Princess, don't abandon us
Emberthal's eyes rekindled. "Time is passing? But this does not affect our mission. The purpose of our creation is to obey the orders of Master Neltharion, to fight, and to fight against those enemies who threaten Aspect Dragons."
Her voice began to carry a trace of memories, as if the sealed memory fragments were being activated. "I remember - we were deployed, we experienced battles - the enemy came from the shadows, we fought back - fighting, explosions, companions fell - many, many companions - in the end there was darkness, a cold cage, a long sleep -"
Alexstrasza's heart felt like it was being squeezed.
She could imagine what kind of battles and sacrifices these beings created by Neltharion experienced as weapons, and were eventually ruthlessly sealed here.
She opened her arms and tried to make her voice full of comfort and compassion, "Those are the sufferings of the past, Emberthal. The war has ended a long time ago. Now is a new era, Azeroth ushered in the hard-won peace."
"Put down your weapons, let go of the hatred and combat mission you have been given. Come out, embrace this new world, and experience the meaning of life itself, rather than just existing as a weapon."
"The Dragon family has endured too much suffering and division. What we need is to heal the scars, not new disputes.
Fight."
However, Emberthal shook his head slowly and firmly. "No. Our core instructions, the meaning of our existence, are only connected to Lord Neltharion. We only obey his direct orders. I'm sorry, Your Majesty, we cannot follow your instructions."
Her rejection was straightforward and complete, with the absolute loyalty of the creature to Creators, or, in other words, similar program restrictions.
At this moment, a figure couldn't wait to rush out from behind Alexstrasza. It was Ragnaros whose face was scarred but whose eyes were astonishingly bright.
He pointed to his nose excitedly and shouted in a slightly proud voice, "Me! It's me! The only legitimate heir of Neltharion, the pure-blooded Black Dragon Prince Ragnaros! Old man - well, of course the army left by my father should obey my orders! I am the one you should be loyal to!"
He seemed to see a bright future in which he would lead this powerful "Dracthyr" army, sweep across all directions, and realize the "Aspect of Earth" dream, and even the pain on his face was temporarily forgotten.
Emberthal's eyes turned to Ragnaros, and the data stream in the pale golden vertical pupils flashed rapidly again.
She looked at the other person's bruised nose and face, and actually began to scan and analyze his bloodline, energy characteristics, and words in a serious manner.
But a few seconds later, she shook her head again, her tone still calm and formal. "The target individual has been detected: Ragnaros. It is confirmed that its body contains fragments of the genetic material of Master Neltharion, which meets the definition of a descendant. However, the authority level is insufficient. We only respond to direct instructions or the highest authorization key from Master Neltharion. The identity of the descendant is not high enough and does not have the authority to inherit command."
Ragnaros's face suddenly froze with pride, as if a basin of ice water had been poured on it.
"Impossible, impossible, I am the only orthodox Black Dragon Prince, we should obey my orders!" Ragnaros yelled crazily after hearing this.
It seems that after being rejected by Dracthyr, Black Dragon, a middle school student, can no longer maintain the elegance and confidence that he always thought he had.
His whole body collapsed and he sat on his knees on the ground.
"Tsk, it seems that the damn old man was quite careful and didn't give his son the authority casually."
Onyxia stepped forward and stood side by side with Alexstrasza. She looked at these strange creations called "Dracthyr" with interest, as well as the stereotyped scale length Emberthal.,
A glimmer of understanding flashed in her eyes, and Neltharion probably never thought that one day she would no longer be able to come back and command these creations.
She immediately said, "Emberthal, right? Listen carefully. Your Creators, Neltharion, and that old Black Dragon have been disabled by me, his biological daughter, Onyxia, and now they are lingering in the cracks of the ground. So, you can't wait for his personal order."
Her words were direct and rude, with the unique arrogance of Black Dragon Princess, and she said directly, "Now, I will give you two choices. Either, obey the arrangements of Red Dragon Queen, His Majesty Alexstrasza, which is good for you and everyone. Or----"
She didn't finish her words, but her slightly clenched fists and the faint pressure of Black Dragon rising from her body, which was far more pure and powerful than Ragnaros, had clearly shown the physical persuasion of the content after "either".
However, to everyone's surprise, when Emberthal heard Onyxia's words, especially when she felt the pure, powerful Black Dragon Princess pressure that had the same origin as Neltharion but was more condensed, the whole "people" became excited!
The strange weapon in her hand fell to the ground with a clang, and her pale golden vertical pupils instantly brightened up astonishingly. She stared at Onyxia closely and greedily, her voice trembled imperceptibly due to excitement. "Ah! This - this bloodline resonance! So pure! So powerful! Far beyond the level of heirs!" She took a sudden step forward.
This action made Onyxia subconsciously take half a step back.
Then Emberthal almost shouted, "You----you are really the direct descendant of Lord Neltharion! The purest bloodline heir! Black Dragon Princess Palace
Down!"
She seemed to have automatically filtered out the part about Onyxia and "crippled Neltharion" and only focused on bloodline and identity.
She knelt down on one knee and looked up at Onyxia. Her tone was full of enthusiasm and a certain expectation of finding her home. "Your Highness Princess! You actually have the power to defeat Lord Neltharion! This is simply - an incredible honor!"
"Dracthyr has long scales Emberthal. On behalf of all Warrior who are sleeping here, we ask to follow your footsteps! Please lead us to the battlefield of glory again! In order to realize the unfinished work of Aspect of Earth----"
"Stop! Stop! Don't come here!" Onyxia was startled by this sudden enthusiasm for "loyalty". He quickly took two steps back and waved his hands repeatedly, his face full of disgust and rejection. "Who wants you to follow me?! I don't want any subordinates, let alone any battlefield! My life now is very good, very stable, and I don't want to fight at all!"
Emberthal was flatly rejected, the whole person (dragon?) froze, and the blazing light in the pale golden vertical pupils quickly dimmed.
What replaced it was a kind of abandoned and helpless sadness.