"Let's go, it's time to enjoy Sylvanas's performance," Khadgar said with interest.
Chen Stormstout's expression was somewhat strange, looking puzzled. Khadgar explained:
"Although I am loyal to Imperator Mar'gok, I am still a member of Azeroth, and I do not want Ogres to become the masters of this world."
The two teleported to Theramore, where a large number of Lightforging Orcs Theramore Island still engaged in a life-or-death struggle. However, the Holy Light within them could no longer Pain Suppression the eerie and dark aura of death, and they would soon collapse to the ground, weakened, after fighting for only a short time.
At the bottom of the crater, the Holy Light's Gate flickered with golden light, like a lone boat in a raging storm, poised to capsize at any moment.
A black airship appeared in the sky above Theramore. On the deck, Taran Zhu sat in a chair, looking down at Theramore, which was filled with the aura of death.
Behind Taran Zhu, Sylvanas, wearing a collar, stood ramrod straight, like a javelin, her eyes filled with confusion.
Taran Zhu conjured a ball of Chi in his palm and spoke in a reminiscing tone:
"Long ago, I learned martial arts at the Shado-Pan Monastery and became close friends with the Sha of Madness. He told me that one day, I would fight to save Azeroth."
Having said that, Taran Zhu stood up, her gaze somewhat complicated. "Even Chen Stormstout can become heroes, I thought I would live as a scoundrel. This is probably Destiny. No matter how many mistakes I've made in my life, today I have a clear conscience. Sylvanas, let's begin."
Sylvanas pursed her lips and jumped off the airship with a blank expression. Her slender body plummeted straight down as she desperately absorbed the dark aura of death. Once the aura of death within her was dense enough, she successfully floated in the air, her long sleeves fluttering, and began to dance gracefully.
This is a mysterious dance passed down by the Draenei Amado, known as the Dance of Death. The Queen's graceful dance moves draw in a vast amount of Power of Death, swirling around her and forming a death tornado that reaches the heavens and the earth. Countless Corpses on the ground rot and fall away, and countless bones come to life, their skulls opening and closing as they dance with Her Majesty the Queen.
More and more skeletons joined the dance of death; Theramore was filled with dancing skeletons—a grand ball of the Undead.
Taran Zhu waved his hand and said, "Play the music."
On the airship, a Pandaren band began to play, their cheerful music filling the air. On the ground, the skeletons danced wildly, and a dense aura of death formed a venomous serpent that coiled around the Holy Light's Gate.
Khadgar whispered, "Well done. Once the Holy Light's Gate is corrupted by the Power of Death, it's as if the portal is sealed off."
Chen Stormstout asked, "I know the space in Theramore is weak, but why is the Power of Death so necessary?"
Khadgar explained, "Elemental, Holy Light, Nature, and Fel can all be used for teleportation, but the teleportation magic of death is extremely complex. Apart from the Scourge back then, no one in Azeroth can use the Power of Death to teleport. I have also tried to study it, but unfortunately, I am far from being able to do so."
Chen Stormstout understood. "So as long as Theramore is filled with the aura of death, it becomes a barrier to prevent teleportation."
Khadgar shook his head and said, "It's not that simple. Theramore must become an eternal realm of death. Besides Sylvanas, I don't know who else can do it."
The serpent of death danced to the music, and the aura of the Holy Light's Gate dimmed.
As Sylvanas danced, countless Runes fell, forming black ribbons that wrapped around the Gates of Death.
"Death Space Seal." Khadgar clicked his tongue in amazement, staring intently. "This Amado is truly formidable; I wonder where he learned that."
Chen Stormstout scoffed, "The Draenei have wandered the stars for tens of thousands of years; given their talent, it shouldn't be difficult for them."
Before long, the Power of Death condensed into a dark cloud that covered the sky. In this extreme darkness, spiderweb-like Spatial Rifts appeared above Theramore. The Focusing Iris destroyed the space of Theramore, and no one knew where these rifts led.
Suddenly, a tall figure burst out of the crack—a skeletal Troll with fangs and a crown, riding on the back of a velociraptor.
"Gurubashi Emperor is here. I command you to cease your actions. You cannot do this, for the sake of Azeroth."
The raptor rider, stepping through the Void and wielding a long spear, charged swiftly towards Sylvanas.
Khadgar was secretly alarmed and growled, "The ancient Troll emperor has been reborn by the Power of Death, and they must stop this ritual."
"Gurubashi Emperor, your opponent is me."
Taran Zhu jumped down from the sky, carrying a wine barrel on his back, and staggered over, unleashing the Shado-Pan Fist to firmly entangle Gurubashi Emperor.
Another figure burst out of the rift—a Troll riding a ghostly wyvern, also wearing a crown on its head.
"Amani Emperor is here! Cease your attack, you ignorant ants!"
Several Pandaren experts jumped out of the airship, but unfortunately they were no match for Taran Zhu and were instantly defeated by the Winged Dragon Knights.
Chen Stormstout, whispered, "Take me upstairs."
Khadgar paused, then asked, "Are you really sure?"
"The two Troll emperors have arrived, are we Pandaren inferior?" Chen Stormstout, unconvinced.
"Okay, I'll take you up."
Khadgar pointed his staff, Chen Stormstout teleported him onto the back of the Spectral Wyvern.
"Come on, you little Troll, you shouldn't have been reborn." Chen Stormstout unleashed his Wind, Fire, Thunder, and Lightning magic as he charged toward Amani Emperor.
"Why is this happening? How did these ancient emperors come back to life?"
Krasus clutched the golden orb given to him by the Red Dragon Queen, gazing in bewilderment at the great battle in the sky, then spread his wings, eager to join in.
Robbie cast a spell in the shadows, and several figures, about to rush out of the rift, were instead controlled by Robbie and sent back along the rift. Among these resurrected emperors were Murlocs, Furbolg, Harpies, Kobolds, Lobstrok, and so on, all of whom were great emperors who had made a name for themselves in Azeroth during a certain period of history.
These rifts all lead to one place: an Island in the Eternal Sea, where a Draenei skeleton mage, shrouded in a black cloak and exuding an aura of death, is casting a spell.
"Prophet Velen." Robbie frowned.
This Island is located near the Maelstrom of the Eternal Sea. The surrounding waters are extremely dangerous and are shrouded in black mist all year round. It does not appear on any sea chart.
The Island is filled with countless coffins, all belonging to great emperors who were once prominent figures in the history of Azeroth. Their remains have become someone's collection.
The seven imperial skeletons returned and, under Robbie's control, fought Velen. Velen was overwhelmed and unable to cast spells in time.
"Fool, you can't even handle this simple matter. What use are you now that I've resurrected you?"
The sea parted, and a Proto-Dragon with golden bones burst from the water, spewing out a dark Dragon's Breath. The skeletons of seven emperors fell silently.
The golden skeletal dragon was small, about the size of Whelps. It carefully picked up the bones and placed them into the coffin.
"This is one of my most treasured collectibles. Can you afford to pay for it if you damage it? You good-for-nothing."
Yuan Long glared angrily at Velen, his eyes wide with fury, and shouted:
"Weak Velen, the most pathetic and incompetent emperor in the collection, it's your turn to make your appearance."