With the support of the Dragonflight, the Allied forces' air superiority was guaranteed to a certain extent.
The Korialstrasz of this era readily agreed to Malfurion's request. Carrying all the members of the strike team on his broad back, he beat his wings and charged toward Zin-Azshari at high speed under the cover of his fellow dragons.
Before departure, Andreas specifically called over Shandris—whose injuries had just healed—along with Leticia's squad.
"Shandris, I'll leave these children in your care for the time being."
"I know. But you..." Shandris hesitated, her mouth opening as if to say something, but she ultimately kept the words to herself.
"It's nothing. Just be extremely careful when you break into Zin-Azshari again. If you encounter Queen Azshara, I don't believe she will show any mercy this time."
Noticing Shandris instinctively resting her hand on the pendant at her chest, Andreas paused. He then realized and lifted his Druid robes, revealing an identical pendant tied around his left wrist.
"Don't worry, these pendants will keep us connected. Also, watch your emotions; a severe injury like a severed hand can't be reattached every time."
Seeing the pendant on Andreas' wrist, a mysterious glint flashed in Shandris' eyes. Her originally unhappy expression softened significantly, and she nodded with a smile as Leticia giggled knowingly in the background.
"Alright, I promise you. May Elune be with you."
"May Elune be with you."
Seeing Leticia hesitantly opening her mouth to say something, Andreas spoke first. "I know what you want to say. I will try to find time to check on Lady Felicia's situation."
He reached out and ruffled Leticia's hair, reminding her with some concern, "You heard what I just told Shandris. You must also remain calm at all times."
Leticia grumpily swatted Andreas' hand away. "I know~ Stop treating me like a child."
...
"...I say, are you two avoiding me on purpose?"
On the way to Zin-Azshari, Andreas looked at Rhonin and Broxigar with a strange expression, as they were staying quite a distance away from him.
At Andreas' questioning, Rhonin immediately shook his head in a panic, while Broxigar simply lowered his head and closed his eyes to rest, saying nothing.
"Pfft~" Seeing his apprentice's flustered state, Krasus couldn't help but chuckle while covering his mouth.
"Apologies, Lord Moonshadow. Both Rhonin and Broxigar have some psychological trauma regarding Shadow power. They aren't avoiding you on purpose; please forgive them."
Psychological trauma?
Andreas' mind was filled with question marks. He remembered that in the original history, Rhonin and Broxigar didn't have such a peculiar issue.
Could it be that the future 'me' did something to them?
Although Krasus appeared friendly, whenever Andreas tried to ask key questions through indirect hints, this dragon in human form would always laugh and skillfully steer the conversation elsewhere.
Furthermore, as a native of this era, Andreas couldn't directly speak of future events, as that would likely attract the attention of the Bronze Dragonflight.
After fruitlessly asking many questions only to be subtly blocked by Krasus, Andreas finally gave up in frustration.
Forget it, this kind of 'riddle-talking' is too exhausting. Better to focus on the present.
As Archimonde personally joined the battlefield, this final battle concerning the fate of Azeroth reached a fever pitch. Korialstrasz's flight was by no means smooth; the Burning Legion's aerial forces tried countless times to shoot him down.
Tyrande, Malfurion, and Krasus each displayed their prowess, clearing the aerial threats while protecting the Red Dragon as he dove deeper into Zin-Azshari.
By the time they broke through the swarms of Felbats, Korialstrasz was almost entirely dyed green with demon blood. Fortunately, they finally arrived above the barrier of Zin-Azshari.
"I can only take you this far. Now, I must return to the Queen's side to protect her."
Malfurion crouched down and patted Korialstrasz's hardened back scales. "Thank you. This is enough."
"Krasus."
"Leave it to me. Rhonin, give me a hand."
Krasus and Rhonin began to chant and gesture simultaneously to cast their spells. Andreas watched their movements with great interest.
Heh? So ten thousand years from now, spellcasting still requires hand gestures and incantations? That's quite different from now.
With the Well of Eternity as a backdrop, the Highborne mages cast spells as easily as breathing. As long as they refined enough Arcane energy beforehand, even an apprentice could release a spell with a wave of their hand.
One couldn't call this a regression in Arcane arts; after all, relying on the Well was blatant cheating. Perhaps Rhonin and Krasus' method was the more stable and controllable way of casting.
Under their joint efforts, the translucent barrier above Zin-Azshari was sliced open like a wound. Krasus shifted his gestures and shouted a warning, "Everyone, stay close to Rhonin and me! We are initiating the teleport!"
...
When Andreas and the others opened their eyes again, they had already passed through the barrier and entered Zin-Azshari. Krasus and Rhonin had performed a short-range teleport without fixed coordinates; the team's priority now was to determine their location.
Andreas, who had previously infiltrated the city, transformed into a Golden Eagle and soared high to observe the architectural styles nearby.
"We're in luck. This is right at the junction of the commercial district and the noble district. However, I don't see any of the Highborne who usually enjoy strolling around. The whole city feels deathly silent."
Although Zin-Azshari had shown signs of decline due to the demon invasion, the small area near the noble district had maintained its prosperity until now. Now, it was desolate and quiet.
As I suspected. To accelerate Sargeras' entry into Azeroth, Azshara has begun forcibly conscripting Highborne mages.
The strike team had landed not far from the Well of Eternity in the city center. But to reach their destination, they needed to pass the most important checkpoint—the Palace Gates.
Andreas had entered the palace before; the entire complex was shrouded in a powerful barrier personally constructed by Queen Azshara, and the Well of Eternity was contained within the palace grounds.
The group moved silently toward the palace under Andreas' guidance. When they reached the gates, they were, as expected, intercepted by the Queen's Guard led by Varo'then.
"Just as Her Majesty predicted, you have indeed come." Varo'then rested his two-handed greatsword on his shoulder, assuming a combat stance. The other elite guards were also prepared for battle. Varo'then was not at all surprised by Malfurion's arrival.
Shing!
Pointing his greatsword at the squad of less than ten, Varo'then wore a cruel smile. "Although the Queen only ordered me to hold the gates, if I can bring your heads to her, Her Majesty will surely reward me in person."
Andreas stopped Malfurion from attempting to speak. "Mentor, prepare for battle. That is Varo'then, the Captain of the Guard. There is no point in talking to him; he is Azshara's number one loyal dog."
"Varo'then... I see..." Malfurion's face gradually darkened. "The debt for Lord Ravencrest's death—we, his juniors, shall settle it for him!"
"Hmph! Try it if you can." Varo'then swung his sword forward and commanded loudly, "Guard! Crush them! For the glory of Azshara... Ugh!"
Looking in disbelief at the glowing green warglade protruding from his left chest, Varo'then struggled to turn his head back in his final moments.
"You! Betrayal..."
Slash!
Before Varo'then could finish, another identical blade cut off his head first.
"Yo~" A blindfolded elf flicked the blood off his warglades. Ignoring the commotion of the guards, he smiled wickedly at the stunned Malfurion.
"Brother, I've come to receive you. And..."
Turning his gaze toward the frowning Tyrande, the man's expression instantly softened. "My beloved Tyrande."