Passing by the still-living Red Dragons, half-roasted by the Black Dragons, the group continued exploring Grim Batol.
What had just happened taught Deren a lesson. This was not a five-man dungeon, even though there were exactly five of them including himself. It was all a coincidence. It had to be a coincidence.
Following the stone-paved avenue on the second level, Deren could not understand why the Wildhammer dwarves had built this city on such a massive scale when it had supposedly been meant for dwarves. Even Onyxia had room to move about after assuming her dragon form.
This truly was a remarkably forward-thinking construction project, Deren inwardly complained.
After walking for a while longer, they encountered another group of Orcs, followed by several Dragonkin warriors on patrol. The moment they spotted Deren's group, the Orcs let out a battle cry and prepared to charge. But upon seeing Onyxia, the Dragonkin trembled and immediately knelt, declaring their submission.
The Orcs who had already charged some distance tried to turn back and call for the Dragonkin to follow, only to find several cowards groveling and begging for mercy. Only then did they realize that the invaders ahead were not to be trifled with. But it was too late to retreat, so they furiously lashed the Dragonkin with their whips, trying to drive them into attacking.
These Dragonkin seemed to understand their place quite well—far better than that pack of brainless Whelps. The Black Dragon decided to give them a chance. Stepping forward, she used a shadow spell to burn the Orcs clean away, then stood before the Dragonkin and proudly raised her chin. "Lowly creatures, at least you know who truly holds power. Now I will give you a chance. Follow me."
"Yes! Yes!" The Dragonkin were not particularly intelligent to begin