King Terenas remained silent for a long time before finally lifting his head, a glint of brilliance flashing in his murky eyes. "Take good care of Calia, you can go now." he said.
"Thank you, Father. I will not disappoint you." Arthas replied. He didn't elaborate on his plans, focusing first on establishing his prestige through war, and only then would he undertake the expedition to Kalimdor to establish a base.
Far away in the Tanaris Desert of Kalimdor, there exists a mysterious cave. It possesses the power of time, allowing traversal between the future and the past. If the past is changed, it sends ripples into the future. The mission of the bronze dragon flight is to ensure that no one interferes with the timeline.
Yet, those who stare into the abyss will eventually be swallowed by it; these bronze dragons may go mad in the future, transforming into eternal dragons, entangled in conflict—it's a classic case of me killing myself.
The hall of the Empty City stands over three hundred meters high, with a time sand glass encircled by arcane runes at its center, symbolizing the power to manage time. Several massive bronze dragons lay sleeping on the ground, their bodies surrounded by faint magical ripples, making them look formidable.
Suddenly, a long-lost voice emerged; the Bronze Dragon King, Nozdormu, who had disappeared for over a thousand years, appeared. "The timeline has changed, Chromie. Go check on the Eastern Continent and keep an eye on Arthas."
"What bad luck, I just finished dealing with the problems in Teldrassil." grumbled a dragon turned into a female blue gnome. For dragons, shapeshifting is controllable; they can become whatever they desire. Each dragon has their favored form, and transforming is effortless. "I understand, I'll handle it." she said.
The vast hall fell silent once more, as a few bronze dragons that hadn't gone to execute tasks in other timelines entered a state of false slumber again. Bronze dragons often traverse time to prevent so-called time reversals, disappearing for a few years or even decades is not uncommon.
The Bronze Dragon King is even more extravagant, often disappearing for dozens or hundreds of years, so it's no surprise. Arthas still didn't know he was being targeted; the ability to change time is inherently troublesome. After telling Calia the good news, he received her first kiss, as well as her affection.
In fact, he thought that he could have pushed Calia down right then and there, but the royal guard brought him an invitation to a banquet hosted by Deathwing, forcing him to suppress his desires. The Sanresto Manor covers a vast area outside the capital of Lordaeron, featuring vineyards and farms. One could even see gnomes working here, while ancient murals and magical artifacts hung on the walls.
Magical artifacts symbolize wealth; they are easy to use and enhance one's reputation. Every noble yearns to acquire more magical artifacts for decoration, but their value is steep; a magic ring that can conjure half a pint of clear water might cost them half their fortune, making them hard to come by.
Greeted by the maid, Arthas walked into the banquet hall in his armor, feeling out of place among the nobles dressed in evening gowns. The noblewomen and ladies, with plunging necklines, were surprised by Arthas's arrival, some bold enough to throw him flirtatious glances.
Deathwing received Arthas with great seriousness and invited him to converse privately. "Your Highness, it's such a pleasure to see you. Allow me to introduce my two children. This is my son, Nefarian, and this is my daughter, Katrana." Yet, in Arthas's eyes, these siblings were quite famous.
"Nefarian" "Katrana(Onyxia)"
Arthas shook Nefarian's hand and gave Onyxia a brief hug. "It's great to meet you both; it reminds me of a scene I saw in the Light."
"Oh, what could make Your Highness remember so vividly? Care to share it with me?" Onyxia asked, enchanting as she smiled while picking up a glass of red wine. Her ivory skin was like polished alabaster, and her long black hair cascaded in large waves over her shoulders.
Her stunning beauty and the smile it sculpted made even Arthas's heart race. Furthermore, her graceful figure was hidden beneath her court robes, exuding a palpable majesty that attracted attention.
"Do you think death is the end?" Arthas swirled the glass of wine, planning to charm Deathwing with all that he knew. If even a being like Nzoth could charm Deathwing, he couldn't fall too short, right? Why do Kil'jaeden and others love to concoct schemes? Because it's undeniably exhilarating to shoot from the shadows! Especially when he was currently without assets, using a little to gain a lot was thoroughly enjoyable!
"Oh? Could you elaborate?" Deathwing became intrigued; he didn't believe anyone could know something he didn't, as he was a dragon that had existed since ancient times, and over ten thousand years was ample time to learn any knowledge.
"I don't suppose Your Highness is bragging?" Nefarian couldn't help but laugh disdainfully; he looked down on humans the most. According to his character, he should have blasted them immediately with a dragon's breath, but even if he couldn't eliminate them, he could heavily injure them.
Onyxia said nothing, merely smirking, seeming to enjoy the show. She often used this expression to provoke men into competition, and no one would refuse a chance to display themselves in front of a beautiful woman.
"Oh? You don't believe me? Then let's make a bet. How about it?" Arthas retorted with a smirk, refusing to let them off easy. What kind of nonsense do you think you can mock him? If it was Deathwing, he could tolerate it, but what was a little shit like you?
Nefarian somewhat laughed with anger. "What does Your Highness wish to bet on?"
"Let's bet a dragon whelp, hmm, a dragon mount would suffice. If I win, you give me a whelp mount. If I lose, well, I can give you a research notebook. It's said to be an experimental record from a certain guardian, heh, its not Aegwynn's though." Arthas's smile was somewhat enigmatic, hinting at a flavor of conspiracy.
Upon hearing about the whelp mount, Onyxia couldn't help but flare up. When were the proud dragons anyone's mounts? What utter arrogance.
"Haha, does Your Highness believe he deserves a whelp mount?" Nefarian replied, barely containing his anger; if it weren't for considering his brutal father's significance, he wouldn't hesitate to crush this arrogant human here and now!