"As you wish, my King. We will do our utmost to fulfill your command."
Leyara's voice was melodic and deep, a softness that made her exceptionally charming. A mature elf who had already raised a daughter, combined with the natural beauty of her race—she was a captivating figure when she chose to be.
They had crossed paths before while dealing with the Nightmare in Val'sharah. Back then, she had been wary of Arthas. But after the Nightmare was crushed and Arthas repeatedly proved his worth as an ancient hero, Leyara's attitude shifted. Occasionally, her gaze carried a hint of something more ambiguous.
Arthas, however, generally ignored women playing the flirtation game. He had moved past that stage of his life long ago. His past pursuits were legends: the famed Banshee Queen Sylvanas and the once-sovereign Queen Azshara. Compared to them, Leyara was out of her league. He simply treated her advances as if he hadn't noticed them at all.
While the camp was being constructed, Arthas nodded to Helya. She understood immediately and summoned a flying carpet made of Devilsaur hide. Devilsaurs possessed high natural magic resistance, and after special enchanting processes by the Nightborne, the hide could act as a reservoir for energy while maintaining its defensive properties.
He lifted Shandris onto the carpet and stroked her hair. "Let's take a flight. Let's see what makes this Pandaria so different."
Helya took the role of the pilot. The carpet rose slowly, and an invisible shield cut off the biting wind, maintaining a comfortable temperature. Behind them, a squad of Dragonhawk Riders took flight—a Blood Elf guard unit responsible for the King's safety. They were all beauties from the Cult of the Protector, trained personally by Sylvanas herself.
The Jade Forest was a landscape of steep slopes covered in green bamboo. It seemed Pandaria was the only place where bamboo flourished in such abundance. A circling eagle caught sight of the magical carpet and veered away; an instinct deep in its soul whispered that these beings were not to be trifled with.
As Arthas moved, the dark fog on his system interface cleared. One pass was all he needed to reveal the hidden life forms and settlements. Below, he saw simple bamboo huts and natural caves hiding predators like grizzly bears and panthers. On the cliffs, wild goats climbed for salt, their meat tough and pungent—hardly worth the hunt.
"Helya, have you been here before?" Arthas asked.
Helya, styled with light smoky eye makeup that balanced her seductive aura with a professional edge, nodded. "That was over thirty thousand years ago. Before the Great Sundering. Back then, this was just the southernmost tip of the continent. It was unremarkable, save for the lingering resentment left by Y'Shaarj. That malice cannot be purged; it is tied to the emotions of mortals. As long as living beings here feel fear, anger, or despair, the Sha will be nourished."
"Even simple creatures feel these things," she continued. "The prey feels terror, feeding the Sha of Fear. The hunter feels bloodlust, fueling the Sha of Anger. For Keepers or loyal Titan-forged, these emotions have little effect, but for others..."
"The only thing truly worth noting here is Ra-den. I can sense that he isn't dead, but his presence as a Keeper has vanished. It's strange."
Helya shared what she knew. After being turned into a Val'kyr and imprisoned by Odyn, she had been cut off from the world for millennia. Later, she had settled in the Broken Isles, ignoring the outside changes.
"It doesn't matter," Arthas said. "There should be a Titan facility here, right?" He thought of the Mogu'shan Vaults—a place he used to farm weekly for the Astral Cloud Serpent back in his "gaming" days.
Helya shook her head. "I am not sure, but I can use spells to locate Titan signatures. The facilities here were likely Ra-den's personal projects. I don't know if other Keepers have access."
"Find it. Ra-den has fallen into despair; if he wants to wallow, let him. But his power was stolen by one of his creations. That power, while not world-shattering, is still very useful."
Arthas remembered the Goddess Aionhara's request for energy sources. Here was a prime candidate: the Mogu warlord who had rebelled against Ra-den, dubbed himself the Thunder King, and stolen the Keeper's heart and power to become one of the strongest demigods in history.
He tapped into his natural abilities to manifest a magical mirror, using it as a high-definition video call. On the other side was a spacious dining room. Azshara sat there, looking stunning even without makeup, elegantly chewing a piece of steak.
"Oh? My husband actually contacted me. Hehe, did you miss me?"
"I did. There are things to handle here, but I'll be back in a few days. If it's convenient, you should come over. This is a new continent with a lot to explore. The risk is low, the environment is beautiful—perfect for a vacation."
Arthas felt a twinge of pride. No one else could have wed the arrogant Highborne Queen. Now, the Queen of the Naga was not only devoted to him but was carrying his child.
Azshara giggled, her laughter causing a certain "mountainous" vista to sway. "Your words make me happy. Once your camp is done, I'll come over with Jaina and Sylvanas. Walking around is good for the pregnancy. Those two... if they don't see you for a day, they feel quite empty inside."
Sylvanas, who was nearby eating a Dimetrodon steak, chimed in with a smirk. "You're the one who can't stand being away from him! Don't use us as your shield!"
The banter was light. In this family, there were no Queens or servants—only sisters. It was a sense of equality Azshara had never known, and she found she didn't mind the lack of deference.
"Anyway, my husband," Azshara said, her tone shifting. "You didn't call just to be romantic. What's on your mind? We've been together long enough—don't play coy. A few months ago, you weren't this polite; you were like a wild bull."
Sylvanas scoffed at the "wild bull" comment, though her blushing cheeks suggested she remembered those days quite well.
Arthas chuckled. "There's a race here called the Mogu. Their last leader was called the Thunder King, Lei Shen. Do you know him?"
Azshara took a bite of a deep-sea shrimp dumpling, her eyes flickering. "Mogu? Thunder King? Hmm, sounds familiar. Vashj, do you remember?"
Vashj, also pregnant but still maintaining her role as a lady-in-waiting, frowned as she scanned her memories. "Mistress, I believe there was a 'Thunder King' in Pandaria. He once fought a Zandalari Loa to a standstill. Long ago, when you were inspecting the construction of a Temple of Elune in the south, you encountered that low-born creature. He and the Loa Rezan tried to challenge you together, but you drove them back with ease."
Azshara's eyes flashed with disdain as the memory returned. "Ah, yes. Rezan... that T-Rex Loa? Hmph. If it hadn't run so fast, I would have had it for dinner. And that stone man next to it—I thought it was some new, ugly golem. Filthy, clumsy thing."
"He dared to call himself the Thunder King? Bah! Shameless. I could have crushed that wretch with one finger. Husband, is he still alive?"
If the Thunder King—a man who had conquered a continent and stolen the power of a god—could hear Azshara now, he would likely have kicked the lid off his coffin in sheer rage. To her, the legendary Lei Shen was just an "ugly golem" not worth a second thought.