How many mysteries does time hold?
This allows Nozdormu to interpret time at will.
Neltharion, the Black Dragon King, had suspected more than once that Nozdormu was merely a user of time, and that he didn't understand the principles of time travel, let alone the structure and composition of time.
The reason is that Nozdormu's descriptions of time are often self-contradictory.
Today we say time is a river, tomorrow it becomes a net; today we say changing history will have no impact, tomorrow we say time travel will lead to the destruction of Azeroth.
Nozdormu always seemed to have a lot of sense, and he could always confidently spout a bunch of fallacies.
To everyone's surprise, Nozdormu was actually challenged by a Dryad. Neltharion almost burst out laughing, but he managed to maintain a serious expression with great effort. He was the emotionless Black Dragon King, and he couldn't break character.
"What did you say?"
Nozdormu was enraged, spewing out a golden breath aimed at the poor Dryad.
In the minds of many Dragonkin, Nozdormu was always calm and rarely got angry, but once he did, he was extremely bloodthirsty and no one could stop him.
The Dryad's body quickly collapsed, turning into golden sand that flowed all over the ground. Its clothes fell to the ground, and the weapon wrapped in cloth on its back fell to the ground, making a sound that didn't sound like metal.
A curious Red Dragon breathed out a Flame, burning away the cloth strips on the weapon and revealing its true form.
This is a bright green axe with a wide, glowing green blade that is extremely sharp. It doesn't have the luster of metal; the material looks like some kind of wood.
"The Oak Axe of the Emerald Dream."
Ysera looked at it familiarly, exhaled a Dragon's Breath to blow away the dust on the axe, and then examined it closely in her hand:
"That's right, it's the Oak Axe from the Emerald Dream, which should have belonged to a noble Emissary. Malorne told me that a treacherous thief stole the Oak Axe."
The Red Dragon Queen frowned, a glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes. "So the Dryad is a thief?"
Ysera nodded. "A deeply hidden, despicable thief."
Nozdormu was filled with regret for his impulsive killing of the Dryad. Eager to save face, he shook his head and said, "No wonder, he was just a thief. His words are worthless. Forget about him."
Ysera, worried about being associated with thieves, echoed Nozdormu's words:
"Look what we've done! We've been so easily fooled by the nonsense of a mere thief. My fellow countrymen, have you forgotten the treacherous Demons? They constantly deceive us with all sorts of alarmist lies, reminding me of the damned Burning Legion."
Neltharion, the Black Dragon King, coughed and reminded him:
"Ysera, don't forget, the Burning Legion is now an ally of the Mount Hyjal Resistance."
Ysera smacked her head repeatedly and laughed, "Look at my memory, I've said the wrong thing again. The thief must have been sent by Queen Azshara; the Queen Mastery all sorts of cunning magic."
Ysera's reminder also inspired Nozdormu. He looked at Krasus and Rhonin, deliberately feigning confusion:
"I see. I noticed the strange magical fluctuations emanating from you two long ago. It turns out it was Queen Azshara's scheme. Alexstrasza, Malygos, you need not worry. The Blue Dragonflight nearly being wiped out, the enslavement by the Orcs ten thousand years later, and the continent being torn apart—it's all Azshara's magic that has influenced our two distinguished guests, giving them false memories."
It was a baseless guess, but it suited the Red Dragon Queen's wishes and salvaged her reputation. The Red Dragon Queen laughed exaggeratedly:
"Nozdormu, you discovered it too late. My partner and I are of one mind; we knew he was under magical influence all along. Everything I did was to find out the truth. Nozdormu, you really shouldn't have killed the Dryad. We still don't know who sent him here. Only the five of us know the location of the Dragon King's Sanctum."
Nozdormu readily complied, shaking his head regretfully, "Oh dear, I didn't think it through."
Neltharion watched this farce with indifference. All living beings shared the same wishful thinking, including the Red Dragon Queen. Although she was skeptical about what would happen in the future, she was certain that she could avoid it.
The overconfident Red Dragon Queen contrasted sharply with the melancholy Aspect of the Blue Malygos, who appeared remarkably rational.
"There is a traitor among us," Ysera's sharp voice rang out. "I suggest we find the traitor and punish him properly, rather than worrying about the Demon Soul."
The Red Dragon Queen nodded. "That's right, but unfortunately I have no evidence. Everything I've done is to find the traitor."
Nozdormu sighed, "Alexstrasza, you are always so merciful, but when it comes to the safety of the Dragonkin, evidence is no longer important. Whoever the Dryad is helping is a traitor."
As soon as the words were spoken, the Red Dragon Queen, Green Dragon Ysera, Nozdormu all looked at Neltharion.
Neltharion was unafraid. The Black Dragonflight's current strength far surpassed that of the other Dragonkin. He was confident he could handle even if the four Dragonflights joined forces. In his eyes, the actions of the three Dragon Kings were childish. Strength was everything.
Malygos stepped in to smooth things over. "Come on, there's no traitor at all. Perhaps in ten thousand years, the Dragon King's Sanctum won't be a secret anymore. Even Nozdormu can't say for sure about the passage of time."
Without a word, Malygos retorted to Nozdormu, and before he could retort, he raised his claw and opened a Portal to the Blue Dragonflight settlement:
"I think we should call it a day. Continuing to argue won't get us anywhere. Children, let's go home."
Neltharion also prepared to leave, glancing around at the three Dragon Kings before finally fixing his gaze on the Red Dragon Queen:
"If you truly care about the Dragonkin, tell us everything. Don't deliberately hide anything. I don't object to your ambitions, but please put the interests of the Dragonkin first."
Having said that, he ignored the furious and innocuous Red Dragon Queen, opened Portal, and the Black Dragonflight left the Dragon King's Sanctum.
This grand gathering of the Dragonkin ultimately ended without result.
Through the Portal, Rhonin followed Krasus back to the Emerald Dream. The two, one human and one dragon, said nothing; they were good friends. Although Rhonin's performance today was somewhat unsatisfactory, it was still considered average.
In a fairly comfortable room, Rhonin drifted off to sleep.
In his dream, Rhonin was with his wife Vereesa, living in a large house facing the sea, where spring was always in the air. It might be Silvermoon City or Stormwind City; Rhonin didn't care.
The two embraced, gazing at the calm sea, the blue sky and white clouds, with Seagulls occasionally flying by.
Suddenly, it got dark, and Rhonin saw Jaina, dressed in a black dress. Rhonin recognized it as her funeral attire.
"You've come too." Jaina greeted Rhonin. The dream instantly shifted, and the two found themselves at a funeral, watching the ornate coffin fall into the tomb, surrounded by a chilling, eerie atmosphere.
"Whose funeral is it?" Rhonin asked.
Jaina said regretfully, "A great mage, his name was Rhonin."
What?
The coffin had been opened at some point, and Rhonin saw himself inside.
The world froze in that moment, completely still.
Rhonin realized he was in a dream, but he had never experienced a dream that could be paused.
"This is your nightmare, isn't it?"
A voice rang in Rhonin's ear.