin.
He looked around, at familiar yet strange buildings, and mournful, sorrowful specters wandering aimlessly through the ruins. Some bumped into his body, and in their bewilderment, looked up at Arthas's face.
The specters' bewilderment instantly turned into anger and astonishment, and a piercing shriek rang out, "Arthas Menethil! You damned fallen one, traitor! You should fall into the abyss forever!"
The specters' shrieks awakened all the surrounding undead; countless ghosts, spirits, and zombies gathered towards the plaza where Arthas stood. Arthas, that cursed name, was the nightmare of all of them.
This was Lordaeron—the homeland personally destroyed by Arthas Menethil, the Lich King's foremost champion.
Arthas watched the undead surrounding him in layers; they approached Arthas, extending their sharp claws and fangs, wanting to tear Arthas to pieces.
He even saw several familiar faces among them: his comrades and friends from the Silver Hand, his ministers and subjects, and... his father, Terenas Menethil.
"Arthas, you damned traitor, you betrayed all of us!"
Malicious curses piled up, surging like waves, attempting to drown Arthas, but Arthas remained unmoved.
"If I were a paladin, the Prince of Lordaeron, then these undead would fear my courage, my wisdom, my Light." Arthas raised light of dawn, and a powerful burst of Holy Light erupted, repelling the waves of undead. "paladin Arthas would not betray you, and if you died because of me, I would purify you with the Holy Light and grant you peace."
Holy Light rained down, piercing through the desolate clouds of Tirisfal; this land, long devoid of life, suddenly held some hope at this moment.
However, the undead still relentlessly pressed forward, one after another. The Holy Light purified their souls, but countless more undead, countless innocents slain by Arthas, were wailing.
Their numbers were endless, as if Arthas, even with all his might, could not purify them all.
But just as the sea of undead was about to engulf Arthas again, Arthas put down light of dawn. The holy hammer reverted to an ordinary-looking spellbook hanging at his waist, and with the Holy Light extinguished, he held his runeblade level.
"And now, you shall, sub-mit, to, me!"
The command, accompanied by the surging power of the runeblade, impacted the sea of undead. These undead abruptly halted their steps, and certain emotions that should not arise in their hearts began to spread: awe and fear. They revered the Lich King's power and cunning, and feared his coldness and cruelty.
As Frostmourne's light intensified, the undead before Arthas roared, and in a trance, the scene before him was no longer the desolate ruins of Lordaeron, but a chaotic battlefield, filled with wails and roars, a hideous and filthy black scar beneath a beautiful golden forest, pointing towards the golden high wall in the distance.
Quel'Thalas!
Arthas, riding his beloved Invincible, stood upon the battlefield. Where his steed's hooves passed, golden tulip fields immediately withered and died; the power of death was eroding this land.
And beneath his feet, countless elven guards had already fallen. Their blood gradually dried, their once soft skin became parched and wrinkled, and soon, they stood up blankly, staggering with broken weapons towards their former comrades.
"Arthas, you damned invader, your opponent is here!"
A battle cry filled with fury came, and Arthas looked in its direction. A sharp arrow streaked through the air; he lightly swung his blade to deflect it, and after seeing the approaching figure, he shook his head, "I didn't expect us to clash under such circumstances, Ranger-General."
Sylvanas had no mind to listen to Arthas. She only knew that her comrades and kin were being slaughtered by this ruthless executioner, dying tragically one after another before her eyes, only to immediately transform into mindless undead and begin attacking their own kind.
The Ranger-General's heart was filled with rage and sorrow. She drew an arrow from her quiver, nocked it onto her longbow, and a fierce arrow shot forth, but Arthas merely waved his right hand, and dark magic halted the arrow mid-air.
He looked at the panicked civilians fleeing behind Sylvanas, moved his fingers, and the magic-driven arrow reversed direction.
Sylvanas cautiously tried to dodge, but she quickly realized that Arthas's target was not her; those arrows completely missed her position, followed by several screams.
The arrows pierced through several fleeing refugees and the soldiers protecting them. They fell into the crowd, immediately rose as undead, causing even greater chaos.
Sylvanas's eyes were splitting with rage. The methods Arthas displayed made her realize that her proud archery could not threaten him at all, and while she might be able to dodge the deflected arrows, the unarmed civilians and ordinary soldiers were utterly defenseless.
The Ranger-General's heart instantly turned to ash—if she used her bow, she was confident she could delay enough time to ensure most of the refugees escaped the Scourge's pursuit, but if she couldn't use her bow...
Arthas's eyes were cold, his Titan-form pupils calm and unmoving, though the Sylvanas in the "illusion" surely still saw the original Death Knight Arthas.
He continued to casually manipulate the scattered elven arrows and weapons on the ground, coldly and swiftly picking off the fleeing refugees one by one. His goal was clear: to force Sylvanas into close combat with him.
"Damn it!" Sylvanas gritted her teeth. She pulled her bow, doing her best to shoot down the weapons enveloped in dark magic, while also being forced to approach Arthas.
She abandoned her greatest advantage—the distance between her and Arthas, which was her only hope of delaying time and safely retreating.
Having shot the last arrow from her quiver, Sylvanas directly hurled her beloved bow at Arthas. At this moment, she was only a few meters away from Arthas.
Just as Arthas blocked the longbow, Sylvanas drew the two short swords strapped to her thighs, leaped, and slashed at Invincible's two front legs.
However, Arthas's power was not something Sylvanas, still a mortal, could contend with. A massive dark magic, like a hand, gripped the Ranger-General's neck, dragging her forcefully before Arthas.
Suffocation and pain made Sylvanas instinctively want to resist; her twin swords fell to the ground. She struggled to pry open the "hand" clamping her, but unfortunately, ethereal magic could not be dispelled by mere flesh and blood. Her legs could only kick helplessly in mid-air.
Arthas placed one hand on "Sylvanas's" shoulder, and with the other, held Frostmourne, slowly embedding it into the Ranger-General's abdomen.
The pain of soul tearing was not something that could be resisted by sheer willpower. Sylvanas's will almost shattered from the erupting agony. She let out a horrific wail, and two lines of tears involuntarily slid from her eyes.
The Ranger-General, who was about to be turned into a banshee, continued to let out soul-piercing wails, yet Arthas continued to channel his power through the runeblade.
Time passed by second by second. Arthas seemed pathologically to be hanging onto Sylvanas's life, giving her endless pain. The Ranger-General could no longer speak normally; even with her tenacious spirit, she pleaded in broken, intermittent words, "Kill... me..."
Unfortunately, Arthas's pity was not for this fake before him. The illusion created by Yogg-Saron was very real, even as if directly extracted from the river of time, but the means it left within this "Sylvanas's" body became a loophole Arthas discovered.
Soon, Arthas had completely understood Yogg-Saron's power nodes. Clearly, to make this twisted reality more real, it also had restrictions it had to obey. It hoped to break Arthas by making him experience the same pain as the Eternal Dragon King, but what it didn't know was that the last one who tried to defeat Arthas with such an illusion was named Ner'zhul.
And his soul, now, probably had nothing left, not even the qualification to enter Maw.
Yogg-Saron had set a trap in the "Ranger-General's" body. If Arthas, out of mercy, did not kill her, Yogg-Saron's power would gradually fill this illusion until it could unleash a blow sufficient to kill or severely wound Arthas.
And if Arthas killed Sylvanas, as in "correct" history, this twisted reality would be even harder to break, and even Arthas would be trapped within it for a considerable time, by which point Yogg-Saron would have long since broken free.
However, even Yogg-Saron had not anticipated that Arthas could be so ruthless as to keep a friend he knew well in a half-dead, soul-shattered state, just to figure out the way its power operated.
The Old Gods' twisted reality, while not entirely real, was also not entirely false. It was more like a fabricated "parallel timeline" segment, into which Arthas was banished. The Sylvanas here, and even those civilians and soldiers, had their own thoughts.
These "characters" were virtually indistinguishable from real people. Indeed, if the Old Gods were willing to expend more power to shape them, they could even manifest in the real world with complete memories and abilities.
Although the Old Gods could not directly control the flow of time, they still possessed some power to peer into the river of time; otherwise, they could not have influenced the Bronze Dragon King, deeply buried in the timestream, and induced his demise into the corrupted Eternal Dragon King.
But now, Arthas's method of breaking the twisted reality silenced Yogg-Saron. The omnipresent whispers briefly ceased the moment Arthas broke through the illusion and returned to reality.
Yogg-Saron wasn't entirely shocked by Arthas's methods; he was actually pondering Arthas's true intentions.
Because in the illusion just now, Yogg-Saron had a preliminary test of Arthas's strength, and the result was astonishing: Arthas had indeed likely surpassed the limits of most native Azeroth creatures.
In other words, he was too strong to be human, even more powerful than a Titan Guardian.
The problem was, if Arthas was truly that powerful, coupled with his almost unshakable will, he could have easily broken Yogg-Saron's illusion with other methods just now, so why resort to such violent means?
The suspicious Yogg-Saron naturally wouldn't believe Arthas had revealed his full strength, but Vizaks' soulless corpse and the severely wounded, unconscious Loken both indicated that Arthas was different from the bugs he had once toyed with and crushed.
But Yogg-Saron remained very calm, or rather, he knew that even if Arthas was stronger than Loken, stronger than Odin, and even stronger than all the Guardians combined, he couldn't kill him; at most, he would just have to stay in his cage for a bit longer.
He could wait another hundred thousand years, but could Arthas guard him forever?
The Old Gods are like cancer on Azeroth; the most troublesome aspect of these planetary cancers is that they are difficult to remove, or rather, difficult to remove without harming Azeroth.
Even the world-forging Titans, who could destroy planets with a wave of their hand, couldn't eliminate them; only one unfortunate trailblazer suffered a great misfortune.
However, regardless of whether Arthas could guard Yogg-Saron for another hundred thousand years, Arthas's purpose in coming this time was simple: to completely eliminate Yogg-Saron's threat.
Northrend is the Scourge's base, and the only place where these undead can reside without disturbing the mortal world. If Yogg-Saron caused trouble here every few days, Arthas wouldn't have time for anything else; he would indeed have to stay here daily, watching Yogg-Saron to prevent him from breaking free.
Moreover, a bigger problem was that Northrend's location might hide even greater dangers. Arthas wasn't sure how much the Old Gods understood about the Shadowlands, but he was certain these ancient deities knew of its existence.
So, in this long passage of time, had the Old Gods discovered the "fragile" spatial barrier between Icecrown Glacier and Maw? If they had, would these Old Gods, who constantly sought to escape, choose to make a deal with someone currently in Maw?
Arthas dared not gamble on the Old Gods' bottom line, because during the War of the Ancients, they even dared to make some kind of agreement with the Burning Legion.
It should be known that the Burning Legion was definitely more dangerous than a certain bald man currently imprisoned, because the bald man might not trouble the Old Gods for a while, but the first thing the Legion would do after occupying Azeroth would surely be to bring Sargeras to shatter the planet.
After the planet was shattered, would the Legion, which was already at odds with the Void, conveniently slaughter the Old Gods as well? The answer was obvious.
The Old Gods' yearning for freedom was evident. Although time held little meaning for them, if they could break free from their prison, who would willingly remain confined? For this, they were willing to use the Burning Legion and dance on a knife's edge.
To deal with such a troublesome and disgusting bunch, Arthas naturally came prepared. It seemed as if he had rushed to the battlefield after a hasty discussion with the dragons, intending to execute a decapitation strike and temporarily extinguish the possibility of the Old Gods' resurgence.
But in reality, his plan of action was re-formulated after some of the Scourge's "high-tech" scientists researched certain things from the Primal Thornbeast.
However, to prevent Yogg-Saron from knowing, he didn't even tell the plan to any of the Scourge generals fighting on the front lines. Only those protected within Icecrown Citadel and by the helm of domination understood a part of this insane plan.
Arthas had already sent people to construct the Soul Engine in the lower levels of Icecrown Citadel. Once these terrifying machines had enough souls to power them, they would become an inexhaustible energy source for the Scourge.
However, even if all of Azeroth's souls poured into these "special edition" engines, they wouldn't satisfy the appetite of these behemoths, nor would they produce satisfactory energy.
Arthas couldn't extract Azeroth's essence to power the Soul Engine either; such a self-destructive approach would yield no benefits and would only weaken Azeroth and the power of all life upon it.
Fortunately, the Dreadlords who had died at Arthas's hands and those who had been captured provided inspiration for these new machines.
Dreadlords originated from Revendreth, the anima extraction ground of the entire Shadowlands, and having infiltrated the Burning Legion for many years, they could be said to have mastered the art of converting energy through souls.
If the souls of Azeroth couldn't make these Soul Engines operate at full power, then they would have to find a place with more souls and a greater flow.
What place would have a greater soul flow than Azeroth? Other living planets, or the Burning Legion's lair?
Arthas knew the answer to this question: the River of Souls in Maw—Gorgaya, the River of Souls!
There were souls from countless worlds, deemed beyond redemption by the Arbiter due to their egregious sins, and cast into Maw!
These souls were originally meant to become fodder for The Jailer to expand his army, but Arthas felt that perhaps he could prevent this from happening, and even nip The Jailer's threat in the bud.
Even if he couldn't sever the entire River of Souls, intercepting even a portion of it would be more than enough for the Scourge. This method of weakening the enemy and strengthening oneself was simply a perfect idea.
And the biggest problem was how to intercept this portion of the River of Souls without The Jailer noticing, or rather, to do so in a way that he couldn't do anything about it even if he did notice.
Originally, Arthas had no idea, because The Jailer had planned his grand scheme for countless years, so how could he tolerate anyone standing in his way?
Moreover, opening a passage to the Shadowlands would inevitably affect the spatial stability between the two planes. A slight misstep could lead to playing with fire, or even directly inviting The Jailer and his Maw army into the fold.
However, Azeroth has many unique products, and among these "products," the most powerful and special are the "Old Gods" parasitic on Azeroth, the Titan world-soul!
Furthermore, after Sargeras's insane cosmic cleansing, the Old Gods capable of parasitizing Titan world-souls might already be a unique phenomenon, like a scorpion pulling out feces—one of a kind.
The energy contained within the Titan world-soul made Yogg-Saron, N'Zoth, C'Thun, and Y'Shaarj far more powerful than Old Gods on other planets in the universe. Their bodies were like mountains and continents; the original Dark Empire was actually built upon their bodies.
The Titans' modifications couldn't completely eradicate their bodies; they could only be imprisoned underground through special means, otherwise, directly destroying them, rooted too deeply in the planet, would cause irreversible damage to Azeroth.
And the bodies of the Old Gods were mixed with the surface rocks and soil of Azeroth. Beneath the thick continental plates, above Azeroth's core, these ancient deities were sealed.
Rather than saying Ulduar was Yogg-Saron's cage, it would be more accurate to say that the entire continent of Northrend and its surrounding oceans were Yogg-Saron's prison. Ulduar was, at most, an office or a watchtower within that prison.
And what Loken did was equivalent to making a new key for the prison door's lock, because when it was originally designed, this "lock" didn't even have a key, and perhaps not even a keyhole.
It was only through Yogg-Saron and the other Old Gods' patient waiting and erosion over a long period of time that they finally managed to grind out a keyhole in the "lock" of this cage.
But they were prisoners after all, with too many restrictions, so they had to resort to various methods to get outside entities to help them unlock the door.
Loken almost succeeded; he was close to forging the key when his will was shattered by Arthas. But his actions still created a flaw in the perfect, Titan-designed prison.
Yogg-Saron's current state is like the prison door having a slight crack; he can extend a hand or a finger, but still cannot fully influence reality with all his power, otherwise Arthas would now be standing in Yogg-Saron's "divine realm."
And it was precisely this state that gave Arthas enough time and opportunity to explore how the Old Gods' power was transmitted—he had other ways to quickly break Yogg-Saron's illusion, but he chose the slowest and most difficult one, precisely for this moment.
Arthas stared at Yogg-Saron. Although Yogg-Saron was still in a sealed state, Arthas didn't know what other means he had, so to prevent Yogg-Saron from having any hidden tricks, Arthas intended to give him no chance.
He had already figured out how the energy flowed within the Old Gods' bodies. Thanks to the Titans' prison design, some of Yogg-Saron's energy pathways were clearly visible, and Arthas was also amazed by the perfection of these Ancient God "creations"; they themselves were like highly efficient energy conduction systems, which is why they could draw power from the world-soul and grow into mountains of flesh and continents.
Arthas planted Frostmourne into the ground, freeing his hands, and picked up the holy tome formed from light of dawn.
Yogg-Saron didn't know what Arthas was going to do, but his instincts suddenly began to warn him frantically—a terrifying premonition he had never experienced, not even when he was pushed to the brink by the constructs and was about to fall into eternal imprisonment.
Such a sense of crisis forced Yogg-Saron to act. His surrounding tentacles and massive mouths began to writhe madly. Terrifying Void impacts seemed to transform the entire underground cavern into a chaotic space before the birth of the universe, and the mind-corroding whispers of madness were incessant.
This terrifying offensive hadn't yet threatened Arthas, but Loken, who lay beside Yogg-Saron, suffered first. He was already severely wounded, and Yogg-Saron's desperate outburst completely disregarded his existence. The terrifying Void energy instantly consumed Loken, turning him into Yogg-Saron's nourishment, spawning countless Void constructs.
The commotion erupting in the underground cavern could no longer be concealed by the spells Loken had previously cast. Dark energy rapidly leaked outwards. Malygos, who was currently entangled with the Guardians, immediately sensed something was wrong. With a flick of his tail, he sent the pouncing Thorim and Hodir flying, while simultaneously unleashing a powerful blast of freezing dragonbreath, freezing Mimiron, who was controlling mechanical constructs to attack him, into a large ice sculpture.
The Guardians' strength had severely declined after enduring the dual torment of Loken and Yogg-Saron. This battle was easier than Malygos had originally anticipated.
However, repelling three Guardians in quick succession still exposed a weakness in Malygos. A verdant vine pierced through Malygos's mana shield, instantly coiling around one of his front claws and a pillar.
"Freya, snap out of it." Malygos now spewed scorching Arcane flames, incinerating the encroaching vines, but he couldn't stop Freya from passing through the wall of fire, wielding an ancient wooden staff, preparing to break his spine.
The situation instantly grew tense. Malygos could, of course, unleash greater power to repel Freya, but even he couldn't perfectly control the might of such magic. Freya, in her current state, would likely face a grim fate if she took another hit.
However, seeing Freya approaching through the flames, Malygos was forced to make a choice, otherwise, if he were severely wounded, the result would be that neither he nor the four Guardians would make it out alive.
Without hesitation, Malygos immediately began to chant. Arcane runes instantly surrounded Freya. The maddened Freya tried to swing her staff to shatter the runes, but their number increased rather than decreased; for every one Freya shattered, five or six new runes would light up.
And at this moment, each rune contained terrifying power. Malygos, no longer intending to hold back, stirred all controllable magical energy. The immense crisis caused Freya's body to tremble. Innumerable vines materialized around her, attempting to envelop her to prevent magical destruction.
But in that brief moment, the rapidly growing vines suddenly slowed, as if time itself had become stagnant, and Freya's movements also became slow and clumsy.
Malygos reacted immediately. He quickly directed the runes to blast towards the escaping dark energy fields, not letting the attack land on Freya, and simultaneously used magic to free himself from the vines that had bound him.
The Weaver spoke again, his tone slightly sarcastic, but his mood considerably lighter, "Nozdormu, my brother, I thought you would hide in the shifting sands forever, being a coward."
As Malygos's words fell, fine grains of sand began to swirl in the hall, gradually coalescing into the shape of a colossal dragon.
The Lord of Time, Nozdormu! At this critical juncture, he finally emerged from the River of Time, reappearing in the world.
Nozdormu, having restrained Freya, then gripped Mimiron, who was frozen solid. He looked at Malygos, "Take Thorim and Hodir, let's get out of here quickly."
Malygos, now with free hands, used magic to bind the two Guardians who still wanted to fight, but shook his head, "You take them and go. I have to help Arthas. Those disgusting auras must be coming from Yogg-Saron—"
The Weaver's words were cut short by Nozdormu, "You cannot go. I don't know what Arthas is doing, but the destinies of the Old Gods and Arthas are shrouded in thick mist, and even the timestream there is constantly collapsing. Yet, I can see that your timestream is still normal. If you go, it will lead to terrible consequences."
"Terrible consequences?" Malygos scoffed at this, "Arthas isn't afraid to face an Ancient God alone, do you think I would be afraid?"
Nozdormu, however, was not surprised by this, instead looking as if he had expected Malygos to say that. He directly stated a reason for leaving that Malygos could not refuse, "Arthas doesn't need our help. Alexstrasza is the one who needs our help. Neltharion is here!"
Malygos's expression instantly changed. He was silent for a moment, then picked up Thorim and Hodir, and began to cast a teleportation spell, "If you dare to lie to me, I will show you what Arcane wrath is."
*****
Neltharion had indeed arrived.
He was still recuperating. In the battle of Grim Batol, the Demon Soul was shattered, and he suffered serious injuries. The severe wounds made him intend to stay in Deepholm for a longer period, waiting for the brand-new elementium plates to be installed and the surging flames from within him to be suppressed before resuming his plans.
But the escalating whispers in his ear made it impossible for him to recuperate peacefully—although the Old Gods' corruption had deeply penetrated Neltharion's blood and essence, he still retained a certain "unique" logic. At least, he was unwilling to be manipulated by the Old Gods, but in his madness, he had lost the ability to discern, often unaware that everything was actually being orchestrated by the Old Gods behind the scenes.
The unhealed wounds on his body made Neltharion's mood extremely irritable, but if he didn't head in the direction indicated by the whispers, he might not last until the elementium plates were fully installed.
To reach the direction guided by the whispers as quickly as possible, Neltharion even suppressed his constantly growing desire for destruction, avoiding causing terrifying disasters along the way, intending to proceed as stealthily as possible.
However, he also knew that the commotion caused by his renewed flight across the skies of Azeroth would certainly be "considerable." Perhaps the mortal races wouldn't notice, but it was only a matter of time before his several brothers and sisters, who had regained their power, discovered his whereabouts.
Neltharion could not have imagined at this moment that the whispers driving him to near madness were actually the Old Gods' "distress signal," and this signal was directly leading him to the battlefield where the Dragon Army, the Scourge, and the Iron Army were clashing, and three of his four siblings had been waiting there for a long time.
However, Neltharion was not the only one to receive the signal from Yogg-Saron; the followers of the Twilight's Hammer and the remaining Old Gods also received Yogg-Saron's frantic message.
Leaving aside how many truly devout followers in the Twilight's Hammer could withstand Yogg-Saron's indiscriminate mental pollution, the other two Old Gods felt only deep confusion the moment they received the signal—
What was Yogg-Saron up to?
After Aman'Thul's decisive action to kill Y'Shaarj, Yogg-Saron was the most powerful among the three remaining Old Gods, so after his defeat, Yogg-Saron enjoyed a special "gift package" all to himself.
That was, Ulduar, the hall of the Guardians who monitored the Old Gods, was directly above Yogg-Saron's prison. This was a special treatment that the other two Old Gods did not enjoy.
N'Zoth and C'Thun were both trying everything to escape their prisons, and in fact, the three of them had already discovered some loopholes in their prisons over the long passage of time, allowing them to communicate with each other through various means.
Of course, these shared messages were "carefully selected" by them, because the Old Gods were not just seeking to escape; they hoped that only one of them would escape, making it easier to "inherit the legacy" of the other two Old Gods who had not yet escaped.
Unfortunately, over tens of thousands of years, they tried every possible method and exhausted every means, but they could not find a way out of their prisons.
It wasn't until the Burning Legion arrived ten thousand years ago, and the explosion of the Well of Eternity shattered the ancient continent of Kalimdor. No matter how sturdy a prison was, it could not remain unaffected by that explosion.
Indeed, after the Great Sundering, all three Old Gods detected a slight weakening of their prisons, and these slight weaknesses became the dawn of their escape from captivity.
Yogg-Saron and C'Thun successively found loopholes in their prisons, leaving only N'Zoth still dormant deep within the ocean, showing no activity.
C'Thun and N'Zoth currently didn't know what trouble Yogg-Saron had encountered, but this didn't affect their complete lack of intention to help. After all, although they could already mobilize some power to influence reality, this power was certainly not meant to help a future enemy.
The remaining prisons also simultaneously blocked their vision, forcing them to rely on their followers to know what was happening afar, and Ulduar, where Yogg-Saron was located, was beyond their reach, no matter how far they extended their influence.
So N'Zoth and C'Thun only heard Yogg-Saron's plea for help, but they didn't take it to heart, even thinking that it would be best if Yogg-Saron had messed up, crashed, and was beaten half to death by those Titan Guardians.
Thus, the only "allies" who could help Yogg-Saron escape his predicament were, in fact, blocked one by one before Arthas's plan began. Now, he faced Arthas alone.
While attempting to send out a distress signal, Yogg-Saron also cautiously guarded against Arthas, though he still found it hard to believe Arthas had the means to kill him.
Frostmourne was a terrifying runeblade, but it still couldn't devour an entire Ancient God's soul, and while light of dawn was a powerful Holy Light artifact, it would take who knows how many years to destroy an Ancient God's entire body.
If it wasn't these two powerful weapons, then was it Arthas's own power?
But Arthas was strong, yet how could he be as strong as a creation Titan? If not a cosmic giant like a creation Titan, then how could one kill an Ancient God?
Yogg-Saron frantically pondered with his dark wisdom, but he still couldn't find the answer.
While evading Yogg-Saron's attacks, Arthas had already marked a section of an energy transmission node on Yogg-Saron's body, but this was only a tiny fraction compared to Yogg-Saron's entire body. Even if Arthas wanted to use Holy Light to annihilate the Void, what effect could such a small amount of damage have?
Yogg-Saron was utterly bewildered, but Arthas's attacks did not cease. He swung his tentacles, imbued with chaotic Void energy, towards Arthas.
However, Arthas no longer dodged. He simply stood in the direct path of Yogg-Saron's attack, unhurriedly raising light of dawn, which had transformed into a shield.
At this moment, the Holy Light crystal embedded in the center of light of dawn erupted with an unprecedented brilliance—Holy Light descended from the sky, directly piercing through Storm Peaks' millennia-old thick cloud cover, penetrating the towering mountains, like a spear thrown by a god, striking directly into this deep underground cavern, answering Arthas's call.
The battlefield outside Ulduar even paused for a moment because of this, and many Dragons and Scourge soldiers looked up at the sky in shock, unsure of what was happening.
And it was at this moment that Yogg-Saron suddenly felt the shadow of "death" instantly engulf him, but the attack from his tentacles was too swift to be recalled!
The universe was born from the collision of Light and Shadow. When the two most antithetical energies in the world collided, a violent tremor inevitably occurred. This vibration caused ripples in time and space, like a dragonfly landing on the water, creating a small circle on Azeroth.
The Necromancers far away in Icecrown Citadel sensed a summons. They utilized the rituals they had long prepared, injecting all the Sunwell water Arthas had given them into the magic circle at this moment. The immensely powerful well water became the first "wave" to propel the Soul Engine!
It was just a pity that the amount of their well water was still too little, only able to drive the engine for a very short time, but this amount of time was already enough. With the roar of the engine, massive amounts of energy were directly injected through conduits into the very top of Icecrown Citadel—the Frozen Throne.
A tremendous amount of energy passed through the lens-like Frozen Throne, and guided by the helm of domination, it shot straight towards the sky.
"Bang!"
With a tremendous sound like shattering glass, Icecrown Glacier's ethereal blue sky suddenly shattered. Amidst the lightning and fragments of spatial rupture, a hideous spire inverted in the sky.
Icecrown Citadel's main tower and this spire seemed like reflections in water, and at the moment the sky shattered, thick black mist suddenly formed clouds, pouring out from the fractured sky.
"What's happening at Icecrown Glacier?!"
The anomaly at Icecrown Glacier could be seen from almost everywhere in Northrend, and Malygos and Nozdormu, who had just withdrawn from Ulduar, witnessed this scene with their own eyes.
Malygos gazed at the sky in horror. He looked at the inverted spire in the sky, unable to suppress a gasp, "The veil between the Shadowlands and reality… it's broken?"
Nozdormu was also staring at the scene in the sky at this moment, but he said nothing. Only his relieved expression indicated that he seemed to understand something, but the Bronze Dragon King had no intention of telling his brother.
Except for Arthas and the Necromancers who already knew part of the plan, everyone was shocked. And just as the black mist from Maw was about to surge out, a fleshy tendril, as thick and towering as the spire, suddenly appeared out of thin air, as if reaching directly from the Void, and plunged straight into Maw.
And it was not merely a simple "plunge"; the tendril's compression seemed to exert immense pressure on space, forcing the black mist that was originally spreading towards Azeroth back in.
Then, that tendril suddenly erupted with two completely different energies: one was Holy Light, and the other was Void.
The explosion and tremors caused by the energy collision quickly occurred again above Icecrown Citadel. The violent shaking directly cleared the nearby clouds, even dislodging millennia of accumulated snow from the snow-capped mountains, forming roaring avalanches that altered the topography of glaciers and peaks.
And after this explosion, the shattered veil in the sky actually began to slowly reform, until the reflection of the hideous spire and the eerie dark red sky were replaced by the eternal ethereal blue sky.
What happened in those short tens of seconds left all eyewitnesses bewildered, with only a few discerning some clues.
Malygos had already returned to the Dragon Army's position; he transformed back into his human form, gazing at the sky that had reverted to its original state. "So the other side of the Icecrown Glacier is the Shadowlands? No wonder it's perpetually covered in chilling death energy."
"What just happened, Malygos?" Alexstrasza rushed over. "That veil behind me fills me with a deep sense of unease."
"A massive burst of energy erupted from Icecrown Citadel, piercing the veil between our world and the Shadowlands," Malygos explained. "But then that Old Gods' tendril suddenly appeared; the void and Holy Light within it collided and exploded. The power generated by the explosion of these two forces can both cause temporal tremors and repair space-time, so the shattered spatial veil reassembled."
"It was twice," the usually taciturn Nozdormu, the Riddler, suddenly interjected. "There was a tremor even before the veil shattered; this tremor first weakened the veil. The Old Gods' tendril was the second, neutralizing the first tremor and the energy burst from Icecrown Citadel, allowing the shattered space-time to be repaired."
"Did you see anything else?" Malygos turned and asked.
"I only saw that," Nozdormu shook his head. "The Shadowlands has its own unique laws and order; it is the realm of death, and time is meaningless to death."
Malygos was silent for a moment, then said, "Perhaps we should ask Arthas; this matter is most likely related to him."
"It is certain," Nozdormu emphasized. "I've been watching him for a long time; he is the most unique one among countless timelines—timelines collapse, are destroyed, and are reborn on him. His and Yogg-Saron's fates shouldn't have been this way, nor should ours."
"Heh, fate?" Malygos dismissed Nozdormu's statement, glancing sideways at the Bronze Dragon King. "Let's not talk about that for now. Tell me, Neltharion has arrived, where is he now?"
Nozdormu subtly stepped back half a pace, and said in a deep voice, "On his way."
...
"What have you done?!"
Yogg-Saron simply couldn't comprehend it. He thought his followers and servants were mostly madmen, but today he truly learned what a real madman was.
Arthas, relying on a portion of the nodes he had just marked within Yogg-Saron's body, had forcibly gained temporary control over a part of his physique. It was precisely at the moment his attack collided with Arthas's that Arthas was able to forcefully dominate this section of the tendril. The instability of space conveniently allowed Yogg-Saron's tendril to easily pierce through the void, directly into Maw, and even deeper into the river of the underworld.
Before Yogg-Saron could break free from the control, Arthas, dominating the tendril, forcibly connected it to a part of the river of the underworld.
Immediately after, Yogg-Saron regained control of the tendril, and as he was about to drag it back from Maw, he discovered that this section of the tendril was tightly embedded in space-time due to the explosion, just as Yogg-Saron usually extracts energy from the void with his tendrils. Only this time, he was not extracting energy, but a part of the river of the underworld.
Now Yogg-Saron couldn't remain calm. He wanted to immediately sever his connection with this tendril, but the river of the underworld also had "water pressure"; high-pressure water naturally flows to low-pressure areas—compared to the souls of countless worlds and the inherent properties of the river of the underworld, Yogg-Saron was the low-pressure side.
Thus, this pressure caused this part of Yogg-Saron's body to become more and more firmly embedded with the river of the underworld, and more and more sinful souls directly poured into Yogg-Saron's body, treating his body as a new riverbed, and began to wildly impact and destroy along with the never-ending flow of the river of the underworld.
Yogg-Saron clearly felt that those souls were frantically scouring his body, and even more terrifying, they were eroding Yogg-Saron's control over his own body.
As Arthas discovered, the bodies of the Old Gods possess excellent energy conductivity, which allows soul flow to move through their bodies with very low resistance, naturally not dispersing to other areas of high "resistance." Such continuous, inexhaustible soul impact, even for an Old Gods, is simply unbearable.
The Arbiter was not yet offline, and every soul cast into Maw by the Arbiter was a force to be reckoned with. Even in a dazed soul state, when they collided with Yogg-Saron's power, they fearlessly revealed their claws.
One or two such souls, Yogg-Saron could naturally easily crush, or even enslave them. But when countless souls poured into his body, treating his body as a riverbed and battlefield, Yogg-Saron was powerless to stop them.
He was, after all, only an Old Gods on one planet, not a Void Lord capable of devouring the entire physical universe.
Arthas's condition at this time was not good either. A direct confrontation with Yogg-Saron was one thing, but simultaneously dominating an Old Gods' body, fighting against the Old Gods, transmitting energy, and at the same time having to spare a hand to confirm whether the coordinates guided by the helm of domination were correct was another matter entirely.
This series of seemingly effortless, lightning-fast operations exhausted Arthas. He was leaning on the somewhat dim light of dawn, breathing heavily, and his original Titan form could no longer be maintained, reverting to his normal human appearance.
The enraged Yogg-Saron immediately wanted to kill Arthas before dealing with his own problems. Fortunately, his body was massive, and he could hold on for a while. As long as no one disturbed him, he was confident he could sever his connection with Maw.
But Arthas showed no fear; instead, he revealed a triumphant smile. "You go to someone else's lair to steal things, and you don't even put the owner in your eyes?"
Arthas's words caused Yogg-Saron's thoughts to terrifyingly halt for a moment. Soon, he felt the flow of the river of the underworld suddenly become even more terrifying.
This surge in flow became the final "mountain" that broke the camel's back. Yogg-Saron's flailing tendrils were instantly crushed into underwater seaweed by the wave of souls, beginning to sway wildly.
"You... this cannot change... Azeroth's... fate..." Yogg-Saron's will was carried further and further away by the rolling wave of souls. Although he wouldn't die for a while, such a massive and chaotic scour from the river of the underworld made his control over his body weaker and weaker.
After more than ten seconds, Yogg-Saron's body completely became the riverbed for a tributary of the river of the underworld. An Old Gods who had wreaked havoc on Azeroth for countless eons completely vanished into the river of the underworld.
Arthas couldn't help but let out a long sigh.
He admitted, there was an element of gamble. If The Jailer hadn't "helped" him just now, he might indeed have had to temporarily avoid the conflict and rest for a while before dealing with Yogg-Saron's problem.
In that case, some of his arrangements might have become useless, but the outcome was good; he gambled correctly.
Arthas deliberately manipulated Yogg-Saron's tendril to intercept the flow of the river of the underworld precisely because he knew that the Pantheon of Death and the Void forces were also at odds. When Yogg-Saron's tendril extended into Maw, that brief moment would only make The Jailer think it was an Old Gods who didn't know his place and came to "steal electricity."
As the ruler of Maw, how could The Jailer tolerate an Old Gods causing such chaos in his territory? But Arthas's operation completely buried the Old Gods' tendril within space. The Jailer either had to go to great lengths to "dig out" this section of the tendril from the river of the underworld, or directly increase the flow to drown this "greedy" Old Gods.
In any case, the river of the underworld is actually a cosmic rule, and it will eventually return to Maw in the Shadowlands. As long as the Old Gods is drowned, the flowing souls will still return to Maw; it's just equivalent to opening a new section of the riverbed.
And indeed, this tributary of the river of the underworld, "jointly" stolen from Maw by Arthas and Yogg-Saron, will eventually flow back into Maw from the place where Azeroth and the Shadowlands are most "proximate." And this back and forth, from The Jailer's perspective, might even open up more riverbeds, allowing him to trade with more entities capable of traversing the real planes, such as Helya and Mueh'zala, to acquire more souls.
However, The Jailer's idea was good, but Arthas had already made ample preparations—
Generally speaking, souls would return to Maw from the place where the real plane and the Shadowlands are most closely connected. However, this location on Azeroth is Icecrown Citadel, and beneath Icecrown Citadel, there are now a bunch of Soul Engines acting like water pumps.
Perhaps one day, when The Jailer is bored and personally goes into the river of the underworld to count countless souls, he might just discover that the number of souls flowing into Maw has decreased a bit?
With the energy from Maw, the Scourge could make more changes in the future, but soon, Arthas noticed some clues.
"Is it still like this after all...?" Arthas looked at Yogg-Saron, who had lost consciousness and turned into a riverbed for the River of Souls, and became even more vigilant.
This was not out of concern that Yogg-Saron hadn't truly died, or that he was being used as a riverbed by the River of Souls and had been tricked by The Jailer; after all, Yogg-Saron was still just an Old Gods, not a Void Lord.
Arthas's vigilance was directed at this River of Souls that had suddenly appeared in the world. As the "river" connected to Azeroth, the existence of the River of Souls had always caused some impact on Azeroth.
This impact was not significant, but it couldn't be called negligible. Under the stimulation of death energy, the undead of Azeroth would become more active, and with such a branch of the River of Souls, many undead would be drawn to it, which might lead to some unpredictable situations.
Arthas prepared to immediately send more personnel to guard the Soul Engine upon his return, and ideally, a screening system should be developed as soon as possible to prevent native Azerothian souls from being used as fuel.
Moreover, while the River of Souls activated Azeroth's soul energy and stimulated the revival of the dead, it was likely that the number of undead revivals on Azeroth would increase in the future.
However, it was fortunate that most of the River of Souls' energy was absorbed and utilized by Icecrown Citadel's Soul Engine. The small portion of power that dispersed was insufficient to plunge Azeroth into an undead frenzy, but some individuals who held strong obsessions in life, possessed extraordinary strength, and whose souls still lingered on Azeroth might very well be resurrected as a result.
"It seems I need to dispatch some 'Reclaimers' to prevent these powerful resurrected undead from causing trouble on Azeroth." Arthas sighed softly. Compared to the benefits gained and the losses inflicted on The Jailer, such side effects could be considered negligible. Furthermore, if these resurrected undead were willing, they could even join the Scourge, increasing its strength.
Arthas had never considered launching a large-scale undead purge on Azeroth, transforming living beings into undead warriors. Death and life are a unified cycle of opposition; if life ceased to exist, then death would also cease to exist.
Such arrogant actions would undoubtedly bring destruction to all of Azeroth, but this extreme idea of transforming life into undeath gave Arthas an idea.
If a complete soul were placed into a controllable shell, wouldn't that be equivalent to having an endless supply of troops?
Maldraxxus in the Shadowlands uses this method to select suitable "pilots" to control the constructs built by their artisans. However, the abominations of the Shadowlands have their unique aspects; at the very least, their raw materials are certainly different from ordinary flesh and blood in the real world.
Azeroth doesn't have that many "excellent" quality raw materials to create a construct army. However, since death and life balance and promote each other, perhaps the Scourge truly has a "feral" life form that meets the requirements.
That's right, the Primal Thornbeast seed.
Primal Thornbeasts are the epitome of Draenor's ancient wild life. These colossal plant beasts, evolved from Draenor's primordial plant life, possess the ability to construct an entire ecosystem. This almost god-like power led them to be worshipped as deities in the primitive beliefs of Draenor's civilizations.
But just as animals gnaw on plants, Primal Thornbeasts and the plant life they foster also require sufficient nourishment. Aside from drawing from the planet itself, flesh and blood creatures are the best "fertilizer" for their flowerbeds.
In short, for Primal Thornbeasts to create intelligent beings, they require both souls and nourishment.
Soul energy in the cosmos is, of course, almost infinite, but the amount that can settle on a planet is limited. The reason Azeroth can nurture so much life is not only due to the Titans' creation but also its inherent ability to attract massive amounts of soul energy.
These soul energies settled on the planet, or rather, something akin to primordial anima, combined with the Elemental Creatures on the planet, led to the birth of Azeroth's ancient Elemental Creatures.
Life is thus able to continue endlessly. And now, Arthas happens to hold a Primal Thornbeast seed. In the past, the Scourge's resources were "scarce," insufficient to support such a giant beast's voracious appetite. But now, Yogg-Saron himself is a massive flesh "mine"!
Arthas didn't think the Primal Thornbeast would be unable to digest the Old Gods' flesh. Draenor had, or rather, always had, a belief in Void life, but these insidious Void creatures simply couldn't corrupt the Evergrowth. The Void couldn't threaten these ancient life forms.
Moreover, Yogg-Saron's soul had already been thoroughly washed away by the River of Souls. Without the control of consciousness, a corpse might still emit an ominous and cursed aura capable of driving mortals mad, but for a creature like the Primal Thornbeast, it had no effect whatsoever.
With the Primal Thornbeast, the Scourge could utilize the Old Gods' body and the River of Souls to create an endless supply of troops, and those shattered, tormented souls squeezed by the Soul Engine could also be transformed into new members with complete souls through the Primal Thornbeast's ability!
This is not to mention the knowledge and wisdom the Scourge could extract from these souls themselves. Souls from countless worlds, all of them highly sinful individuals, were destined not to be ordinary criminals. They all, more or less, possessed ancient secrets and truths of their worlds.
After Yogg-Saron's death, his body, losing support, began to gradually sink. After watching Yogg-Saron's last tentacle fall into the River of Souls, Arthas braced himself.
"Now, all that's left is the aftermath..."
He planned to place a seal on this rift in the River of Souls, keeping it as far away from the real plane as possible, at least eternally slumbering beneath the earth, so as not to affect the normal cycle of life and death.
But shortly after his work began, a violent tremor interrupted Arthas's spell.
What happened?
Arthas felt the terrifying, earth-shattering commotion and immediately contacted Lothar, who was still commanding on the outer front line.
Lothar, sensing something, immediately shared his vision with Arthas. "You've already dealt with the Old Gods?"
"That's right, what's going on out there...?" Arthas looked at the scene in his soul vision, somewhat astonished.
"As you can see, a giant black dragon, wreathed in fire, suddenly charged into the battlefield, causing several casualties among the unsuspecting Dragonflights, and simultaneously collapsing half a mountain range, as well as parts of Ulduar's city walls."
Lothar relayed the message while ordering his high-ranking undead to tighten their lines. Since Arthas had already dealt with the culprit, they could also reduce their losses. Although under Arthas's protection, the souls of the undead would not easily be destroyed, losing too many bodies was still troublesome.
Anyway, that black dragon looked insane, merely aimlessly unleashing his power on the battlefield. Not only the dragons suffered, but also the fully corrupted constructs.
"That's Neltharion. Why would he appear in Northrend at this time?" Arthas resumed preparing the seal, filled with questions.
"How would I know? I'm just an ordinary dead person, how could I understand these secrets?" Lothar quipped while commanding, "But this Black Dragon King doesn't seem to be a match for Malygos and the others!"
"Neltharion is indeed powerful, but that doesn't mean he can act recklessly in front of multiple Dragon Aspects with the full power of a Guardian." Arthas also relaxed a bit. If it was just Neltharion, Malygos and the others could handle him completely. Moreover, from the visual, Neltharion seemed to have not yet completed his impervious Elementium armor.
"Woah, that looked painful." Lothar exclaimed, seeing a pale purple Arcane spear, dozens of meters long, directly pierce through one of Neltharion's wings. "It looks like if this Black Dragon King doesn't run, he might meet his end here today."
"That's fine too." Arthas replied casually, having shifted his attention away from the scene.
But soon, Lothar's next words forced him to pause his work.
"Uh, what's that blue light? Hmm... it looks like something humanoid, but it seems a bit too large, taller than those Vrykul, though somewhat similar to a construct."
Blue figure?
Arthas subconsciously turned his gaze back, and soon, the calm expression on his face vanished.
—Algalon?! Why is he appearing now!