In fact, Krasus didn't want to attack; he was simply following the instructions of the Green dragon queen, Ysera, to search for news and the whereabouts of the red dragon queen.
Yes, the red dragon queen had been missing for over a decade, and no one knew where she was, which was very strange.
Even when sleeping, the red dragon queen would issue commands; she would never disappear without reason. This anomaly made even the red dragonflight feel uneasy.
"Neltharion and his subordinates betrayed you; that is their business, and I deeply regret it."
"But Onyxia and Sinestra are not your enemies; they are my subjects. It was they who helped me defeat the invading vanguard of the Burning Legion. They gave me help, and I give them protection. Please believe me, not all black dragons are traitors."
"You must have heard of Mannoroth, right? He has been killed by me, utterly slain, and will not be resurrected. Can you do that? Will you still question me?"
Arthas' calm voice carried an undeniable authority.
Though merely a human, he possessed an aura of power comparable to a demigod.
This was a temperament forged in battle, naturally coalescing from countless skirmishes.
It was not something these giant dragons, relying on their racial identity and cultivated arrogance, could compare to.
Tarecgosa found the name somewhat familiar but couldn't place it. She lightly nudged her sister beside her and whispered,
"Emoliss, who is Mannoroth?"
This was the disadvantage of being young and not fond of history, and history itself didn't have many records, leading to her illiteracy.
Although Emoliss was older, she also didn't know this part of history. Her half-asleep eyelids didn't even lift.
"I don't know."
Well, that was a fruitless question.
Krasus was very young, but he knew a few things.
It was Chromie, the oldest bronze dragon who had participated in the War of the Ancients, who quietly replied,
"Mannoroth is a high-ranking general of the Burning Legion, second only to Archimonde. He once slew the Wild Boar Demigod Agamaggan and the Wild Bear Demigod brothers Ursoc and Ursol. His strength is formidable."
"Even Neltharion couldn't defeat him and was even wounded by him at one point; he is extremely troublesome."
Actually, Mannoroth's ability to slay three Wild Demigods wasn't because he was incredibly powerful, but because the three demigods had been fighting numerous demons for several days and nights without a moment's rest, and were already exhausted.
He just happened to encounter Mannoroth, the 'kill-stealer,' who added a significant entry to his record.
In a normal fight, it would have been impossible for them to be slain.
Yet, even so, it was terrifying; other demons might not have been able to kill these demigods.
My God!
The three giant dragons gasped in unison; just hearing it, they knew that demon was powerful.
They couldn't possibly suspect Chromie of lying; bronze dragons might be riddle-speakers, but they would never lie.
Tarecgosa's eyes darted around, her hatred for the black dragonflight making her look for ways to find fault.
"Hey, human prince, you say you killed Mannoroth, but where's the proof?"
"Anyone can brag. Why don't you say you killed Archimonde too?"
If the other party had truly slain Mannoroth, then it would prove that the other party was not an enemy, but an ally.
The War of the Ancients had caused heavy losses to the dragonflights, a past they absolutely did not want to mention. It was too tragic, so much so that even reminiscing would make them feel depressed and low-spirited.
Bang!
No sooner had the words fallen than Arthas waved his hand, and the sixty-meter corpse of a Pit Lord was thrown out, stirring up countless dust on the ground.
Even though he was dead, his body still exuded Fel energy, and his ferocious face, having died from a rogue's skill, left him with unclosed eyes, a sight that could give anyone nightmares.
Tarecgosa unconsciously took two steps back, a purely soul-deep fear causing her to act involuntarily.
After realizing what she had done, two blushes appeared on her fair, beautiful cheeks. It was so shameful; she had actually retreated in fear!
But seeing her two companions react similarly, she unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. So, she wasn't the only coward!
Good, good.
As long as everyone's a coward, then no one's a coward; no one can laugh at anyone else!
Chromie let out a surprised sound and flew forward, circling the enormous corpse to examine it.
She waved her hand, using her time-reversal ability to recreate the battle scene from ten thousand years ago.
Confirming the identity, it was undoubtedly the Pit Lord Mannoroth.
"It's him, no mistake."
Arthas waved his hand again, retrieving Mannoroth's corpse. He still needed to build a slaughterhouse to dissect Mannoroth.
High-ranking demons were also full of treasures, just like wild boars: their hides, flesh, bones, and organs were all good things!
Comparing a demon to a pig, it was unclear whether this elevated the status of the pig or devalued the pig's worth.
This miraculously effortless control of retrieval and storage made it hard not to imagine that the other party was also an Archmage skilled in spatial magic.
Krasus felt a sense of awe, standing straighter, his attitude becoming more respectful, even using honorifics. How could he not be respectful?
Might makes right, an eternal truth.
"Esteemed prince, we mean no harm. You are also aware of the immense casualties the black dragonflight inflicted upon the dragonflights."
"Your guarantee is indeed trustworthy, but we still wish to know, if they betray you, what will you do?"
Talk, everything can be discussed, and I can be patriotic too!
"Come with me."
Arthas turned and walked away, his back to them, showing no fear of being stabbed.
At this moment, Onyxia was overjoyed. What she despised most were weaklings and cowards.
Perhaps because her father was the infamous Deathwing, her standards were quite high. Only a man who could defeat her and possessed sufficient charm could make her look at him differently.
He didn't have to be a dragon; he could be of any race. And now, this prince, she felt, was not out of the question.
Oh no, there was a feeling called 'heart fluttering'!
The four dragons followed Arthas into the simple city, initially feeling a bit contemptuous, thinking, "This crude place is called a city?"
But when they saw the buildings inside, they all fell silent.
There was a very strong arcane aura, yet it wasn't quite like arcane. And being within it, they could feel their magic recovering quickly, which was truly astonishing.
The Gryphon Aviary had expanded many times over. In the game, it was just a large cage, but before them was a structure the size of thirty standard football fields.
Inside, they could see over twenty black dragon whelps flapping their wings, occasionally diving into the magma pool below, then shrieking as they burst out again.
This scene stunned them.
It was well-known that black dragon eggs were corrupted by an unknown force.
These corrupted dragon eggs simply couldn't hatch, or if they did, they would hatch into monsters, not pure black dragons.
Moreover, there were still many corrupted black dragon eggs inside, awaiting their hatching countdown.
"How is this possible?"
Tarecgosa muttered involuntarily.
Even normal dragon eggs weren't guaranteed to hatch into whelps; it all depended on luck.
Now, these whelps were visibly normal, and thinking of the plight of her own blue dragons, it was truly hard to accept.
"Nothing is impossible. The whelps are in my hands. Only I can help them cleanse the corruption and restore the glory of the black dragonflight."
Arthas stood with his hands behind his back, his calm tone carrying a hint of pride and an unrevealed smugness!