A Nerubian's Journey

Chapter 66
"Are you certain that this is wise?" Krasus asked cautiously as he observed the strange white monolith that dominated the region of Draenor the locals referred to as Nagrand.

The vessel used by the draenei to traverse the Twisting Nether and arrive on this world resembled a massive crystal mountain. Given the many spirits he could sense drifting around the structure, it was no surprise that the orcs called it Oshu'gun, or 'Mountain of Spirits.'

Krasus turned his attention to Prophet Velen with his selected group who would accompany him on this mission. It had only been a few weeks since he had made contact with the draenei, but Velen was by far the oldest looking of his kind that Krasus had seen so far. He possessed a long white beard and purple skin etched with wrinkles, but he displayed a strength of body that could only be due to the Light's empowerment.

"I am quite certain, Archmage Krasus," said Prophet Velen as he stared at the structure with a forlorn expression. The translation spell taught to him by Lord Malygos worked smoother and more accurately than the one Krasus had used before. "I was prepared to abandon the Genedar if necessary, but the Light has delivered you to my people in our hour of greatest need. So, I see no reason to do so now. It would be to our great benefit if we prevented the Burning Legion from capturing K'ure and the Genedar."

Genedar was how the draenei referred to the trans-dimensional ship and K'ure was the naaru that was currently trapped inside. Krasus agreed with Velen that bringing the Genedar to Azeroth would be a great victory, but it was not without risks.

"The demon presence on the ship is likely to be significant," said Krasus as he observed the subtle ward of Fel magic erected around the structure. While it was designed primarily to prevent spirits from leaving or K'ure from making contact with the outside world, the ward would also alert any demons inside when they breached its perimeter. "Your people will need your leadership once they are transported to Azeroth. Risking your life in such a direct assault could result in catastrophic consequences."

Velen's gaze did not waver from the Genedar and his expression hardened with resolve. "My people need hope more than anything else, Archmage Krasus. If we can secure K'ure and the vessel that kept them safe for millennia, we give them not just hope, but a future as well. It is a risk I am willing to take."

He paused and turned to look at the gathered group. "It is not my intention to recklessly endanger myself or those who have put their faith in me. We will approach this mission with caution and strategy. We will work together as we always have, and Light willing, we will prevail."

Krasus took in the expressions of the gathered draenei and could not see the slightest hint of fear in any of them. In the short time that he had known them, it had become clear to Krasus that these people had been honed by countless hardships directed toward the draenei by the Burning Legion.

Since the draenei encampment was far from the Genedar, Krasus was only able to bring as many as he was able to carry on his back. Despite this, he had no doubt that these few elite warriors would be enough to purge the structure of its demonic occupants.

With a sigh, Krasus acquiesced. "Very well. I suppose then that we should go over our strategy one final time so that there is no miscommunication."

One of the draenei paladins, a hulking man in shimmering armor and carrying a crystalline warhammer, stepped forward. Vindicator Maraad was apparently one of Velen's strongest remaining warriors and one of the first to volunteer for this mission.

"Our primary goal is to clear the Genedar of demons as quickly as possible and prepare it to be teleported to Azeroth. The demons will attempt to call for reinforcements and summon more of their kind. So swiftness is of the essence. We must strike hard and fast."

"We should also make a priority to secure K'ure," said Ishanah, a stern-faced priestess of the Light. "The demons may seek to destroy the naaru once they realize that they can no longer hold the Genedar."

Krasus nodded in agreement. It wasn't a particularly detailed plan, but there wasn't much else that they could do with their limited knowledge of the enemy forces. There was only one more detail that they needed to address.

"Will we be moving as a single group, or will we be moving separately so that we can clear the Genedar more quickly?" asked Krasus, as he deliberately glanced toward a certain figure who was standing away from the group.

His implication obvious, everyone turned to look toward the former leader of the Vindicators, the defenders of the draenei society. Akama barely resembled the rest of the draenei, his mouth filled with a row of needle sharp teeth and his face deformed and elongated.

According to Velen, the Broken were draenei who had been corrupted by the foul magic of the orc warlocks when the draenei's former capital city of Shattrath was besieged. Akama and the Broken had been exiled from draenei society due to prejudices caused by their loss of the innate ability to wield the Light. However, Prophet Velen had called for the Broken to be brought back to the draenei's hidden camp, in a marsh on the coast of the Zangar Sea, once Krasus had offered the draenei way off Draenor.

"I will move alone and clear the upper portions of the Genedar," said Akama, his voice rougher and more gravely than that of any of the other draenei. "Vindicator Maraad is correct. We must move swiftly, and we cannot do so if half of you are too busy watching me while expecting a blade in your backs."

Krasus noticed a mixture of relief and shame flashing across the expressions of the gathered draenei, but nobody voiced an objection. There would come a time when the draenei would have the opportunity to fix the fissures in their society, but that time was not now.

"Once we are prepared, I will inform Lord Malygos so that he can begin the ritual to transport your people to Azeroth," Krasus said, cutting through the awkward silence that followed Akama's words. "The spell will cause a disturbance to Draenor's leylines capable of being felt by any skilled magic user on the planet. The Burning Legion is likely to develop countermeasures against this once they have fully realized what has happened, but your people and the Genedar should be far away from here by that point."

Krasus could see the overwhelming relief that overcame the draenei at the reminder that they would soon be away from Draenor. He couldn't even begin to understand the scale of torment they must have endured on this cursed world. Krasus had already quietly evacuated several other native groups across to Azeroth over the past year and they had all been glad to leave. However, the draenei were the largest group and had suffered the most at the hands of the Horde.

"My people owe you and those on Azeroth a debt that can never truly be repaid," Velen said, his voice overwhelmed with gratitude.

"You are wrong," Krasus said immediately, shaking his head. "Your people can repay us by aiding us against the Burning Legion, but we can speak more on that later. We cannot afford to waste any more time."

The Prophet nodded in agreement. "You are correct. My people and I are ready to face the demons within Genedar at any time. Please inform your leader to begin the ritual to transport my people to your world once you are ready."

Seeing no reason not to do so, Krasus nodded in turn and began casting the communication spell that would put him into contact with Lord Malygos. It was amazing to him that such a spell could function across worlds, but that was to be expected from the Aspect of Magic.

After a few moments, Krasus could hear the irritated voice of Lord Malygos echoing in his mind.

"Korialstrasz? What is it? Are those draenei finally prepared to leave that demon infested world of theirs?"

"Yes they are, Lord Malygos,"
Krasus quickly confirmed. "We are currently preparing to purge the Genedar of demons and will begin as soon we feel the arcane aftershocks of your spell."

"Hmph. Then I will begin casting the spell now. Contact me again once you've secured the vessel and used the artifact I provided you to prepare it for transportation."


Without waiting for a response, Lord Malygos terminated the mental connection. Krasus turned to the draenei and quickly updated them on the situation. The draenei murmured words of acknowledgment and began making their final preparations for the fight ahead. Krasus had significantly overestimated how long it would take Lord Malygos to complete his spell and it wasn't long before everyone flinched in surprise as the leylines of Draenor shook.

The feeling reminded him much of the Dark Portal's opening, though somewhat less dramatic. After the disturbance ceased, Krasus gave a curt nod to Velen who turned to the gathered draenei.

"May the Light protect us," Velen murmured as he raised his staff and a soft glow washed over them all. Krasus could feel the Light bolstering his courage and banishing any hint of exhaustion as he called upon his own magic to begin casting defensive spells over himself.

When their final preparations were complete, Prophet Velen once more called upon the Light and shattered the Fel ward around the Genedar. Vindicator Maraad began quickly leading them from the front through the crystalline tunnels that would take them to the vessel's interior. As they traveled further, Krasus could sense the ambient magic gradually growing more corrupted by the Burning Legion's foul Fel magic.

The group charged through the tunnels, and it wasn't long before they entered the Genedar. Krasus was immediately struck by the strange nature of the vessel's hallways, constructed with an unusual combination of metal and crystals. Krasus observed ruefully that they were too small for him to shift to his true form as they were confronted by their first demon.

The winged creature was similar to most sapient races on Azeroth in that it had two arms and two legs, but that was where the similarities ended. The demon's head was surrounded by six twisted horns and its torso contained two eyes and a gaping maw that spewed forth Fel magic as the creature rushed forward on cloven hooves.

"Terrorfiend!" shouted Vindicator Maraad, his eyes filled with fury as he charged the demon with his crystalline warhammer raised.

The demon thrust a jagged sword and released a stream of Fel fire from its torso-mouth that would have incinerated a common warrior. Vindicator Maraad merely danced to the side of the incoming blow, protected from the fire by the Light, and swung his warhammer with enough force to decapitate the demon in a single blow.

"They know we are here now," Priestess Ishanah murmured as the creature collapsed to the floor.

"Then we should move quickly," Krasus said, shaking off his surprise as to how quickly the demon was dispatched. "Akama, you sho—"

Krasus turned to search for the Broken, only to realize that he had already left, presumably to begin clearing the Genedar's upper floors.

"Akama has never been one to waste time," Prophet Velen said with a light chuckle. "Let us get moving. I can hear K'ure calling for our aid."

With that, the group broke into a fast sprint towards the lower chamber where the naaru was being held. The demons charged at them with reckless abandon and did everything they could to slow their progress, but they had clearly been unprepared to stand against an Archmage and the draenei's most powerful warriors.

The demons varied in strength and size, from gnome-sized cackling imps to the magic devouring fel hounds. The imps were nuisances, flooding the halls as they flung tiny fireballs from every direction that forced Krasus to summon arcane barriers around the group. The fel hounds were more dangerous. Their magic resistance posed a notable threat to Krasus in his mortal form, but Maraad was able to make short work of them with his warhammer. Prophet Velen was also able to quickly heal any wounds they sustained and regularly cleared the hallway of demons with bursts of Light.

Only the Terrorfiends truly caused them significant issues, as they were deceptively cunning and didn't hesitate to take advantage of distractions caused by the lesser demons.

As they progressed further into the Genedar, Krasus suddenly spotted a Terrorfiend emerging from a hallway they had just passed, its hideous form lunging toward Ishanah with its maw wide open ready to devour her.

Realizing that he couldn't intercept the Terrorfiend with a fireball without hitting Ishalah, Krasus swiftly cast a geomancy spell that he had learned from the nerubians. Moments before the demon could devour the draenei priestess one of the hallway's crystals extended from the ground and skewered the Terrorfiend through its maw.

Ishalah looked back in surprise before turning to look at Krasus with a grateful expression. "Thank you, Archmage."

Krasus nodded in acknowledgment but quickly turned his attention back to the fight. Their progress was slow and the numerous demons continued to attack them on their path, but Velen's Light kept them strong as they moved forward.

Eventually, the group reached what appeared to be the center of the ship, a large open chamber in which several demons were summoning more of their kind through small portals. K'ure, a being of floating scintillating crystals, was constantly emitting a sense of pain and despair. The naaru's light was far dimmer than Krasus expected.

The source of the naaru's pain was obvious as Krasus spotted a Shivarra demon standing close to it. The creature resembled an unnaturally tall female elf with six arms holding cruelly curved blades. This particular Shivarra was channeling Fel magic directly into K'ure in an obvious attempt to corrupt the naaru.

The more dangerous demon however was the one standing next to the Shivarra

"Defilers!" The Doomlord's voice was like a thousand grating rocks, echoing ominously throughout the room. "I am Doom Lord Kaz'eth, and I will tear your souls asunder!"

The demon was similar in appearance to the Terrorfiends, except being significantly larger in size and lacking the characteristic maw stretching across its torso. Doom Lord Kaz'eth swung his massive greatsword and unleashed a wave of Fel fire that surged toward them.

The attack was only stopped by a hastily made barrier of Light by Velen. Krasus decided to respond in kind and let loose a large stream of Life-infused fire toward the demons opening the portals. Life was not quite as inimical to demons as the Light, but the disgusting creatures still screamed as his flames washed over them.

Within moments, nearly two dozen demons had been burned to ashes. The demons holding the portals open didn't last much longer as Krasus impaled them on multiple spears of ice that he launched with a wave of his hand.

"There," Krasus said with a smirk of satisfaction. "Now we don't need to worry about any more reinforcements."

"Do not grow over confident," Velen warned firmly. "The Doomlords are among the more powerful demons in the Burning Legion."

As if intending to prove the Prophet's point, the enormous demon charged them at a speed belying its bulk and swung its sword with the intention of bisecting Vindicator Maraad. Krasus erected his strongest arcane barrier to deflect the blow and was shocked when the barrier started to crack. Such a barrier was strong enough to sustain multiple blows from most fully grown dragons, yet the Doomlord had nearly destroyed it in a single hit.

Vindicator Maraad didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity given to him and let loose a furious roar as he struck the demon's knee with his warhammer. Doom Lord Kaz'eth grunted in pain but wasn't otherwise harmed. Before it could react, Krasus cast another spell that teleported himself and the rest of the group to the other side of the chamber.

Properly repositioned, Krasus released a barrage of arcane missiles at the two remaining demons as Vindicator Maraad attacked the Doomlord to keep it away from the rest of the group. Velen and Ishalah joined in, alternating between casting powerful defensive magics and healing any wounds Maraad sustained from the demon.

The draenei proved why he was one of his peoples strongest warriors as he deftly weaved between the Doomlord's vicious attacks while retaliating with Light enhanced strength. Eventually, the Shivarra must have realized that it wouldn't be able to corrupt the naaru in time because it quite suddenly lunged toward Maraad with all six of its blades swinging toward the draenei's back.

Krasus attempted to skewer it from its blindspot with a geomancy controlled crystal, but the Shivarra dodged the blow with supernatural intuition. Just as he was about to cast another spell, the Shivarra was suddenly stopped dead as Akama emerged from the shadows and buried his sickle-like weapon into the creature's skull.

What good timing, Krasus thought with relief as the Broken draenei immediately threw himself at the Doomlord.

From there, the outcome of the battle was inevitable as they all turned their attention to the last remaining demon. The Doomlord was a formidable foe, but there was little that it could do against Velen's overwhelming strength in the Light. The Prophet constantly created barriers of Light to shield his followers and healed any wounds that they sustained the instant it occurred. All the while he shone with a brilliance that bolstered them and weakened the demon.

In one instance, Doom Lord Kaz'eth struck Maraad with a blow that nearly removed his arm, only for the wound to be healed a moment later.

The demon's death finally came when Akama leapt onto its shoulder and buried his sickles into the Doomlord's eyes. As it screamed, Vindicator Maraad slammed his warhammer into the demon's side, throwing it off balance. Krasus didn't hesitate to follow up by summoning a cloud of frozen mist around the demon that quickly transformed into hundreds of icy insects that tore at its flesh. Velen and Ishalah joined their efforts, bathing Doom Lord Kaz'eth in pure Light.

The demon let out a guttural scream as it writhed in agony. Eventually, the creature stilled and silence fell over the chamber, save for the calming chimes being made by the naaru.

"Is everyone alright?" Krasus asked, looking over the draenei.

"We are all well, Archmage Krasus," said Prophet Velen, his voice distracted as he made his way over to the naaru.

Velen placed his hand on one of the floating crystals that made up the entity's body, a light shimmering between his fingers. K'ure's light began to pulse more strongly, but it was obvious to everyone that the naaru was not in a good condition.

"K'ure has been severely weakened and is still at risk of falling to the Void," Velen said gravely. "We must act quickly to teleport the Genedar to Azeroth so that we may give them the help they need."

Prophet Velen had warned Krasus that the naaru had a tendency to be corrupted by the Void once they were completely drained of their Light. He didn't quite understand the magical principles involved, but Velen claimed that they would be able to heal the naaru with the assistance from more practitioners of the Light.

Krasus wasn't too concerned about the matter, as the Aspects should be more than capable of handling the situation even in the worst case scenario.

"Understood," said Krasus as he reached into his spatial bag. "I will begin preparing the Genedar for transportation."

Fortunately, Lord Malygos and Keeper Archaedas had prepared a device capable of instantly creating the ritual circle needed for the teleportation spell. Creating a complex ritual circle manually around a structure as large as the Genedar would have taken far too long otherwise.

The device was a compact orb made of pure titansteel, and adorned with various gemstones imbued with magical properties. Its construction was a marvel that could have only been created by a being like Keeper Archaedas. Elegant small runic inscriptions invisible to the mortal eye covered every inch of its surface.

Krasus channeled his magic into the device, causing the gemstones to begin glowing. A low hum resonated from the sphere until it suddenly soared upward and positioned itself in the center of the chamber. It then began to spin, its glow intensifying, before releasing a surge of arcane magic that rippled outward and etched various glyphs into the entire vessel. Krasus could recognize many of them as glyphs symbolizing teleportation, protection, and stabilization.

With the Genedar prepared for transport, Krasus once again cast the spell to contact Lord Malygos.

"Ah, Korialstrasz. It's good that you finally contacted me. I had begun to believe that you had fallen to the demons. I wasn't looking forward to watching Alexstrasza sulk after another of her consorts died.

Krasus ignored the Aspect's morbid words and quickly gave his report. "I apologize, Lord Malygos. The demons were stronger than expected. The Genedar has been prepared for transport and is ready to be brought to Azeroth whenever you desire."

"Good. The rest of the draenei are wandering around like lost whelps and I already grow tired of them. I am preparing the spell now. The information being given to me by the device tells me that the vessel is larger than expected, so this may take some time.


Without wasting another moment, Lord Malygos severed the mental link. Krasus wasn't too worried about how long the spell would take considering that Lord Malygos could transport the vessel at all.

"Prepare yourselves, everyone," Krasus said to the draenei. "The spell to bring the Genedar to Azeroth is underway."

The draenei gave a round of acknowledgments before huddling around Prophet Velen and the naaru. Krasus was unsurprised to notice that they seemed much less suspicious of Akama than they were before. After several minutes of waiting, the arcane glyphs along the Genedar began to glow with increased intensity and the ambient magic started to grow more turbulent.

As the spell reached its peak and was about to activate, Krasus was a tad startled to hear Prophet Velen chuckling softly.

"Does something amuse you, Prophet?" Krasus asked curiously, raising any eyebrow at Velen.

"Oh, I'm simply imagining how Kil'jaeden will react once he realizes what has happened," said Velen with a sad smile. "He must have believed that he finally managed to corner and be rid of us. He will be quite furious when he realizes otherwise."

Krasus wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but thankfully he didn't have to. A loud hum filled the chamber and quickly increased in volume, becoming almost unbearable as the glyphs began to grow even brighter. The Genedar itself seemed to vibrate until the entire vessel was suddenly bathed in a bright light that could be seen across the entire Nagrand plains.

When it finally dissipated, there was nothing left where the massive monolith had once stood aside from an equally massive crater.






"Explain it to me again, Sathrovarr."

Kil'jaeden's voice was deceptively calm as he spoke to the nathrezim he had assigned to carry out his will on Draenor. However, anyone who knew him would already be doing their best to flee his presence at the wrath smoldering in his eyes. His clawed, scarlet hands gripped his felsteel seat until cracks appeared and his two demonic wings quivered with barely restrained power.

The second most powerful demon in the Burning Legion was currently situated on his trans-dimensional ship, the Deceiver's Throne, flying high above Draenor on the border of the Twisting Nether and the physical plane. Kil'jaeden stared balefully down at the primitive world and imagined how it would appear wreathed in Fel fire.

"Yes, my Lord," said Sathrovarr, his voice deferential as it transmitted through the scrying spell. "At your command, I sent some of the lesser demons to investigate the magical disturbances that took place first within the marshes near the Zangar Sea and then near the draenei's broken dimensional ship. Those investigations have revealed that a portion of the draenei likely survived the culling of Shattrath, and that their ship is no longer where it once was. We were also able to detect significant quantities of spatial magic near these locations."

Kil'jaeden was silent as the nathrezim continued to give their report, his fury only growing with each passing moment. Despite this, his mind was clear as it ran through countless possibilities to explain how this had happened.

The demons he had assigned to guard the dimensional ship had all died and their souls were currently in the process of reforming in the Twisting Nether. Kil'jaeden looked forward to when they did so that he could acquire a firsthand account of what had happened… and let his displeasure at their failure be known.

But until then, he was forced to use the evidence available to him.

"You say there are signs of a draenei camp near the first disturbance," said Kil'jaeden, interrupting the nathrezim. "How many of the draenei do you believe survived?"

Sathrovarr hesitated for several moments before responding. "It is difficult to say, but I would estimate from the size of their camps that they have no more than a tenth of their previous population, my Lord."

The news should have eased some of the fury Kil'jaeden felt, but it did not. There had been occasions throughout the millennia when he had done grievous harm to the draenei, only for them to rebuild. Magic and technology could accomplish much, especially when one was desperate.

He had decided to act subtly upon finding the draenei on this primitive world instead of conquering it as he usually did in hopes to end the traitors before they could escape, but he had failed again.

"Continue your report," Kil'jaeden said evenly.

Once the nathrezim was finished sharing everything he knew for the fourth time, Kil'jaeden ended the communication spell and ordered the demon controlling his ship to return them to the Twisting Nether. Within moments, Kil'jaeden had left the physical realm and was once again within the endless void as time, space, and reality twisted around him.

Kil'jaeden considered what he learned, his mind working at a furious pace. The demon lord ran through countless scenarios, extrapolating possibilities and probabilities from the scant information he possessed. Yet, no matter how he looked at it, one thing remained a stark, infuriating reality.

Velen had escaped. Again.

The boiling fury that Kil'jaeden felt at this fact was enough to send tremors throughout the Twisting Nether. Any lesser demon unfortunate enough to be sensed by Kil'jaeden as he unleashed his wrath was instantly obliterated and met their final death. Even the more powerful demons stayed well away, not daring to risk attracting his attention.

Eventually, Kil'jaeden calmed down enough to begin considering his options. Out of all the possibilities, the most likely one was that draenei were now on Azeroth, something he had gone to great lengths to prevent. The Dark Portal had only been opened after the last of the draenei in Shattrath had been slaughtered and the Horde had taken full control of Draenor.

He had been disappointed when his demons failed to find Velen's corpse, but such an outcome was expected when significant amounts of fel fire was used in a siege.

Kil'jaeden had even assigned several demons to hunt down the scant few survivors there might be. The thought reminded him that he should seek the personal accounts of these demons and administer appropriate punishment for their failure when he had the time.

Kil'jaeden had far fewer demons on Azeroth than Draenor, but he had no doubt they would report a disturbance in the planet's leylines at a similar time to when the draenei disappeared. Azeroth was a world with infuriatingly powerful inhabitants, several of whom would be more than capable of such magic.

Aegwynn, Azshara, and Malygos could all have exploited the connection offered by the Dark Portal to accomplish this, but Malygos was a more likely culprit than the others. The Titans' pet dragons had become vexingly active in Azeroth's affairs recently, disrupting many of Kil'jaeden's schemes.

The Horde had achieved less than he had anticipated, one of the Keepers was interacting with the mortal races, and Azeroth in general seemed to be growing more capable of defending themselves against an invasion. The Legion had learned from their failure during the War of the Ancients, and knew that Azeroth first needed to be weakened before an attack could be successful. Yet with the Horde's failure and with Velen and the traitors who followed him now on Azeroth, any future invasion would become that much more difficult.

This cannot be allowed to continue, Kil'jaeden thought to himself. Sargeras will not be pleased once he learns of this…

In a single moment, Kil'jaeden traveled through the Twisting Nether and appeared within his palace on Argus. He swept through the palace with swift, purposeful strides, his feet leaving a trail of Fel fire in his wake. He ignored the lesser demons assigned to maintaining the structure and made his way to the deeper levels of the place, where none but his highest ranking subordinates were permitted to enter.

It wasn't long before Kil'jaeden began to hear the pleasant sounds of screams as the Sayaad and jailers tortured those demons unfortunate enough to earn the worst of his ire. The individual who he intended to visit now was perhaps the most unfortunate of those souls.

When he finally reached the lowest portion of his palace, Kil'jaeden reached a room in which five dreadlords were taking turns torturing a disembodied spirit. The spirit could not scream as Kil'jaeden had already taken away its corporeal body in preparation for his plans, but its torment echoed sweetly through the Twisting Nether.

"My lord, we were not expecting you," said Tichondrius, leader of the nathrezim. The demon's expression was calm in spite of Kil'jaeden's sudden appearance.

"I have need of this one," said Kil'jaeden, gesturing toward the spirit. "The situation on Azeroth has deteriorated and we can no longer afford to allow our enemies to continue consolidating their power. Is he ready to be bound to the artifacts?"

"Of course, my Lord," Tichondrius said immediately. "He has been ready for some time. We were merely… amusing ourselves while we still had the opportunity."

"Well the time has now come," said Kil'jaeden, reaching into the Twisting Nether and retrieving two of the most powerful artifacts in his possession.

Frostmourne and the Helm of Domination instantly suffused the room with potent Death magic, their auras oppressive even by Kil'jaeden's standards. He had been in possession of them for quite some time, but had been hesitant to use them due to their unclear origins. One of his subordinates had simply found them on a recently conquered world, and no amount of effort was enough to definitively reveal their source.

However, now was no longer the time for caution. Azeroth needed to be weakened now, and these artifacts were the perfect method for doing so.

Kil'jaeden reached out and grasped the spirit, still writhing and moaning from the torment being inflicted upon it. He forced the spirit into the endless abyss that was the Helm of Domination, slowly transforming it into an entity far greater than it ever was in life. The spirit thrashed and shrieked, but it was helpless against Kil'jaeden's overwhelming might.

Once he was done with the spirit, Kil'jaeden held the Helm of Domination aloft, watching as the eyes of the helm began to glow with a harsh, cold light. "Arise, Gul'dan. Your second life begins today. You will be my hand, my will on Azeroth. You will bring ruin and despair to the denizens of that world, and in doing so, prepare it for the coming of the Burning Legion!"

Even though the Lich King was far more powerful in its current form, the former orc warlock cringed back in fear from Kil'jaeden. He had thoroughly enjoyed the look on Gul'dan's face when the orc realized his soul had been suffused with enough Fel magic for him to be reborn in the Twisting Nether. He was not nearly so brave in his defiance once Kil'jaeden got his claws into him.

It would have been a kinder fate if the Aspect of Magic had torn Gul'dan's soul to pieces, but Malygos had either not been feeling kind or didn't think it worth the effort. Gul'dan had been a fairly powerful warlock, so destroying his soul would have taken some careful preparation.

With Gul'dan attached to the Helm of Domination, Kil'jaeden quickly repeated the process with Frostmourne and a recently forged suit of armor made specifically for this purpose. The artifacts reverberated with raw power and Kil'jaeden could feel the spirit within the helm begin to stir. It was even more powerful than he had anticipated.

"Excellent," said Kil'jaeden with a sinister grin. "Now, I believe it is time for you to make your entrance, my Lich King."

"My lord, have you decided where on Azeroth you intend to send us?" asked Mal'Ganis, another of the nathrezim present. "As you know, Northrend is no longer a suitable location for us to gather power."

Kil'jaeden had discussed his plans for the Lich King extensively with the nathrezim, as he intended to send them to Azeroth with it. The Helm of Domination offered a rare opportunity for Kil'jaeden to send several strong demons past the unique defenses that the Titans left behind around Azeroth. The helm would vastly expand the mind of the Lich King and offer it extremely powerful sensory abilities. Coupled with the fact that Gul'dan had already once been to Azeroth, the Lich King would have no trouble precisely navigating the Twisting Nether to its destination.

"Yes, I have chosen an appropriate location," said Kil'jaeden. There had been fewer options than he would have preferred. The Lich King needed time away from Azeroth's powerful defenders as well as plenty of mortals to raise into undeath if it was to become a significant enough threat to weaken the world.

Thankfully, he had scryed and schemed until he settled on a location that he believed would be even superior to Icecrown.

Kil'jaeden explained to the nathrezim where he would be sending them and his reasons for doing so, each one smiling and chuckling at their lord's genius. When he was done, Kil'jaeden cast a spell that encased the Lich King in a block of indestructible ice that would prevent it from escaping. The nathrezim would serve as its jailors, ensuring the Lich King continued to follow Kil'jaeden's will.

One by one, the nathrezim merged themselves into the icy construct, their corporeal forms fading until all that was left were ghostly specters imbued within the magical ice. When the final nathrezim, Balnazzar, had joined his brothers, Kil'jaeden walked forward and placed his hand on the frozen block. He reached into the Helm of Domination, communing with the Lich King one final time.

"You understand your purpose. Make Azeroth bleed. Turn their dead against them. Sow terror, pain, and despair. By the time they realize what has happened, it will be too late." Kil'jaeden's words were both a command, and a promise of what was to come if Gul'dan failed. "Now, go!"

With a swift motion, Kil'jaeden cast a spell that sent the Lich King hurtling through the Twisting Nether towards an unsuspecting Azeroth.




Author's Note: Last opportunity to speculate on where the Lich King will arrive.

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Isolated from the big powers but populated enough to make an army... Could be central Kalimdor, to take advantage of the mess with the Centaurs, Tauren and everyone else down there while the Night Elves would continue with their isolationism, but my first instinct was to say Pandaria.
 
Isolated from the big powers but populated enough to make an army... Could be central Kalimdor, to take advantage of the mess with the Centaurs, Tauren and everyone else down there while the Night Elves would continue with their isolationism, but my first instinct was to say Pandaria.
Same, I'm split on either Kun-Lai Summit or Desolace. The first would give them a closed ecosystem in which to spread and subvert without the rest of Azeroth being able to interfere. The later is a blighted area FULL of corpses which is in a political hot spot. It'll be interesting to keep brainstorming on possible outcomes.
 
Isolated from the big powers but populated enough to make an army... Could be central Kalimdor, to take advantage of the mess with the Centaurs, Tauren and everyone else down there while the Night Elves would continue with their isolationism, but my first instinct was to say Pandaria.
Except that Pandaria is sealed by the mists. If even the Aspect of Magic can't get through, then I imagine that the Burning Legion couldn't send a target through. Maybe one of the top-level demons could force-summon themselves, but I don't think they could SEND someone. Desolace sounds probable, given the target-rich and corpse-rich environment.
 
It's a fine idea for its own fic, but why not have red dragonsworn become biomancers? They could improve all allied Azeroth's races, not just make transhumans.
There's not much to improve on giant spiders and they already have queens.
 
Pandaria has a Titan facility fucking up things, so I doubt the Lich King can be sent there.

Desolas is a fair suggestion, but it's too open, and too close, it would be easy to notice the works of the undead with such a low amount of local mana to mask the death magic and then the aspects would easily find the Lich King and kill it.

South Kalimdor gives the Lich King all he needs to replace the assets that will be missed from Northrend. The Nerubians, the Dragons and the exotic yet limited wildlife? All of those have replacements in south Kalimdor in the form of Dinosaurs, Alquir, Centaurs, Trolls and Elves.

Ultimately I think southern Kalimdor will replace northrend as the seat of the Lich King and Central Kalimdor will replace the Eastern kingdoms as the "second stage" of the Lich King plan.
 
Chapter 66.5
Vizier Gurtis could hear the thud of the artillery shells on the hill nearby as she made her way to the Azjol-Nerub Arsenal entrance. Elder Nadox had requested a thorough update on the production of guns and gunpowder after a recent council meeting. She also intended to observe some of the warriors practicing with the new weapons for her final report.

As she entered into the newly constructed facility, Vizier Gurtis replaced her headdress with a steel helmet and strapped on the padded silk armor. After hearing about some serious fatal accidents in the Eastern Kingdom, the Viziers in the newly formed Explosives Research Division were determined to minimize any dangers. Every nerubian working in the arsenals was required to wear protection. The gunpowder mills were housed in warehouses with thick walls and thin roofs to direct any explosions upwards away from the workers in the facility.

"Welcome, I am Vizier Zaltol, in charge of the gunpowder manufacturing," said a tall nerubian with a purple carapace as he pointed to the barrels and crates. "Our Black Water Reprocessing facilities send us the water saline solution containing saltpeter in barrels. The sulfur and charcoal crates are brought in from the mines and foundries of Azjol-Nerub."

Vizier Zaltol led her to one of the grinding mills in a different part of the facility.

"Here we grind the charcoal and the sulfur into a fine powder and then mix them together in equal proportions," Vizier Zaltol stated. "Both powders are flammable but not all that explosive. Our workers spray down the powders in the mixing basin with water to help keep them cool."

Vizier Gurtis asked, "How do you power the grinder and the mixer? I can see that you are using pulleys to turn the heavy grindstone and mixer propellers."

Vizier Zaltol pointed to the capstan connected to the ropes going through the pulleys and answered, "The capstan is turned by an underground river below us. Some of the other gunpowder factories use windmills to power the operation as they do not have access to flowing water."

Leading her behind a thick wall divider, Vizier Zaltol carefully pointed to trays full of water with a thin layer of white crystals on them. "This is the most dangerous part of the operation. The saltpeter is highly explosive. We prefer to evaporate most of the saline solution containing saltpeter here before mixing it with the charcoal and sulfur powder."

Vizier Gurtis looked in fascination at the mixer next to the trays, "I see that you mix the saltpeter solution with the charcoal and sulfur to make this paste mixture here. What are the proportions that you use?"

"Viziers in the Technology Research Division have worked out the safe but effective mixture of gunpowder is three parts of saltpeter to one part of the combined sulfur and charcoal powder," Vizier Zaltol answered with a pleased expression. "We discovered that the mixture used by the Eastern Kingdoms contains too much charcoal."

Vizier Gurtis made a few notes for her report and then walked past another thick dividing wall. This room contained a metal wheel with teeth that cut through the gunpowder paste. The room was bare with no silk matting on the stone floor. Vizier Zaltol asked her to put on a bracelet connected by a loose chain to the metal pole in the edge of the room. He put on another similar bracelet before beginning his explanation.

"In order to reduce the chance of sparks, all personnel must ground themselves while working in this room," Vizier Zaltol informed her. "The metal wheel with teeth converts the paste into small gunpowder balls of around an eighth of an inch diameter. Before they are packaged, the small gunpowder kernels are coated with graphite to waterproof the final product."

Adding a few more notes on the operation, Vizier Gurtis made her way back to the open area of the warehouse.

"Where is the gun factory?" Vizier Gurtis asked politely as she removed the protective gear and put her headdress back on.

Vizier Zaltol pointed to a hatch near the back of the warehouse and said, "The gun factory is underground. There is a metal chute under the hatch to transport the processed gunpowder into the factory. The main entrance is just outside the warehouse. Vizier Nejar is in charge of the operations there."

Vizier Gurtis nodded as she walked out the warehouse back into the cold Northrend air. The entrance to the underground gun factory was guarded by two nerubian warriors with spears. At her approach, they examined the credentials she had been given by Elder Nadox and opened the heavy steel doors to the cavern.

There was a deafening sound of rhythmic metal striking on metal all around her as she was greeted by Vizier Nejar.

"My apologies for the noise," Vizier Nejar shouted over the sound of the factory and pointing to the room with wide glass windows overlooking the factory floor. "We should go to the office, as it will be easier for us to speak clearly there."

When Vizier Gurtis and Vizier Nejar arrived in the office and shut the door, the sounds of the foundry were finally muted enough to hold a conversation.

Vizier Nejar pointed out the window to the foundries and said, "We are producing three types of gunpowder weapons for mass production for the regiments of Azjol-Nerub. The rifle, cannon, and mortar designs are all based on the sample gunpowder weapons found in Lordaeron."

Vizier Gurtis nodded and pointed to a quieter portion of the facility separated from the foundries by thick walls and asked, "What goes on in that section of the facility?"

"We produce the bullets and shells for the guns and artillery in that section," Vizier Nejar stated. "We create a waterproof silk packet with standardized gunpowder amounts and a metal bullet or shell. This innovation has improved the rate of fire by reducing the steps needed to reload the weapons."

"Would it be possible to examine the weapons?" Vizier Gurtis asked. "I noted that there is a gun and artillery range as a part of this facility."

Vizier Nejar nodded and led Vizier Gurtis over to a door that led back up to the surface. They made their way back to the surface where squads of nerubian warriors were training with rifles and artillery.

"As a Vizier, I can provide the rationale for any technical aspects to the design," Vizier Nejar said, while beckoning to a powerful nerubian warrior observing the squads with discerning eyes. "However, Warrior Yulox would be better equipped to explain the more practical aspects of using these weapons."

Warrior Yulox came over with the standard nerubian rifle and bandolier with bullet cartridges. After introductions, Vizier Nejar and Warrior Yulox started by showing off the rifle and pointing out all the features.

"The rifle is five feet long with a rifled bore of about five eighths of an inch," Vizier Nejar explained. "As you notice, the nerubian standard rifle is completely made of a special steel alloy to prevent corrosion. Our initial designs had wooden stocks like the guns of the Eastern Kingdoms. However, our experiments showed that the wood warped due to temperature changes and humidity."

Warrior Yulox took out a silk bullet cartridge from the bandolier and said, "This is a standard bullet with a conical tip and gunpowder charge. As you can see, the bullet cartridge is of a significantly higher caliber than the ones used by the humans."

Warrior Yulox pulled back the firing pin and then released the hinged barrel to reveal the tray for the bullet cartridge.

"I place the bullet cartridge in the tray, close the hinged barrel, push in the firing pin to break open the gunpowder charge, and cock back the spark wheel," Warrior Yulox said, while demonstrating his actions. "After that, the rifle is ready to be fired."

"How many rounds can you fire in a minute?" Vizier Gurtis asked curiously as Warrior Yulox took aim at the target some two hundred yards away.

"Approximately ten rounds per minute," Warrior Yulox answered as he fired the rifle striking the target. "However, each bandolier contains sixty cartridges or enough ammunition for only ten minutes. So, nerubian rifle squads are trained to fire five rounds before maneuvering to a new firing location or charging the opponent with their bayonets."

"Can the bullets penetrate through armor?" Vizier Gurtis asked. "According to the records from the war, human riflemen had difficulty piercing the scales of the undead dragons."

Warrior Yulox pointed at the target markers and said, "In my experience, I can consistently penetrate half an inch of steel from a hundred yards. Performance is comparable to a well enchanted crossbow, but having so many warriors equipped with these weapons gives us many more options to use against the enemies of Azjol-Nerub."

Vizier Nejar pointed to a squad of nerubians hauling multiple carriages and said, "I think the cannon and mortar teams are about to start their tests."

Vizier Gurtis observed as several three-nerubian teams made their way over to the range. One nerubian was towing a cannon or mortar, while another nerubian was towing a small wooden cart. The third nerubian in the team was carrying a telescope and several maps.

"The cannon and the mortars both fire five inch shells," Vizier Nejar commented as the nerubian artillery squad anchored the cannons and mortars to the ground and prepared to fire the first shot. "We tried to copy over the breech loading design used in the rifles to our artillery, but the hinge system was not strong enough and some nerubian warriors lost limbs."

"What is the difference between a mortar and a cannon?" Vizier Gurtis asked, as she warily watched the cannon team prepare to load the ammunition from the wooden cart into the cannon. "Both of the artillery have the same diameter and have similar lengths of around eight feet."

"The cannon fires solid projectiles over a long distance," Warrior Yulox answered, as the nerubian with the telescope adjusted the angle of the gun after consulting the map. "The mortar fires gunpowder filled bombs in a high arcing trajectory over a shorter distance. So the cannons are more useful on ships and in the battlefield. The mortars are more useful in dealing with stationary fortified targets."

Everyone hunkered down as the nerubian cannon team pulled on the firing cord attached to the end of the cannon. There was a flash followed by billowing smoke. In the distance, Vizier Gurtis watched the cannonball create a divot on the hill.

While they all waited for the smoke to clear, the mortar team started their preparation to fire their weapon.

"The mortar shells have a special time fuse that is armed before firing," Warrior Yulox explained as the mortar captain carefully adjusted a wooden plug sticking out from the mortar shell. "The captain has to be skilled at estimating how much time it takes for the mortar shell to hit the ground."

Everyone braced as the firing cord of the mortar was pulled and the entire range was filled with another flash of light and thick smoke. A few moments later a thud reverberated through from the hill as the mortar shell exploded just before it struck the hill.

"Thank you for the demonstration," Vizier Gurtis said, trying not to cough from all the smoke in the air. "Before I leave to finish my report for Elder Nadox, I must inform you that you will soon receive two new design requests. Firstly, you will need to develop and test a bomb that can be carried, armed, and dropped by a nerubian flier. Secondly, you will be requested to determine the cannon and mortar placements for Project Sanctum."

Vizier Gurtis made a mental note to suggest masks for all the nerubian artillery crews as the smoke finally started to clear.



Anub'rekhan made his way onto the podium and looked out onto the fifty nerubian postulants to the Guardians of Nerub. They were all clad in the purple and gold web emblem and waiting patiently. The High King had agreed that the Guardians of Nerub would only recruit from nerubians who had already served the kingdom for four years. Young hatchlings needed to develop some experience dealing with ordinary citizens before learning to wield the Light. Nerubians uncomfortable with commanding large numbers of soldiers or interacting with multiple patients would not be suitable paladins.

Placing his massive scythe-like claws on either side of the podium, he felt his body start to glow with the Light as he began his speech.

"New postulants of the Guardians of Nerub. Azjol-Nerub faces a period of change greater than any in living memory Our kingdom now includes exclaves on new continents. Our kingdom has new allies and must face new enemies. Our kingdom must study and incorporate new schools of magic and technology. It is in this time of change, that we embrace the philosophy of the Light and rededicate ourselves to our people."

Anub'rekhan continued to scan his gaze over the gathered nerubians, all relative newcomers to the Light.

"A few of you have served Azjol-Nerub as Spiderlords, Queens, Viziers, although most of you have served our people as Warriors. I ask that you now continue that glorious service with me as a Guardian of Nerub and adhere to the four tenets of our organization.

We exist only to serve Azjol-Nerub.

We will not be found wanting in any of our tasks.

We will aid any nerubian who comes to us for help.

We will guard our people from the enemies of Azjol-Nerub without fear.

Your strength of conviction in these tenets will allow you to channel the Light to aid you in your tasks. Now go forth and practice these principles from this day onwards."

Anub'rekhan was proud to see the four other Guardians of Nerub glowing with the Light in response to his speech. The new postulants looked determined and inspired as they broke out into groups and were led to the training chambers by their teachers and captains.

Every Guardian of Nerub, including him, was responsible for at least ten postulants who would train for two years to channel and use the Light. Afterwards, the newly graduated aspirants would apply their knowledge under supervision in missions assigned by the council. After another two years as aspirants, the members of the Guardians of Nerub would finally become paladins.

Anub'rekhan led his postulants into his personal training chamber to inform them of their training schedule for the next two years. The training chamber contained a wide practice ring with several heavy enchanted silk sandbags in the corner. In the back, there were several sets of wooden racks to hold his armor and blunt training weapons. The walls were covered by the pennants of Guardians of Nerub showing the gold web on purple.

Turning to face the eager postulants, Anub'rekhan started, "Today, I will demonstrate the three most common abilities used by paladins of our order. You will be expected to practice these abilities once you can consistently channel the Light."

While some skitterers dragged over a silk sandbag into the center of the ring, Anub'rekhan continued, "I will start by demonstrating an unaugmented attack utilizing my full strength."

Anub'rekhan braced himself and charged the sandbag with his full strength. Its powerful enchantments activated and redirected the majority of the force that he could bring to bear, causing it to only move a few feet.

"It is clear that even the strength of a powerful Spiderlord is insufficient to overpower these magical defenses," Anub'rekhan said, as the skitterers reset the silk sandbag into the center of the ring. "Now I will strike the sandbag with a Light infused horn attack."

He walked over into the ring and started to channel the light about his horn. With a very short dash he charged into the heavy sandbag striking it with his glowing horn. The enchantments protecting the sandbag activated before the sandbag was flung cleanly out of the ring.

"As you can see, Light infused attacks are extremely powerful," Anub'rekhan said as he looked at the awed postulants. "The attacks also have the additional property of severely damaging any opponent using void magic. This is the most basic form of attack that you will need to learn in the training rings."

Anub'rekhan pointed to the back of the wall and commanded, "Postulant Mavir, start sprinting back and forth along the wall. I will channel the Light to inspire and strengthen everyone around me."

As Postulant Mavir started to sprint back and forth, Anub'rekhan focused on his sense of service to the kingdom and felt his body start to glow with the Light. Postulant Mavir began sprinting at a faster pace and with a more determined expression as the waves of Light emanating from Anub'rekhan reached her.

"Come back over here, postulant, and explain what you experienced when the waves of Light reached you," Anub'rekhan commanded.

"My stamina improved remarkably when the waves of Light reached me," Postulant Mavir answered. "I also felt my muscles become stronger and my mind more focused on my actions."

Anub'rekhan nodded and addressed the postulants, "This ability is particularly useful, when you are commanding nerubian warriors. As part of your training, you will visit the nerubian warrior training facility and channel the Light to inspire the warriors training there."

Beckoning to the postulants, Anub'rekhan started to lead them out of his training chamber and the halls of Guardians of Nerub to a nerubian hospital. Here soldiers injured in training and during patrols, workers injured due to accidents, and generally sick nerubians were waiting in orderly rows. Nerubian medical professionals walked between the rows taking notes on the type of injury or illness and the seriousness of the issue.

Anub'rekhan led the postulants into a chamber with the emblem of the Guardians of Nerub on the door. Once all the postulants assembled into the back of the chamber, he beckoned to the medical nurse outside for his first patient to be brought into the chamber.

"The most useful ability involving the Light is in healing people," Anub'rekhan explained as he examined the crack on the nerubian warrior's carapace. "As a Guardian of Nerub, you will learn how to heal any damage to the carapace or cure a non-magical illness."

He placed the tip of his claw over the crack and channeled the Light into the injured warrior. The cracked carapace started to mend and fuse back together. After a few moments, the warrior was fully healed and discharged back to his duties.

"In the hands of an experienced paladin, some patients can be brought back from the brink of death," Anub'rekhan said as the next patient was brought into the chamber. "As a part of your training, you will regularly work as a healer in the hospital."

Channeling the Light again to cure the sick nerubian weaver of a mild fever and wrapping a glowing silk bandage about a blister on the face of his patient, he continued, "Some members of our organization are studying the use of Light infused silk as bandages. Once you become an aspirant, you may choose to participate in the research study."

Anub'rekhan observed the determined expressions among his postulants with pride. In another two years, the Guardians of Nerub would be ready to face the prophesied necromancer.





Warrior Vohed focused on the artifact and chittered softly to guide the large spider into the prepared guard post. Hadronox slowly made her way around the chamber testing the silk tripwires with her powerful legs, while the rest of his squad inspected the barrels full of food and water for Hadronox. They started to fill a heated basin with an insect, seafood, and water soup.

According to the nerubian queens, Hadronox was still not at her full size. She needed to eat specially prepared food regularly to keep growing in size. Focusing on the artifact, Warrior Vohed changed the pitch of his chitters to guide Hadronox to the basin.

Warrior Vohed inspected his squad while Hadronox ate her morning meal. All four members were experienced with handling jormungar. Warriors Sarzab and Niset also had some experience as field medics and would be in charge of monitoring Hadronox's health. Satisfied at the state of the armor and weapons, he turned his attention back to Hadronox.

Until Maexxna fully recovered from her battle with the C'thraxx, Hadronox was the primary defense against monstrous threats to the capital city of Azjol-Nerub. Guardians of Nerub and the Queens had carefully purified all of Maexxna's wounds of any void corruption before helping her to regrow her destroyed limbs. Warrior Vohed expected Maexxna to return to duty in another three months.

Once Hadronox had finished her morning meal, she settled down to spin a silk cocoon for her nest. In the meantime, Warriors Geshren and Su'zol commanded several skitterers to clean and wax Hadronox's carapace. Once she reached her full size, Hadronox would start to lay and incubate her eggs in the guard chamber. Over time, every nerubian city and enclave would contain at least an offspring of Hadronox for defense.

"How long do you think it would take for Hadronox to travel between the cities?" Warrior Sarzab asked. "I know that they have been widening out the corridors between the guard posts for each city."

"She is very fast," answered Warrior Vohed thoughtfully. "It might take her about an hour or two to reach the nearest city. We would have to ride on her abdomen to keep up with her."

"I know that the Viziers were able to widen the portal to Dalaran to get Maexxna through," Warrior Niset interjected. "I think all the portals will probably have to be widened to get Hadronox or her siblings through them when she reaches full size."

Warrior Su'zol asked, "Have you heard of any update on new procedures to heal Hadronox in the field? Last I heard, the council wanted to prevent another repeat of Maexxna's injury."

"A Guardian of Nerub will be assigned to our squad in about a year's time," Warrior Vohed answered. "Right now, there are not enough paladins in Azjol-Nerub proficient enough to heal a creature the size of Hadronox on the battlefield."

Feeling a wave of hunger from Hadronox through the artifact, he sighed as he signaled his squad to prepare her second meal. It had only been an hour since her last meal.



Masruk waited nervously outside Queen Nezar'Azret's chamber. Spiderlord Caet'zas had informed him that his morning training session was canceled as he had been identified as a candidate for Project Emberscales. Masruk had asked his Spiderlord supervisor for any information on the project, but he had been told that all information was classified.

Queen Nezar'Azret beckoned him inside and motioned for him to step into a ritual circle for a preliminary examination.

"Warrior Masruk, you have been identified as a potential candidate for the first member of a new caste," Queen Nezar'Azret said, studying the readings from several artifacts connected to the ritual circle. "Project Emberscales is one that aims to make use of the change in morphology experienced by Vizier Krivax due to a large infusion of draconic life energy."

Masruk felt a surge of pride in hearing about the achievements of his clutchmate. He wanted to match up to Vizier Krivax's incredible service to the kingdom.

"Our studies have determined that the technique used by nerubian warriors in using intuitive magic to strengthen certain muscles and body parts in combat can also be used to direct Life energy to certain organs," Queen Nezar'Azret continued, now focusing all her attention on Masruk. "You will need to stay still for the next test. I will partially immerse you in an alchemical solution to study certain anomalies."

Masruk tried to stay still as the cold alchemical liquid started to fill the ritual circle. He felt his limbs go numb as they were immersed in the yellow fluid and tried to suppress his instinctive fear of the unusual sensations.

After what seemed a long time, Queen Nezar'Azret finally started to drain the ritual circle. Masruk felt a tingling sensation as the feeling returned to his limbs. He started to walk short steps and move his arms.

"What are the anomalies detected?" Masruk asked the nerubian queen, who was busy leafing through reports.

"You were the nerubian responsible for the destruction of the dragon soul, yes?" Queen Nezar'Azret asked rhetorically as she grasped a document in her hands. "This surely explains why examinations note significant amounts of draconic energy in your body. Warrior Masruk, you are the perfect test subject for Project Emberscales."

Masruk gulped at the Queen's fanatical expression and meekly asked, "Have there been other test subjects? Can I perhaps see them?"

Queen Nezar'Azret pointed to several large jars in the corner containing some mutated skitterers immersed in preservative fluids. Masruk could see that one skitterer had a hybrid of draconic and insect wings. Another seemed to have large slits on the side of the head like a fish. Some of the other mutations like the extra eyes, multiple antennae, or large maws were horrifying.

"I have been testing various useful organs by modifying skitterers," Queen Nezar'Azret said with a pleased expression as she stared at the jars. "Don't worry. You are far too valuable of a test subject for me to waste. I will only begin working on you once I am certain of success. Once I am done, you will become far stronger than you could ever hope to be otherwise."

Although he was somewhat terrified of Queen Nezar'Azret's single minded focus, the thought of refusal never crossed Masruk's mind. If Project Emberscales was successful, then he could finally keep up with his friend Krivax and help him with his complicated plans in the service of Azjol-Nerub.




If you want to read ahead or support me, then feel free to check out my patreon

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Thanks for reading!
 
This feels like that period in civ when the bunch of cities you just captured finally start to be moderately productive, and your science production spikes drastically.

Guns and Artillery - 1 turn
Holy Light - 2 turns
Weird Dragon Mutation Shit - 2 turns
 
The Nerubians make for GREAT scientists. Their practical minded nature just makes it so they are so much less likely to have "accidents" during innovations. They started grounding themselves in the powder rooms, and ditched the breech loading mortars after what? A few months? Compared to irl where that took centuries for the former, and a decade for the later. I also liked how they found a better powder formula than what they were given. It shows that not only are they catching up, but they're improving on what they were given/sold.

The rifle, cannon, and mortar designs are all based on the sample gunpowder weapons found in Lordaeron."
Firstly, you will need to develop and test a bomb that can be carried, armed, and dropped by a nerubian flier. Secondly, you will be requested to determine the cannon and mortar placements for Project Sanctum."
This makes me wonder... Maybe they'll develop a shotgun? Those things were terrors in trench warfare, so I'd imagine they'd be just as effective in tunnel fighting. They'd certainly be more effective than rifles in close, twisty tunnels at any rate.

"Now I will strike the sandbag with a Light infused horn attack."
I'm now imagining a white and gold heracross...

Although he was somewhat terrified of Queen Nezar'Azret's single minded focus, the thought of refusal never crossed Masruk's mind. If Project Emberscales was successful, then he could finally keep up with his friend Krivax and help him with his complicated plans in the service of Azjol-Nerub.
And Masruk has been singled out for GAINS! I knew him being the one to deliver the Dragon Soul would put a mark on his record. It's good to hear that they are planning on turning him into draconid-arachnid. :D
 
This makes me wonder... Maybe they'll develop a shotgun? Those things were terrors in trench warfare, so I'd imagine they'd be just as effective in tunnel fighting. They'd certainly be more effective than rifles in close, twisty tunnels at any rate.
You would think spiders would have a proclivity for traps, perhaps mines or something like a claymore or grenade? They can already make the tripwire.
 
Maybe they'll develop a shotgun? Those things were terrors in trench warfare, so I'd imagine they'd be just as effective in tunnel fighting. They'd certainly be more effective than rifles in close, twisty tunnels at any rate.
Perhaps more importantly, they would be good at shredding the target, not just popping vitals. Which is what you want for fighting undead.
 
Wind is unreliable but if they place windmills in tunnels with constant draft...
Again, why doesn't Krivax give them weapon ideas? It's a big help to scientific research to know what the end result looks like, he doesn't have be one of those wiki in their head MC's for that.
 
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Wind is unreliable but if they place windmills in tunnels with constant draft...
Again, why doesn't Krivax give them weapon ideas? It's a big help to scientific research to know what the end result looks like, he doesn't have be one of those wiki in their head MC's for that.
This world isn't bound to just physics. It's all magictech all the way down. All common weapon designs are things that are already in circulation or known by the dwarf or gnome kingdoms.
 
This world isn't bound to just physics. It's all magictech all the way down. All common weapon designs are things that are already in circulation or known by the dwarf or gnome kingdoms.
Don't dwaves still use muskets and Gnomes dislike making weapons so until they got invaded, they barely did?

Why not suggest rocket launcher, gatling gun, grenades, napalm, armor piercing, explosive and shrapnel ammunition. They have lightning arcane and gnome magitech so rail guns shouldn't be hard.
 
Why not suggest rocket launcher, gatling gun, grenades, napalm, armor piercing, explosive and shrapnel ammunition
with what and how? Why blind your research department to purely physical limitations when we already know magitech is a thing?

What the spider kingdom needs isn't more pie in the sky ideas but the groundwork to test out what's already been popularized and see what they can coopt to speed up their base of knowledge.
 
with what and how? Why blind your research department to purely physical limitations when we already know magitech is a thing?

What the spider kingdom needs isn't more pie in the sky ideas but the groundwork to test out what's already been popularized and see what they can coopt to speed up their base of knowledge.
With the largest Azeroth's empire resources over a few years, not instantly...
What magitech and with what? Magical resources and mages are limited, magical weapons are mostly mundane weapons with magic on top. AFAIK only Gnomes have magitech and some of it isn't reliable.
Fire arms on the other hand can be mass produced and first generation of any variety isn't that difficult to invent.
 
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first generation of any variety isn't that difficult to invent
LOL that's a hilarious joke. Technically true, but hilarious. And my read of the chapter is they are making wheel locks
push in the firing pin to break open the gunpowder charge, and cock back the spark wheel,"
which are way beyond first generation.

And again, what they need most is a base of knowledge to understand this branch of tech that was unknown to them until recently.
 
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Chapter 67
After getting writers block for Sect's Elder, I started writing a Litrpg that I posted recently on Spacebattles. Here's the link if you're interested in checking it out. I intend to post it on Royalroad once I get enough chapters.



Tichondrius carefully studied the newly created Lich King as he and his compatriots hurtled through the Twisting Nether from inside the block of ice.

He could tell that Gul'dan was faithfully guiding them through the endless void toward a specific direction, occasionally making seemingly random changes to their trajectory that nobody could hope to follow. Even if a trans-dimensional ship had attempted to follow them, the ever-changing nature of the Twisting Nether would have already thrown them off.

It was a marvel that Gul'dan could so clearly sense Azeroth through this realm, and Tichondrius couldn't help but peer closer at the Lich King as he wondered just how strong his senses had become. The spirit still cringed back from his presence in remembrance of the torture he had endured, but Tichondrius was under no illusions that the Lich King's meekness would last forever. Once he fully realized the degree of power he had achieved, the Lich King would doubtlessly begin reasserting himself.

Oh, and what tremendous power it is…

Kil'jaeden had truly chosen well when he decided to infuse the soul of Gul'dan into the Helm of Domination. Tichondrius knew that Kil'jaeden had also been considering a powerful orc shaman by the name of Ner'zhul, who would have admittedly also been a good candidate. While Ner'zhul was a capable planner and had been in possession of powerful precognition that would have been heavily enhanced by the Helm of Domination, Gul'dan was far better for Tichondrius' plans.

As the Lich King, Gul'dan would be far more brutally powerful and also far more vulnerable to manipulation. With his assistance, Tichondrius' mission to spread Death across Azeroth would be far easier

"A beautiful work of art, isn't he?" Mal'Ganis' voice echoed through the telepathic link connecting the nathrezim. "We've truly outdone ourselves in his creation, haven't we?"

"The Lich King is a weapon fit to challenge even Azeroth,"
Tichondrius quickly agreed. He had seen and helped conquer many worlds, but the War of the Ancients had made it clear that Azeroth was fundamentally different. "Although he will still need some time to accumulate his forces, before we can safely challenge that world's many powerful guardians."

"I agree. That tiresome world has suspiciously grown more well-defended at the exact time that we wish to attack,"
Mal'Ganis' voice was neutral, but Tichondrius could sense a hint of frustration through their link. "It makes one wonder if it is truly a coincidence."

The ongoing affairs of Azeroth were a topic of significant discussion among the nathrezim as nothing had gone as planned. It had not gone unnoticed amongst the Legion that the Aspects had become uncommonly active in recent times, almost as if they knew of the activities of the Burning Legion. Still, their information network on Azeroth was not good enough to learn much more than that.

They had successfully sent several infiltrators through the Dark Portal when it first opened, but the Aspect of Magic had since established defenses and wards that would notice all but the most subtle of demons.

"Further speculation is useless before we are able to gather more information," said Tichondrius, ending that line of conversation. "It is impossible to know whether these new developments are the actions of Nozdormu or some other force."

It would be unlike the Aspect of Time to so actively intervene in the timeline, but the possibility was one worth considering.

"Your time would be better spent preparing for our initial landing," Tichondrius continued before Mal'Ganis could reply. "Unlike our initial expectations, we will be arriving on Azeroth in the middle of enemy territory. It is essential that we quickly secure a foothold before any powerful force makes note of our arrival."

Tichondrius could clearly sense Mal'Ganis' bloodlust through their link at the reminder of their coming battle. Although he could scheme and strategize as well as any nathrezim, Mal'Ganis had always preferred the simplicity of a straightforward slaughter.

"Indeed, I look forward to it," Mal'Ganis responded before reining himself in. "What do you intend to do with the three brothers?"

Tichondrius turned his attention to the three remaining nathrezim, Varimathras, Balnazzar, and Detheroc. The siblings had established their own mental connection and had been in constant communication throughout their entire journey. Although the nathrezim all ultimately served the same master, it was impossible for a race as inherently deceptive as their own to not have conflicts.

As the most powerful of the nathrezim, Tichondrius was accustomed to guarding himself against those coveting his position.

"I intend to send them across Azeroth to gather information on our enemies in preparation for future plans," Tichondrius responded truthfully after a moment of consideration. "Once we have secured our stronghold and begun building our army, we will need to ensure our enemies are too distracted to focus on us."

Azjol-Nerub in particular had been identified as a troublesome variable. Tichondrius had only encountered a few other similar civilizations during his time with the Burning Legion, but they were always troublesome. Such an exceedingly collectivist race would be difficult to manipulate, and they would fanatically seek to destroy any threats to their people.

It would have been preferable if they could destroy Azjol-Nerub first and add them to the Lich King's forces without any outside forces intervening, but that was no longer possible.

Fortunately, Kil'jaeden was far from a fool despite the erratic decisions he made whenever the draenei were involved and his new plan for the Lich King was truly quite cunning.

Just as Tichondrius and Mal'Ganis were about to continue their conversation, they were interrupted by the feeling of Varimathras seeking entry into their mental link.

"What is it?" Tichondrius asked once his fellow nathrezim was allowed access.

"My apologies for the interruption, but I thought that you might like to know that we have almost reached our destination," Varimathras replied.

Tichondrius was not surprised that Varimathras would be the first to notice, as his aptitude in using Fel magic for scrying and divination afforded him better senses than most. Turning his focus to the Twisting Nether, Tichondrius quickly confirmed the truth of the claim when he felt the chaotic nature of the realm slowly begin to change to something more orderly. That was a sure sign that they were about to enter the physical realm.

"Very well then. Varimathras, you and your brothers are to begin casting spells to protect us from detection," Tichondrius ordered, a sense of urgency filling him as they approached the only world that had ever defeated a Legion invasion. "Mal'Ganis will join you as well. I will focus my efforts on ensuring the Lich King lands us at the appropriate location."

Once he finished relaying his orders, Tichondrius sensed agreement from his fellow nathrezim, along with a significant amount of excitement. The prospect of finally making their move after so much meticulous planning was as intoxicating to them as it was to him.

After they retreated from the link, Tichondrius turned his attention once again to Gul'dan. The former orc warlock exuded a heady mixture of fear, anger, and undiluted hatred. Not only toward his wardens, but also to the world on which he had died and denied him his so-called 'destiny.' Death magic more potent than Tichondrius had ever felt in the living realm wrapped around Gul'dan like a cloak, dancing and flickering as though eager to break free from the Lich King's icy prison and unleash his wrath.

The sight was nothing short of awe-inspiring. In many ways, Gul'dan was the perfect harbinger of doom that they were to bring upon Azeroth.

With a resonating mental command, Tichondrius addressed the Lich King. "Prepare yourself, Gul'dan. We are nearing the threshold. Properly reaching our destination will require a great deal of accuracy."

The Lich King responded with a silent affirmation, the magic swirling around him intensifying with anticipation for what was to come.

An intricate web of spells, each more powerful than most mortal mages could begin to comprehend, soon enveloped their icy vessel when his fellow nathrezim finished their casting. Tichondrius studied the spells and decided that they would be sufficient for hiding them long enough to establish their stronghold.

Outside their vessel, the Twisting Nether began to thin, the chaotic reality-bending dimension giving way to the more solid existence of the physical realm. Gradually, they started to see the vague outlines of the world that had eluded them for so long through the cracks in reality. The energies of the Twisting Nether coalesced around them, forming a sphere of fluctuating magic. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, and then with a sound like the universe itself taking a sharp intake of breath, reality buckled and shifted.

We have arrived.

Azeroth was spread out beneath them, a world of lush forests, towering mountains, and shimmering oceans. A world teeming with life and hope serenely floating in the black sea of space.

A world they would soon lay to waste.

"You know where to land, Gul'dan," Tichondrius said, watching the planet grow larger before them. "Our target should be somewhere in the South Sea."

"I can sense it,"
the Lich King responded for the first time since he had been remade. His voice was like the sound of a hundred souls wailing in torment. "There are souls there, hidden under a layer of deceptive magic."

"Then it is as Kil'jaeden said. It is unique magic, but not strong enough to deter us. I will cast the spell to peer through it once we grow closer," Tichondrius immediately responded.

The Lich King responded with another feeling of acknowledgement and growing anticipation.

It wasn't long before they were surrounded by a fiery halo that signified their entry into Azeroth's atmosphere. If not for the many spells hiding them from view, Tichondrius had no doubt that their descent would be leaving behind a brilliant streak of fire and shadow. Despite the intense heat, the ice that encased the Lich King remained utterly unaffected.

Once he judged them to be close enough, Tichondrius focused his mind as he drew upon eons of accumulated knowledge before carefully weaving a spell of Arcane and Fel magic that would greatly enhance his vision. As he finished casting the spell and felt it begin to take hold, Tichondrius turned his attention to the approaching waters and searched for their destination.

It took him several moments, but Tichondrius was eventually able to spot their target. It was a small dot of land in an otherwise wide open sea.

A small dot of land that was moving.

"There it is, Gul'dan," Tichondrius said as he cast a spell to share his vision with the Lich King. "The beginning of our new empire lies waiting."

Tichondrius could feel Gul'dan begin to grow excited as the landmass came into view. "Yes… I can feel them. So many lives ready to be ended. Ready to become my soldiers…"

Tichondrius felt a hint of amusement at how easily Gul'dan was distracted by the slightest hint of power. He was glad to see that the orc's insatiable ambition had not been broken by their torture. It would make him both easier to manipulate and more dangerous to the defenders of Azeroth.

Seeing that Gul'dan needed no more guidance, Tichondrius established a mental link with his fellow nathrezim. "Prepare yourselves. We will need to both slaughter the locals and take control of the creature as quickly as possible."

The nathrezim all signaled their readiness. Mal'Ganis in particular seemed eager to unleash his power on the unsuspecting mortals of Azeroth. As they drew closer, Tichondrius was soon able to make out more features of their destination. It was a verdant and peaceful island floating in the seas of Azeroth, filled with mountains and several large mortal buildings that blended perfectly with the surrounding nature. However, none of these features were the most interesting aspect of the island.

No, that belonged to the being of unimaginable size on whose shell the entire island existed. It was an enormous turtle, at least several miles long and with eyes that shone with wisdom. Tichondrius could sense that the creature was intensely magical, and could one day become an entity similar to the Wild Gods that had fought the Burning Legion during their first invasion.

However, its fate was not to be a defender of Azeroth. It was to become a mobile fortress upon which the Lich King could build an army that would upend this world.

Not only would the creature allow them to ravage any coastal settlements to build up their forces, but its powerful soul would be able to fuel a very formidable concealment spell. So long as they constructed a barrier around its shell, they would even be able to delve beneath the sea and hide within Azeroth's massive oceans. The Lich King's armies would become an ever growing tide of undeath capable of attacking anywhere and leaving before the defenders of Azeroth could organize a defense.

Truly, Kil'jaeden could not have chosen a more perfect location

When they were close enough for Tichondrius to make out the sight of unaware mortals going about their meaningless lives, the behemoth seemed to sense their approach. It turned its gaze toward them, and for a moment, Tichondrius could see a hint of fear and surprise in its eyes. Unfortunately, he couldn't savor the moment for long before they crashed into the creature's back with the force of a meteorite.

The impact sent a shockwave across the island, instantly decimating a portion of the lush landscape and gouging out a portion of flesh from the behemoth. Gul'dan was quick to release an overwhelming wave of Death magic that spread out over the rest of the beast, causing the wound to rot and remaining plant life to wither. Tichondrius knew that everywhere on the island, any buried dead would be rising to kill the living as newly formed servants of the Lich King.

The creature let out a bellow of anguish, shaking the entire island as it thrashed in pain.

Now safe to do so, Tichondrius and the other nathrezim emerged from the Lich King's icy prison, their forms shifting as they became physical once more. When he fully emerged, Tichondrius took in the scene around him. A river of rotten blood and flesh flowed from the wound that they had created, the once verdant landscape now a desolate wasteland withering under the Lich King's power.

They had landed away from any mortals, but Tichondrius could already hear screams of terror and confusion in the distance from the indigenous mortals. The sound was a pleasant one, but Tichondrius had no intention of allowing himself to become distracted.

"Balnazzar, Detheroc, and Varimathras, I want you to prepare the ritual necessary to construct the barrier," Tichondrius ordered, speaking out loud now that they had no need for a mental link. The three brothers nodded and immediately began preparing the necessary ritual. "Mal'Ganis, I want you to focus on killing the behemoth so that Gul'dan can raise the creature into undeath. I will focus on destroying any mortal resistance."

Mal'Ganis grinned, his eyes shining with a dangerous light. "As you wish."

Turning to the rotting wound, Mal'Ganis released a stream of Fel fire that ate away at its flesh, slowly creating a tunnel that would allow access into the beast's organs. Tichondrius nodded with approval before turning his gaze to the Lich King, whose icy prison was beginning to spread over his surroundings.

"Gul'dan, continue to raise any who die and kill any remaining plant life," said Tichondrius, as he began making his way toward the nearest concentration of mortals. "It won't be long before any mortal resistance begins to starve and this entire island falls under your control. I will of course help them along."

"With pleasure."







As he swung his staff into the skull of another ravenous undead, Chen Stormstout hoped with all his might that everything he was seeing was a horrible dream.

He hoped that he was truly just sleeping somewhere in an alcohol induced haze. If he could just wake up to discover that everything he had seen was not real, then Chen Stormstout would be willing to swear to the August Celestials themselves to never drink another drop of alcohol. He would become the most dutiful disciple that Master Shang Xi could ever hope for and dedicate his life to the betterment of his people.

Anything, if only he could wake up from this nightmare.

But as another wave of undead surged toward him, Chen had to accept that he was not dreaming.

It had been several hours since he had been suddenly awoken by a cataclysmic shaking and the deafening sound of Shen-zin Su wailing in agony. Before Chen could understand what was happening, a tide of magic more evil than anything Chen had ever encountered passed over the island. It caused him to feel sick to his stomach as the Pei-Wu Forest, where he had fallen asleep, began to wither and die all around him.

Then… the dead began to rise. Generations of pandaren who had peacefully been laid to rest on the back of Shen-zin Su were now rising from their graves. Their rotting flesh and vacant eyes were a grotesque mockery of the life they once held. Worst of all, they were not mindless. Whatever evil entity resurrected and controlled them showed coordination as the undead spread out to and attack the living. Their numbers kept growing in size as each innocent life was taken.

Unable to believe his eyes, Chen had immediately grabbed his staff and helped escort as many civilians as he could to the Temple of Five Dawns. From there, Master Shang Xi had begun to organize a defense and prepare an expeditionary group to search for the source of the calamity that had befallen them… until the voice of Shen-zin Su himself echoed across the island.

"Children of Liu Lang… I have been struck… by an entity of unimaginable evil and power," The Great Turtle's had said, his exhausted voice in so much pain that it hurt Chen to even listen to it. "They seek to kill me… they seek to raise me into undeath… I fear… that I am dying… you cannot resist. Flee before it is too late."

Thinking back on that moment, Chen Stormstout wished that he had listened. He and several of the other disciples rebelled in outrage when Master Shangxi proclaimed that they would be abandoning their home on the backs of their dragon turtles. Instead, they had organized a group to find the source of this evil and destroy it. They had made significant progress on their way to the Wood of Staves where the vile entity was located.

That changed when an enormous, furless being with batlike wings and curled horns emerged from the tide of undead and began slaughtering them like animals. Every one of their attacks was either blocked by impenetrable barriers or managed to strike only illusions before the creature retaliated with terrifying magic and monstrous strength.

Now, the half of them that had survived were running for their lives after Elder Shaopai stayed behind to delay the creature.

"Stormstout!" Chen was pulled from his thoughts as a fissure of earth opened beneath the approaching undead before swiftly crushing them.

Chen turned to see his fellow disciple, Strongbo destroying undead one after another with strong fists. "Now isn't the time to daydream, you fool!"

"Right," Chen managed to say, pushing back the rising despair as he spotted another group of undead. Quickly channeling his Chi, Chen opened his mouth and released a stream of fire that incinerated the approaching abominations.

A few of the undead monks managed to agilely leap over the flames, but they displayed only a fraction of the martial arts skill they had possessed in life, and Chen was soon able to destroy them. After he dodged beneath the fist of the last undead, a fellow disciple he had shared drinks with just a few weeks ago and crushed their skull with his staff, Chen turned to his surviving allies.

"This cannot continue! We must retreat to the Temple," Chen said to his fellow disciples. "Master Shang Xi was right. We can't hope to defend against this onslaught for long. We have to flee."

"No! We cannot abandon Shen-zin su!" cried Yinli Firepaw. Her eyes which were usually full of life and mirth were now wide with fear. "We cannot allow our home to become an abomination of undead! We must fight!"

"We did fight, and we lost within moments!" Chen yelled as he remembered the sight of skilled warriors becoming dozens of undead or being killed by that winged monster. "Wherever these monsters came from, they are far beyond our ability to handle! Shen-zin Su stopped thrashing nearly an hour ago and is barely alive! Once he dies and is turned into an undead, they will merely need to order him underwater, and we will all drown!"

Chen Stormstout watched as the hopelessness of their situation dawned on them. If they had a defensible position and the chance to properly organize, they might have been able to defend for a significant amount of time against the undead. However, their enemies had no reason to fight fairly. The moment Shen-zin Su died, no amount of bravery or cleverness would be able to save them from joining him.

"Chen is right," Strongbo finally spoke up, his voice echoing in the silence that had descended over them. "We've done everything that we can, but we cannot hope to hold on once the enemy turns the very land beneath our feet against us. We must put as much space between ourselves and Shen-zin Su before that happens, or they will simply chase us down."

Chen could tell that nobody wished to admit it, but there was nothing they could say to counter the statement. After a few more moments of discussion, everyone agreed to begin making their way north toward Wu Song Village where Master Shang XI intended to escort the civilians.

As they traveled north at their fastest pace, Chen and his fellow disciples were forced to face isolated groups of undead attacking them at every opportunity. They were more than able to hold their own, but these constant interruptions slowed them down considerably. Not only that, but it soon became apparent to Chen that it wasn't only pandaren who were being turned into undead abominations.

Birds, snakes, and every woodland creature that lived on the island were attacking them with vicious ferocity. Chen even spotted a fully grown tiger being devoured by a swarm of insects, only to be raised into undeath itself. It was then that Chen realized the full scope of the horror they faced.

Every living creature on Shen-zin Su was being turned into an instrument of death.

They continued their retreat with heavy hearts, utilizing their Chi to move at extreme speeds and avoid as many undead as they could. They had only traveled for a few more minutes when an eerie hiss filled the air, followed by a mournful guttural groan. A cluster of massive serpent-like figures suddenly rose from the decaying underbrush, their glowing eyes a horrifying shade of blue.

Undead cloud serpents. The majestic sky dancing creatures that every pandaren on the Wandering Isle used to marvel at now twisted into horrifying monsters.

"Get ready!" Chen shouted, bracing himself for their inevitable attack. There were far too many of the creatures for them to survive without casualties, but Chen had every intention of fighting with all he had.

Just as the undead abominations swooped down from the sky toward them, streaks of crackling jade lightning seared through the air, tearing into the serpents' decaying bodies. The horde of undead creatures were wiped out almost instantly, their bodies collapsing into dust and dispersing on the wind.

A figure emerged from the nearby brush. Chen's heart filled with relief and hope as he recognized the figure of Master Shangxi, dressed in his typical azure robes and carrying his familiar curved wooden staff. The elderly monk's body was filled with obvious grief and exhaustion, but his eyes held a steady determination that bolstered the resolve of every disciple present.

"Master Shangxi!" Yinli exclaimed, joy evident in her voice. "Thank the Celestials that you're here!"

Master Shang Xi smiled warmly at them, managing to soothe their fears for even a moment. "I am relieved to see you are all alive. When you ran off toward the source of this evil, I feared the worse."

"I'm relieved to see you too, Master, but we must leave at once," said Chen, urgently interrupting their reunion. "When we went to face the enemy, we encountered a creature of unimaginable power. It slaughtered half of us within minutes and was only barely held back by Elder Shaopai. There's no telling when it will return."

Master Shangxi nodded solemnly and was about to respond until he suddenly frowned and turned his attention toward the west. "I'm afraid… that it seems to already be here."

Chen followed Master Shangxi's gaze and felt the hope that had been building up inside of him instantly extinguish. From the west, a dark figure accompanied by a tide of undead was marching toward them. It was the same creature that had decimated their group earlier, with its monstrous size and towering wingspan standing high above the undead following its path.

"We have to run!" Strongbo urged, panic seeping into his voice. "Master, we can't fight that thing! It's too strong!"

Chen turned his gaze back to Master Shangxi, expecting to see the same determined eyes that he had seen before. Instead, the elderly monk's expression was a mixture of despair and sorrow, before soon becoming one of calm acceptance. It took only a single moment for Chen to understand Master Shangxi's intentions.

"No! Master, you can't stay beh—"

"Be quiet," Master Shangxi interrupted, silencing his disciple with a single stern gaze. The elder monk then turned to address all of them, his voice steady as ever despite their approaching doom.

"My disciples, you have all fought well and bravely. You have all followed the teaching of Liu Lang, and I could not be more proud of you. But Strongbo is right. The strength of our foe is beyond anything I have ever felt, and the time has come when we as protectors must make difficult decisions for the sake of our people."

Chen and his fellow disciples listened in horror, their words sticking in their throats as they realized what their teacher was suggesting.

"Go, my students. Escort our people away from this place and warn the world of what has happened here. With Shen-zin Su under their control, these monsters will have no trouble passing through the mists that protect Pandaria. Leave here and ensure that our culture, our teachings, and our legacy continue on in this world."

Chen stepped forward, his voice cracking with emotion. "Master Shangxi… you can't—"

"Enough, Chen!" Master Shangxi firmly silenced him once again. "If even the smallest part of you respects me as a teacher, then you will do as I say. I will not watch any more of my students die on this day!"

Seeing the resolve in his master's eyes, Chen was left speechless. The silence that fell over them was broken only by the sounds of the approaching undead.

"Chen, listen to me," said Master Shangxi, his tone softening as his gaze filled with warmth and pride. "I have watched you grow into the amazing young monk that stands before me. No matter how many of my lessons you skipped, I've always seen the potential for greatness within you. Our people need all of you if they are to survive. Now go. We do not have time for long farewells."

With eyes that stung with unshed tears, Chen bowed deeply in respect to Master Shangxi. Strongbo and the others joined him, giving their own bows to the elder monk. After several moments, they honored their teacher's wishes and began sprinting north toward Wu Song Village. As they ran, Chen couldn't help but look back one last time.

He saw the moment that Master Shangxi placed his palms together and used one of the rare feats achievable by master monks. Chen watched in amazement as Master Shangxi split his body into three separate elemental copies of himself, each of them controlling the powers of Storm, Earth, and Fire. The three elemental beings charged into the undead horde, laying waste to them with fists that shook the earth, blades that set them ablaze, and winds that cut their decayed flesh to pieces.

The last thing that Chen saw, before he lept over a hill and his Master disappeared from sight, was the annoyed grimace of the horned monster as it began casting some foul spell.

The rest of their journey was quiet, aside from the occasional sound of weeping. It didn't take long for them to reach Wu Song village, and Chen was greatly relieved to see that it was still standing. The village was built right next to their training grounds, so they must have received help fairly quickly.

As they approached, they saw the remaining monks helping to organize the evacuation of the civilians. Chen saw men, women, and children being helped onto the backs of dragon turtles before being led over the edge of Shen-Zin Su's shell. It was a steep drop, so many of the civilians had to be cajoled to take the plunge. Although dragon turtles were the mount of choice for their people, they did not have enough for everyone so multiple people were assigned to each one.

Knowing they had no time to waste, Chen and his fellow disciples rushed to help, running through the village to find any stragglers and calming the frightened children as they boarded the dragon turtles. Chen was relieved to hear that his family had been among the first to go. They tried to stay and wait for him, but the monks had known that they could not tolerate any such delays.

Chen wasn't sure how long this went on, but only stopped when he felt that land beneath him begin to shake. With dawning horror, he looked over the edge of Shen-zin Su and saw the Great Turtle beginning to glow with the evil magic that had destroyed their home.

"We must go, now!" Chen yelled out over the commotion. A panic quickly took over the crowd as they realized what was happening, and the few that still remained hurried to jump over the edge into the waiting sea.

It was only when the last civilian was properly evacuated that the monks themselves began to follow them. Just as Chen was about to do so himself, he stumbled as he heard a loud explosion from the direction that they had left behind Master Shangxi. Although he was far too distant to sense what had happened, something deep within told Chen that his Master had passed on.

"Chen, let's go," said Strongbo as he hurried over to Chen and placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "We can only avenge Master Shangxi if we are alive."

Chen turned to Strongbo and saw deep grief in the eyes of his closest friend. In a single day, their entire lives had been upended from one of peaceful training to one of tragedy.

With a decisive nod, Chen took one last look behind him before channeling his Chi and leaping away from the only home he had ever known. Moments after he crashed into the salty water below. A dragon turtle carrying several other monks hurried to his side and began frantically dragging them away from Shen-zin Su.

Chen had no idea where they were going as everyone was fleeing in separate directions to make it more difficult for the monsters to hunt them down. If they stuck together in a single group, it wouldn't take more than a few flaps of Shen-zin Su's enormous limbs to catch up to them. They would reunite if possible, but the only way for some of them to survive and warn the world what had happened was for them to go their separate ways.

Chen channeled his Chi and held his breath as the dragon turtle dove beneath the waves. It was only when they needed to come back up for air nearly ten minutes later that Chen was able to see what had become of his home.

The Great Turtle was slowly beginning to move once again, his eyes glowing with an eerie blue light that filled him with dread. Every hint of life on his shell had withered away and been replaced with the decayed frozen aftermath of what was once a vibrant landscape. Shen-zin Su's shell looked more like a graveyard than the paradise it once was. A barrier of foul green magic began to rise around the shell, closing it off from the outside world and trapping anyone who had not already escaped within.

As the dragon turtle continued to swim away as fast as possible, Chen caught a final glimpse of Shen-zin Su's massive body submerging beneath the waves before completely vanishing from sight.




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