The End

A demon sat silently amid a pile of rubble—or rather, lay half-reclined there.

The muscles across the front of its body had been stripped away by some terrifying force. Its hollow left eye socket and exposed bones were a ghastly white, though the upper portions of those bones had been charred black. Yet even after such grievous wounds, its life still clung on tenaciously. The flesh around its injuries continually writhed, trying to heal the horrific damage, though it knew full well that in these sewers, devoid of food and fel energy, that goal was nearly impossible.

It was a Mo'arg demon. After their race had been tempted by the Nathrezim leader Tichondrius, they had collectively fallen and joined the Burning Legion. The Mo'arg had clear divisions of labor: those who developed intellect and strength, the Mo'arg workers, served as the Burning Legion's greatest technological support, forging countless siege weapons; the Mo'arg brutes who developed their power formed the Burning Legion's most basic infantry corps. The mightiest Mo'arg were known as Fel Lords—Zakuun, Betug, General Sakkar, and even Houndmaster Hakkar, who commanded the felhounds, all came from this race.

The one lying here was merely an insignificant nobody. Even as an ordinary demon soldier, his body, steeped in fel energy, still radiated a terrifying aura. Fel energy was powerful precisely because it was power gained by overdrawing one's life force. The remaining right eye of this demon guard, whose body had been shattered in half, shifted. His right-hand fingers slowly tightened around the massive axe at his side. Even if he could not move, he would still kill these brazen intruders.

An Arcane Missile struck his hand. The demon guard sprawled over the rock golem had no ability to dodge. His right hand was blasted apart, and the massive axe slowly fell to the ground, its heavy echo reverberating through the cramped space.

"This is a demon." Liadrin could scarcely believe her eyes. Her gaze was filled with terror—and even cowardice.

Krasus, however, remained calm. He had seen these evil beings ten thousand years ago, especially this most ordinary kind of demon, the Mo'arg brute. Yet despite that, his heart would not stop pounding.

Judging from the situation here, a necromancer was clearly hiding in Dalaran. He had summoned this demon, but after discovering that it could not be controlled, he had ruthlessly struck it down and hurriedly fled.

On the ground beside the demon was a huge green Delgra rune, drawn with venomous death nettle sap mixed with mithril powder. This was a magic array used specifically to summon demons. Offer up a sacrifice, then summon a demon. Demons often traded fairly, so long as you could defeat them.

"I..." The ugly Mo'arg demon's lungs contracted violently, and terrifying fury nearly burned him to ashes. "Was... deceived..."

"Indeed." Salorian looked at the three small Talar runes surrounding the Delgra rune, most of which had already been destroyed. If the summoned demon was unwilling to honor the contract, these would be the summoner's powerful means of retaliation. "It seems the mage who summoned you did not wish to coexist with you peacefully."

"She..." The demon's voice was as grating as wind through a broken bellows. "Used... her body... to seduce... me..."

Korthira raised an eyebrow. "So you want us to avenge you? Hmm? Demon?"

Emerald fel flames ignited across the demon's body. He burned fiercely within the fire, and everyone around him retreated. His bones and muscles rapidly withered, but at last he could speak fluently. "I know you, Alodi!"

"You are the powerful mage who banished me! It took me a full thousand years to recover from the wounds you gave me in the Twisting Nether!"

"I will make a contract with you." The demon guard's tempting voice rang out. "So long as you help me kill the one who deceived me..."

A pure black crystal condensed in his hand, while fel flames blazed in his single eye. "All my knowledge will be yours."

Lister looked impassively at the demon putting on such a performance. Bored, he stamped his foot and breathed out a plume of frost. "So this is how you Nathrezim operate? Hmm? Tricking people into signing contracts whenever you have nothing better to do, then using them to take over your enemies' bodies. That must leave them wishing they were dead. Quite a fine method."

Everyone froze at first, then looked at the demon guard with horrified eyes. He hastily explained, "What do you mean by that? I am not a Nathrezim!"

"Shut up, Kathra'natir. Even a child can see through your schemes." Lister's mocking smile drew an enraged roar from the demon guard. Powerful fel energy surged from his body as his flesh rapidly peeled away from his skeleton, forming a five-meter-tall fel phantom. "Alodi!!!"

Ebony Chill erupted with its most intense power. That mighty force transformed into a pure azure torrent of arcane energy. The torrent, as thick as a Pyroblast, swallowed the demon phantom whole. Everyone around them raised both hands to shield their faces, but even so, the violent impact left them unable to stand steady, forcing them back step by step.

That powerful arcane torrent not only washed Kathra'natir away completely, but even lifted the ground above them wholesale, blasting straight through a tower and alarming all of Dalaran.

"You—will—regret—this—" Kathra'natir stretched out a hand, trying to seize that phantom against the arcane torrent. Alodi's face overlapped with Lister's, and his boundless rage finally became a roar brewed for three thousand years. "Alodi!!!"

Lister let out a furious roar, and the surging arcane energy burst through its banks completely, utterly drowning the dreadlord's power.

The fierce torrent of energy continued to scour the area for a full ten minutes before gradually subsiding. When it ended, even Ebony Chill's radiance had dimmed considerably. Lister stared blankly at his right hand gripping Ebony Chill. Above the collapsed sewer pipes, water thundered down, hanging around them like curtains of waterfalls.

In that instant, it seemed that some will had taken control of his emotions. It seemed... it seemed to be Alodi's emotions. His pure hatred for demons had overwhelmed Lister. It seemed to be a memory branded deep within Ebony Chill.

"Quite an impressive spell." Krasus stepped out from behind the curtain of water. "How did you recognize him as Kathra'natir?"

Lister shrugged. He had merely thought of the shameless tactics used by protagonists in webnovels from his previous life—bluffing the other side. He answered sincerely, "I was only trying to trick him. How could I have known he was that monster who died thousands of years ago? Who knew he was so impatient that he immediately jumped out?"

Even ancient monsters like Krasus and Salorian, who had lived for thousands of years, fell silent after hearing Lister's explanation. Poor Kathra'natir. If he knew he had been exposed like this, he probably would not rest easy even in death.

"Anyway, he's a demon. After deceiving so many people, he won't take it to heart if I deceive him once." Lister tightened his grip on Ebony Chill and met the gaze of the mage above. "Isn't that right, teacher?"

Antonidas smiled knowingly. "Yes."