Eternal Dominion and the Sudden Onset of Disaster

Disaster had finally descended.

The capital of the Night Elves, Eldorei—this once magnificently radiant colossal city—was now shrouded in an atmosphere of oppression and terror.

The sky, once bright, was now weighed down by dark clouds through which no light could pierce, and from time to time, streaks of fel-green lightning flickered within them.

The bustling streets lay cold and deserted; every household had bolted its doors, trembling in their fragile shelters.

The grand gates of the palace stood wide open, and ranks of Demon Guards were marching out in formation, leaving behind them only a wasteland tainted by Fel corruption.

Above the column of Demon Guards, a dozen Doom Guards circled endlessly. These brutal overseers of the Legion cracked whips blazing with Fel Flame, striking the Demon Guards below to violently maintain order among the frenzied demons.

"Hurry, slaughter everything—the master's will must not be compromised!"

The elven soldiers guarding the palace gates watched with utter indifference. Since accepting the Fel infusion, their corrupted hearts had turned cold and merciless; they turned a blind eye as the demons butchered their own kin.

Beside the column of Demon Guards, packs of Felhounds rushed out swiftly, surging toward the city's outskirts.

Their orders were simple: form vanguard raiding parties to strike down elven resistance forces in advance, especially the mages.

The slaughter had begun.

The Demon Guards brutally smashed through every door they encountered along their path, grinning as they raised their fel-flame axes high and swung down viciously amid the elves' screams.

Eldorei was burning. The surviving elves scattered in all directions—some tried to flee the city, but most rushed toward the palace, foolishly hoping that Her Majesty the Queen could save them.

What awaited them, however, were even larger demon armies; lambs to the slaughter.

These elves died without ever understanding why these cruel demons had emerged from the queen's own court.

On the top-floor terrace of the palace, Azshara still lounged lazily on her side, watching her burning capital with a slight furrow of her delicate brow.

"Varone, my dear captain of the guard, I require an explanation. Varone?"

"All hail you, great Light of Lights. Captain Varone is currently by the Well of Eternity, overseeing the mages' work." A rasping voice came from behind the queen.

Hearing this, Azshara rose gracefully. The Head Maid Vashj, waiting nearby, immediately supported the queen's arm.

"Very well. Then I can ask you instead. Why are the Titan Soldiers attacking my capital's subjects? Sargoth, my dear steward of the court—you will give me an explanation."

Sargoth stepped out from the shadows at her words. This grand steward of the queen's court no longer bore any resemblance to a Night Elf.

He had been the first to accept the divine gift of ascension from the gods, gaining a new form and unimaginable power.

Now, he was a Satyr.

His feet had become hooves, his hands fel claws, his body covered in unyielding fur, and fel flames burned in his eyes and upon the demonic horns on his brow.

"Those foolish commoners refused the gods' blessing, Light of Lights. They are useless insects that must be purged for the gods' plan and your eternal reign... Ah, speaking of which, I have specially brought you a batch of the finest Titan Soldiers. They shall become your most loyal servants, at your disposal at any time."

With that, Sargoth clapped his claws, and a squad of elite Demon Guards strode in, gripping their fel-flame axes, lining up silently in the queen's private audience hall.

Azshara's attention immediately shifted to the Titan Soldiers. She paced gracefully before the lined-up demons, raised her right hand, and tapped curiously on one Demon Guard's breastplate, finally nodding in satisfaction.

"Hmm... I am quite pleased with this new batch of servants. Fight for my glory, champions of the Titans."

Azshara had countless ways to tame these Demon Guards. Perhaps she could never control the Burning Legion, but when it came to securing the loyalty of small groups, this queen's grip was formidable—especially as she was also an immensely powerful mage.

And so, the slaughter continued. For those ignorant "refusers of the gods' blessing," Azshara cared not at all.

Anyone who threatened her eternal reign, anyone who dared to hinder her from meeting the gods, would be reduced to ashes in her glory.

******

Several days later, in Val'sharah, Black Rook Hold.

The lord's hall was now filled with a grim and oppressive silence; every elf wore an expression of stunned disbelief.

Reports had arrived simultaneously from forward border scouts and surviving spies from the capital: the elven populace of Eldorei was suffering merciless slaughter at the hands of the Demon Legion. The entire city was shrouded in dark fel clouds, and from the Portal at the Well of Eternity, more demon troops were still pouring forth endlessly.

What in the world had happened?

Lord Ravencrest drummed his fingers rapidly against the armrest of his throne, pondering an urgent countermeasure.

"Send word—seal Val'sharah's borders immediately. Block all enemy attacks."

"Dispatch scouts at once. Give them the fastest Night Sabers. They are to notify the other regional lords of the current situation."

"The entire army is to enter a state of war. Wait and watch. If matters worsen further, I will call upon all lords to form a resistance army and march on Eldorei..." Here, Ravencrest paused for a moment.

"To rescue Queen Azshara!"

Yes, the pretext and justification were all in place: rescue Queen Azshara.

Indeed, the lords would not want to bear the stigma of rebellion, and Ravencrest knew full well that the appearance of the demon army was undoubtedly orchestrated by Queen Azshara herself. But he could not raise the banner of revolt against her—at least, not yet.

A pity that his two new court mages had gone to Suramar; otherwise, they could have...

Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao arrives. Krasus and Rhonin, who had set out for Suramar, had turned back halfway, looking utterly battered. Behind them, the orc Brox was covered in blood, with scraps of flesh still clinging to his shoulders and the blades of the two axes in his hands.

"We encountered the Burning Legion's vanguard—several hundred Felhounds at least. Lord, order all mages in Black Rook Hold to withdraw immediately. Do not act alone!"

Krasus looked pale and drained, clearly having been heavily drained by the Felhounds.

"Didn't we already kill them all?" Brox rumbled.

"It's not that simple. More will come soon. Lord Ravencrest, disaster has fallen. The elves must unite—including all other races, even the Demi-gods. Only by forming a resistance army can we have any hope of victory!"

Ravencrest let out a bitter laugh at these words.

A resistance army of all races, including Demi-gods?

How difficult.

"Urgent military report!"

At that moment, an elven scout rushed in swiftly.

"Prince Farondis's region of Azsuna has been swept by an unknown energy. All local elven kin have been forcibly transformed into spectral forms! They are in collapse!"

Ravencrest shot to his feet, his fists clenching involuntarily.

Yes, disaster had truly descended.

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