By the time the SI:7's report reached Varian, three days had passed. The King of Stormwind sat on his throne, holding two letters from different individuals.
One was from SI:7's spymaster, Shaw. His outpost in Tanaris had discovered large-scale military movements by the Horde. SI:7's assessment was that the Horde's military strength had grown considerably, and they were gradually recovering to their former power during the Old Horde era.
However, another letter, a personal one from Jaina, the Lord of Theramore, stated a different matter: the ancient Nerubian, once sealed by the Elves and Dragons in the great desert of Silithus, were reawakening. The Alliance had to respond as quickly as possible, otherwise, when the Elves' hard-held front collapsed, the swarm would sweep across all of Azeroth. Kalimdor would certainly be the first to suffer, but the seemingly vast ocean would not stop the Nerubian's advance, and the nations of the Old World would inevitably become targets of the Nerubian.
With the two letters combined, Varian quickly guessed what the orcs wanted to do. Thrall was a shrewd Warchief, deeply understanding the principle that if the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold. Once the Night Elves were defeated, the consequences would affect all living beings in Kalimdor.
Casually setting Shaw's report aside, Varian carefully folded Jaina's letter, put it back in its envelope, and then asked Bolvar, who was at the foot of the throne's steps, "When can the Seventh Legion depart?"
Bolvar replied, "They are already prepared at the port, ready to depart at any time—it's just..."
"Is it because of the storm a few days ago?" Varian thought again of Anduin, who had suddenly burst into tears that day. Something major must still be happening in this world. "Never mind that for now. Jaina has already contacted Kul Tiras. The Alliance fleet will first gather at Boralus and then sail together towards Kalimdor."
"I understand, Your Majesty."
Varian nodded slightly, then looked at Shaw's report again. He hesitated slightly, then asked, "How long will it take to reach Silithus?"
This question startled Bolvar for a moment, but he immediately began calculating in his mind and quickly arrived at an approximate answer. "If we don't encounter any storms, with the help of the Kul Tiras Sea Sages, we could arrive in about a week at the earliest."
"A week? Hmm... still too slow. The pressure the Elves are enduring might be greater than we imagine," Varian's hand rubbed his chin. As he felt the friction of his stubble against his skin, he made another decision. "First, contact Dalaran and Lordaeron. We will jointly send a mixed elite mage contingent, and you will directly board an airship and set sail first."
"Those airships haven't been tested in actual combat. Won't that be too risky?" Bolvar was still skeptical of the new equipment that had just been deployed to the Alliance Legions and had not yet been proven in battle.
Although those airships looked magnificent, considering the Gnome technology's extremely high failure rate, Bolvar was somewhat worried that they might fall into the Endless Sea.
"Isn't going to Silithus a good opportunity for real combat? Bolvar, I remember you're not such a pedantic person."
"Alright."
Bolvar had a bit of a headache. He had always had a very low acceptance of novel modes of transportation. First, it was the portals specifically for mages, and this time, it was for those airships that had barely made any long voyages.
Now it seemed he either had to choose the mages' portals or take an airship.
-----------------
Meanwhile, high above Silithus, Kel'Thuzad was listening to reports from several Necromancers.
"The activity level of these Nerubian is even higher than we imagined, Archlich. In these past few days, all departments have suffered varying degrees of losses. Although the results of the battles are quite pleasing, if we continue this stalemate, Naxxramas (Floating City) alone will find it difficult to withstand the Nerubian's true main forces."
"These are minor matters. As long as Naxxramas doesn't crash, other losses are acceptable," Kel'Thuzad waved his hand, not caring much about such things. "Besides, haven't we harvested quite a few Qiraji corpses? Tell the Construct Quarter and the Plague Quarter to speed up."
The Scourge was not afraid of the Qiraji's attrition against them. Even with only Naxxramas (Floating City), relying on the necromantic arrays and Necromancers within, plus the countless insect corpses scattered everywhere, they could continuously produce new troops.
But Kel'Thuzad was not satisfied with the current situation. He had been ordered by the Lich King to conquer Ahn'Qiraj, yet after some time, they were still only operating outside the Beetle Wall. The seal on that wall separated the inside from the outside, almost like two different worlds. The physical spatial locations seemed connected, but were actually cut off by magic.
"I now need a way to enter the Beetle Wall, and a plague that can completely infect these Nerubian and turn them into undead. Stop reporting such useless information to me."
The Archlich impatiently dismissed his useless subordinates. The Necromancers left his hall trembling. Once no one was disturbing his thoughts, the Archlich reopened the link to the Eye of Naxxramas and began observing the situation in Silithus.
The Cenarion Circle and the Sentinel Force were engaged in a brutal tug-of-war with the Qiraji in various areas of the Silithus desert. Although both organizations consisted of elite troops and strong generals, they simply couldn't withstand the sheer number of insects. Large numbers of Nerubian and Nerubian commanders were pouring out from various sections of the Beetle Wall. It was hard to imagine what kind of chaos lay within that high wall.
Just as Kel'Thuzad was observing the battle in Silithus, accompanied by a hazy black mist, Arthas's image stepped out of the mist. He looked at Kel'Thuzad, "Have you found a solution?"
Seeing the Lich King's image descend, Kel'Thuzad quickly put away his scrying crystal ball and came to the center of the hall, in front of Arthas's illusion. "Your Majesty, I have had my apothecaries develop a plague targeting the swarm, but as long as the Beetle Wall stands, the plague will be difficult to spread into Ahn'Qiraj's interior. Several specialized plagues we tested before basically failed to enter Ahn'Qiraj's interior."
"Plagues alone won't solve those Nerubian. They are not mindless beasts, but an army with leaders and commanders. Even if your plague infects some of the insects, their high command will not hesitate to abandon those infected, letting them find an uninhabited place in the desert to fend for themselves."
Arthas was not optimistic about using plagues to solve the Qiraji problem, but he did not stop Kel'Thuzad's actions, because what if this master of necromancy could create some unexpected surprise for C'Thun and his Families?
However, there was another task for Kel'Thuzad to do now. In the Broken Isles, Lei Ji·Donghan had basically fallen into the trap and was preparing to summon the Burning Legion. For the next period, Arthas might not have the energy to focus on the war in Silithus, and could only leave it to Lothar and Kel'Thuzad to deal with C'Thun.
This was an extremely dangerous mission. C'Thun was actually a huge threat no less than the Burning Legion, but fortunately, he was still trapped beneath Ahn'Qiraj. This fortress was also his prison. The Beetle Wall merely sealed off the Nerubian army; what truly trapped C'Thun was the Temple of Ahn'Qiraj built by Ra and his followers.
"Horde and Alliance reinforcements will soon support the Night Elves. The frontal battlefield no longer requires our containment. Highlord Lothar will give you a location, move Naxxramas there. Don't disappoint me, Kel'Thuzad."
"Your will is our desire."
.....
Teldrassil, Darnassus.
A tall figure clad in chainmail and a large cloak entered the Moon God Temple; after inquiring about Tyrande's whereabouts, she walked directly to the Priestess who was staring blankly.
After standing in front of Tyrande for more than ten seconds, and realizing that Tyrande seemed completely unaware of her arrival, Maiev finally couldn't help but speak first.
"Tyrande? Are you alright?"
"Hmm?!" Tyrande suddenly snapped back to her senses. She looked at Maiev, her face full of questions, seemingly wondering why the Warden had returned to Darnassus, "Maiev? Didn't you go to Aszuna?"
"There was a slight mishap, I made a special trip back." Maiev's eyes flickered, clearly concealing a very important event.
Normally, Tyrande would have noticed the unnaturalness in Maiev's words, but in the past few days, the Priestess's spirits had been low, and coupled with pressing political matters, her attention was not at all on Maiev at this moment.
"Hmm…" Tyrande replied cursorily, then lowered her head to look at the documents on the table.
"This isn't like you, Tyrande, you should cheer up," Maiev frowned, her expression hidden beneath her feathered helmet, but the change in her tone indicated her dissatisfaction with Tyrande's current state, "Malfurion has his own choices, we should support him."
Tyrande sighed, staring at Maiev, "Do you think I'm like this because of Malfurion's departure? No—it's because there have been too many troubles lately, I haven't had a full night's sleep in days."
"Alright, then you should get some rest first, so you don't make wrong decisions due to exhaustion."
As Maiev spoke, she took something out from under her cloak. A scent of fel energy instantly permeated the sacred temple, causing even the somewhat listless Tyrande to tense up immediately.
After she clearly saw the object floating in Maiev's hand, the tension on Tyrande's face gradually turned into confusion, "This… what is this stone? I sense the Legion's aura from it."
"I found it on Illidan."
"You found him?" Tyrande's expression was somewhat startled. She knew about Illidan's disappearance from the Dark Temple, and it turned out that Maiev had finally captured him on Azeroth?
"Yes."
Maiev calmly stated this rather shocking fact. Fortunately, Tyrande was also someone who had seen many storms. A trace of nostalgia flashed in her eyes. Although Illidan had fallen beyond redemption (in the Night Elves' view), he was, after all, a friend from ten thousand years ago, and during the Battle of Mount Hyjal, Illidan did kill many demons. Regardless of his motives, Tyrande and Malfurion had extremely complex feelings for him.
However, Maiev did not have so many complicated emotions, at least not initially. Illidan was merely a prisoner who had escaped from her grasp, until she captured Illidan again. But this time was just luck; Illidan was severely wounded by the Weaver Malygos, and she and her Wardens managed to stealthily reach the Naga camp on a nearby island first, allowing them to set an ambush and capture Illidan.
Yet, even at his wit's end, Illidan still severely wounded several Wardens who were apprehending him. If not for him and his subordinate Vashj having endured several fierce battles and being exhausted, it was very likely he would have escaped from Maiev's grasp once more.
Unfortunately, there was no 'if'. Illidan had been apprehended. Maiev personally sealed his body in a specially made crystal prison. Vashj, however, survived the battle, but she is now imprisoned in the Warden's Vault.
After the battle, Maiev found this strange "stone" on Illidan's person. This thing emitted the stench of fel energy, and its material was beyond Maiev's comprehension. The only thing clear was that it must be extremely valuable, as it radiated powerful energy and was carried by Illidan at all times.
During their conversation, Tyrande summoned the power of Elune to shield the area around them, preventing the mysterious stone in Maiev's hand from affecting the temple. "I don't know what this thing is… Malfurion probably wouldn't know either, it's clearly not a native product of Azeroth."
"It must have been obtained by Illidan from some demon, but… this thing gives me a very dangerous feeling." Maiev once again examined her spoils of war.
"Perhaps you should ask the Dragons. If even they don't know what this is, then perhaps no one in this world knows its purpose." Tyrande could only tell Maiev to seek other experts. This item was indeed beyond her knowledge.
Just as Maiev put away the peculiar Prismatic Stone, a sudden thought flashed in Tyrande's mind. Her eyes widened, and her exhaustion almost completely vanished.
Maiev also noticed the change in Tyrande and said with a hint of envy, "A revelation from Elune?"
"Exactly."
Tyrande's voice deepened. Although Elune didn't explicitly state what the Prismatic Stone was, the revered Moon Goddess seemed to be urging them to deliver this stone as soon as possible to… Arthas?
After informing Maiev of this result, the Warden was also stunned, not expecting Elune's revelation to be linked to a human. But she also knew what was important and urgent. Once she knew who to take this thing to, she no longer delayed and immediately prepared to go find Arthas.
But before leaving the Moon God Temple, she looked back at Tyrande, seemingly wanting to say something but hesitating.
Tyrande looked at Maiev, who was hesitating, smiled and nodded, and said softly, "Go, I've also understood something during this time. We all have our respective missions."
-----------------
Fortunately, the Dragon Army's ambassador had not yet left Darnassus. Maiev didn't take much effort to find the Dragon Army envoy stationed in Teldrassil. The Dragon's illusionary form was quite peculiar, as it had chosen a Gnome as its appearance.
At this time, the Dragons had almost packed their belongings and were ready to withdraw. The camp was very simple, with only a few tents remaining, and flags bearing the Dragon Army's emblem.
The Dragon Ambassador sat on a wooden box almost as tall as she was, idly fiddling with a pocket watch.
However, the moment Maiev stepped into the camp, the Dragon Ambassador looked up and said in a cheerful tone, "Oh, you're finally here. I almost thought I had come to the wrong timeline again."
"Uh… what are you talking about?" Maiev found that she could understand every word the other party said, but when put together, the words made it difficult for her to comprehend.
"Don't mind it, just a little complaint. After all, our race often gets lost in time," Chromie jumped off the wooden box, looked up at Maiev, who was almost three times her height, hesitated for a moment, and then climbed back onto the box, "Alright, I'll just stand on this. At least it will keep my neck from hurting so much."
After tidying her robes, Chromie said to Maiev, "You're here to give me the sargerite keystone, aren't you?"
"So this thing is called 'sargerite keystone'?" Maiev frowned deeply. This spelling reminded her of… Sargeras.
"That's right, it's just as you think. This was personally forged by Sargeras, a key to open the gates of all realms," Chromie explained the ancient background of this item to Maiev, "Oh, aren't we lucky? This thing is now in our hands, not the Legion's."
"Wait, if this thing has the ability to travel across the cosmos directly to a world, why doesn't the Legion use it to reach Azeroth?" Maiev was puzzled. What puzzled her even more was why such an artifact, clearly of significant value within the Burning Legion, would be in Illidan's hands.
"Are you really a Kaldorei?" Chromie widened her eyes, "Coordinates, teleportation needs coordinates! The Legion doesn't have Azeroth's exact location. They either take interstellar warships to cross countless light-years of physical distance, or they have people on Azeroth open a portal for them that leads directly to the Legion's main base. Illidan's Demon Hunters ventured deep into the demon's domain and finally managed to snatch this thing from the demons stationed there."
A long speech made Maiev feel a bit dizzy, but she managed to accept the words that contained a massive amount of information. However, she immediately realized a problem.
"Snatch? Isn't Illidan just a pawn of the Burning Legion? Why would he go and snatch that Keystone?"
Maiev's body instantly stiffened. Illidan's words echoed in her mind again—A hunter who doesn't understand his prey will never catch his target.
Now Illidan had been caught, but did she truly understand what he was doing?
Looking at the Keystone in her hand, Maiev suddenly realized that this seemed to be a deception spanning ten thousand years. The lies Illidan wove had deceived everyone, even the Legion.
.....
"Has the Origin Engine been repaired, Mimiron? The situation in Silithus doesn't look optimistic."
Brann once again sought out Mimiron, who was busy at work. He had learned from Lothar that the Qiraji were trying everything to restore their master's glory.
"The Origin Engine isn't damaged; I'm just recompiling its authorization."
Mimiron had moved part of his laboratory to the Hall of Origination. He was currently hopping between several control panels that Brann couldn't understand at all, seemingly performing multi-threaded compilation operations simultaneously.
"The progress is quite pleasing. By my estimate—hmm, in at most 24 more hours, I'll be able to overwrite what Loken left behind and link Ulduar's permissions with the Hall of Origination."
Mimiron tapped the giant machinery, twisting his head 180 degrees to answer Brann's question.
"Alright, alright, I don't understand all this high-tech anyway," Brann walked up to a massive steel instrument, patted it twice, and then was startled by the sudden sound it made.
Fortunately, it was just the normal sound of the instrument operating. Realizing he hadn't broken anything again, Brann breathed a sigh of relief, "What about the other Guardians? I remember they came with you?"
"Oh, they're performing repair work in other parts of the Hall of Origination—though this hall has been sealed for ten thousand years, its damage is nearly as bad as Ulduar's. Those Tol'vir clearly didn't follow the UX-94562 operation manual, and their unauthorized use of the Origin Engine's power also damaged this building…"
Mimiron's sentences, interspersed with many complex Titan terms, made Brann dizzy. Coupled with the loud noise of the machines, the dwarf felt uncomfortably stifled. He bid farewell and left Mimiron's workshop, walking along a relatively intact corridor to a terrace. He finally felt better after breathing in the fresh air.
At this moment, the naxxanar outside the Hall of Origination made Brann start muttering again, "I still can't get used to this after so long… How exactly does that kid Arthas command these undead?"
A day earlier, Naxxramas had relocated from Silithus to Uldum. With the beacon the Guardian provided to Lothar, the magic concealing Uldum was as if nothing before the naxxanar. Kel'Thuzad easily maneuvered the naxxanar into Uldum's airspace.
Lothar and Anub'arak had also returned to the naxxanar. At this time, Lothar was discussing with Arthas the extent to which the Origin Engine's power should be used.
"I still think it's too risky. The Tol'vir once used the Origin Engine's power, and Uldum, which was almost turned into a barren desert, is the best warning for us."
Lothar still had doubts about using the power of Titan facilities, especially after he personally witnessed Uldum being turned into a desert by the immense power of the Origin Engine. If Mimiron hadn't shown him the scene of it being a rainforest ten thousand years ago, he wouldn't have believed that just a small part of this engine's power could destroy a continent.
"That's only because the engine's power had nowhere to vent and no one to guide it."
Arthas had never underestimated the power of the Origin Engine. Even the Old Gods believed that, apart from the facilities left behind by the Titans on Azeroth, no other power could kill them. Mortals might temporarily defeat the Old Gods' physical forms, but they would still have a chance to return from death.
The last time Yogg-Saron was completely annihilated was also because Arthas cleverly brought in the power of the Styx and Maw, which do not belong to the physical universe, and also because Yogg-Saron had completely unforeseen the fatal blow from "death," thus leading to his complete downfall.
"So this time we can precisely kill C'Thun without destroying other places? Besides, there are still mortal armies in Silithus. How will they evacuate this desert? We can't possibly let all the living forces of the Alliance and Horde be buried with C'Thun."
Arthas did not speak. Lothar watched Arthas's image and saw him take out a prism emitting a fel aura. The prism floated in his palm. At this moment, Arthas slowly said, "This stone is the key."
"sargerite keystone…" Lothar had learned about this from Arthas, but he still didn't understand what use the Burning Legion's teleportation keystone could have. "What help can it offer us?"
"It contains the coordinates of countless worlds occupied and destroyed by the Legion, including the Legion's main base, the former homeland of the Draenei—Argus," Arthas didn't explain, only began to recount the keystone's history to himself, "which means we can use this keystone to inversely locate the Legion's lair."
"We don't have enough strength to launch a counterattack against the Legion."
Perhaps one day Azeroth could sound the horn of counterattack, but certainly not today. The beings of Azeroth were not yet ready, and Lothar did not believe they had the ability to do so now.
In the Battle of Mount Hyjal, both the Alliance and the Horde paid a considerable price to repel the Legion's vanguard. The Night Elves, even more desperately, sacrificed Nordrassil to make Archimonde die with regret on the spot.
"Indeed," Arthas smiled, "but the Titans left many treasures for this world. Rather than letting them be lost to the erosion of time, let us use them to teach the Legion an unforgettable lesson."
Lothar frowned at his words, but soon his expression changed from confusion to shock and emotion. He looked at Arthas in disbelief, and only then did the Lich King's bold plan begin to take shape.
The Origin Forge, also known as the Origin Engine, had the power to change the landscape of an entire planet. But most importantly, the Titans and Titan Guardians did not define it as an environmental terraformer, but rather… a weapon.
Loken's purpose in installing the Origin Forge was to give Azeroth a chance to start over, and the hypothetical enemy of this weapon was the Old Gods, who had already been defeated, and the Void forces behind them.
However, the Titans had not anticipated Sargeras's betrayal, nor would they have foreseen that Sargeras would organize the Burning Legion, which ran rampant across realms. As a result, they never again had days to re-observe the condition of Azeroth, and the few Titan Guardians and their kin who remained on Azeroth gradually deviated from their original duties for various reasons.
Countless eons later, when the Titan Pantheon vanished into the cosmos and the Burning Legion ran rampant, the Old Gods of Azeroth also stirred. They might have guessed something, or perhaps they perceived the truth of the world through means incomprehensible to mortals. However, the facilities left behind by the Titans and their subordinate Guardians still stood on the continent. Even if buried by the sands of time, it did not mean they had lost their original power.
One must know that Ahn'Qiraj was not built by the Nerubian. They and C'Thun were, at most, squatters. Its essence was still a Titan facility built by Loken and his kin. The reason Mimiron was to overwrite the basic logic left by Loken was to allow the Origin Engine to exert its maximum efficacy, to unleash its power as a weapon.
"I hope the portal constructed by the sargerite keystone can withstand this blow."
Arthas's smile became enigmatic. The Origin Engine was not activated solely for C'Thun from the very beginning. He waved his hand, and this ancient keystone passed through the mist-like magical image, floating before Lothar.
"I have locked onto Argus's coordinates. Once there's enough energy to activate this keystone, the gateway to the Legion's lair will open wide, and this task is yours, Lothar."
When Lei Ji·Donghan attempts to open the portal in Sargeras' Tomb, Naxxramas will be responsible for activating the keystone in Lothar's hand. This is the final lure, and the true trap.
Suramar was never the place for the decisive battle. At most, it was merely a monitoring platform, a fortress used solely to prevent unforeseen circumstances.
.....
Deep in the starry sky, at the junction of the Great Dark Beyond and the Twisting Nether, where all light is extinguished and all hope perishes, lies the Burning Legion's war-fortress—Argus.
This scarred and tormented planet is wailing, its nearly cracked mantle reaching almost to the planet's core. The life-sustaining oceans and vegetation have long been burned away by fel, leaving only rugged, dark, lifeless land. Countless demons wander the planet's surface, like a true vision of hell; indeed, this is a real, existing purgatory on earth.
However, within Antorus, the Burning Throne, a furious Kil'jaeden made his demon officers tremble, for countless incompetent demons had already been annihilated by the Deceiver.
Demons do not fear death, partly because of their brutal and fearless nature, and partly because their souls are difficult to truly destroy. But on Argus, a unique location on the border of the Great Dark Beyond and the Twisting Nether, and due to the extremely high concentration of fel on Argus, being killed here means true death for a demon.
Nevertheless, a swift death on Argus might even be considered a blessing.
From the Burning Throne, buried deep within the planet's core, soul-shattering wails emanate ceaselessly. Countless souls, and perhaps something else, are undergoing terrible torment within this fortress.
Kil'jaeden released his grip, and a charred demon skull fell to the ground, rolling a few times before being crushed to dust by the Deceiver's heavy hoof. A breath escaped the Legion leader's mouth, immediately scattering the ashes of the demon who had just died miserably at his hands.
"Have you still not found that traitor's whereabouts?"
His eyes gleamed with dangerous and cunning light, and his sharp gaze swept over the silent demons. Even the brutal demons seemed docile at this moment.
Seeing that no one dared to speak, Kil'jaeden took a deep breath, suppressing his rising fury, and roared in a low voice, "Get out of my sight, you useless trash."
After the Deceiver finished speaking, the trembling demons, as if granted a great pardon, fled as if greased, fearing that any delay would make them as unlucky as the one who had just turned to ash.
Only after the piles of useless creatures were out of his sight did Kil'jaeden fully suppress his rage, but a persistent irritation remained within him, which greatly displeased Kil'jaeden.
"Stop hiding, Archimonde. I didn't call you here today to watch these useless creatures make fools of themselves."
Kil'jaeden's words made Archimonde, who was hiding in the shadows, stop concealing himself. The Despoiler's massive soul form appeared, floating not far from Kil'jaeden. He let out a low chuckle, "These useless creatures making fools of themselves? Heh heh, is it possible I wanted to watch you make a fool of yourself?"
"Then suit yourself. Don't think you can escape blame," Kil'jaeden waved his hand impatiently. He stared at Archimonde's soul, frowning as he demanded, "What exactly is wrong with you? Why haven't you restored your physical body after all this time?"
Kil'jaeden's questioning made Archimonde stop laughing. Indeed, after the defeat at Mount Hyjal, although no one dared to mock him given his standing within the Burning Legion, apart from Kil'jaeden and Sargeras, his prolonged inability to restore his physical body had given rise to many rumors within the Legion. Some unruly demons even set their sights on his position as The Despoiler.
"My body was destroyed once at Mount Hyjal, but those elves' tricks couldn't harm my soul at all. However, someone took advantage of that moment to trip me up from behind."
Archimonde's voice turned malicious. If he hadn't been unsure who had done it, he would certainly have made that person endure the most horrific tortures in Antorus.
"My soul was contaminated by a pile of incomprehensible, chaotic soul fragments. A master of soul manipulation collected the soul fragments of those who died in that battle and forcibly mixed them into my soul when I was banished back to the Twisting Nether. The chaotic energy storm at the time prevented me from even noticing it."
The Despoiler had never imagined that his soul could be tampered with by others. Even after he returned to Argus, he didn't discover the problem until he was preparing to reshape his body, only then realizing the "residue" left in his soul.
It was a "soul poison" composed of the souls of small elves and other mortals collected by Arthas after their deaths—in reality, these soul fragments, which were about to dissipate, were not so toxic to other souls, at most becoming a chaotic soul mixture. But for the unique demon soul, the forced combination of mortal souls with one's own was itself a form of contamination.
It was only because Archimonde was powerful enough to gradually remove these souls; otherwise, a contaminated demon soul might not be able to complete its body's reshaping, and then being re-exposed to the Twisting Nether after physical death would be extremely dangerous.
When Kil'jaeden learned the truth, he no longer questioned or rebuked Archimonde for taking so long to recover. Archimonde's description, along with the Dreadlords missing in Azeroth, made Kil'jaeden suspicious.
Undoubtedly, Dreadlords are mostly masters of soul manipulation, seeming like a worthy object of suspicion, but Kil'jaeden felt that it wasn't that group of bats who had secretly set a trap for Archimonde.
It wasn't that Kil'jaeden didn't suspect them; he simply believed that the Nathrezim wouldn't make a move at this time. In fact, Kil'jaeden had never fully trusted that group of bats. Their so-called civilization was full of holes. Perhaps the lofty Sargeras couldn't see anything, but as the former leader of the Eredar, Kil'jaeden had long since noticed something was amiss.
However, the Nathrezim were at least outwardly loyal to the Legion. Even though he knew they harbored ulterior motives, they were at least busy with their tasks, so Kil'jaeden turned a blind eye. This was because people whose problems you knew were not terrifying; what was terrifying were those whose true nature you knew nothing about.
Now it seemed that the person they knew least about was on Azeroth. Whether it was Archimonde, who discovered he had been tricked after the defeat at Mount Hyjal, or their bases in Outland that had been eradicated, and the recently stolen sargerite keystone... besides Illidan, someone else was disrupting the Legion's plans.
Just as Kil'jaeden was about to discuss the next course of action with Archimonde, a message interrupted them.
The content of the message was very simple; it was from Hasabel, who controlled the Burning Legion's teleportation hub. And the reason she sent the message was also simple—an ancient portal had opened, and the portal's destination was... Azeroth.
Kil'jaeden and Archimonde suddenly exchanged glances—What was happening?
When Kil'jaeden heard the news about Hasabel, his first reaction wasn't excitement, but rather deep suspicion; his intuition told him there was something peculiar behind this matter.
Archimonde, however, didn't feel anything particular, because he discovered that the one who opened the portal was Lei Ji·Donghan, an Archlich who had been under his command during the Battle of Mount Hyjal.
Although he was banished back to the Twisting Nether, it didn't mean Archimonde was ignorant of the subsequent developments of the campaign; most of the demons were annihilated at Mount Hyjal, but a considerable number of stragglers still retreated from the front lines, scattered across various regions of Kalimdor.
The batch of demons led by Lei Ji·Donghan was one of them; Archimonde was pleasantly surprised that he had managed to escape the heavy encirclement of the Night Elves' Sentinel Force to the Broken Isles and even opened a portal in Sargeras' Tomb.
Sometimes, surprises often come from things you completely unexpected, for instance, Archimonde never held any hope for the demons remaining on Azeroth, considering them merely incompetent trash, but today Lei Ji·Donghan taught him a lesson: even trash has its uses.
Perhaps it was precisely because he was so useless that he managed to evade the Night Elves' surveillance and sneak onto the Broken Isles; if a high-ranking demon like Azgalor had been left behind, he would likely have been wiped out by Azeroth's native forces in short order.
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; if you succeed, you will have accomplished what even Sargeras could not. I only regret that my physical body has not fully recovered, otherwise the one to achieve this great feat would surely be me, not you, Kil'jaeden."
Archimonde's slightly provocative words made Kil'jaeden frown repeatedly; he scoffed at The Despoiler's rhetoric.
"Archimonde, unless your brain has been burned out by fel, do not try to provoke me with such low-level rhetoric."
"Oh, hehe, my brother, what will you do then? Will you just watch this great opportunity slip away? You know, the Dark Lord's patience is also limited; you need to achieve something."
Illidan was once considered Kil'jaeden's subordinate, and the mess he caused was far from small; the Illidari broke through Mardum and stole the sargerite keystone. Although Kil'jaeden suppressed this matter and prevented it from spreading widely within the Legion, it doesn't mean it had no impact at all.
Although Archimonde was defeated at Mount Hyjal, he at least made the Night Elves pay a heavy price; both the Well of Eternity and the World Tree suffered severe damage in that great war. This kind of attrition warfare always favors the Legion, because their army is endless.
In contrast, Kil'jaeden incited the orcs to invade Azeroth, but after breaking free from Gul'dan's control, the orcs bit back at the Legion and are now allied with Azeroth, fighting the Legion relentlessly. Even the front-line outpost in Draenor was dismantled by the Alliance, and most absurdly, the seemingly loyal Illidan was actually full of rebellion, achieving, with only the Illidari, what all races on many planets combined had never accomplished: counterattacking Burning Legion strongholds.
Mardum suffered heavy damage in that attack, and the stationed troops were severely weakened. Coupled with the theft of the sargerite keystone, guarding the place became meaningless, and the Burning Legion is gradually abandoning this stronghold.
This might be the Burning Legion's first truly meaningful 'failure' in millions of years; even their first invasion of Azeroth could only be considered a mere expulsion, as the demons' true power had not fully landed on Azeroth before they were repelled by the combined forces of the elves and other races who had bathed in Azeroth's primal energies.
Therefore, Kil'jaeden is now far more eager than Archimonde to achieve something, and the Burning Legion's ultimate goal, Azeroth, is currently before Kil'jaeden's eyes. Coupled with the fervent call of his worshipper, Lei Ji·Donghan, even if he knows there might be some issues behind this matter, Kil'jaeden's best choice is to plunge into the portal and once again spread the Burning Legion's might across Azeroth…
"So, are you ready, my old friend?"
Archimonde's voice echoed long in the fel hall. When Kil'jaeden came back to his senses, he found that his colleague's figure had disappeared, leaving only that last echo, half question, half provocation.
-----------------
"Saurfang!"
Garrosh, riding his wolf, leaped over the piles of Nerubian corpses, carrying two axes dripping with disgusting slime, and came to Varok's side. He glanced at the Nerubian remnants encircling Varok, wrinkling his nose, trying to minimize the nauseating smell entering his nostrils.
"Garrosh? What are you doing here? Has the defensive line been breached by the Nerubian?" Varok, gripping his war axe, was wiping off the slime with a piece of rags he'd found somewhere, preventing the liquid from corroding his weapon, while also asking Garrosh's purpose in surprise.
The two of them were separately commanding two vanguard units to intercept the Nerubian army in the northeast of the Beetle Wall. The Cenarion Circle was positioned directly in front of the Beetle Wall, and the Alliance forces from the Old World were covering the Cenarion Circle and the Sentinel Force to the southwest.
"It's far too early for those bugs to break through the lines of my brave warriors," Garrosh replied in a low, hoarse voice, "Instead, those bugs, they seem less frenzied than they were a while ago. My scouts say they're gradually retreating."
"My scouts have reported similar findings," Varok nodded.
"I think it's time to take the offensive. Haven't you noticed? These bugs are endless. We need to destroy their nest in one fell swoop and cut off their source of troops."
Garrosh had long grown tired of aimless defense. In his view, these bugs were like the demons of Draenor—simply endless. Instead of wasting time here fighting them, it was better to directly cut off their source of troops, just like destroying a demon portal.
"That's too reckless, Garrosh." Varok disagreed with Garrosh's opinion. His gaze drifted to the southwest, lost in thought.
"I think you're getting old, Saurfang. You've lost the valor of an Orc—"
"Enough, Garrosh, I am the supreme commander here," Varok waved his hand, interrupting Garrosh's taunt. He walked up to Garrosh, glaring down into Garrosh's eyes, "If you haven't been blinded by slaughter, then look into my eyes and calm down!"
Garrosh was momentarily speechless. Even though he instinctively wanted to retort to Varok, the burning anger and battle intent in Varok's eyes showed that he was far more valiant than any Orc soldier. Garrosh, who also held a warrior's honor in the highest regard, could not deny this.
After confirming that Garrosh had no intention of continuing his insolence, Varok reined in his intense aura and slowly said, "I'm not blind. I can see that those Nerubian are retreating, but they are controlled by something we don't understand at all. The Alliance knows more than we do, which is why they haven't rashly attacked. The Horde is still very vulnerable; we cannot gamble with the lives of our soldiers."
Garrosh was speechless, because just as Varok said, the Alliance, far stronger than the Horde, was staying put, showing no intention of pursuing the fleeing Nerubian. If they were to lead the Horde forward at this moment, wouldn't they be sacrificing the lives of Horde warriors to reduce the Alliance's casualties?
But the young Hellscream was still unwilling. "So, we just wait here and eat Silithus sand?"
"Don't rush, young one… You haven't experienced enough battles, but since yesterday, from the screeches of these bugs, who should be fearless, I've heard… fear."
A glint seemed to shine in Varok's weathered eyes. Bugs do not feel fear, but what about their masters, who clearly possess intelligence—will they feel fear?
....
"I have struck the Scarab Gong, and the gates of Ahn'Qiraj are about to open! Champions of Azeroth! We must hold the line and make these monsters, who covet our homeland, pay the price!"
As the roar of the Forest King's horn echoed across the battlefield, Malfurion's angry shouts reverberated through the wind along the entire front line, and the blessings from the forest were bestowed upon the champions of the Alliance and Horde at this moment.
A thunderous war cry erupted as the heavy gates of Ahn'Qiraj slowly opened, and a vast swarm of Nerubian flew out from the high walls simultaneously. Anubisath Sentinels, in groups, marched out from the open gates with steps that made the earth tremble.
However, the Alliance had already been tempered by the fires of Outland. The formations presented by the Burning Legion's demons and war machines were no less formidable than the scene before them. These elite soldiers were completely unshaken by the enemy's might; instead, their morale soared under the mobilization of their officers.
The Horde also dispatched elite soldiers, many of whom were veterans who had survived the Battle of Mount Hyjal. The Trolls, meanwhile, observed their ancient foes; in their legends, it was their ancestors who had defeated the invincible Aqir Empire, scattering the Nerubian into disarray.
A sky-darkening swarm of Nerubian charged towards the combined forces' front line, but very soon, the booming sound of artillery fire erupted from behind the clouds. Violent shockwaves dispersed the clouds as Alliance airships circled beneath the sky, using saturation fire to blast a massive gap directly within the swarm.
The Anubisath on the ground also noticed the airships raining down fire. Under the obscure and difficult-to-understand commands of the Nerubian generals behind them, these massive constructs casually picked up rocks from the ground, preparing to use the same method that defeated dragons in the past to shoot down the airships.
"Watch out!"
The First Officer of the Skyfire spotted the Anubisath's movements through his binoculars and immediately issued an order. The pilots operating the airships instantly pulled the vessels higher. The flying boulders almost scraped past the airship's bottom armor, and the entire ship felt the jolt as the giant rocks narrowly missed.
"We're being targeted! Get the ground forces to deal with those constructs quickly!" Admiral Rogers of the Air Force practically roared at his messenger, "Otherwise, we won't be able to provide any support!"
The Air Force's request was quickly relayed to the ground. The Dwarf artillery units in the rear immediately focused their main firepower on the Anubisath. The Anubisath's giant-like figures indeed posed a huge threat to ordinary soldiers, but they were also extremely conspicuous targets. Dwarf gunners barely needed to aim; mortar shells could land directly on these constructs.
However, the Anubisath's durability far exceeded the commanders' imagination. After a volley of artillery fire, the surfaces of several tall constructs were pitted and scarred, but they continued to operate normally, still trampling soldiers and throwing massive stones.
The attack on the artillery positions also attracted the Anubisath's attention. Some of the giants stopped attacking the aerial units and began throwing millstone-sized stone slabs towards the artillery positions. The heavy stones, wielded by the Anubisath, unleashed power comparable to artillery, and the artillery positions exploded into chaos almost instantly.
A Dwarf squad, carrying a mortar, hadn't had time to evacuate when a stone already flew over their heads. The Dwarves had no time to dodge. Just as they were about to be crushed, a pale green streak of light flew into the sand beneath their feet. In an instant, thick vines shot up from the ground, holding the incoming giant stone suspended in mid-air.
"Don't worry, we'll cover you!" The Elf Druids chanted spells. The magic seeds they had planted took root and sprouted at this moment, their tangled thorny vines erecting a tough natural barrier for the artillery positions.
With the cover from the Cenarion Circle, the artillery positions were temporarily safe, able to freely pour firepower onto the Anubisath. After multiple volleys, the Nerubian, who had lost several Anubisath, finally lost their patience and dispatched a large force to break through a corner of the front line, heading directly for the artillery positions.
The soldiers on the positions, however, seemed oblivious to the approaching Nerubian, continuing to dutifully fire at the constructs. When a bloodthirsty desire appeared in the compound eyes of the Nerubian, the normally noisy battlefield suddenly fell silent for a moment. The insects discovered, in panic, that the surrounding Arcane energy had unnaturally solidified.
Moments later, a towering fire tornado enveloped this attacking force of Nerubian. Several hooded mages appeared on the high ground of the artillery positions. Waving their staves, it was they who had jointly cast the terrifying Legion magic, lying in wait to incinerate all the Nerubian along this path.
The strong winds picked up, and the hurricanes summoned by the Druids further fueled the flames. Gusts of wind made everyone far from both ends of the inferno feel waves of intense heat. The strong wind blew off the hood of one of the mages, revealing fair skin and long, pointed ears.
Compared to the calm faces of the High Elf mages, the Druids of the Cenarion Circle all had complex expressions. After thousands of years, they were once again working together on the battlefield with allies who wielded Arcane power.
After this, the Nerubian attempted to break through the defenses and attack the rear positions multiple times, but ultimately failed. Moreover, after losing a large number of Anubisath constructs, the airships in the sky were finally free from threat. While clearing out flying insects in the air, they also suppressed the Nerubian ground forces with firepower.
After some hesitation, the Nerubian commander could only admit defeat at the gates of Ahn'Qiraj. If they couldn't threaten the Alliance's rear positions, sending more troops would be futile. Thus, after the Nerubian army and several damaged constructs all retreated behind the Beetle Wall, a thunderous cheer erupted from the combined forces' positions.
They had achieved victory!
While dispatching troops to clear the battlefield, the leaders of the Alliance and Horde gathered at the newest outpost.
Two individuals came from the Alliance: Bolvar and Jaina. The Horde also sent two: Varok and Garrosh. Including Malfurion, who temporarily represented the Cenarion Circle, a total of five people began discussing their next moves in this hastily erected, simple camp.
"Arch Druid."
Everyone nodded slightly towards Malfurion. Even Garrosh, who disliked the Alliance, remained quiet due to Varok's prior admonition. The few of them unanimously wanted Malfurion to speak first and hear his opinion.
However, Malfurion's face was filled with worry, showing no sign of joy after the victory. After much deliberation, he spoke, "We must continue deeper into Ahn'Qiraj. This is a very dangerous undertaking."
Hearing this, Garrosh still couldn't hold back. He questioned, "Why? We've already inflicted heavy losses on those insects. Just seal that gate with your magic, and it won't be a problem for another few thousand years."
"Quiet, child, listen to the Arch Druid."
Varok pulled Garrosh back at this moment, signaling him to remain silent. This action caused Bolvar, who had originally intended to verbally stop Garrosh, to also temporarily hold his tongue.
"A terrifying darkness hides beneath Ahn'Qiraj. A thousand years ago, we were able to erect the Beetle Wall only because this darkness was still dormant. But today is different from the past; that dark power has awakened, and any of our spells before It are as ridiculous and powerless as a street performer's tricks."
Malfurion's voice carried an inherent authority, but he did not take Garrosh's defiance personally. Now, truly severing the Nerubian threat was the most important thing, and the unpleasantness between the Alliance and Horde could largely be set aside for such matters.
"That means we must advance into the city's interior," Bolvar said. "This is very dangerous. Our victory against the Nerubian on the plains doesn't mean we can win in their stronghold."
Varok nodded; he also thought so. This victory was inseparable from the Anubisath being heavy-fire targets on the open plains, and the danger of Nerubian on the plains could not be compared to Nerubian in complex terrain.
"I originally planned to select some elite champions from the Cenarion Circle, the Alliance, and the Horde to infiltrate the Nerubian stronghold and dismantle their army from within, but…"
Malfurion stopped mid-sentence with a helpless expression, but the others understood his meaning.
Jaina stated confidently, "Deep into the hive means being isolated and unsupported, and also fighting an endless stream of Nerubian. This is indeed no different from a suicide mission."
"Even dispatching a large army wouldn't be able to deploy effectively in complex terrain. Sending an elite unit is indeed a more reasonable approach…"
The battle-hardened Varok also had no better solution than this. Garrosh, behind him, also fell into contemplation at this moment. Was there really no other way?
After a long moment, the silent group looked up and met each other's gaze for a few seconds. Just as they were about to compromise on this plan, a noisy shout came from outside the tent.
"Stop, or we'll—!"
The guards' shouts abruptly ceased as they were all sent flying back into the tent, lying on the ground, unable to get up for a long time. In front of them, a tall knight in dark, menacing armor stood silhouetted against the setting sun at the entrance of the tent.
Bolvar's hand rested on his sword hilt. Garrosh and Varok also gripped their weapons tightly. Even Jaina secretly prepared her magic. The previously calm camp instantly became tense.
However, the worst did not happen. The newcomer merely stood at the doorway and slowly removed his helmet. When that face was revealed before them, everyone except Malfurion and Garrosh froze.
Especially Bolvar. His slightly trembling hand slowly left the sword hilt and instead rose to his brow, rubbing his eyes to confirm he hadn't mistaken. After a long moment, he almost gasped as he cried out—
"Lo… Lothar?!"