"Who is the real mastermind behind this?" Bwonsamdi asked, his face dark. For a schemer, being manipulated by others is a terrible feeling.
"The Blackhand is Elune, ten thousand years from now," Robbie replied.
Walking Death in the gray fog, fell silent, and Bwonsamdi also fell into thought.
"Therefore you should understand that helping Queen Azshara is helping yourselves," Robbie emphasized.
"For Azeroth," the Walking Death whispered.
"For my princess bride!" Bwonsamdi raised his voice, trying to make it sound more powerful.
At this moment, the magical clash between Azshara City and the Moon Goddess had been going on for quite some time. With the Five Dragonflights and the Burning Legion watching from the sidelines, both sides suddenly stopped almost simultaneously.
Mannoroth found it strange; in the realm of magic, Pit Lords had always been a weak point. He seized the opportunity to ask Archimonde, "Great master, why did they stop?"
Archimonde, the headmaster of the Sargeras Void Academy, loved to lecture and explained leisurely:
"Frequent spellcasting weakens the space, and Azshara and Elune have mastered this perfectly. If more magic is cast, it will cause the Void to collapse, and no one knows what the consequences will be."
The Moon Goddess's tens of thousands of tentacles clashed with the hundreds of thousands of Mages in Azshara City, with tens of thousands of spells exploding simultaneously, creating a tremendous impact on space.
Although Queen Azshara possesses the ability to repair space, she finds it difficult to use it in such a tense battle.
Another consequence of the magical clash was that the meticulously crafted network of Spatial Rifts woven by the many mages of Azshara City shattered, becoming utterly devastated under the immense power of magic. The moon remained immobile, but it was now able to extend tentacles from the massive hole.
"Haha, you lost, Azshara."
A smug smile spread across the statue-like face, "You can no longer cast spells, or the space will collapse, and the tiny Azshara City will be destroyed even faster than the vast moon."
"Is this your conspiracy?"
Queen Azshara remained seated on her throne, eyes closed in meditation, conversing only with the Moon Goddess through perfect illusions.
"You are ultimately just a lowly Night Elf." The statue-like face sneered, "Your fragile bodies are your weakness. Compared to an Old Gods, I possess an incomparably powerful physique."
Tens of thousands of tentacles stretched out and coiled around the Azshara City.
"This is the moment I've been waiting for, Elune, or rather, Xal'atath, the Old Gods. Without magic, there is no chance of anything unexpected happening. You are doomed to lose, and you will never have another chance to win."
The Highborne of Azshara City voluntarily withdrew the Spatial Rift network. At the same time, the Well of Eternity suddenly erupted, and a massive mass of tentacles appeared in the air—tens of thousands of tentacles, originating from the body of the Old Gods N'Zoth.
Driven by the magic of the Well of Eternity, the Old Gods N'Zoth became enormous, with tens of thousands of thick tentacles enveloping the entire moon. From the ground, the originally white moonlight gradually dimmed, and the shadow of the tentacles shrouded the moon's radiance.
"What a madman," Archimonde cursed. "N'Zoth isn't dead yet, and Azshara has made his body so powerful. Isn't she afraid N'Zoth will take back control of her body?"
In terms of length and thickness, Moon Goddess's tentacles were clearly inferior. N'Zoth's tentacles seemed to have spinning blades, constantly severing Moon Goddess's tentacles. Each tentacle also had a large mouth, devouring Moon Goddess's flesh and blood.
"No, no, this shouldn't be happening, N'Zoth, damn it, this can't be, Tyrande, Ysera, don't forget our deal."
Tyrande, wielding the Demon Soul, gazed at the Green Dragon Ysera.
Ysera was completely innocent; N'Zoth was safely sealed deep within the Emerald Dream, which meant he was to be released.
In the Emerald Dream.
Rhonin and Krasus were originally together. Although Krasus was a member of the Red Dragons, he did not have a place among the Dragonkin in ancient times.
Krasus, concerned about the Destiny of the Dragonkin, was constantly troubled. He sought out White Stag Malorne Malorne, who led him to the Dream Crystal in the Emerald Dream, from where he could watch Azshara's battle against Elune.
While Krasus was focused on the great battle between the two sides, Rhonin cast an illusion in his place and secretly left. He heard N'Zoth's call.
Rhonin found a safe place, cast Sleep Spell on himself, and quickly fell asleep.
In the dream, N'Zoth's tentacles quickly appeared beside Rhonin. N'Zoth, who wielded the Nightmare power, directly recreated the great battle between the Moon Goddess and Queen Azshara in the dream.
Rhonin found himself in the center of the Battlefield, his vision incredibly clear, able to see the Dragonkin and the Burning Legion below, and also clearly see the three faces of the Moon Goddess.
Tens of thousands of tentacles were battling, and two Old Gods were fighting with brute force.
"Rhonin, this is a life-or-death battle that will determine the future of Azeroth. Whether the mysterious End Time come depends on the outcome of this battle. You need to help me." N'Zoth's voice was more serious than ever before.
"How can I help you? You are an Old Gods!" Rhonin said with difficulty.
N'Zoth said helplessly:
"Most of my soul is sealed deep within the Emerald Dream, and the power that can emerge is limited. Queen Azshara is using my body to fight against the Elune, and she has the upper hand. The Moon Goddess will definitely release my soul to interfere with Azshara. You are my secret weapon. Don't underestimate your abilities; Mages can create miracles."
"Okay, I'll do my best." Rhonin was a little unsure of himself.
"It's alright. I'll teach you how when necessary. Now, open your mind. Don't worry, I won't spy on your memories; those are a living being's most precious Wealth. I want to know what magic you know. An Old Gods spying on you is something you can't do anything about, but we're friends, so I need your permission."
"At this point, what other choice do I have?"
Rhonin felt helpless; he was constantly being manipulated by Destiny, yet he was powerless to change it.
An eye opened at the tip of a tentacle, carefully examining Rhonin's brain:
"Oh, not bad, very insightful. So this is human magic? I see. Human magic originated from the Elves. Although in your time, most of the Highborne's magical heritage has been lost, and without the magic of the Well of Eternity, you cannot cast many spells, human creativity in spellcasting techniques is astonishing."
"Rhonin, your magical skills are far more extensive than I imagined. Our chances of success have increased significantly. Now, wake up quickly, they're about to make their move."
Krasus stared wide-eyed at White Stag Malorne, in bewilderment:
"What? N'Zoth is sealed deep within the Emerald Dream? He is the Nightmare himself! We must release him! Wait, why am I involved?"
White Stag Malorne was very anxious. He had received Ysera's orders: there were many powerful beings in the Emerald Dream, but unfortunately, few knew magic. White Deer frowned and said:
"There's no time. All the Dragonkin are on the Battlefield, and we can only mobilize a limited force. You're Dragonkin mage, and so are your friend Rhonin. With your help, it should be enough. I hope we make it in time, for Azeroth."