The edgy black dragon paused, a flicker of fanaticism flashing through Deren's eyes. "Then, we shall head to the legendary holy land—the Dragon Isles."
At the words "Dragon Isles," Deren's heart sank sharply, and the muscles in his face nearly twitched out of control.
Sure enough, the wheels of history were rumbling forward along the track he remembered, heading straight for the expansion destined to stir up a storm.
"The Dragon Isles? How much do you know about that land?" Deren asked tentatively, his gaze fixed on the Black Dragon Prince.
He had to pretend to be curious and test how much Ragnaros knew.
The Dragon Isles should still be sealed off by magic. Ragnaros couldn't possibly be unaware of that. Did he have some other way to break through the seal?
Ragnaros lifted his chin, pride written all over his face. "I know far more than you think."
"That is the homeland of dragons. In ancient times, all dragons originated there. It also holds the old man's secret treasure vault."
"Did Deathwing tell you?" Deren exposed it directly.
He was merely a hatchling who had not been out of his shell for long. Even if he had been born intelligent and learned much within the egg—
The secrets of the Dragon Isles had been hidden too thoroughly. They were not something his assassins could have uncovered.
"That's right." Ragnaros did not avoid the matter in the slightest; he even sounded boastful. "That former Aspect of Earth is now on his last legs and desperately searching for a suitable successor to carry on his—legacy."
"And you're not worried it's a trap?" Deren said sarcastically. "Why would Deathwing help you? Because you're handsome, or because you're naïve enough?"
Rather than getting angry, Ragnaros burst out laughing. "He's hiding in Deeprock Abyss