Cenarius, the Demigod of the Forest, was not particularly outstanding in any single area compared to the other Demigods, each of whom possessed unique specialties.
In terms of defense, he was no match for the Turtle Demigod Tortolla; in agility, he could not compete with the Wolf God Goldrinn or the Panther Ashamane. His healing and magical offense were inferior to Ursol's mastery of Shamanism, and his raw physical power was surpassed by Ursol's brother, Ursoc.
However, Cenarius' greatest weakness was also his greatest strength: being a generalist meant he was capable of everything. The Druid class itself represented versatility and utility. Perhaps his performance on the battlefield wasn't as flamboyant as those who excelled in specific traits, but it was his all-around support that sustained the endurance of the Demigod legion.
Archimonde the Defiler, having led the Burning Legion to destroy countless worlds, possessed unparalleled combat experience. He saw through Cenarius's importance as the "lubricant" of the Demigod legion at a glance and immediately unleashed a lethal move.
The "Finger of Death," which had nearly turned Andreas into ashes previously, was cast once more. A sickly green beam of Fel energy streaked across the battlefield, aimed directly at Cenarius, who was unable to dodge in time.
Malfurion, who was preparing to set out with the strike team, shouted in horror at the sight.
"Teacher, watch out for the ambush!"
However, Malfurion's warning came too late—or rather, Archimonde's attack was too fast. The beam was already closing in on the Forest Demigod the moment Malfurion spoke.
"ROAR!"
Multiple dragon roars echoed from the distant sky. Unlike the crisp, high-pitched cries of the Cloud Serpents soaring over the battlefield, these were deeper, more resonant sounds. Four compressed energy blasts of different colors arrived at the critical moment, simultaneously striking the sickly green beam.
As the energies collided, Cenarius cast a shield on himself and instinctively retreated on all fours.
Boom!
The violent explosion behind him sent the heavy Demigod stumbling, nearly causing him to fall disgracefully to the ground.
Archimonde withdrew his finger and looked toward the distant sky, his brow furrowing visibly. "Dragons... I didn't expect these oversized lizards to return to the battlefield."
Led by four of the largest dragons, the Bronze, Red, and Green dragonflights were rapidly approaching the battlefield, their wings beating against the horizon. One adult Red Dragon broke away from the main group first and landed near Malfurion's position. A short elf with platinum-blonde hair leaped down from the dragon's back.
Andreas raised an eyebrow as he looked at this High Elf who shouldn't exist in this era. Krasus?
Yes, it was Krasus—and in fact, both the elf and the dragon before him were Krasus. The humanoid form was not Krasus's true self; he was the Red Dragon who had traveled back to the ancient times alongside Rhonin and Broxigar, originally named Korialstrasz.
Interestingly, the Korialstrasz of ten thousand years ago already existed in this timeline. To avoid a temporal paradox, the time-traveling Krasus could not revert to his dragon form. Meanwhile, the Korialstrasz of this era could only remain in dragon form and could not shapeshift into a human. They existed simultaneously in this bizarre state.
Riding myself? Interesting.
Krasus let out a sigh of relief when he saw Rhonin and Broxigar. "I have fulfilled my mission. I finally convinced the Queen at the last moment. It was also fortunate that His Majesty Malygos just woke up from his severe injuries."
Andreas's mouth twitched. Fortunate? I hope you can maintain that optimistic attitude toward him.
As expected, Malygos—heavily scarred from the Dragon Soul's attack—plunged into the battlefield, his eyes red as he searched frantically.
"Where is Neltharion?! Where is that traitor? I must kill him with my own hands to avenge the Blue Dragonflight!"
In truth, Krasus had tried many times to convince the dragons to unite against the Burning Legion. He had also repeatedly warned his mate, Alexstrasza the Life-Binder, to be wary of Neltharion, but it had been to no avail.
Events recorded in history occurred as they always had. Krasus helplessly witnessed the betrayal of the Black Dragon King. The Blue Dragonflight, being the closest to and friendliest with the Black Dragons, were the first to suffer devastating losses. Under the power of the Dragon Soul wielded by Neltharion, the elite of the Blue Dragonflight were nearly wiped out. Even Malygos's prime consort, Sindragosa the Blue Dragon Queen, perished under the terrifying power of the artifact.
Malygos, who had also been severely injured, only recently regained consciousness. Upon learning the state of his flight, he immediately howled for revenge against Neltharion.
"Speaking of which," Andreas rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "when I was still at Black Rook Hold, I saw Neltharion flying rapidly toward Zin-Azshari. Have any of you seen that traitorous Black Dragon King lately?"
Malfurion paused, then shook his head solemnly. "I received reports about it as well, but Neltharion has not appeared near the front lines—at least not openly."
"Hmm..." Andreas tugged at the stubble growing on his chin again, feeling a headache coming on. What was the original history like? I can't remember...
Andreas was not some genius scholar with a photographic memory. It had been years since he read the War of the Ancients trilogy; he couldn't possibly remember every single detail.
A powerful enemy that has already appeared is far less threatening than one lurking in the shadows. The problem now was that no one knew where Deathwing—who should have been rushing greedily toward the Well of Eternity—had gone.
Andreas had initially assumed Deathwing was half-mad, tormented by the pain of his tearing body and the omnipresent whispers of the Old Gods. But based on his current pattern of behavior, the fellow seemed to retain a degree of rationality. Even as the strongest among the five Dragon Aspects, without the Dragon Soul to rely on, Neltharion facing Archimonde alone would result in only one outcome: death.
Perhaps wary of Archimonde, who guarded the Well, Neltharion was hiding in the shadows waiting for an opportunity. But now...
"This is bad. We must set out immediately," Andreas warned gravely. "Archimonde has appeared on the front lines. Only a small number of demons remain at the Well of Eternity for guarding and supervision."
"If Neltharion takes this chance to break into Zin-Azshari, heaven knows what kind of impact that half-mad troublemaker will have on the situation."
For Andreas, a madman whose next move was unpredictable was the hardest to deal with. He might very well ruin the plans Andreas had meticulously laid out.
Malfurion looked toward the front lines with worry. The Dragon Aspects, having had much of their power drained by the Dragon Soul, could not hide their weakened state. Even with Cenarius's assistance, they were being pushed back by Archimonde. Even the four Dragons working in perfect harmony struggled to restrict Archimonde's movements.
Archimonde, being cunning, avoided direct head-on collisions with the Aspects. Lacking Neltharion, who used to serve as their primary tank, the Aspects were struggling to adapt. Combined with their physical weakness, they were unable to effectively pin Archimonde down.
The occasional stray attacks made it impossible for Cenarius to focus on his support role, though the three dragonflights plunging into the main battlefield further consolidated the Allied forces' advantage.
"Malfurion," Tyrande said, tapping the Archdruid heavily on the shoulder. "In this situation, whether staying on the battlefield or infiltrating Zin-Azshari, everyone faces equal danger. Make the decision."
Taking a deep breath, Malfurion nodded firmly. "Let's go. Korialstrasz, we'll trouble you—please take us into Zin-Azshari."