Two days later, on the Broken Isles, the Tomb of Sargeras.
Archimonde, who was the focus of all parties, was hiding inside, recuperating and recovering by relying on the Fel aura emitted by Sargeras' avatar.
In order to enter Azeroth, and by means of the book of medivh, he needed to suppress his power to the lowest level, otherwise he would not be able to pass through the portal.
And in order to deter the Lich King, far away in Northrend, he also forcibly overexerted his power to destroy Lordaeron.
Away from the convergence points of the magical network, relying on spells to destroy required too great a price, but all of it was worth it.
The charming and seductive Mother Shahraz walked to the secret chamber, bowing slightly in submission.
"My Lord, Detheroc, Banehollow, and Varimathras have fallen. The Eastern Kingdoms are still in chaos, but the humans have still organized troops to prepare to go to the continent of Kalimdor."
Her elegant, husky voice was very captivating; even without seeing her, just hearing her voice would make one's blood boil.
dreadlords loved to deal with males, easily manipulating them by exploiting their impulses ruled by their lower bodies.
This feeling of dominating others and turning enemies into cannon fodder was truly addictive and never failed.
But this method had no effect on those who were focused on grander schemes, and the Archimonde before her was one of them.
Archimonde, with his eyes closed, his aura became chaotic. In a fit of rage, he punched and shattered the wall, showing how immense his anger was; he was prone to fits of rage.
"Useless! Three useless fools!"
The sounds of smashing continued for a while before finally quieting down.
"Contact all forces loyal to The Legion, no matter how weak, and send them all to Kalimdor. Have them hide for now, until I arrive."
"Also, tell that Lich King to send all his forces to Kalimdor, not a single soldier left behind."
"I'm leaving this matter to you. If it doesn't listen, then find a way to make it listen. Remember, if you can't handle it, don't come back. Go to the Coven of Witches yourself to receive punishment."
At the mention of the Coven of Witches, even Mother Shahraz, who was skilled at manipulating hearts, couldn't help but shiver.
Go there to be tortured?
No demon could walk out intact; they would either wish for death or be twisted into beasts that only knew the instinct to kill, without any self-awareness!
"Yes, my Lord, your will is my mission."
She bowed respectfully, fearing that the enraged Archimonde would vent his anger on her, which would truly be an undeserved calamity.
This was not impossible; in the Twisting Nether, even within the Burning Legion, high-ranking demons would beat lower-ranking demons whenever they pleased.
If they were in a good mood, they'd beat them; if they were in a bad mood, they'd beat them.
If they ate too much, they'd beat them; if they were hungry, they'd beat them. In short, they'd beat them whenever they wanted, and even killing them was of no consequence.
Everything was based on might; what morality or rule of law was there?
Talking about the rule of law with demons was less entertaining than watching kobolds perform a crazy horse show!
If it weren't for the current circumstances, Archimonde would have wanted to flay those three dreadlords alive; they were more trouble than they were worth!
They even fell into the hands of humans, such weak humans they couldn't even defeat. What a disgrace!
Two days later.
City of Hope.
The blacksmith shop expanded again, and this time it could enchant weapons.
Longswords could be enchanted with fire damage, and hitting an enemy could even set them on fire.
Enchanting with frost damage meant hitting an enemy would definitely slow them down.
However, a weapon could only be enchanted with one effect. If multiple effects could be stacked, it would probably be like stepping on one's right foot with the left, directly spiraling into the sky!
Not only melee weapons but also ranged bows and staves could be enchanted accordingly.
Onyxia just glanced at it, and after experimenting, her eyes immediately sparkled. This was a good thing!
What was most abundant in Azeroth?
Murlocs!
And after murlocs?
Then came adventurers of various races.
Not every creature thought about helping its own clan and kingdom; many creatures would try to venture out of their living areas.
They would work for employers, doing quests in exchange for gold or equipment rewards.
The City of Hope was now an emerging city for adventurers; desperate nobles urgently needed the help of greedy adventurers.
They all shared one title, Footmen!
dwarves, Jungle trolls, Zandalari trolls, gnomes, and even gnolls and tauren, as long as they were intelligent races, they all wanted to come here to make a fortune.
As for the undead Scourge, as long as they dropped gold, they would be steamrolled by the Footmen in minutes!
Greedy adventurers would tell you that they would help you as long as you paid; miss a single copper coin, and they would kill you directly!
"What a good thing! I really don't know how Prince Arthas does it!"
Onyxia played with a staff. Without needing to use magic, the enchantment alone could launch an Ice Lance, and its lethality was considerable, directly piercing through a two-centimeter-thick steel plate.
The money-loving princess was already thinking of pocketing this batch of weapons. If they were sold, they would probably fetch three or four thousand gold!
"Prince Arthas is just that amazing. Don't busy yourself with these matters anymore. Are you ready for the westward journey?"
Sinestra took a sip from her coffee cup, dressed in a black gown, her fair feet adorned with ten-centimeter red-soled black high heels, exuding the elegance of a noblewoman.
Ever since she learned that Arthas had slain Mannoroth and gained the ability to contend with Neltharion, the weight on her heart had finally lifted.
She wasn't afraid that Arthas would go back on his word, only that when the black dragon King truly arrived, she would have no way to deal with him.
At that time, she would still have to run around with her head in her hands, hiding everywhere.
Otherwise, she would inevitably be captured and forced to lay dragon eggs, treated as a breeding machine.
That kind of life, just thinking about it, made her hair stand on end; it was terrifying and disgusting.
They were husband and wife, so having children was normal.
But the key was that Neltharion was no longer normal. After being corrupted by the power of the Old Gods and absorbing elemental power, his body was constantly oozing magma.
Having children at this time was asking for death. Besides her, Neltharion's other consorts had all been killed because they couldn't withstand it.
What kind of black dragon was like this?
"I'm all ready! My servants in Dustwallow Marsh have already built a dock and cleared flat ground along the coastline."
"Once the fleet arrives, there will be a foothold. Hmph, this time Prince Arthas will have to praise me."
The proud black dragon princess lifted her delicate, pretty face. How was this the poisonous scorpion beauty who manipulated hearts and divided kingdoms in Stormwind?
She was clearly a young woman experiencing her first love, eager to attract the attention of her beloved.
Can't women pursue men?
Who made that rule?
If she didn't make a move now, it would be even harder later.
Especially with those two other female dragons who seemed to be supervising but actually frequently ran to the Town Hall. Bah, how shameless!