While Azeroth was receiving refugees evacuated from Norano, the ground near Hellfire Citadel had completely collapsed. Draenor's air was rapidly escaping through the torn earth, and the immense suction force from the cosmos accelerated the rate of collapse.
The area above Hellfire Citadel was a complete vacuum, but this did not affect the two sides currently engaged in battle.
After personal testing by Andreas, upon reaching the demigod level, he could survive in space while maintaining a non-breathing state to a limited extent.
Unlike simply holding his breath, a demigod completely shielded himself from the effects of losing air.
However, the countless strange rays in space could not be completely filtered by a demigod's body. Living unprotected in space for extended periods might lead to unknown influences and peculiar mutations.
As for the consequences of mutation, Andreas did not know and did not want to know. He only wanted to end the battle as quickly as possible and escape back to Azeroth before Draenor completely collapsed.
Kiljaeden, who had finally caught up to Velen, could not possibly let this excellent opportunity pass. His first move was his signature technique, Thousand Soul Shadow.
Countless small balls of Fel Energy swept toward the three individuals like green hail, covering the sky and earth.
Although Velen's combat power was strong, his strength was not offense, but rather support and defense, similar to the Naaru.
Utilizing the amplification effect of the prophet's staff, a solid golden barrier enveloped the three of them within a small radius.
The orbs of Thousand Soul Shadow struck the barrier with cracking sounds, and it seemed they could not breach Velen's defense in a short time.
However, Velen's solemn expression showed that defending against Kiljaeden's attack was not as easy as it appeared.
Illidan was never one to passively defend. After Andreas quietly opened a passage to the Shadow Realm, the two immediately slipped inside.
When they reappeared, they were already behind Kiljaeden. Illidan was the first to silently launch a surprise attack on Kiljaeden, brandishing the warglaives of azzinoth.
Sound could not travel in a vacuum, so the three of them could not communicate verbally during the battle.
However, this did not stump Andreas. In a flash of inspiration, he acted as a router, and Velen and Illidan connected to a small local network like authorized Wi-Fi users.
"Illidan, don't be too aggressive, cooperate!"
"Tch! Who cares what you say."
Facts proved that a lone-wolf style attack could not pose a sufficient threat to Kiljaeden.
Even though he had expended a lot of power earlier blocking the Planet Destroyer Cannon, Kiljaeden's combat strength had not plummeted dramatically.
Sensing the killing intent from behind him, the deceiver pretended to be oblivious. Just as Illidan's attack was about to strike, Kiljaeden's figure dissolved into an afterimage.
Appearing from Illidan's flank, Kiljaeden took advantage of Illidan's look of surprise and heavily blasted him away with a Fel Energy-infused claw.
The Demon Hunter was sent flying far away in the zero-gravity cosmos, and it seemed he would not be able to return to the battlefield anytime soon.
"Arrogant idiot!"
Ignoring the impulse to continue scolding Illidan, Andreas braced himself and fought the deceiver face-to-face.
There was no gravity in space, and Andreas was still somewhat unaccustomed to fighting here for the first time. Attacks that previously relied on gravity for acceleration now required manually added force.
Kiljaeden also rarely fought others physically in space. While the Thousand Soul Shadow continued to erode Velen's defensive barrier, he engaged Andreas in close-quarters combat.
Andreas, holding a staff, looked like a spellcaster. According to the records of the Burning Legion, although Speaker Moonshadow occasionally charged into enemy formations with a sword, his swordsmanship was not considered masterful.
Considering the conventional situation, attacking a mage up close was definitely the correct choice.
Andreas was indeed flustered initially when Kiljaeden used seasoned mental techniques for close combat.
'Isn't the deceiver a mage type? Why is his close combat ability so strong?'
Infusing Fel Energy into his claws, every one of Kiljaeden's attacks carried both physical and magical damage.
To counter the deceiver's magical attacks, Andreas also activated the light blade of the Staff of Ganir while simultaneously injecting Shadow Power into the sword of the dark empire.
The two energies, completely opposite in nature, left Kiljaeden somewhat flustered. He had never witnessed such a strange phenomenon before.
Holy Light Power was grand and imposing. The light blade, which restrained Fel Energy, created dazzling light and shadow effects as it swept through the air, forcing Kiljaeden to meet it head-on.
Meanwhile, the long sword in Andreas' left hand was imbued with strong mental attacks capable of affecting the soul; the slightest lapse in attention could result in being influenced.
Requiring different responses for each hand, Kiljaeden was temporarily unable to gauge Andreas' true capabilities, allowing Andreas to pass through the most difficult adjustment period.
After becoming slightly familiar with the deceiver's attack patterns, Andreas began to counterattack.
The light blade in his right hand suddenly shifted from gold to purplish-black. As expected, Kiljaeden, whose thought process was not quick enough to adapt, was hit. For a brief moment, his eyes showed a daze caused by the mental attack of the Shadow Power.
"A chance!"
He temporarily tossed the sword of the dark empire into the zero-gravity cosmos, pulled a short pistol from his waist, and abruptly fired energy scattershot infused with a massive amount of Holy Light Power.
Kiljaeden raised his hand at the crucial moment to block this point-blank shot to his face. Most of the energy pellets were stopped by his right claw, but a few stragglers still managed to injure Kiljaeden's face.
The high-concentration Holy Light penetrated the Fel Energy shield on Kiljaeden's body, leaving visible scorched burn marks on his red skin.
'Tch! Too bad it wasn't a fatal blow.'
Since this unexpected sneak attack failed the first time, it would not be so easy to succeed again.
Several consecutive Holy Light scattershots continued to blast toward Kiljaeden, but this time they failed to cause any effective damage. The enraged Kiljaeden defended against all attacks flawlessly.
Crossing his claws, Kiljaeden slashed out a green cross of death. Andreas quickly sidestepped to dodge while beginning to adjust the pistol's output mode.
A condensed beam of light shot out from the muzzle. The linear, penetrating attack pierced Kiljaeden's defenses, leaving a conspicuous hole in his shoulder.
The endless stream of strange attack patterns completely infuriated Kiljaeden. He flapped his wings and retreated, attempting to gain distance and kill Andreas instantly with a large-scale spell.
But by this time, Illidan had flown back from afar. The thrown warglaives of azzinoth collided in mid-air, spinning at an odd angle to attack the defensive blind spots above Kiljaeden's head and below his feet.
Simultaneously, Velen finally defended against all the attacks of Thousand Soul Shadow. Without time to catch his breath, the prophet swung his staff to construct Holy Light chains, completely binding Kiljaeden's left hand.
Although he used his right claw to knock away one of Illidan's warglaives, he was powerless to stop the other one attacking from below.
The sharp warglaive of azzinoth sliced a shallow wound across Kiljaeden's chest and abdomen. Green blood droplets flew from the injury and floated in space.
Had he not instinctively dodged at the last moment, Kiljaeden would have been severely wounded.
Although he was keen to use this hard-won opportunity to capture Velen, Kiljaeden was not Archimonde; he did not lose his head completely, even in the middle of a fight.
Calmly assessing that the current situation was unfavorable, he broke free from Velen's chain restraints, gave the prophet a reluctant glance, and decisively flew toward the approaching *the deceiver* starship.
Pulling back Illidan, who still wanted to pursue, Andreas shook his head and said, "No need to chase. Do you want to get hit by the starship's main cannon?"
"This time we were lucky to weaken the deceiver's combat strength using a mutually destructive maneuver. If we continue to press him relentlessly, the situation could easily reverse. Don't underestimate him."
Just as Andreas said, the heavily damaged *the deceiver* starship turned its remaining turrets toward their location. It was clear that the turrets were fully charged and ready to fire.
"Tch!"
Illidan clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Then let's retreat. Our objective has been achieved anyway."
"You had best clean up the trash within Azeroth quickly. I will be waiting for your reinforcements to arrive at the counter-attack front."
Long before the final showdown with Kil'jaeden began, Illidan had already made his arrangements; with Khadgar's help he funneled his core troops through one of Draenor's rifts to another world.
Illidan never named the planet, but Andreas' memoranda let him guess its identity.
It was the broken world Sargeras—back when he was still a bronze Titan—first used as a demonic prison, and later the cradle of the Burning Legion: Mardum.
Watching Illidan vanish into the spatial corridor he'd opened with the scepter of sargeras and the Skull of Go'el, Andreas and Velen wove wings of Holy Light and fled just before Kil'jaeden's flagship fired.
Back aboard his flagship, gravity restored, Kil'jaeden's fel-laced blood began spurting from his wounds.
"Lord Kil'jaeden! Are you all right?"
An Eredar officer, panicking, tried to staunch the flow; he had never before seen the deceiver hurt.
"I'm fine."
Kil'jaeden's face was gloomy, yet he did not vent his frustration over the failed calculation on his subordinate.
Once the bleeding stopped, Kil'jaeden strode to the bridge and asked for damage reports.
"My lord, over ninety percent of our fel warships were destroyed in the enemy's suicidal assault; apart from our heavily damaged flagship, only three still have mobility."
The Eredar captain asked cautiously, "Shall we continue the pursuit?"
"No need."
Velen had already vanished from sight. Kil'jaeden settled back onto his throne and ordered calmly, "Set course for Argus. I will personally bear Sargeras' punishment."
A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he added, "And I intend to ask him exactly what became of the reinforcements he promised."
…When Andreas and Velen reached the Dark Portal by following its energy fluctuations, only the base still hovered stubbornly in the air; the demons that had assaulted it were gone.
The Naaru Nethergarde Keep hung above the portal, clearly waiting for their return.
Instead of boarding, Andreas waved to the ship's sensors and dived straight into the Dark Portal.
Back on Azeroth, the vacuum-like silence shattered into a clamour of voices urging refugees away from the gateway.
Once the last Prison Ship had returned, Andreas and Velen exchanged glances and nodded in unison.
Velen pressed his free left hand to Andreas' back, channeling Holy Light into him.
Via the tear of Elune, the vast tide of Light was transmuted into Shadow.
The instant Khadgar, Rhonin and the rest received the signal and shut the Dark Portal, an upgraded Collapsing Star—black-hole-like—appeared in the frame.
Its immense pull warped the gateway's heavy structure, groaning under the strain; empowered by two Demigods, the Dark Portal that had stood in the Blasted Lands for over twenty years finally met its end.
Most of the remaining structure was swallowed into unknown space, leaving less than half of the battered base still hovering.
"Whew—"
Letting out a soft sigh, Andreas and Velen descended from the sky.
The motley crowd in the Blasted Lands fell silent, awed by the force that had toppled the mighty portal.
"Hm?"
Andreas looked up to see half-baked Fel Orcs skirmishing with the Night Elves.
"Here too? Should have nothing to do with Illidan, right?"
Before anyone could answer, Celeste—teleported in unnoticed—slipped her arms around his waist and pressed herself to his back.
"I knew you'd come back safe."
"Didn't I promise I would?" Andreas gently patted her still-trembling hands. "You're still over-thinking everything."
…With the Draenor expeditionary army home, the Thunderlord and Blackrock uprising was quickly crushed.
Thunderlord chieftain Fenris and self-proclaimed Warchief Rend were trussed up like pretzels and dumped before Andreas, who was questioning Niana and Jarod about Azeroth's upheavals.
"Garona, huh…"
Andreas exclaimed, half-surprised, half-enlightened. "So Kil'jaeden's fallback was her—but…"
He rubbed his chin, puzzled, then glanced at Garona kneeling with bound hands. "Why would Sargeras bother with such a half-baked scheme? Doesn't sound like the Fallen Titan I know."
Niana shrugged. "That's what I can't figure out either. It's as if Sargeras deliberately slacked off on Kil'jaeden, but that makes no sense."
Andreas' eyes flickered. Could it be…
He shelved the thought for now; if his guess were true, Kil'jaeden's return to Argus would be anything but pleasant.
The two incomplete Fel Orcs dumped before him still refused to yield—especially Rend, looking as if no one on earth could tell him he wasn't the true Warchief.
"Shhk!"
Andreas, unwilling to waste words on the talentless fool, sliced the air with two fingers; an invisible blade lopped off Rend's head, the half-red, half-green blood spraying Fenris from head to toe.
"Niana, drag this non-recyclable trash away and burn it."
"Yes, sir."
Crouching before Fenris, Andreas asked with a smile, "Chieftain Fenris, do you want to die like that waste of space?"
"Hah—ptui!"
Bound hand and foot, Fenris spat a glob of phlegm at Andreas; mid-air it rebounded on some unseen force and landed back on his own face.
"No creativity at all."
Andreas shook his head in disappointment. "Knew you'd go for that tired move."
Fenris thrashed in humiliation, his knotted muscles clanking the chains.
"Alliance lapdog! Kill me if you dare!"
Leticia expressionlessly stomped his head to the ground, only releasing her athletic leg when Andreas signalled.
"First, let me correct your mistake."
Using Shadow Energy, Andreas lifted Fenris' blood-streaked head. "Night Elves are not the Alliance's lapdogs; when the external threat is gone, divergences and disputes will surface soon enough."
"Second, I'm wasting words only because you're a Fel Orc with decent combat and command skills—treasure the life you've still got."
Though Andreas wore a gentle smile, Fenris felt a piercing, overwhelming threat—
as if the thing crouched before him were not a humanoid but a dangerous Gronn… or worse.
"Two choices."
Andreas rose, ticking off a finger. "One: throw your life away like Rend, worthless."
"Two: I send you to your Fel Orc kin so you can fight demons till your last breath."
Ten seconds—give me your answer."
The reason Fenris gave up his identity as the heir of the Frostwolf Clan to join the Stormforged Clan was to seek more battles that could prove his worth.
He did not possess the unparalleled combat strength among Orcs like Grom, but his Mad Dog Fighting Style gave even Grom a headache.
Moreover, compared to the single-minded Hellscream, Fenris had the intelligence inherited from the Frostwolf lineage and possessed decent command capabilities on the battlefield.
After causing this farce, Fenris and his Stormforged Clan had no place left in Azeroth. It was better to utilize these Fel Orc remnants and toss them to Illidan, allowing them to play their final role in the fight against the Burning Legion.
Fenris hesitated only briefly before choosing the second option. Andreas immediately used the Teleportation Beacon Illidan had given him to open a one-time spatial channel leading to Mardum.
Regardless of how furious Illidan was that Andreas had used up the only Beacon, the tension at the scene immediately eased after the remaining Orcs of the Stormforged Clan and the Blackrock Clan were sent away from Azeroth.
Antonidas excitedly grabbed Khadgar's hand. He never expected that Khadgar, who had long been presumed dead, would stage a hero's return. Now he no longer had to worry about the future of Dalaran.
Even excluding Rhonin, Jaina and Khadgar were capable of supporting the Kirin Tor Council.
Furthermore, Khadgar had little interest in power, making him the best assistant for Jaina, the successor chosen by Antonidas.
"Speaker Moonshadow, on behalf of the Kirin Tor Council, I sincerely thank you for bringing Khadgar back from the edge of the Abyss of Death."
Andreas quickly helped up the trembling Antonidas. Although this Old Mage, who had given everything for Dalaran, had made many mistakes, his consistent devotion deserved everyone's respect.
"Master Antonidas, you exaggerate. I merely did what was convenient; Khadgar's survival was entirely due to his own efforts."
This was the plain truth. Andreas hadn't even met Khadgar during his time in Draenor.
Khadgar had been guarding the Zangarmarsh and Shattrath front line, and among the Alliance Expeditionary Force, Kurdran and Danath were the ones who had interacted with him more often.
Speaking of Kurdran and Danath, both were currently enjoying reunions with their own kin.
Dwarves are passionate people. Flightmaster, the Wildhammer King, cried loudly while embracing his battle-worn returning brother, though the tears were mostly of relief and happiness.
Thoras was more reserved compared to Flightmaster. With red eyes, he held Danath' hand and was filled with emotion as he looked at his nephew's familiar receding hairline.
Thoras was completely disappointed in his useless son, Gallin. That worthless fellow was clearly unable to support the entire Kingdom of Stromgarde after his death.
Danath' return was perfectly timed. With his assistance, it could at least ensure that Gallin would not make too many ridiculous and idiotic decisions.
Thoras had even considered letting Danath succeed the throne, but this fleeting idea had not yet fully formed.
Among the four members who led the Expeditionary Force to counterattack Draenor, only Turalyon failed to return successfully, which Varian found deeply regrettable.
Turalyon had taken great care of him when he was young, and due to Turalyon's master-apprentice relationship with Anduin Lothar, he held considerable goodwill toward the Kingdom of Stormwind.
When the Kingdom of Stormwind was rebuilt, Turalyon, as the Alliance military commander, provided significant assistance. It was a pity he didn't return alive from Draenor.
Varian looked warily at the refugees arriving from Draenor, which included previously unseen races like the Arakkoa and Tiger-men, and even the Mag'har Orcs, who were eyed fiercely by the Alliance.
"Speaker Moonshadow, these refugees from Draenor... how do you plan to settle them?"
From Varian's perspective, he did not want these foreign races settled in the crowded Eastern Kingdoms, a view shared by all Alliance nations.
The seasoned Andreas instantly saw through what the young King Varian was thinking, and he chuckled, "Don't worry, I plan to take them back to Kalimdor."
"There is still an unclaimed area between the Azshara Region and The Barrens, and there are many unclaimed deserted islands around the continent of Kalimdor. We can let them choose then."
The unclaimed land Andreas referred to was the desolate red earth that was supposed to be named Durotar.
Because it was too barren, neither the Tauren nor the Night Elves had much interest in it. Only a few Quilboar had settled there, along with a Jungle Trolls Clan—the darkspear trolls—who had migrated from Stranglethorn Vale after failing in an internal conflict.
Since Go'el did not choose to head to Kalimdor when he led the Horde across the sea from the Eastern Kingdoms, he naturally never encountered the darkspear trolls.
After some trials and tribulations at sea, the Darkspear Clan successfully reached Kalimdor, but their chieftain, Sen'jin, was killed by the Naga during the crossing. The one who succeeded him as chieftain was his son, the young Voljin.
Much of Kalimdor's land was already claimed; only the barren red earth of Durotar remained unwanted.
After settling locally, the darkspear trolls kept a very low profile, and the Night Elves and Tauren were too lazy to drive them away.
As for the unclaimed deserted islands, there were even more.
For example, Azuremyst Isle and Bloodmyst Isle, where the Draenei were supposed to settle, and the large island where the Night Elves were supposed to plant the World Tree Teldrassil, and so on.
"As for these Orcs..."
Andreas looked toward the Mag'har Orcs. Due to years of capture by Illidan and Jarod's defection, the current Mag'har Orc population barely exceeded one hundred thousand.
"Hand them over to Go'el's New Horde for management."
Andreas hadn't originally intended to bring these Mag'har Orcs back. They had, by chance, encountered the soft-hearted Khadgar in Zangarmarsh and were brought back to Azeroth with him.
Since they had already been brought over, Andreas felt it would be inappropriate to kill them all right then and there. He simply tossed them to Go'el to handle. Perhaps they could serve as a sharp dagger during the future counterattack on Argus... Draenor, which had struggled for survival for many years, finally "died of old age," and most of the remaining Draenor refugees were brought back by the Azeroth Expeditionary Force.
Go'el, notified by the Highborne, set aside the gravely ill Orgrim and hurriedly led High Warlord Saurfang the Great to teleport over from Borean Tundra.
The unexpected father-son reunion brought tears to the eyes of Saurfang the Great, who was known for being stoic. Go'el was also pleasantly surprised to learn that his grandmother, Gaya'an, was still alive.
Gaya'an, whose eyes were almost completely blind, wept tears of joy. She never expected to see her grown grandson at the end of her life, and that Go'el was now the Warchief of the Horde, taking over Durotan's unfinished business and leading the Orcs back onto the right path.
Both the Alliance and the Horde rejoiced over the unexpected reunions. Andreas also received good news from Garrond and hurriedly prepared to return to Astranaar.
Shandris, who had been in seclusion for a long time, finally woke up recently. Aurora temporarily put aside her duties as ambassador in Quel'Thalas and returned to Astranaar to reunite with her mother.
When Andreas and Celeste tossed the remaining administrative duties to Tyrande and rushed back to the Moonshadow Family manor, Shandris, who had not yet received the news, was habitually lecturing her daughter, though a faint smile played on her face.
"Your progress in strength is too slow. You've been slacking off in Quel'Thalas these past few years... haven't you?"
The abrupt sound of the door opening interrupted Shandris' reprimand. Andreas and Celeste, weary from travel, rushed forward and hugged Shandis tightly.
Andreas sensed a familiar, similar aura emanating from Shandris—a blessing originating from the moon goddess Elune.
"Congratulations, and welcome back."
Under Aurora's playful gaze, Shandris reached out and embraced her family, a warm smile spreading across her face.
"You two worked hard too. Welcome back."