After N'Zoth shifted his primary target away from Uldir, the dark forces left behind became expendable, their sole purpose being to buy enough time for their master.
Because N'Zoth was unsure if the Scourge would risk entering the Emerald Dream, he didn't want to make such a high-risk gamble, so he decisively had some of his servants delay the Scourge and its master in Nazmir.
From the results, N'Zoth's plan was successful. To prevent these horrors from escaping Nazmir and causing chaos across Azeroth, Arthas had to ensure that no abyssal creature could escape. The Scourge alone couldn't accomplish this task; he had to remain here to block off the escape routes of these dark creatures.
But Arthas was not in a hurry. He had long known that N'Zoth would not confront him head-on. N'Zoth's cunning was beyond doubt; given a choice, he would always choose the safer option.
Unfortunately, N'Zoth underestimated the power Arthas could coordinate. Besides the Scourge, the new Alliance also possessed enough strength to resist the army of the Dark Empire, not to mention that this war was not only joined by the heroes of the Alliance.
Two renegade Elemental Lords were enough to surprise N'Zoth. Even if N'Zoth personally intervened, it would be difficult to defeat the combined forces of Al'Akir and Ragnaros in a short time. Moreover, in the Emerald Dream, four Guardian Dragons had already gathered. With the power of the Titan's blessing, and the support of warriors from various races across Azeroth, this war was destined not to end as easily as N'Zoth imagined.
"Hurry up, Kel'Thuzad. Although N'Zoth won't succeed so easily, the longer he struggles in the Emerald Dream, the more likely he is to cause unexpected damage to Azeroth."
Regarding the Old Gods and the Void forces behind them, Arthas did not let down his guard. To avoid N'Zoth potentially acting recklessly, he decided to deal with these dark creatures rampaging in Nazmir as quickly as possible.
Even if this meant the Scourge might have to pay a greater price.
"As you wish, my master."
Kel'Thuzad immediately had all soldiers and naxxanar adopt more aggressive combat methods. Although they could have used a more stable approach to reduce losses, he also understood that against an opponent like N'Zoth, delay meant more variables.
He didn't want the entire world to become a cradle for Void creatures. The world of Azeroth still held many secrets worth exploring for him, and this Lich's pursuit of magical mysteries and power could not tolerate N'Zoth's defilement of this world.
As the Scourge further intensified its efforts, the army of the Dark Empire finally showed signs of collapse. Even if these dark creatures had no concept of morale, the disparity in raw strength could not be compensated for by N'Zoth's slight blessing.
Large numbers of fanatics cried out the names of their gods, then were engulfed by the ocean of undead. In a short while, their flesh and souls would be utilized by the waiting Necromancers, becoming part of the Scourge's fighting strength.
When the second, third, and even more obelisks began to collapse, the Dark Empire army, which had been in a stalemate with the Scourge, finally reached its limit. N'Zoth also discovered the defeat on this battlefield and began to gradually retract the borders of Nyalotha, moving his realm away from the real plane and recalling the Dark Empire obelisks that were still floating in the sky and had not yet fallen.
Until the last K'thir had its skull crushed under Ogrim's warhammer, and when the giant beast's body crashed to the ground, splashing a large amount of mud and sewage, the tide of the Dark Empire slowly receded from the real world, leaving only the Scourge cleaning up the mess.
Although the battle here ended in victory, half of Nazmir's ecosystem was almost paralyzed by this war. The magic and tactics used by both the Scourge and N'Zoth's servants during combat were unacceptable to living beings. If the intensity of the war had not been kept within a certain range, it wouldn't have been just half of Nazmir that suffered.
As for the Blood Trolls who were first ravaged by the Scourge and then caught between the Dark Empire army and the Scourge, most of them suffered a backlash and perished with their god when G'huun was devoured and killed by N'Zoth. The remaining few were also basically wiped out by the Scourge and dark creatures, with only a very small number of lucky ones who were initially on the periphery of the battlefield.
They were weak tribes that even the Blood Trolls themselves looked down upon, but this weakness ironically became their life-saving charm, keeping them from the most intense center of the battlefield, allowing them to survive on the outskirts. However, these barbaric troll offshoots will likely not have an easy time in the days to come. They will pay the price for their past cruel actions, and the races that were once oppressed by the Blood Trolls will likely seek revenge against these ignorant savages.
Seeing the oppressive shadows in the sky recede, Lothar breathed a sigh of relief. Although his current undead body no longer grew weary from prolonged combat, in the moment the battle ended, he still felt a sense of relief from his soul.
However, this relief was only fleeting, as he knew that the battle with N'Zoth was far from over.
"A splendid victory, Sir."
Arthas silently landed behind Lothar.
"It's not over yet, Arthas."
Lothar's pale face showed a hint of helplessness, "We probably can't help much more now."
This chapter is not over, please click the next page to continue reading!
"It's irrelevant. The Scourge has completed its part in this war. The rest belongs to—"
Arthas's words were cut short by a burst of thunder.
He raised his eyebrows, looking towards the south of the swamp, where an ancient power was gathering. A certain entity was gradually reawakening; she would bring thunder and rain to war-torn Zandalar, to soothe the wounds of this land.
However, not all entities were pleased with this outcome.
"Boss, this isn't what we agreed on?!" Bwonsamdi suddenly appeared from the side. This terrifying-looking, strangely-auraed death god instinctively made Lothar raise his blade in defense.
"I haven't interfered with Zandalar or your affairs," Arthas glanced at Bwonsamdi, "and there were some Blood Troll souls missing from the swamp just now, weren't they all taken by you?"
Bwonsamdi's small actions couldn't escape Arthas's eyes. This death god chuckled awkwardly. He certainly wouldn't dare touch the souls of the Scourge, and the souls of those dark creatures were too hot to handle right now, so he could only set his sights on the neglected Blood Trolls.
After all, their god was dead, and Bwonsamdi certainly wasn't afraid of the deceased G'huun.
Besides, he still wanted to gain some benefit for himself, "Boss, you've made Sethraliss like that, won't Zandalar treat her as their new chief god? And those Vulpera and the remaining Sethrak, Sethraliss has gained too much! This isn't fair!"
"This is fair."
Arthas looked at Bwonsamdi calmly, yet it made Bwonsamdi feel uneasy, as if everything was seen through. "Without new life, there is no death. You have already made a pact with Rastakhan, and the royal family of Zandalar will serve you in life and death. As for the rest, go talk to Sethraliss yourself."
Bwonsamdi was speechless for a moment: making him go to Sethraliss… snakes, after all, hold grudges. He hadn't forgotten how he had previously tricked Sethraliss. If he went to her now, Sethraliss not giving him a few bolts of lightning would mean she was in a good mood.
Arthas dismissed Bwonsamdi and looked up at the faint green hue in the sky—the Dream was calling him, but Arthas showed no intention of moving.
The essence of the Dream seemed somewhat puzzled, but Arthas responded to the will in the sky with a smile, while his body, as if erased by an eraser, faded from the real plane.
Chaos, noise, and songs that could make mortals lose their will and go mad were constantly sung.
This was Nyalotha, the kingdom of the Corruptor N'Zoth, the divine realm of the Old Gods.
Arthas had already witnessed that decaying divine realm in another timeline that resembled the future, but this was his first time entering Nyalotha, where N'Zoth still existed.
N'Zoth had hidden this world in a rift; without a "doorway" or guidance from the Dark Empire, mortals would never see the possibility of entering this world in their lifetime—for the followers of the Old Gods, this was a true divine kingdom, where they could always listen to the oracles of their beloved god.
Although most of those who could hear such oracles had already fallen into madness.
Arthas somewhat disgustedly picked at his ears; N'Zoth's whispers were like cacophonous noise, echoing incessantly throughout this realm. Arthas cut off the words coming from the ocean of his mind, and only then did his ears feel a bit quieter. What he heard was no longer the annoying whispers, but a series of roars like the earth rumbling.
That was the sound produced by N'Zoth's body moving—Nyalotha was a holy city built on N'Zoth's body, and also the throne of power for N'Zoth, this god. His true core was located on the high mountain to which Nyalotha was attached, that mountain being the colossal body of the Old Gods.
However, Nyalotha seemed to be in a state of silence at the moment. Arthas knew this was because N'Zoth had sent out all his servants, intending to corrupt the dream of Azeroth, thereby covering all of Azeroth with his own kingdom, recreating the scene of the Dark Empire from a hundred thousand years ago.
This was also the opportunity Arthas had been waiting for. N'Zoth was like a rat hiding in a dark crevice; his nest was somewhere unknown in the spatial rift, and might even be constantly moving. This was completely different from the stationary Nyalotha in the reality where N'Zoth had already died.
Even Arthas couldn't precisely pinpoint N'Zoth's location, but when N'Zoth actively connected to the Emerald Dream, it meant he had anchored Nyalotha's position, and Arthas could naturally enter Nyalotha with ease.
Furthermore, N'Zoth had already invested all his power into the Emerald Dream, hoping to quickly seize ownership of Azeroth, so there was nothing left in Nyalotha that could stop Arthas.
The young king lightly tossed his hand, and the dark empire blade appeared in his grasp.
Upon sensing her familiar aura, the entity within this demonic blade gradually awoke. "Nyalotha… what a nostalgic place—it seems you've seen through N'Zoth's little trick and are preparing to use me to deal with him?"
There were many ways to break through N'Zoth's shell, but using Xal'atath was definitely the most convenient method.
However, Arthas did not answer Xal'atath's question. Instead, he frowned, not because of Xal'atath's teasing tone, but because he sensed a feeling of being spied upon.
Is it N'Zoth?
No, not that guy. He's currently fully focused on the battle in the Emerald Dream.
Who could it be?
Arthas was silent for a moment, then he made an attempt. He put Xal'atath away, and then took Xal'atath out again after a short while. He repeated this several times until Xal'atath became a bit impatient.
"What are you doing?! I'm not some toy. Now, quickly take me and cut open N'Zoth's turtle shell, then use your world-shattering power to deal with N'Zoth and fulfill our agreement!"
However, what answered her was Arthas's question.
"You're being watched."
"What?"
Xal'atath was still trapped in the sword, after all, and didn't have Arthas's keen intuition, so she couldn't understand what Arthas meant.
Seeing this, Arthas didn't explain to Xal'atath and put the sword away again. This time, just as he had tested earlier, the feeling of being spied upon disappeared—it wasn't that someone was spying on him, but that someone was spying on Xal'atath.
Or rather, someone had left a mark on Xal'atath, and when this sword appeared in Nyalotha, that person would notice.
However, who could have hidden from the eyes of so many Old Gods, and even Xal'atath herself didn't know that the sword had been tampered with?
Arthas didn't intend to ponder this question, because his recent probing had already given him a clue to the other party. Regardless, leaving this matter unaddressed would be a hidden danger. Before dealing with N'Zoth, he had to first eliminate any potential problems with the dark empire blade.
There was just one thing he didn't quite understand: why didn't that feeling of being watched appear when Xal'atath was used outside?
While his brain was still thinking, Arthas's body had already moved. He traced the marks left by the other party, beginning to search for possible clues in the infinite space.
The Twisting Nether was almost stretched into a flat plane in Arthas's vision. He rapidly scanned this chaotic realm and found what he wanted in a small, inconspicuous mass of void.
Arthas threw a chain imbued with Commanding Power, firmly locking that unknown world fragment and peeling it from the void. Before any entity on it had a chance to escape, he struck this world fragment like a meteor.
And he quickly saw a bandaged face with no expression, yet still revealing surprise.
My liege, there's more to this chapter, please click next page to continue reading, it's even more exciting!
"Netherwalker?!"
"Arthas?!"
Both parties seemed surprised by each other's appearance, but compared to Arthas, the Netherwalker was even more shocked—this was the mentor Alleria had once mentioned, who had taught Alleria how to use Void power.
"Are you spying on me?"
Arthas frowned, a hint of threat already in his voice. The Ethereal race was extremely mysterious, especially this Netherwalker; all his actions seemed like a riddle, and this often meant that the other party wanted to conceal some ill intentions.
"Spying?"
The Netherwalker was also a bit surprised. He knew Arthas, it was true, but that was because he had specifically gathered intelligence after learning of Alleria's return to Azeroth. However, as an entity who could move freely in various dangerous domains, he had already realized how dangerous Arthas was, so he hadn't sought out his student after Alleria returned to her homeland.
Arthas felt that the Netherwalker's soul fluctuations did not seem feigned, and his tone softened slightly. If the other party wasn't specifically spying on him, then it would further confirm his discovery just now…
"The mark on Xal'atath, did you leave it?"
"Hmm?!"
The bandaged energy body of the Netherwalker, upon hearing Xal'atath's name, actually experienced a brief fluctuation. Arthas keenly caught this. "It seems you do have some secret… but I don't have time to chat with you now. Tell me truthfully, or—"
Before the Netherwalker could even explain, a huge sense of crisis surged over him. He didn't even have time to slip away before he was pinned to the spot by countless chains, unable to move.
He stared in horror at the chains binding him. He, of course, recognized the source of this power, but the immense discrepancy that didn't match his understanding still made his brain crash for a moment. "Commanding Power?! You?! This?!"
Even though Netherwalker had traveled throughout the universe and was well-versed in many things, he had absolutely not expected such an event to occur, nor could he imagine that Commanding Power would appear on a human.
Is this guy really human?
After being captured by Arthas, the first thought that popped into Netherwalker's mind made him feel a bit ridiculous—now was not the time to be thinking about such things; if he didn't figure out how to escape soon…
"Fleeing is not a wise choice."
Arthas tugged on the chains wrapped around Netherwalker, dragging the Ethereal in front of him.
Netherwalker's heart sank as Arthas saw through his thoughts; he became even more certain that the Commanding Power was not fake, and that the other party indeed possessed this extraordinary authority, meaning that he, already trapped by the Commanding Power, had almost no possibility of escape.
This is terrible… He was only observing the outside world from this remote world fragment; how did he inexplicably provoke an existence like Arthas?
Netherwalker's mind raced; his mission had not yet been accomplished, and being controlled or dying was absolutely not the outcome he wanted to see… And now, escaping had almost become impossible, so his only choice was—
"You came for the Precursor?"
Netherwalker's mind was still sharp enough; Arthas's previous question to Xal'atath had already revealed his intention, and coupled with the fact that he wasn't directly controlling his mind but merely restricting his movements, it indicated that as long as he cooperated sufficiently, he would at least not be in life-threatening danger.
"It seems you are quite a smart person," Arthas stood before Netherwalker with his hands behind his back, "I hope your answer will satisfy me."
He didn't have much fondness for the Ethereals themselves, and coupled with the fact that Netherwalker had almost implicitly admitted that he was observing everything on Azeroth, this naturally raised Arthas's vigilance—whatever the Ethereals wanted to do was based on what benefited their own interests; simply put, they were a group of pure opportunists, and they also had some unclear connections with the Void forces.
Netherwalker, of course, also knew that his race's reputation in the universe was not good; although they themselves were victims of the Void threat, they had nothing to do with the word 'innocent.'
"The Precursor is Dimensius's apostle, but also a traitor who betrayed Dimensius." Netherwalker honestly revealed information about Xal'atath, gradually unveiling the veil over this mysterious existence.
"She once represented the will of the Devourer of Worlds and descended upon our homeworld, Kalesh, but a series of complex events followed, leading her to ultimately decide to betray Dimensius and break free from the shackles imposed on her by that Void Lord."
Netherwalker let out a desolate laugh, his facial bandages trembling, "What happened afterward is known throughout the realms: we did stop Dimensius, but the cost was that Kalesh was buried with him."
"So, Xal'atath is actually no longer a subordinate of Dimensius?"
Arthas grasped the crux of the matter, and Netherwalker gave an affirmative reply, "Xal'atath's betrayal is a fact; Dimensius will be very happy to crush her upon his resurgence. Xal'atath fears such a future, so she has always wanted to obtain enough power to resist Dimensius."
Hearing this, Arthas already basically understood why Xal'atath would appear on Azeroth; she clearly saw hope for resisting the Devourer of Worlds in Azeroth, but at that time, there were other presences residing on Azeroth—the Old Gods, who did not want their victory fruits stolen by Xal'atath. So, after her true intentions were discovered, Xal'atath, whose rebellion failed, was sealed within the dark empire blade.
"Then how did you leave a mark on the dark empire blade?"
After Xal'atath was imprisoned by the Old Gods, this weapon would likely be strictly guarded, as Xal'atath behind her represented the Void, and the Old Gods dared not openly defy those Void Lords.
Netherwalker also had no intention of concealing anything, "After the Dark Empire was destroyed, that weapon changed hands several times. Some of the individuals who held the dark empire blade were not particularly powerful, which gave me the opportunity to leave a mark—unfortunately, at the time, I judged that Xal'atath no longer possessed the capital for cooperation, and coupled with the fact that those Old Gods were indeed quite bizarre and powerful existences, I didn't want to provoke them either."
He just hadn't expected Xal'atath to eventually fall into Arthas's hands, and that Arthas would even use that almost useless mark to track him down and capture him.
However, this wasn't the first time Netherwalker had been captured; in order to restore Kalesh, he had traveled across the universe for tens of thousands of years, encountering countless dangers, and even his current body, imbued with Void energy, was a result of his ventures into perilous situations.
Being captured by Arthas was insignificant compared to those dangers, after all, Arthas didn't intend to kill him from the start.
Seeing Netherwalker cooperate so well, Arthas also confirmed through the feedback of Commanding Power that everything this guy said was true. He had no intention of actually killing Netherwalker, so he simply removed the chains' restraint—this Ethereal was, after all, someone who had a mentor-apprentice relationship with Alleria, though Alleria probably wasn't too clear about the unsavory deeds her mentor had committed.
"Thank you for your mercy," Netherwalker also breathed a sigh of relief after regaining his freedom; although he could tell Arthas wasn't after his life, the feeling of one's life being entirely at another's whim was truly unpleasant, "However, I still want to say, you'd best not fully trust Xal'atath's words. Although she also doesn't want to see the day Dimensius resurfaces, once the threat of Dimensius is gone, she will absolutely become a new threat."
Arthas glanced at Netherwalker, "You don't need to tell me, I've already seen the consequences of working with Xal'atath."
Netherwalker was speechless; indeed, the emergence of the Ethereal race was the best warning. The dust of Kalesh still floated among the stars, warning the many intelligent beings of the real universe just how dangerous the Void truly was.
Arthas pointed a finger at Netherwalker, and a broken chain wrapped around the Ethereal's right hand. Netherwalker showed no intention of resisting, for he knew this was the price of his life being spared.
"I don't trust you, Ethereal, you should be very clear about that. If you don't want Azeroth to become dust scattered in the universe like Kalesh, I think it's best to stay away from you guys." Arthas made no secret of his attitude towards the Ethereals, "However, in a sense, we do have the same position."
"I'm going to deal with that troublesome Ancient God first. Once you've thought it through, we can discuss how to handle the greatest threat facing this universe."
Arthas's figure vanished almost instantly, leaving only his voice echoing in the void. Netherwalker shook his head helplessly; he had already heard the clanking sound of armor friction behind him.
Two Torghast jailers walked behind him, their cold eyes fixed on the prisoner their master had ordered them to guard.
The appearance of the Netherwalker sounded an alarm for Arthas; he realized that Azeroth remained a highly prominent existence in the universe, with countless ambitious individuals coveting the planet's power and potential.
Compared to the overt Burning Legion, the countless hidden threats might persist alongside their homeland indefinitely.
If he didn't want Azeroth to follow in Kalesh's footsteps, Arthas felt it was necessary to eliminate those threats beforehand.
For example, the Ancient God before him, a pest left on this planet by the Void.
N'Zoth still hadn't noticed Arthas's presence because, having previously entered the already deceased Nyalotha, Arthas had long since learned how to conceal his aura in that world.
However, what he was about to do would certainly draw N'Zoth's attention back here.
He took out Xal'atath, and as soon as the blade regained its freedom, Xal'atath questioned, "What exactly were you doing just now?"
Facing Xal'atath's suspicion, Arthas did not explain much, merely stating calmly, "I was just testing whether you wanted to collude with N'Zoth."
"With a collaborator like you, why would I bother to ungratefully get close to a fool like N'Zoth?"
Xal'atath feigned annoyance, "You should know that he, along with the other Old Gods, sealed me away back then.
I have no reason to try to curry favor with him again."
Arthas gripped Xal'atath's hilt and asked the Void Precursor a soul-stirring question, "Then why did he seal you away?"
This question silenced the usually eloquent Xal'atath.
After a long pause, she slowly said, "Trust me, My Majesty, it's better you don't know the answer to that question—it's for the best for both of us."
Arthas, of course, had no intention of learning the truth of the matter from Xal'atath; or rather, even if Xal'atath was willing to tell him, he would only consider it bait in a meticulously planned trap.
And Xal'atath was, after all, still Xal'atath.
As a Void Precursor, who had delivered doomsdays to countless planets, she quickly adjusted her mindset.
"First, let us focus and complete our transaction.
If after that, you still wish to understand me so much… hehe, I would be delighted to fulfill your wish, My Majesty."
"I hope so."
Arthas infused his power into the dark empire blade in his hand.
"I will provide you with energy; you should be able to find where N'Zoth's core is within these disgusting mountains of flesh, right?"
"Of course, My Majesty."
Xal'atath felt Arthas's abundant power surge into the blade, and the pure nourishment of the power made her want to let out a moan of pleasure.
At the same time, she couldn't help but feel a hint of shock—over all these years, Arthas was absolutely the most powerful among those who had wielded her, but she had never expected that after Pandaria, Arthas's power seemed to have reached a realm that even she couldn't comprehend.
No wonder he was so confident about destroying N'Zoth… If he weren't worried about irreversible damage to Azeroth, he might have been able to single-handedly defeat that tenacious pest…
Such a discovery made some unusual thoughts pop into Xal'atath's mind: Perhaps she could—
"Clap!"
A crisp sound came through the mental link, like a loud slap, making Arthas frown and look at Xal'atath.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing, I was just confirming N'Zoth's location."
While covering up her actions, Xal'atath also lied with a straight face—she had just slapped her own consciousness to dispel her thoughts, as punishment for not learning her lesson.
Lest she try to deceive beings far more powerful than herself.
She had already suffered once, and the price was that she had to hide like a stray dog in the universe, only to end up in such a state.
She and Arthas had already signed a contract; once N'Zoth died, she would regain her freedom, and then she could secretly steal N'Zoth's power.
Arthas didn't need to control Void energy, so he probably wouldn't notice her small actions.
As thoughts swirled, she also located N'Zoth's core within the vast body of the Ancient God.
Although the bodies of the Old Gods were as immense as an entire continent, they still had crucial organs similar to brains and hearts.
As long as their power core was destroyed, their entire bodies would gradually die.
Arthas had eliminated C'Thun and Yogg-Saron in this manner before.
As for Y'Shaarj, that unlucky fellow had actually fallen when the Titans arrived; the Titans left the heart of y'shaarj merely for experimentation, to find a way to completely eradicate the Old Gods without harming Azeroth.
"It's in that direction."
The moment Xal'atath indicated the location to Arthas, Arthas's portal had already opened to the designated spot.
However, due to being too close to N'Zoth's body, the moment he landed, the grotesque tentacles on the flesh immediately launched an attack on him.
That was the unconscious counterattack of the Ancient God's body—even devout worshipers dared not approach their god casually, or they would be swatted to death.
Arthas drew Frostmourne, and with a few casual slashes, he cut off the flailing tentacles.
In the gaps between attacks, he also used magic to propel Xal'atath forward, sending the sharp blade through the air like an arrow, disappearing into N'Zoth's husk in the blink of an eye.
This chapter is not over, please click next page to continue reading!
Xal'atath cooperated splendidly, controlling the power of the dark empire blade, ruthlessly cutting open N'Zoth's shell.
The hard flesh of the Ancient God seemed like butter being cut by a hot knife under her blade, offering no resistance whatsoever, and Xal'atath had already penetrated deep into N'Zoth's internal organs.
A piercing pain finally brought N'Zoth back to his senses at this moment.
He turned his attention to his already damaged body, both shocked and enraged; the Corruptor's fury made all of Nyalotha tremble.
"Ah ah ah! Xal'atath, how dare you?!"
N'Zoth was shocked that this damned traitor would commit such an act of betrayal again, and enraged that she would commit such a sacrilegious act in his divine realm while he was distracted.
At that instant, he decided that once he completely dominated Azeroth, he would make Xal'atath regret her actions; he would make this pathetic soul spend the rest of her life in endless torment!
But his rage lasted only a moment, because after Xal'atath damaged his body and Xal'atath's triumphant cackle echoed in his mind, he suddenly felt his mind calm down, which finally made him recall what he had overlooked earlier.
That's right… Who was controlling Xal'atath?
Although this sword made the Old Gods wary, since it was a weapon, it must have a controller.
As N'Zoth focused all his attention on searching for the intruder, he saw a scene that made his soul flee: Arthas had already grasped Xal'atath, who had flown back into his hand, and stood at the opening where the deity's body had been breached.
At this moment, N'Zoth finally barely remembered the thing he had forgotten earlier—why had he forgotten Xal'atath's existence?!
That damned slut had somehow deceived him, making him completely ignore the threat of the dark empire?!
"No, stop him!"
N'Zoth let out what might have been the most desperate cry of his life, but unfortunately his servants were attacking the Emerald Dream for him, and the Dark Empire army, entangled by the Azeroth Allied Forces, couldn't reinforce in time. All he could rely on was his own power.
If any other being had offended him, N'Zoth would have undoubtedly brought down "God's punishment," instantly turning them to ash.
But the one holding Xal'atath now was Arthas, and he couldn't imagine how these two had come together, or how Xal'atath, a void worshipper, could serve under Arthas's banner.
Despite his terror, N'Zoth certainly wouldn't surrender. The Dark Empire's army had already suppressed the Guardians of the Emerald Dream, as they had to ensure the dream's safety while fighting N'Zoth's servants. This was inherently a self-defeating battle for the Azeroth Allied Forces.
Without Arthas, they would have paid a much greater price just to stand a chance against N'Zoth and his army.
But now, the one truly desperate was N'Zoth. He couldn't allow such a powerful being as Arthas to enter his core. To prevent that terrifying future, N'Zoth's outer shell, which had been destroyed by Xal'atath, began to peel away, and under his power and will, it merged into a powerful terror demon.
This colossal beast, resembling a K'thir, exuded an oppressive aura more suffocating than even the strongest Faceless One general. The appendages on its carapace were replaced by twisted void tentacles. He roared at Arthas; as the embodiment of N'Zoth's Wrath and despair, he would stop at nothing to prevent Arthas's intrusion.
And as N'Zoth's enraged avatar charged towards Arthas, N'Zoth began to frantically repair his outer shell, damaged by Xal'atath, attempting to create a new, impenetrable shell that the demonic blade couldn't harm.
"You won't succeed! In just a little while, the Emerald Dream will fall into my hands, and then everything you've done will be in vain!"
N'Zoth roared at Arthas. Xal'atath snorted and said to Arthas, "Do you need me to deal with this avatar for you?"
Arthas glanced at N'Zoth's Wrath rushing towards him and shook his head, "I'm not used to using a sword like you."
With that, he casually tossed Xal'atath aside. Xal'atath sighed with a hint of complaint, "Oh, how disheartening. I just did you a huge favor~"
But despite her words, Xal'atath obediently floated beside Arthas—in N'Zoth's domain, she dared not stray too far from Arthas. Although she now had the ability to harm N'Zoth, she was still confined within this short sword. To unleash her full power, it still depended on the wielder's ability.
If N'Zoth were to snatch her away amidst the chaos, Xal'atath couldn't guarantee what desperate actions N'Zoth, this mad dog on the verge of despair, might take, especially since she still had an important leverage point in N'Zoth's hands.
"Then I'll leave it to you, Your Majesty."
Xal'atath swayed her blade, releasing ripples of void energy that annihilated the active pus flowing from N'Zoth's wounds, meticulously absorbing the energy within without waste.
"I will crush you!"
N'Zoth's Wrath's massive pincers crashed down, creating a huge indentation where Arthas had stood, and simultaneously unleashing extremely lethal void energy. These surging void fluctuations could instantly annihilate matter; even the highest-grade magical armor couldn't withstand their deadly destructive power.
When the smoke and void energy dispersed, N'Zoth's Wrath found that his heavy blow had missed. Arthas hadn't even dodged far; he was pressed close to N'Zoth's Wrath's massive pincer-claws. The void energy was neutralized by intense Light of Dawn dozens of centimeters from his body.
At this moment, he had taken up the artifact more suited to counter the void: Light of Dawn, forged by Titan Guardian Archaedas himself and infused with Naaru essence, had transformed from a holy tome into a greatsword. Even though this greatsword had no sharp edge, the flames burning on it caused N'Zoth's Wrath to feel a stinging pain even before contact.
A sense of crisis welled up in N'Zoth's heart. He immediately controlled his avatar, swinging his massive claw horizontally, intending to swat Arthas away like a ball. But Arthas's movements were even faster, exceeding N'Zoth's ability to track. Even under mental lock, he almost became a blurry mass of Light of Dawn.
The blazing, holy blade of Light of Dawn severed all impurities. The hard carapace of N'Zoth's avatar couldn't even offer resistance. The powerful physique he had painstakingly constructed was like shoddy construction in the face of Light of Dawn. In just one encounter, N'Zoth's Wrath's entire right arm was severed by Arthas.
The searing heat of Light of Dawn even burned through the connected mental pathway, causing N'Zoth, who was controlling the avatar, to experience a burning pain as if it were his own. This lofty God let out what was perhaps his first wail since his birth.
"Ahhh!"
The heart-wrenching pain rendered N'Zoth unable to continue controlling the avatar, causing a brief delay in this God's avatar. Although the avatar itself possessed some autonomy, when facing Arthas, he was no different from a practice dummy for sword training.
A thin golden line appeared vertically on N'Zoth's Wrath's shell, originating from the center of his torso. The giant beast instinctively raised a hand to block, but it only resulted in a similar golden line appearing on his hard, massive claw.
By the time N'Zoth reacted, it was already too late. After Arthas severed the avatar's right arm, the second strike, beyond N'Zoth's perception, split the avatar in two.
Arthas strode past, grabbing Xal'atath, who floated nearby. He didn't even glance at N'Zoth's Wrath, who still stood behind him, and walked directly towards N'Zoth's wound, which he hadn't yet managed to recover.
"No! This is impossible?!"
N'Zoth roared in impotent fury, his body's tentacles wildly flailing, trying to block Arthas's advance. At the same time, he futilely tried to use connections formed by void tentacles to reattach N'Zoth's Wrath's body, which had been severed in two by Light of Dawn. But the cross-sections of the avatar, cut by Light of Dawn, burned with seemingly unquenchable flames, and the void tentacles were instantly annihilated upon contact.
He could only watch helplessly as his avatar fell, one to the left and one to the right, observing the Light of Dawn slowly burning on the avatar's remains.
An emotion called fear suddenly rose in N'Zoth's heart. If before he had been wary of Arthas, now, that wariness had escalated into dread.
"How unsightly, N'Zoth~ Where is Your Majesty? Or are you all just pests disguised as demon gods?"
Xal'atath's taunt perfectly entered N'Zoth's mind, delivering a heavy slap to the last Old Gods.
The blade, condensed from Holy Light, easily pierced the last barrier of N'Zoth's already damaged body. Arthas controlled the Holy Light, carving a hole with a radius of tens of meters into N'Zoth's body. The disgusting organs and pus were all melted and decomposed by the brilliant, sun-like light. The toxins and corruption within N'Zoth, which were fatal to mortals, were even more vulnerable before Arthas.
Xal'atath was also secretly shocked, dumbfounded by the power Arthas displayed—her ability to easily break open N'Zoth's body was a clever trick, utilizing the inherent characteristics of the dark empire blade. If she had relied solely on brute force, it would have been incredibly difficult to penetrate N'Zoth's defenses with such effortless ease as Arthas did.
But the more powerful Arthas's displayed strength, the more delighted Xal'atath became, for she was confident that Arthas could destroy N'Zoth and his domain. In doing so, according to the terms of the contract, she would regain her freedom.
Although with a powerful existence like Arthas presiding, her plans would likely be delayed for a long time, as a Void creature, Xal'atath had almost endless time to slowly advance her plans. Her only concern was those mad Ethereals. After Kalesh was destroyed, a portion of the Ethereals embraced the Void, and sought to achieve their own ascension by resurrecting Dimensius and making him fully manifest in the real plane.
For Xal'atath, who had already experienced something similar once, she felt these Ethereals were truly insane. If Dimensius were truly resurrected by them in the real plane, the Ethereals might indeed gain their so-called ascension, but it would absolutely not be a blessing, but a complete and utter curse.
However, summoning Dimensius was no simple task. The Ethereals had to find an energy source sufficient to complete the ritual, and in the entire universe, there were not many items capable of this, and most were held by entities the Ethereals couldn't afford to provoke. Perhaps after some time, these Void-loyal Ethereals would turn their attention to Azeroth, as they would eventually learn of the planet's potential.
At that time, those Ethereals were destined to confront Arthas, and she only needed to reap the benefits...
Arthas was unaware of Xal'atath's subtle machinations; he was currently focused on dealing with N'Zoth, a tough nut to crack—as an Old Gods, if nothing else, their vitality was as tenacious as that of their minions. Even though Arthas seemed to have caused massive damage to N'Zoth's body, compared to its immense size, this might not even count as breaking the skin.
However, the result Arthas wanted had been achieved. The breach Xal'atath created extended directly to N'Zoth's "heart." When he pierced the last wall of flesh, he finally stepped into the most "sacred" core of all Nyalotha.
—The Land of Endless Truth.
The mad whispers suddenly ceased in this core's fleshy sanctuary, and the endless corruption seemed to have been paused. Outside the circular platform of fleshy tissue, Old Gods' flesh, covered in lumps and pus, surrounded it. From a mortal's perspective, that flesh constantly shifted position, minute by minute; the solid flesh actually turned into a liquid, flowing in this blasphemous place.
Although the whispers vanished in an instant, the true danger was hidden within this seemingly peaceful facade. Every time you glanced at the fleshy tissue, it was as if eyeballs grew from the flowing liquid parts, similarly gazing back at you.
The dark purple flesh resembled a swirling, boundless universe, and those clear yellow eyes were the stars within that universe. When your gaze met N'Zoth's, all your doubts would vanish; every question found its answer in an instant.
Yes, embrace the Old Gods, become his chosen, and become one with this world...
"A decent trick."
Arthas sneered, raising his blade and striking at the central opening. The usually unstoppable Holy Light seemed to encounter an obstacle for the first time in this place; a Void barrier, shimmering with purple light, appeared out of thin air, canceling out Arthas's Holy Light, but its damaged parts rapidly repaired themselves.
From the dark opening, the squelching sound of flesh writhing emerged. A brain-like structure, similar to a cephalopod, squirmed out of that dark maw. Its head split open with a huge gash, revealing a golden glow within. Three chilling golden vertical pupils were arranged below its head, and its entire form exuded a sacred yet sinister beauty.
Unfortunately, not everyone dared to directly gaze upon N'Zoth in this form. A unprotected mortal, even with just one glance, no longer needed the mad ravings or endless corruption, because with just that one look, their sanity would shatter, their will would dissolve, and their very flesh would melt directly into a part of the Old Gods.
"You've crossed the line, King of Death!" N'Zoth's voice was filled with rage, like muffled thunder hidden in dark clouds, "You don't understand how great our mission is. All your actions will only bring destruction to this world, and destruction to you all!"
Arthas scoffed at N'Zoth's words, "Don't portray yourself as some noble being sacrificing everything for the world's survival. You and your brothers are nothing but pests disguised as demon gods."
To Arthas's taunt, N'Zoth surprisingly didn't immediately lose his temper. He still suppressed his anger, allowing his reason to make the correct judgment, "Do you think without us this world would be better? Arthas, your promised land is not Azeroth. Leave here; this is not the way destiny should unfold."
This chapter is not over, please click next page to continue reading!
"Your level of forbearance exceeds my expectations, N'Zoth," Arthas seemed barely able to suppress his laughter, "No wonder you could watch your brothers die. What, did the Titan's cage cause some problems in your mind, so you can no longer distinguish between fantasy and reality? Stop stalling for time. You must have tried just now; your tentacles can no longer penetrate deeper into the Emerald Dream."
If N'Zoth had teeth, he would surely have gnashed them to dust by now—just as Arthas said, he wanted to use words to stall Arthas, an enemy he might not be able to defeat, so he could complete his invasion of the Emerald Dream.
But the Guardian's tenacity there far exceeded his expectations, coupled with the sudden intrusion of two Elemental Lord and their Legion into the battle. N'Zoth already knew that this well-planned invasion had been foreseen by Arthas. All the power he invested had instead dragged him into a quagmire; he was the one who truly fell into the trap.
If it had been when he first arrived on Azeroth, facing an enemy like Arthas, N'Zoth would have abandoned the idea of rooting himself on Azeroth and fled directly into deep space. But now, all his planned future needed to be built upon Azeroth. N'Zoth could not abandon the reality of his beautiful vision crumbling.
"Then come, Arthas, let our battle collapse this world, tear open her wounds, dry every drop of her blood, and let everything face its final judgment!"
N'Zoth accepted reality, no longer trying to achieve his plan by avoiding battle. This divine war was inevitable, and only one of them would leave alive—this was N'Zoth's sanctuary, where his power could be maximized, and Holy Light and Death were not favored here. N'Zoth might not lose.
Mountains of flesh continuously collapsed, the vast body of the Old Gods was blasted into a leaky sieve, and countless pillars of light burst forth, directly plunging into Nyalotha's dark red sky.
The land and mountains of Nyalotha at this moment seemed to gain their own life and thought, twisting continuously as the light penetrated them, causing the entire plane to appear on the verge of collapse.
At this moment, in the Land of Endless Truth, the core of the entire body, N'Zoth, almost heart-dead, tried to obstruct Arthas's destruction of him—this fleshly sanctuary sprouted countless twisting tentacles and eyeballs, and void energy, dense as raindrops, filled every corner of the space, but no matter how hard N'Zoth tried, his attacks simply couldn't get within a meter of Arthas.
A sacred halo repelled all impure things, and even void impacts that could annihilate all matter couldn't break through the Holy Light's defense; instead, N'Zoth's own body was scorched by the burning Holy Light.
Arthas emotionlessly manipulated the power of the Holy Light. N'Zoth found it unimaginable how this fellow in front of him could summon such an ocean of light, overflowing within his own divine kingdom. Arthas was channeling these energies, which were fatal to an Ancient God, through N'Zoth's own internal pathways to every corner of his body.
N'Zoth was completely unable to stop this process. His only reliance now was his massive body and extremely strong vitality, attempting to endure round after round of Holy Light baptism before Arthas's power was exhausted.
"The cycle is complete, the door opens, my vision will certainly come true, even you cannot stop it."
N'Zoth shook his brain, attempting to transmit mental corruption to Arthas to cause him harm, but all his mental whispers vanished as if a mud ox had entered the sea. Arthas didn't even change his expression, as if he wasn't hearing mad whispers, but rather a poem sung by a roadside bard.
N'Zoth tried to go further, twisting his mental power into sharp thorns, wanting to break through Arthas's defenses. However, as his will deepened, a blue ghostly glow surged out from Arthas's soul, annihilating those attacks one by one, and simultaneously releasing a decaying aura that made N'Zoth recoil, causing the Ancient God to instantly sever the connection he had so painstakingly established.
"The authority of death... Damn it, where on earth did this guy get this power?"
Normally, N'Zoth would be incredibly covetous of such an almost reality-defying power, but he was now on the brink of despair. He had no time to investigate the source of Arthas's power; he only wanted to find Arthas's weakness and then kill or seal this troublesome opponent.
However, after numerous attempts, N'Zoth discovered with near despair that his proud methods couldn't inflict even the slightest damage on Arthas. The opponent was like a weapon born to counter him, completely immune to all his abilities.
Void power was dispelled by Holy Light, mental control could not penetrate that cold will of death, and even when he tried to crush Arthas with his massive body, Arthas's body was even sturdier than those Titan Guardians. A tentacle that had taken advantage of the chaos to strike Arthas earlier ended up breaking itself, without causing any harm to Arthas.
Arthas was systematically destroying N'Zoth's defenses. Once N'Zoth's void barrier dissipated, he had no doubt that the nauseating Holy Light would instantly burn through his brain.
Even more annoying was that while he was busy dealing with Arthas, there was still a damned fellow constantly taunting him.
"Oh? N'Zoth, it seems you're not as strong as I imagined. Where are your methods? Why don't you use them against Arthas?"
"Oh, look at your void spells, how crude! No wonder Dimensius looks down on you lot. If you ask me, you're nothing but a bunch of pretentious clowns."
"Hehe... When you die, I will devour your power, and then seal your remaining will in something—oh, sorry, I really don't know if anything will be left of you, after all, Arthas truly wants to completely destroy you~"
Xal'atath's incessant whispers annoyed N'Zoth greatly, but he was now fully focused on slowing Arthas's assault on him and had no mind to deal with the noisy Xal'atath.
"Don't think you'll have an easy time if I die, Xal'atath, you traitor! You've caused so much trouble and brought us a guy like Arthas—do you think he'll let you go? Let go of you, this void monster?!"
So N'Zoth chose to madly curse Xal'atath's past. He even said maniacally, "You want to get your freedom back from me? Hehe, dream on! If I die, you'll stay in that sword forever!"
Xal'atath's mockery faltered. She suddenly realized that the seal on her had been reinforced, which greatly displeased her. "Very well... N'Zoth, you think you can take me down with you? Then let's see whether you die first, or if I'll be forever trapped in this damned sword."
Though she said so, Xal'atath immediately cut off her mental communication with N'Zoth and instead spoke to Arthas, "You'd best find a way to quickly deal with this waste, otherwise our contract won't be fulfilled!"
But Xal'atath's urging did not make Arthas's offensive more ferocious; on the contrary, he maintained his lukewarm demeanor, wanting to thoroughly destroy N'Zoth's existence little by little.
This chapter is not over, please click next page to continue reading!
"What are you doing? If the contract becomes void, neither of us will have a good outcome?!"
Xal'atath's heart sank. She seemed to realize something, but at this moment, she had no other choice. Originally, she might have stood on the same side as N'Zoth, but now she had long since offended this Ancient God beyond redemption. Besides Arthas, where else could she turn?
Thinking this, Xal'atath gritted her teeth and unleashed her long-preserved energy towards N'Zoth—it was what she had stored over many years, along with the essence obtained from devouring Sha in Pandaria.
N'Zoth was already struggling under Arthas's attack, and Xal'atath's interference almost caused his defensive barrier to collapse. He paid a heavy price to save his life from Arthas's Holy Light, but in return, most of his body was almost destroyed by Arthas.
"Y'Shaarj?! You damned traitor absorbed his remnants too?" N'Zoth looked in horror at Xal'atath, who was now holding nothing back. The overwhelming black shadows even surpassed his own domain, as the essence of other Old Gods and Xal'atath's power began to corrode N'Zoth.
Seeing this, Arthas finally smiled. He had waited too long for Xal'atath to make her move—this cunning pioneer would not fully obey his commands and surely had some power hidden. The reason Arthas had kept N'Zoth alive was precisely to force Xal'atath to make a choice.
"What are you waiting for?! I've temporarily suppressed him. If you don't want our contract to become void, quickly crush this pest for me!"
Xal'atath's outburst immediately made N'Zoth change targets. As the weakest Ancient God, N'Zoth could not withstand the harm of other Old Gods' echoes. He had to deal with Xal'atath, the traitor, first!
But the instant he had that thought, a cold light suddenly tore through the seemingly unbreakable barrier that had been under Arthas's attack, and deeply pierced his heart, his brain.
In an instant, N'Zoth's thoughts were almost frozen by the cold, and the endless chill of death was freezing his will.
He tried to see the true nature of the attack, but only saw the exposed hilt of Frostmourne, while the sharp blade had already plunged into his body.
-----
In a corner of the Emerald Dream, where N'Zoth had invaded the dream with Nyalotha, the protectors of Azeroth were engaged in a fierce battle against the forces of the Dark Empire.
Tyrande had to admit that this war far exceeded their expectations; even the arrival of the Burning Legion had not put them under as much pressure as this time. Perhaps only the War of the Ancients ten thousand years ago could be compared to the threat of the Dark Empire.
As Old Gods who had descended upon Azeroth in ancient times and once ruled the entire planet, they possessed not only extraordinary power but also an extremely high understanding and familiarity with this planet. Even the Night Elves, who had lived on Azeroth for over ten thousand years, knew far less about Azeroth than the Old Gods' servants.
Fortunately, they were not fighting alone this time. All beings on Azeroth committed to defending their homeland had united: the Alliance, the Horde, various neutral factions, even the Dragonflights and the Titan Guardian, and two Elemental Lords. They were all taking action to resist N'Zoth's evil deeds.
However, the battle remained very intense because the allied forces needed to maintain the stability of the Emerald Dream, making some powerful weapons and magic unusable. Yet, the soldiers of the Dark Empire could wantonly spread corruption within the Emerald Dream.
If it weren't for the two Guardians, Ysera and Freya, fully supporting the barrier that protected the dream's purity, perhaps half of the dream would have already been consumed by N'Zoth's corruption.
After Magni shattered the skull of a Faceless One in front of him with his family heirloom, fearbreaker, he didn't have time to wipe the splattered blood from his helmet before shouting to Muradin nearby, "Come help me, Muradin!"
At this moment, Muradin narrowly dodged the spears thrust by the Dark Empire soldiers. He used his battle-axe to cleave the spear shaft and then smashed an onrushing mad cultist back into the crowd with a hammer, "What do you want?! I can't leave this spot!"
"I'll do it, Magni."
Tyrande swiftly dealt with the Dark Empire soldiers in front of her and came to Magni's side. The two of them cooperated tacitly, eliminating the monsters attempting to cross the defensive line. Only then did Tyrande slowly lower her longbow, waiting for Magni to speak.
"Phew... Do you see that obelisk over there? It's providing some kind of magical support to these evil monsters. Haven't you noticed these monsters getting harder to kill since just now?"
Magni spat, wiping the dirty blood from his helmet with a large hand, "I'm going to smash that thing, but someone needs to provide me with some cover!"
"I can, but I probably can't cover all directions by myself."
Tyrande scanned the surrounding situation and quickly made a judgment. Her longbow could only help Magni deal with some threats; they needed more help.
However, someone quickly came to help them solve this problem. Sylvanas also arrived, and she merely glanced at the obelisk emitting dark aura. "I'll help you deal with the remaining trouble."
With the assistance of Tyrande and Sylvanas, a fierce rain of arrows quickly cleared a path for Magni to reach the obelisk. The old dwarf showed no fear about venturing into enemy territory, and his legendary warhammer, fearbreaker, glowed brightly in his hand.
"For Azeroth!"
Magni crushed the cultists attempting to block him, charging straight to the obelisk. With a roar, his powerful arm swung the warhammer, even causing the armor wrapped around his arm to visibly swell. "Hmph!"
The powerful blunt force shattered the hard obelisk, and the core of this evil ritual began to gradually collapse. However, Magni's actions inevitably attracted some extremely threatening gazes.
"Damn mortal!"
Magni only heard a roar explode in his ear, causing his mind to spin for half a second. Immediately after, his body was violently struck by something. Magni instinctively activated the power of his bloodline, trying to protect himself with a hard stone body.
But accompanied by a teeth-grinding crunch, Magni's heart sank, knowing that the heavy blow had exceeded his limit. His dizzy brain also cleared due to this heavy impact, but at that moment, his body uncontrollably flew out like a cannonball, directly piercing the Dark Empire's front line and raising a rain of blood among the crowd.
"Magni!"
Sylvanas and Tyrande shouted almost simultaneously. They had been watching Magni's situation, so they were the first to discover he was attacked. And as Magni was sent flying, his fate unknown, they could only suppress the grief and unease in their hearts and begin searching for what had attacked Magni.
Two pairs of eyes, sharper than a hawk's, now flickered with full intensity, capturing every subtle trace of the opponent—until a nearly invisible ripple suddenly surged in the air.
Without hesitation, Tyrande and Sylvanas simultaneously drew their bows and nocked arrows. With the crisp sound of the bowstrings releasing, two sharp arrows struck their target, splattering two streams of blood in the empty air.
And these two arrows were only the beginning. The arrows deeply embedded in the flesh turned some invisible creature into a living target in their eyes. The Ranger-General and the Priestess, filled with fury, quickly unleashed a rain of arrows upon the invisible entity.
In just a few breaths, a Faceless One prophet twitched and revealed its form. Its vital points were riddled with arrows, and even with the powerful vitality of a mollusk-like creature, it could only collapse weakly to the ground.
My lord, there's more to this chapter; please click next page to continue reading, it gets even more exciting!
After dealing with the invisible monster that attacked Magni, they immediately became concerned about Magni's safety. And when they searched for Magni's whereabouts, they discovered that the dwarf king had already broken out of the encirclement.
The commotion here also attracted the attention of Uther and Tirion nearby. After they dealt with their opponents, they immediately went to meet Magni, who had broken through the siege.
But when Tirion clearly saw Magni walk up to him, his expression immediately turned solemn—Magni's chest plate was deeply caved in. Judging by the extent of the armor's indentation, it was likely that his chest and abdomen were completely mangled. Not only his ribs, but probably even the organs in his chest and abdominal cavities had suffered severe damage.
The reason he was able to break out of the enemy's encirclement was entirely due to his activated Stoneform, which temporarily exempted him from the injuries. But once he dispelled Stoneform, such a fatal injury would likely claim his life in a short time.
After Uther and Tirion exchanged glances, they unceremoniously dragged Magni to a safer area in the rear. At this moment, Magni remained silent, merely maintaining his Stoneform.
"How much longer can you maintain this form?" Uther asked, while attempting to heal Magni's injuries with the Holy Light.
"Hard to say... *cough*—" Magni spoke a sentence, but it was followed by an uncontrollable cough of fresh blood. "If I can't hold on, tell Muradin for me to temporarily watch Ironforge and not run around like Brann."
"Don't talk nonsense, my friend, you'll be fine." Tyrande also arrived at this moment and began to pray to the Moon Goddess, using divine power to heal Magni's wounds. "This is the Emerald Dream, where the best healers in this world gather. You will definitely be fine."
Magni forced a smile, but as a stone statue, he indeed found it difficult to control his expression. "You don't all need to watch me; maintaining the defensive line is more important."
Sylvanas walked over, hung her longbow on her back, and helped carry Magni back to the rear. "We don't need that many people for now. After you destroyed that obelisk, those monsters' reactions have slowed down considerably."
After speaking, Sylvanas hesitated for a moment and continued, "And I've noticed that those monsters don't seem as frantic as they were when they first assaulted the dream... and their power has weakened significantly."
"You feel it too?"
Tyrande raised her eyebrows in surprise—she had thought that the overly intense battle had blurred her senses, causing her to have such a misconception.
"Hmm... If it were at the very beginning, our arrows probably wouldn't have killed that Faceless One as easily just now." Sylvanas glanced back at where the monster had fallen. "Perhaps the scales of victory have begun to tip in our favor."
"Perhaps."
Tyrande looked towards the half of the dream that seemed shrouded in darkness, and she couldn't help but pray again in her heart: May the Moon Goddess bless you, Arthas.
Everyone knew that when Arthas was not on the battlefield, he must be fighting in an even more dangerous place.
The moment N'Zoth was impaled by Frostmourne, he could only feel an endless chill engulfing him, and his proud divine realm seemed to be covered in ice and snow in an instant. As far as the eye could see, what was once the Dark Empire, what was once Nyalotha, had all been buried by heavy snow, turning into a desolate wasteland no one cared about.
"I... failed?"
Still unable to accept this reality, N'Zoth struggled to shake his body, but he couldn't get rid of the cold that paralyzed his thoughts and stiffened his body. It was as if his body was encased in solid ice, and every movement was accompanied by the tearing and breaking of flesh and blood.
Although he still wanted to fight to the death, N'Zoth understood at this moment that his life had ended the moment he was struck by Frostmourne. He was merely seeing a pre-death illusion.
As for the master of this illusion, who else could it be? Besides Arthas, the master of the demonic sword, N'Zoth didn't know who else could drag an Ancient God into an illusion composed of death.
When he understood this, he finally saw that blurry outline. Although he couldn't make out the specific appearance, how could N'Zoth not recognize the person who killed him?
"Arthas... you won. You surpassed the countless eons of heritage of the Dark Empire. I find it hard to imagine that a mere mortal could push us to such a desperate state."
N'Zoth's words were no longer filled with madness; instead, they carried a hint of bewilderment. He could accept dying at the hands of the Titans, or under the true power of Azeroth, but he had never imagined that a single person would personally bring an end to the Dark Empire.
"The heritage of the Dark Empire is nothing more than the bloody exploitation of our world," Arthas's shadow flickered in and out of view amidst the wind and snow. The clearer he became, the closer death was.
N'Zoth let out a low chuckle, "Heh... say what you will. It's merely a matter of the victor becoming king and the vanquished becoming villain. But you should also know that our demise is nothing. Your planet is still in peril."
In the dying illusion, N'Zoth had already seen Arthas's face becoming clearer. He had once been extremely wary of this human's existence and had tried more than once to find a way to kill him or drive him out of this world.
But now it was over; his Dark Empire was ultimately just a dream, and his vision could not come true.
"This does not mean we have failed, Arthas. Enjoy this brief victory, for the true terror in the boundless deep space still exists. Your unauthorized manipulation of Xal'atath's power will sooner or later bring destined destruction upon this world."
With N'Zoth's final whisper, the last Ancient God completely dissipated in his own laughter, as if he had already seen the future that delighted him.
Arthas said little, merely taking Frostmourne back into his hand and devouring all of N'Zoth's remnants, completely erasing the Ancient God's consciousness and preventing any possibility of his resurgence.
And in seizing N'Zoth's soul, he unexpectedly found the "key" to freedom that Xal'atath had yearned for.
When N'Zoth's consciousness was annihilated, this space, constructed from his dying mental image and Arthas's power, shattered like a mirror. After the death of Nyalotha's master, this plane also reached its end. Without N'Zoth's support, everything within it would meet its final demise.
The bridge that twisted reality and connected to the Emerald Dream also began to collapse. N'Zoth's desperate gamble was declared a failure. Amidst the wails of countless horrors and cultists, the Ancient God's divine realm gradually crumbled, and the power they had gained from their god rapidly drained away.
The two Elemental Lords keenly sensed the decline of N'Zoth's power. In their ecstasy, they did not forget Arthas's command. Seizing the opportunity, they used the power of the Firelands and Skywall, two elemental planes, like a pair of scissors, to collectively sever N'Zoth's tentacles that had plunged into the Emerald Dream, completely ejecting Nyalotha from the Emerald Dream, along with the monsters that had poured out of Nyalotha, banishing them completely into the abyss of decay.
When N'Zoth's influence completely dissipated, within the sacred dream, all the heroes battling the Dark Empire's army noticed the oppressive feeling that had lingered quickly diminish, and the sky corrupted by Nyalotha began to clear.
A faint but beautiful melody echoed through the dream, the breathing and singing of this world, her encouragement to her children who fought so valiantly.
"The world... is recovering?" Ysera found it somewhat unbelievable that victory had come so suddenly. One moment they were struggling to hold on, the next, the threat of Nyalotha instantly vanished.
"Yes, it seems Arthas did it." Freya also breathed a sigh of relief. This was the first time Azeroth had defeated a complete Ancient God without the assistance of the Titans.
The world's hymn spread to every corner of the dream. Flowers bloomed, withered trees came back to life, and creatures tainted by the nightmare were reborn under the verdant greenery. All the warriors fighting in the dream also suddenly felt their bodies lighten, the fatigue from consecutive bloody battles swept away. Their bodies were purified by pure power, and even some old injuries and hidden wounds that had plagued them for years were cleared.
Magni was originally lying on the ground receiving treatment, but after the dream's song and blessing, he suddenly felt the heaviness in his chest disappear and sat up as if nothing had happened.
"Hoh, I feel like all my injuries are gone," Magni exclaimed, feeling himself all over. Although he still maintained his stone form, the previous feeling of weakness emanating from within his body had completely dissipated.
Dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click next page to continue reading, it gets even more exciting!
"Are you sure, King Magni?" Calia was still a little worried, after all, everyone had seen how severely Magni was injured; his chest and armor were even caved in.
"I know my own body best! If you don't believe me, I'll just release my stone form. Anyway, with so many professional healers around, it'll be hard for this old bone of mine to die anytime soon."
Magni said, disregarding others' dissuasion and preparing to release his bloodline ability. To Calia's gasp, Magni grunted and strained for a long time, only to find everyone staring at him with strange looks.
"Why are you looking at me? See, I've released my stone form! Didn't I tell you I was fine?!"
He was even afraid that everyone wouldn't believe him, so he bounced a few times in place, emitting several dull thuds.
"Uh... King Magni, why don't you look at your hands?" Calia reminded him with a strange expression.
"What, my hands?" Magni was stunned for a moment, then belatedly looked down at his hands.
His hands, which should have returned to a flesh color, were still that grayish-white, hard stone color. This discovery made Magni freeze in place like a stone statue.
"What... what's going on?"
Magni tried again, incredulously, to release the bloodline's influence on his body, attempting to return to his normal dwarf appearance. But after several attempts, he still maintained his stone form. This discovery nearly caused Magni's brain to crash—he clearly felt that he had completely relaxed his control over his bloodline, so the stone form shouldn't have been able to persist, right?!
The moment N'Zoth's aura completely vanished, Xal'atath was stunned for a few seconds, followed by an overwhelming surge of euphoria.
She succeeded! She was about to regain her freedom!
Although Xal'atath had consumed a lot of her reserved energy and even felt an emptiness rising from the depths of her soul in order to eliminate N'Zoth quickly and prevent him from making any desperate moves, these sacrifices were nothing compared to the freedom she was about to gain.
Arthas's figure flashed out from N'Zoth's damaged body. He grabbed Xal'atath, who was floating in the air, and left Nyalotha with Xal'atath before the Infinite Truths self-annihilated.
By the time N'Zoth's dark vision, which he had painstakingly built and managed for countless eons, collapsed, Arthas had already returned to the real world with the weakened Xal'atath. Xal'atath, without time to recover her strength, eagerly asked, "You succeeded!"
Arthas looked back at the collapsing spatial tunnel. The ominous dark purple was eventually covered by the clear blue sky. Everything turned to dust, even the Old Gods were no exception.
He took out a void-glowing orb, and the power surging within it was all too familiar to Xal'atath—it was her "freedom."
"The contract is complete, Xal'atath. What N'Zoth took from you, I have returned to you as promised."
Arthas, with an unperturbed expression, integrated the void orb into Xal'atath's body. The moment the integration finished, he detected the pure void creature aura emanating from the dark empire blade. From this moment on, Xal'atath would no longer be restricted by this demonic blade; she could detach from the dagger and reshape her body at any time.
And she intended to do just that—until several chains tightly bound the dark empire blade, the chains of Commanding Power extending from the void in all directions around Xal'atath's space, curbing her attempt to reshape her body.
This sudden change made Xal'atath's thoughts halt for half a second. Only when the Commanding Power had completely restrained her did she belatedly understand what had happened.
But instead of anger, Xal'atath let out a faint chuckle, "I thought we were allies, His Majesty the King."
"We could indeed be considered allies before you decided to fully side with the Void," Arthas did not deny Xal'atath's statement. Even the Commanding Power did not completely dominate Xal'atath's will, but merely restricted her movements.
Hearing Arthas's words, Xal'atath was silent for a moment. She had realized that Arthas's words clearly indicated he knew some information about her.
So she continued to probe, wanting to know exactly what Arthas knew, "I am merely a pawn under the Old Gods. The Void wouldn't be interested in a weakling like me."
"I don't think a mere pawn would be called a 'Forerunner.'"
Arthas slowly uttered a very ancient word—it wasn't even a language that had ever appeared on Azeroth, but rather a whisper from the stars.
The title of "Forerunner" shook Xal'atath's mind. The moment Arthas spoke that word, she knew that most of her secrets had probably been uncovered by the fellow in front of her, otherwise, he couldn't possibly know this title that existed long before the birth of civilization on Azeroth.
And it was after a moment of shock that Xal'atath suddenly recalled Arthas's abnormal behavior when they entered Nyalotha. She couldn't help but secretly regret—why did she overlook such obvious information? Even on the eve of regaining her freedom, she shouldn't have relaxed her guard.
But she did relax her guard, or rather, from Xal'atath's perspective at the time, reclaiming what was hers from N'Zoth was the most important thing. It was also unlikely for Arthas to obtain more information about her from Azeroth; most of those things were collectively hidden by the Old Gods. After all, those Old Gods had always been doing things that couldn't see the light of day. If things were exposed, not only Xal'atath but also the four great Old Gods would not end well.
That's why Xal'atath dared to decisively instigate a rebellion in the Dark Empire, because she was certain that the Old Gods would not dare to expose these matters.
Facts proved Xal'atath's guess was correct, but she underestimated the power the Old Gods could wield. Her rebellion was jointly suppressed by the four Old Gods, and she, too, became a "trophy" of the Dark Empire.
Afterward, she was forced to be imprisoned in the dark empire blade for tens of thousands of years, until Arthas released her today.
"It's been a long time since I heard anyone call me by that title..." Although her identity was exposed, Xal'atath wasn't flustered; instead, she felt a bit nostalgic.
But what exactly she was nostalgic for, no one would know except Xal'atath herself.
"As an apostle under the Devourer of Worlds, yet trapped in such a small dagger for countless tens of thousands of years, your forbearance is truly commendable."
"Heh, you even know about these things? Then it seems I can't even scare you with the title of Devourer of Worlds," Xal'atath suddenly let out a light chuckle, "Arthas, oh Arthas, if only we were truly allies."
She showed no awareness of being in someone else's grasp; instead, she seemed as composed as if chatting with an old friend.
"If you are truly willing to do what an ally should do, then I am not unwilling to acknowledge you," Arthas gazed at the flickering runes on the dark empire blade. His gaze seemed to pass directly through the blade's obstruction, seeing the existence hidden in a small space, "But I do not wish for Azeroth to follow in the footsteps of those planets devoured by the Void Lord."
"I will not lay a hand on Azeroth, at least not now."
Xal'atath made a promise, and both she and Arthas knew full well that the reason she wouldn't lay a hand on Azeroth was Arthas. If one day Arthas was gone, or could no longer attend to Azeroth, she would not continue to lie dormant.
Arthas could not trust the nature of void creatures. Even though Xal'atath was not a naturally born void creature, her time as a void creature was probably much, much longer than her time as a mortal.
"Are you perhaps a little confused as to why I'm not flustered after you've figured me out?" Xal'atath suddenly said to Arthas at this moment.
"You must have tampered with that contract."
Arthas responded to Xal'atath almost without thinking, and his straightforwardness actually stunned Xal'atath, "You know about the loophole in the contract?"
This time, Arthas simply shook his head, "I'm not sure what exactly you did, but the validity of that contract is not enough to support overly harsh conditions, and given your cautiousness, it's not hard to guess that you added some extra insurance for your life."
Arthas would not easily trust Xal'atath, and Xal'atath naturally would not easily trust Arthas, an existence whose power was beyond her control. Both sides actually had reservations, yet they reached an understanding.
What Arthas wanted was N'Zoth's demise, and the freedom Xal'atath needed also happened to require taking it from N'Zoth, so the two coincided and jointly put N'Zoth in his coffin.
But after N'Zoth's death, Xal'atath's interests would inevitably conflict with Arthas's interests. She needed to ensure she had enough power to survive Dimensius. Her risky attempt to usurp the Dark Empire's legacy was because the power contained within Azeroth might be able to resist Dimensius, while Arthas had to ensure Azeroth's safety.
"Alas... If only I had met a collaborator like you earlier, I wouldn't have ended up in this situation."
Xal'atath sighed helplessly, "Alright, although you can't kill me now, I really can't escape either. You deliberately stalled N'Zoth just now to consume my power and completely cut off my possibility of escaping, didn't you?"
"Of course, I won't kill you. On the contrary, I will bestow a gift upon you."
Arthas tacitly confirmed Xal'atath's guess, but what he said made Xal'atath shiver—the last existence who had said similar words to her was... Dimensius.