As Illidan said, there were no more Light-infused Naaru in the Seat of the Triumvirate, only a monster filled with darkness and despair.
But for Illidan, even a monster had its uses.
While Illidan couldn't utilize that dark Naaru, the person accompanying him happened to wield the same Void Power.
L'ura had no chance of being bathed in the Light again, so Illidan and Alleria worked together to defeat L'ura. Alleria then absorbed the Naaru's essence, completely embracing the Void.
The Void energy accumulated by L'ura over tens of thousands of years completely elevated Alleria, and the Void energy she could control increased by an unknown number of levels.
Illidan also broke out in a cold sweat at the time. Although he had never seen an elf absorb Void energy, he had seen many elves who plundered demonic fel go mad from the sudden surge of power. He didn't want to face an Alleria who was similarly driven mad by Void energy.
Fortunately, his fears did not materialize. Alleria's will overcame the Void's hunger, allowing her to control L'ura's essence.
The surging Void energy within her allowed Alleria to hear sounds she couldn't perceive before. These sounds, like screams or whispers, crashed against her mind like waves. But Alleria had already learned how to resist the Void's will, and after she filtered out the noisy Void sounds, a subconscious guidance led her to hear the voice of her beloved.
"Quick! Take cover, we'll have reinforcements soon!"
She heard Turalyon's voice very clearly. Realizing Turalyon was in danger, Alleria only had time for a brief farewell to Illidan before tearing open the Void and leaping to some unknown place.
Illidan didn't linger either. After packing up the holy relics he found, he immediately headed to the Legion warship commanded by Kil'jaeden.
After entering the Void domain, Alleria found that the previously chaotic space had transformed before her eyes. She used to have to rely on intuition and instinct to choose her teleportation landing spot, but now she could easily choose her exit point from the Void as simply as breathing.
After spending a short time confirming her bearings, Alleria unhesitatingly tore through space, leaping out from the Void rift.
As she exited the space, the longbow in her hand was already drawn to a full moon, and with the twang of a bowstring, a sharp arrow entwined with Void ripples shot out like lightning.
The arrow accurately struck the fel Annihilator below her. The metal, which was difficult for swords to harm, was instantly corroded with a large hole by the Void energy. After the purplish-black arrow entered the Annihilator's body, a violent explosion occurred. After a series of purple and green fire explosions, the originally indestructible large mech collapsed to the ground, completely incapacitated.
"Alleria!"
Turalyon, who had clearly seen the newcomer, was overjoyed. Although he had been told that Alleria was not in mortal danger, the reunion under such circumstances still made the usually steady Archbishop beam with joy.
After casually dealing with a steel monster, Alleria nodded to Turalyon, then transformed into a stream of ethereal light, shuttling across the battlefield, helping the allied forces deal with these troublesome war machines.
The Windrunner sisters, who were entangled with a mech on another part of the battlefield, also noticed someone quickly clearing these difficult Annihilators. The sharp-eyed Vereesa spotted Alleria's figure through the smoke and glare, and she exclaimed, "Is that Big Sister?!"
"I was wondering who was making such a big commotion."
Sylvanas replied expressionlessly, but her tense expression also began to relax at this moment. She and Vereesa were both covered in dust and grime. Although these bulky robots posed little threat to the two of them, their attacks on the Annihilators were ineffective.
Sylvanas even felt an urge to use the remaining few Holy Tree arrows, but it was fortunate that Alleria arrived in time, otherwise these arrows would have been doomed to their fate.
With Alleria's addition, the allied forces, who had been showing signs of decline, immediately sounded the horn of counterattack. Void arrows could easily destroy the Annihilators' relatively fragile joint connections and the gaps in their metal plating.
Whenever an arrow embedded itself in these parts, the Annihilator had no time to react before a muffled thud would sound from its body, followed by the detachment of damaged vital components.
Alleria aimed at the parts of these Annihilators that were equipped with high-powered weapons, so the Annihilators hit by Alleria's arrows were like tigers with their fangs and claws pulled out, leaving only their massive bodies to pose a threat to the allied forces.
But in front of the allied champions, who had gradually regained their footing under the pressure of the Annihilators and whose coordination was becoming more skilled, after losing their one-hit-kill fel weapons, the only outcome for these Annihilators was defeat.
As the last Annihilator mech crashed to the ground, this arduous battle finally came to an end. Many allied soldiers also sat down on the ground as the mech fell. This intense battle had consumed a great deal of their physical strength. After the high-intensity combat, they had already squeezed out every last ounce of energy from their bodies. Now that the enemy was cleared, the taut string in their minds could finally rest.
Subsequent reinforcements finally cleared the demons blocking the way below the high ground and rendezvoused with them. Medical personnel immediately treated the wounded according to the plan, and engineering units began to construct new defensive fortifications using the remnants of demonic structures.
They had cleared all resistance around the Burning Throne, occupying crucial high ground and passes, and from their high ground, the metal gates of the Burning Throne were already visible.
The black-green alloy reflected a dark green light against the fel magma. This impregnable fortress of the Burning Legion was for the first time threatened by resisters.
After a brief rest, Turalyon met with Uther, the commander of the reinforcement troops. The two had worked together for many years during the Second War, and without any unnecessary communication, a few brief exchanges completed the sharing of their intelligence.
Uther frowned slightly upon learning of the casualties among the vanguard, "The casualties are much more severe than we anticipated. Our offensive might have to slow down. We need to safely transport these wounded back to our main ship or even to Azeroth."
Transporting the wounded meant leaving behind a portion of their forces, and the remaining number of people who had teleported here would be insufficient to continue attacking the fortress.
But Turalyon had a different opinion, "Kil'jaeden has fallen, and they've already lost another high-ranking Legion commander here. We must seize this opportunity to push into Antorus's interior, otherwise, once they recover, we will suffer even greater losses."
Uther's frown deepened. He, of course, knew that a military opportunity could not be delayed, but the recent battle had created a large number of wounded, and these wounded had to be properly cared for.
Just as the two were agonizing over how to simultaneously ensure the safety of the wounded and continue the offensive, a familiar voice entered their ears, "Don't worry about insufficient forces. Leave enough people to look after the wounded, and continue the attack!"
Turalyon and Uther both turned their heads to look, and a burly figure in black armor slowly walked towards them. The man removed his helmet, revealing a face Turalyon was all too familiar with.
Anduin Lothar slowly spoke, "The Scourge will destroy all enemies who dare to obstruct us."
Decades ago, Turalyon would have never imagined that he would one day fight alongside a group of undead—even if the highest commander of that undead Legion was Lothar, the Grand Marshal and Grand Duke of the Alliance he most revered.
Although Turalyon had already understood part of the essence of undead creatures, realizing that they were essentially just people who remained in the present world through necromantic magic, Turalyon still couldn't overcome the hurdle in his heart.
But when he truly became a teammate with the Scourge, he finally understood why so many necromancers could conquer an entire heavily guarded town by merely enslaving a group of mindless zombies or Ghouls.
When the Scourge's naxxanar moved above Argus through teleportation magic, the Burning Legion, having lost its warships, could no longer pose a threat to these massive necromantic constructs.
Thanks to the desperate fighting of the vanguard, the Scourge now had the best opportunity to land. Just as Arthas had predicted, when the first wave of troops landing on Argus gradually showed signs of decline, it was the Scourge's turn to play its part.
The necromantic spell cannons mounted on the naxxanar had power comparable to the main guns of large warships. Although these naxxanar were slightly more cumbersome than warships, their massive urban structure also meant they could carry more armament.
As one necromantic energy blast after another, tearing through the sky, crashed into Antorus's metal bulwarks, the resulting tremors and explosions caused the entire mantle supporting Antorus to shake violently. Even the Azeroth Allied Forces, still some distance from the fortress, could clearly feel how fierce the naxxanar's firepower was.
The continuous necromantic bombardment almost dyed half the sky black-green, making Argus's already heavily polluted sky appear even more menacing.
No matter how strong a fortress, it could not remain unscathed under such firepower. When the shelling subsided, Turalyon immediately found that the tightly shut fortress gates had been torn apart by the artillery, twisting and leaning to both sides, and even the fortress walls embedded in the mantle had large and small dents and gaps.
The demons who still tried to use Antorus's outer walls for defense suffered countless casualties in an instant. By the time the Scourge's necromantic bombardment ended, the strongholds on the city walls were silent, for even tempered metal could not withstand such shelling, let alone demons still constrained by flesh and blood.
Lothar scanned the results of the battle, then mounted his undead warhorse and calmly said, "The gate has been breached. I will lead the advance."
Turalyon and Uther nodded in understanding. After Lothar rode off in a cloud of dust, they immediately arranged the subsequent combat deployment and settled the wounded on the high ground. The entire process was swift yet without any panic. Long before deciding to launch an offensive against Argus, they had made countless contingency plans to ensure everything would proceed in an orderly manner during the actual battle.
Uther allocated more than a third of his manpower to ensure the safety of the wounded. These soldiers also bore the heavy responsibility of controlling the outer defenses of Antorus for them—Antorus, though called a fortress, was actually far larger than most cities they knew. Almost all of the Burning Legion's core facilities were stationed within Antorus, its vastness was unimaginable.
Attacking Antorus was certainly not a task to be completed overnight. Moreover, even now, the Burning Legion's power had only revealed the tip of the iceberg. No one knew how long this war would last. The only thing they could be sure of was that it would be an extremely difficult struggle.
Although they had already defeated the Burning Legion's two commanders, Archimonde and Kil'jaeden, the Burning Legion did not entirely rely on these two demon lords to operate. Such a vast Legion, rampant across realms, must have a highly advanced command system that could ensure its combat effectiveness even without demon lords like Kil'jaeden and Archimonde at the helm.
Moreover, to this day, they had not heard any news about the Fallen Titan. That truly terrifying Dark Titan seemed to have completely hidden his existence from the universe, showing no concern that his Legion was being defeated on Argus itself.
"I can't imagine how a planet as large as our world could instantly collapse," Uther suddenly mused during a break in commanding. Even though Arthas had described it many times, he couldn't imagine, even if he exhausted his imagination, how the Titan could destroy a world with a single sword stroke.
Turalyon glanced at Uther and sighed, "Actually, I don't know either… During my time in the Twisting Nether, I also witnessed how the Legion reduced a world to ashes, but to make me think about how such a vast, magnificent planet could turn to dust in an instant—I can't imagine such a scene either."
"Perhaps it's good that we can't imagine it, that most people can't, otherwise many might completely lose the courage to fight."
Uther was somewhat self-deprecating. They never lacked courage, but courage seemed so small and powerless when facing things that completely transcended human understanding.
Turalyon looked towards the battlefield ahead. The Scourge's undead torrent had already surged into the demons' stronghold. Blue soul fire and green fel energy collided, instantly erupting in countless waves, washing over the bridges and roads of Antorus.
Perhaps the undead would never lose courage; they would only bravely and fearlessly slay all enemies in their path according to their master's commands, even if that enemy was a Titan, powerful beyond imagination.
"We are fortunate. In the countless eons that the Burning Legion ran rampant, countless worlds fell. And now, we at least have a chance to put a complete end to their atrocities."
Flames flickered in Turalyon's eyes, flames forged from hope and courage. He had fought the Legion in the chaotic Twisting Nether for a thousand years, and thus knew what a behemoth they were facing.
Even under the leadership of Zera, the Mother of Light, the Lightforged had never threatened the demons' stronghold, this emerald star Argus. But Arthas, leading the people of Azeroth, had done it. They had even overcome all obstacles, eliminating the Burning Legion's highest commanders. Now, all that remained were the Legion's deeply entrenched millennia of accumulation, and the Dark Titan whom no one had ever seen.
"But I think perhaps we don't need to be so pessimistic," Alleria suddenly interjected. She hadn't fully assimilated the Void Power within her, and thus had heard many voices from the chaotic void. From those voices, she learned some things, specifically how terrifying a being Dimensius truly was.
And Arthas had already defeated such a foe. Perhaps they didn't need to worry about Sargeras's trouble at all—after all, Your Majesty was always confident.
----
"What exactly do you want?! I told you to return for reinforcements, do you dare to defy my orders?!"
General Erodus slammed the control panel in front of him, and the immense force reverberated through the entire console, making the sturdy surface vibrate incessantly, even causing a slight distortion in the holographic image.
But the Demon Inquisitor on the other side of the holographic image was extremely cold. He still maintained a business-like demeanor, "I can't help it, General Erodus. The orders I received came from within the Burning Throne, and their priority is higher than the High Command Council."
"The entire Antorus is under threat right now, do you understand?!"
General Erodus never expected that the only and fastest unit they could contact would refuse the order to return for defense. This was simply unbelievable to him.
However, the Inquisitor responded with considerable confusion, "What does that have to do with us? Are you worried about being punished by the master for failing to perform your duties? If so, you should be more understanding of my difficulties."
After saying this, the Inquisitor directly cut off the communication. General Erodus looked at the extinguished holographic image, finally unable to suppress his rage. He roared and brought his fist down, smashing the control panel in front of him to smithereens.
The loud noise startled others. Syvrathix, the Admiral of the Burning Legion, walked over. She asked coldly, "What are you doing, General Erodus?"
"That damn Inquisitor refused the order to return to Argus! They said their mission priority was higher than reinforcing Argus?! What a ridiculous excuse!"
"Don't make a fool of yourself here, General Erodus."
Syvrathix, understanding the situation, interrupted General Erodus's roar, "Calm down. Anger alone won't kill all those ants invading Argus."
At Syvrathix's reminder, General Erodus took a deep breath, his chest muscles expanding and contracting repeatedly. After a while, he slowly calmed down. "Where is Hazzabel?"
A moment later, Hazzabel arrived at the High Command Council room. She also had a grim expression, clearly already knowing why General Erodus had summoned her. "If you're trying to pin the blame on me, I advise you to give up that idea."
General Erodus said discontentedly, "Pin the blame on you? Haha, that's ridiculous. You should know that if those mortals really cause a big stir in Antorus, then none of us, every single one, will be able to escape! Those Doomguard Matron Witches aren't playing house with you!"
Upon hearing General Erodus mention the four Doomguard Matron Witches, Syvrathix and Hazzabel both looked troubled, indicating that among the demons, these four Doomguard sisters were quite infamous.
As Sargeras's most fanatical and corrupted followers, the Doomguard Matron Witches only obeyed Sargeras's personal commands. Even Kil'jaeden and Archimonde found it difficult to command them.
They had served a crucial role deep within the Burning Throne in Antorus for a very long time, and few demons, apart from the high-ranking members of the Burning Legion, were allowed entry there.
The reason for their infamy was simple: one of the Doomguard Matron Witches' duties was to punish those fools who defied the Legion's will or failed in their tasks.
As mentioned before, only extremely high-ranking demons had the opportunity to enter there, even for punishment. Only beings with sufficient status within the Legion could be personally punished by Sargeras's fanatical servants; other weaker demons had long since died in unknown places.
However, for demons, the Doomguard Matron Witches' methods were a thousand times more terrifying than death. Even Syvrathix and her companions did not want to become "guests" in the secret chambers of those crazy witches.
Now that Kil'jaeden had perished and Ishkar had also lost his life due to carelessness, the responsibility for Antorus's outer defenses fell upon them. If anything went wrong, they felt they would be hard-pressed to avoid blame.
General Erodus slammed the table in anger, "To disregard the safety of our vital fortress for some vague, intangible goal is simply too stu— "
"Watch your words, General Erodus!"
Syvrathix quickly stopped General Erodus's complaint. She whispered, "Be careful he doesn't hear your grievances!"
General Erodus instantly fell silent, swallowing back the words he almost blurted out. For a moment, no one in the hall dared to speak. Apart from the crackling of the fel brazier, the surroundings were terrifyingly silent.
After confirming that nothing unusual had occurred, General Erodus also breathed a sigh of relief, though his expression was as unpleasant as if he had eaten a dead fly. "So, we just sit here and wait for those mortals to come knocking? They managed to deal with even Kil'jaeden and Ishkar. With our current forces, we might not be able to stop them."
"I'm already mobilizing the war machines. Have your soldiers delay them for a bit longer," Syvrathix said, then turned to Hazzabel, "How are the teleportation hubs coming along? When can reinforcements arrive?"
Hazzabel shook her head, "The areas outside the fortress have already fallen, and the teleportation beacons have been destroyed by those mortals. Any units that can be teleported can only arrive from within Antorus."
This meant that although they had vast reserves of troops, the number of units that could arrive simultaneously was limited. Even if the teleportation channels were pushed to their maximum load, they could not exceed the total capacity of the fortress.
The three of them felt a sense of suffocation. They had never encountered such a difficult situation. It was as if a large net surrounded Argus, blocking their distress signals everywhere, making every deployment they made feel like daggers in their backs.
My lord, there's more to this chapter, please click next page to continue reading, it's even more exciting!
Although their deployments were not flawed, they consistently failed to achieve any positive results. Their defensive lines were shrinking little by little, while those mortals were advancing rapidly, making them incredibly uncomfortable.
"Can that fleet really not be recalled to Argus?" General Erodus asked, unwilling to give up.
The reason for his persistence was simple: to ensure the successful completion of this mission personally issued by Sargeras, they had specially established a fast teleportation channel for this fleet within Antorus, ensuring that they could travel between the target location and Argus at the fastest possible speed.
As long as this fleet could return, they would instantly possess the aerial power to contend with the Azeroth Allied Forces, no longer losing air superiority as they were now, allowing Azeroth's ships and naxxanar to fire indiscriminately around the fortress.
Hazzabel dismissed General Erodus's last idea, "Forget about that fleet. Just pretend they don't exist. Even if our entire army is annihilated, they won't return for defense—unless you think that Inquisitor is willing to take your place in the Doomguard Matron Witches' cells for punishment."
General Erodus was speechless for a moment. Take his place in the witches' cells? General Erodus would rather believe that Sargeras took pity on them and personally drove the mortals back home.
But soon, General Erodus had a new idea, "Then… what if we lure these mortals towards that fleet?"
"Come on, General Erodus, mortals aren't idiots. How could they possibly run into a portal with an unknown destination?"
Hazzabel thought General Erodus must have been under too much stress and gone insane to come up with such a foolish idea.
But Syvrathix suddenly felt that it might not be impossible. Her eyes lit up, and she had an idea, "No, what if we don't make them enter the portal?"
After a giant fel mecha, several times larger than the Annihilator the allied forces had previously fought, let out an overloaded hum, its shattered metal body disintegrated and fell.
However, the naxxanar falling nearby still indicated the terrifying power of this mecha; despite being besieged from multiple sides, this Annihilator mecha single-handedly defended the pass leading to the fortress and even counterattacked, shooting down a Scourge naxxanar.
Half of the architectural structure of the naxxanar that crashed to the ground had completely collapsed; the Annihilator mecha's bombardment and the impact of the fall made it impossible for even the most solid structures to remain intact, but the Undead controlling the naxxanar showed no panic whatsoever when the fortress fell, as they had long since become fearless of death.
The Scourge even deliberately crashed the naxxanar onto a main road in Antorus, burying the path for the demon soldiers to sally forth with the ruins of the naxxanar. At the same time, the plague venom inside the naxxanar rapidly leaked due to damaged storage measures, and those deadly necromantic fluids immediately gathered into a pool next to the ruins that even demons dared not easily touch.
The demons splashed with necromantic sludge from the naxxanar's crash were enveloped in green corrosive liquid amidst their wails, and in an instant, the flesh on their bodies was stripped clean, leaving only a skeleton supporting the form of the sludge, creating countless slime monsters.
As soon as they appeared, these slime monsters wreaked havoc in the demon army. Their special form rendered all physical attacks and fel toxins, which ordinary demons were most skilled at, completely ineffective. They could only rely on continuous attacks and spells to wear down the size of these slime monsters.
However, the demon flesh devoured by the slime monsters themselves continuously decayed into new sludge, replenishing their damaged bodies. In this back-and-forth, the number of slime monster groups not only did not decrease but showed a trend of gradually increasing.
Just as the demons were being driven frantic by the slime monsters' reproduction, the Scourge Undead, having recovered from the crash, swarmed out from the ruins. Although many low-level Undead had lost limbs due to the impact and bombardment, as Undead creatures, they would not lose combat capability due to such minor issues.
As for the more elite high-ranking Undead, they used the cover of these servants to continuously exert pressure on the demons, preventing the demons in this direction from joining the efforts to stop the allied forces.
A single crashed naxxanar alone blocked an entire demon army. Such combat capability astonished Turalyon, but he did not express his inner shock. Instead, he asked if support was needed for the Scourge there, "Should that Undead unit, which crashed deep within enemy territory, fight alone?"
Lothar glanced at Turalyon. If it were another Scourge commander, he would certainly be impatient with Turalyon's question, but Lothar patiently explained, "For the living, the life of every soldier is precious and cannot be easily discarded. But for us, there is only attrition, not sacrifice."
Lothar was already one of the Scourge's generals who cherished his subordinates more, but even in his view, the number of Undead creatures was just a simple figure. As a commander, he could freely arrange for these Undead to carry out all his orders, even if that order meant mutual destruction.
For a commander, such an army was perfect. They would not be timid, would not be fatigued, and even logistical supplies could be sourced on the spot. The bodies of demons whose souls were completely killed would also decay and rot like normal creatures, which also meant that necromancy could similarly be performed on these corpses.
The only drawback was that an allied force composed of ordinary people would find it difficult to fight alongside the Scourge. Not to mention whether most soldiers could accept the Scourge's cult-like fighting style, the area-of-effect spells used by necromancers, which were harmful to all life, would keep most living people at a respectful distance.
"We are the specters of Azeroth, and our only purpose in existence is to serve Arthas," Lothar's voice was remarkably calm, even if this calmness seemed terrifying to Turalyon and others.
Turalyon's expression was solemn, "We will not forget your sacrifice, Grand Marshal. Let us together completely end the Burning Legion, right here, right now."
A barely perceptible smile appeared on Lothar's pale face, "It's good to fight alongside you again, Turalyon."
"Me too, Grand Marshal." Although he had been fighting in the Twisting Nether for thousands of years, Turalyon still retained a bit of the youthful shyness and awkwardness he had as a subordinate when facing his former superior and mentor, Lothar.
With the Scourge leading the way, the pressure on the allied forces instantly lessened considerably. The Scourge blocked the main force of the demons, allowing the allied forces to quickly pass through dangerous areas under the cover of the Undead army.
As an anti-demon allied force that integrated various elite military forces of Azeroth, many of its members possessed talents that were not limited to combat. Compared to the Undead Scourge, who were more adept at annihilation and attrition warfare, Lothar believed that these people's talents should be utilized in more useful ways.
For example, now, the allied forces' engineering units could focus on establishing positions and teleportation coordinates within Antorus, so that subsequent units could quickly penetrate into the Legion's core territory.
However, as they gradually delved deeper into the fortress of Antorus, closer to the core of the stronghold, a faint, indistinct sound suddenly echoed simultaneously in the soldiers' ears.
This peculiar situation was immediately compiled and reported. At this time, most of the commanders also heard that faint sound. Just as they were wary of whether this was another demon trick, Alleria and Turalyon beside them looked at them with puzzled expressions.
"What sound are you talking about?"
Lothar also did not understand, because he and his Undead subordinates had not heard this whisper, "I haven't received any feedback either."
Sylvanas, following her elder sister, exclaimed in surprise, "Didn't you hear it, elder sister? What about you, Vereesa?"
Vereesa, on the other hand, nodded affirmatively, "I heard it too... It sounded like a female voice, but it was very faint, and I couldn't understand what she wanted to say."
Just as everyone had not yet figured out the source of the sound, Lothar understood the key to it, "Hmm... This sound may not be transmitted through ordinary means. The Scourge soldiers have a soul barrier established by His Majesty, and ordinary mental transmission and corruption cannot penetrate this defense. This might be why I can't hear this sound."
Alleria seemed to realize something belatedly. She frowned and concentrated, temporarily cutting off her connection with the void. And as the whispers of the void gradually subsided, as the feeling of weakness and hunger within her climbed, she did indeed hear faint, indistinct female whispers.
"I heard it too. Sir Lothar is right. It seems that Void Power is blocking this sound—Turalyon's situation is probably the same; the Holy Light filtered out 'potentially' harmful mental transmissions for him, but you all don't have this protection."
Alright, now they understood how this sound got into their heads, but another question arose: where exactly did this sound come from?
Although this widespread psychic voice from an unknown source didn't have any particularly adverse effects on the allied forces, it did cause some commotion. After all, the owner of the voice seemed to be mumbling in their sleep, completely disregarding the listeners' situation and state, with the words continuously echoing in their ears.
While this mumbling had virtually no disruptive effect on ordinary soldiers, it was quite annoying for mages and engineers who needed to concentrate on high-precision tasks.
Within the mere tens of minutes that the mumbling spread, the allied command received hundreds of requests hoping to resolve the persistent mumbling.
Although Turalyon and others generally understood how these mumbles were spreading, the only solutions they could offer in a short time were to use psychic protection and a series of similar spells to resist them.
However, this also meant that they couldn't completely resolve the trouble the mumbling caused them, and many allied members in special environments or situations still suffered from the annoyance of the mumbling.
The mages on the allied front line spent a lot of effort and could only trace the source of these mumbles. They roughly pointed to a certain place deep within Antorus, but the exact location would only be clear after they broke into the fortress.
After listening to a magic-recorded snippet of the mumbling, Xal'atath also frowned, "You said this voice is coming from inside the fortress?"
Turalyon in the projection nodded, "Our mages have confirmed this result multiple times."
"That's truly strange... This is the whisper of a World Soul—and not a nascent World Soul like Azeroth, but a complete World Soul. To use a term you're familiar with, this voice comes from a Titan."
"A Titan?"
Even Turalyon's voice involuntarily rose by half a tone, "Could it be Argus?"
Arthas had already informed the senior commanders of the allied forces about the intelligence that the planet Argus possessed a World Soul and had been transformed into a Death Titan by Sargeras, so Turalyon immediately wondered if the source of the mumbling might be Argus.
But Xal'atath quickly denied this idea, "Impossible. If it were Argus, he wouldn't use mumbling so gently to deal with us—and this Death Titan should now be serving as the Burning Legion's power core. Sargeras wouldn't play this trump card until the Legion is completely defeated."
As Arthas's Intendant, Xal'atath understood more secrets. If she hadn't known that the current Pantheon hadn't been completely transformed by Sargeras into his Dark Pantheon, she wouldn't have gotten involved in this mess.
Dealing with a few incomplete puppet Titans and dealing with an entire Dark Pantheon corrupted by Sargeras are completely different concepts.
"I'll inform your King about this matter first. For now, there's no need to take any special countermeasures. I suspect this might be another plot by the Legion."
Although Xal'atath had some guesses about the source of the mumbling, she wasn't sure why the Burning Legion would do this. After some thought, the best solution might be to directly inform Arthas and let him handle this level of problem.
After all, the mumbling represented an existence that could not be resisted by ordinary means. Whether the opponent was friend or foe, issues concerning Titans deserved careful consideration.
As Xal'atath expected, when she conveyed this message to Arthas, his reply was also quite concise and clear.
"I will handle this matter. You continue to weaken the Legion's effective strength."
---
After Arthas learned about the Titan-related news from Xal'atath, he directly handed his current work to the Netherwalker, "The things the Legion left behind, as well as the legacies of the Shadow Guard and Dimensius, please handle them for me."
The Netherwalker readily accepted, "Gladly. I will take care of everything concerning Kalesh. If you need me to do anything, just summon me."
Arthas, who dominated a Void Lord, could naturally capture the Netherwalker's signal from the Void at any time, and this Titan-related issue was clearly more important than cleaning up Kalesh's mess.
After capturing the original text of the mumbling that Xal'atath had also transmitted from the Void, Arthas began to decipher its contents.
Commanding Power is essentially a language, so Arthas's work to decipher the mumbling was actually quite simple. He directly and violently dismantled the power within the mumbling and reconstructed it using the common tongue he was most familiar with. Although this would cause some damage to the original information, it was enough to obtain content close to the original meaning.
A few seconds later, a passage of text appeared in the Void.
"Save me... he's coming."
Arthas had already determined that the owner of the mumbling was calling for help, and from the "he" she wanted to avoid, Arthas perceived a giant god of eternal, unquenchable fury, like hellfire.
Clearly, this "he" referred to the master of the Burning Legion, Sargeras.
"So it's you, Eonar? But why would your plea for help appear on Argus and be heard by ordinary denizens of Azeroth?"
A Titan's call could indeed travel through vast expanses of space and time, but not everyone could capture such a distress signal. Otherwise, Sargeras would have found Eonar's soul long ago.
Since it was confirmed that this call came from Eonar, it was indeed worth extending a helping hand. In the fight against Sargeras, the help of one more Titan would mean a few more chances of victory.
So Arthas didn't hesitate. After obtaining the precise coordinates by deciphering the mumbling, Arthas directly wielded Dimensius's power, making this Void Lord tear open a path to that distant world for him amidst his impotent rage.
The Void Lord's power was quite useful for such traversal, even saving Arthas more time and effort than teleporting himself.
As the power of the Void gradually receded and the world regained its original colors, Arthas's vision was filled with vibrant greenery. Thriving life burst forth on this world, and guided by the coordinates, he arrived at a planet covered in primeval forest vegetation.
However, the green fel clouds covering the sky and the animals fleeing across the mountains indicated that this planet was being invaded by some force.
Legion warships flashed across the sky. They were meticulously searching the planet's surface, hoping to discover their target, the Titan—Eonar—hidden in some corner.
It seemed the Legion had already located the planet where Eonar was, but they didn't know her exact position on this planet, so they dispatched a fleet to search the planet.
Eonar must have also discovered the Legion's invasion, but she was incredibly weak now, even struggling to resist a Legion fleet. Although the barrier set up by the Titan could prevent her from being discovered by demons for a short time, over time, the Legion would inevitably discover her exact location.
Alaria, a vibrant, emerald-like planet, where life had enjoyed peace and tranquility for thousands of years, undisturbed by any evil.
These primordial beings, still in their nascent stages without developed civilizations, were unaware that on their homeworld, a great entity silently licked its wounds, praying that its scattered kin had not fallen into the hands of the Dark King.
The Titan Eonar, for decades, accumulated her strength day after day, hoping to recover from the terrible injuries Sargeras had inflicted upon her, but the Dark King's power was simply too immense; even her fellow Titans could not withstand the destructive force of Sargeras's wrath.
Millions of years later, Eonar still could not erase the wounds caused by the Dark King.
Norgannon's magic had eluded Sargeras's notice, allowing them to temporarily scatter and escape from Sargeras's grasp, but all the Titans knew that such an escape would not last forever.
If no one stood up to stop Sargeras, the Titans would eventually be recaptured by him.
Should the soul essence of even one Titan fall into the hands of Sargeras and his minions, he would immediately realize that the other Titans might also be alive in spirit form.
Eonar's power at this moment was insufficient to dimensional travel the dark cosmos and contact her kin; she could only helplessly hide on Alaria, powerless to ascertain the fate of her brethren.
But Eonar also understood that such hiding would eventually come to an end; without the Pantheon's intervention, the Burning Legion's power would continue to expand.
One day, her hiding place would be discovered, and that day would be the advent of doomsday.
And the moment her created Titan constructs reported the appearance of Legion warships, the despair and helplessness in Eonar's heart almost reached its peak—she understood that this day had arrived.
But Eonar was not prepared to surrender without a fight; when she noticed the Legion fleet appearing over Alaria, she had already organized a resistance.
To remain as inconspicuous as possible, Eonar's sanctuary was unassuming, its facilities quite rudimentary, and even the number of Titan constructs maintaining it was extremely sparse.
Aside from the essential equipment needed to sustain the sanctuary's basic operations and aid her recovery, Eonar had streamlined most redundant facilities.
This made Eonar's sanctuary extremely secluded, yet unlike most Titan facilities preserved on ordered planets, it was not heavily guarded.
The power she could wield was also quite limited; the current Eonar was so weak that destroying a single warship might require a period of charging.
She was unsure if the constructs she had created could buy her enough time.
Eonar looked at her children, the offspring born from her hands, who stood anxiously around their Mother Goddess.
A handmaiden stone statue asked, "Mother, what should we do?"
Another handmaiden stone statue resolutely said, "Of course, we fight those evil monsters to the death!"
"To protect our Mother Goddess, we will spare no effort!"
The Titan stone statues responded one by one.
It was Eonar who had given them life, and though they were nominally Eonar's servants, this benevolent Titan had always treated these constructs as her children.
Therefore, they were willing to fight to the death for their mother and the Burning Legion.
But Eonar could not bear to watch her children and this planet head towards doomsday with her.
In her profound anguish, she selected a portion of the stone statues and gave them what might be their final instructions: "Take the valuable equipment, machinery, and precious data, and hide in the deep underground facilities.
If we fail, I will detonate my power, perishing with the Legion.
After that, the life on this planet will need you to look after and guide them."
This was a very helpless choice; Eonar had no confidence in defeating this fully armed Legion fleet.
If things truly reached an irreversible point, not only she, but also the planet she was on, would likely not be spared.
Rather than letting the Titan's secrets vanish with her into the cosmos, it was better to leave a seed of hope, so that at least future generations would have an extra measure of strength to resist the Legion.
After watching the stone statues, laden with numerous instruments and precious data, disappear into the depths of the mountains, Eonar's soul exhaled.
She gazed at the Legion fleet slowly approaching in the sky, understanding that they had already discovered her hiding place.
"Come, Sargeras's minions, I will show you the wrath of a Titan!"
The stone statues and constructs in the sanctuary picked up their gardening tools, which they used to tend Eonar's garden.
These were their weapons.
They were not Titan Guardians born for battle, but at this moment, they were willing to fight to the death to protect their mother.
There were only five Legion warships in the sky, yet they appeared so unstoppable, filling Eonar's heart with immense sorrow.
Once upon a time, Eonar needed only to wave her hand to destroy this fleet, but now, she could only hope that the sanctuary's defenses could hold out until she had accumulated enough power.
The hum and pollution of the fel engines grew closer, and Eonar and her Guardians became increasingly tense and silent.
Suddenly, the fleet's flagship stopped, followed by the entire fleet.
They turned their direction, redirecting their cannons, which had been aimed at the sanctuary, elsewhere.
Eonar was momentarily stunned, not understanding why such a change had occurred, but before she could even ponder, an entire fleet opened fire with full force.
The overwhelming fel bombardment almost dyed the entire sky a defiled green.
Following the trajectory carved by the fel beams, Eonar finally discovered the fleet's target: in the distant sky, a figure stood upon the horizon.
Countless fel projectiles struck that incredibly tiny point compared to the ships, emitting earth-shattering explosions.
Scattered fel fire and clouds permeated the sky, yet the figure continued to approach the fleet steadily and at a constant speed, completely unhindered by the bombardment.
After a brief charge, when the fel spear launched by the ship's main cannon struck his body, the high-energy beam, capable of instantly melting rock and metal, encountered a golden Wall of Sighs.
The fel laser split into several smaller, scattered beams in the sky, like a bursting bamboo stalk; half pierced through the clouds and soared into the heavens, while the other half plummeted to the ground, devastating forests and rocks, igniting raging fires.
Amidst the flames, the golden Holy Light remained conspicuous.
Eonar saw the young human with golden hair lightly wave his arm, and a Holy Light blade, hundreds of meters long, sliced out from the void at the fleet's flank.
Like a hot knife through butter, it severed a fel warship in mid-air.
The falling ship cast down a rain of fire, and countless demons, wailing, were incinerated into ashes by the scorching Holy Light.
Whether it was a scrawny imp or a powerful demon lord, none could withstand the dazzling light for even a moment.
The Holy Light, like a divine sword, pronounced a death sentence upon the entire fleet.