Druids did like living underground. Cave dwelling was indeed worry-free and effortless, much easier than building houses.
But underground had always been Deathstroke's home turf. One Malfurion was practically meat on the chopping block now.
Not long ago at Grim Batol, Su Ming had freed the Red Dragon Queen by stealing the Dragon Soul, setting her against the Orcs. Things over there were surely quite lively by now, and the Green Dragon Queen Ysera had likely gone to lend a hand, meaning she was no longer in the Emerald Dream.
After all, Ysera was still Elune's pet. The less she moved, the better, so drawing her away was ideal.
As for that half-man, half-deer Cenarius, who could go into heat at the sight of any living creature, he was merely called a "demigod." Nothing to worry about. Deathstroke had killed plenty of gods already.
The dark, deep tunnels carried the fresh scent of earth. Tree roots occasionally hung down from the ceiling as decoration, while glowing insects and mushrooms served as underground lighting. Their faint, cool blue glow made this subterranean world seem quite beautiful.
Even with the Nightmare invading, laughter and cheerful voices could still vaguely be heard underground. The Laughing Sisters, commonly known as "little deer," were conversing somewhere in the distance, their voices as pleasant as silver bells.
Yet Xavius clearly could not appreciate such pastoral joy. As an Avenger filled with rage, he had longed to kill Malfurion with his own hands for a full ten thousand years. At this moment, there was nothing on his face but a cruel smile.
"Who are you?"
At that moment, a Druid carrying a wooden club jumped out from the fork ahead. Dressed in crude leather armor, the Night Elf blocked the strangers with a grave expression.
Xavius sneered