The events unfolded exactly as Su Ming had planned. After learning that Xavius had killed Malfurion, the Green Dragonflight also investigated the Archdruid's condition in the Reality Dimension.
Malfurion's corpse had actually begun to stink. That was no exaggeration—it was the truth. Nightmare's power had started using the body to erode reality itself, turning the Night Elf's originally blue-purple skin into a twisted mix of red and black.
To halt Nightmare's corrosion, the green dragons had breathed fire and cremated the body. They had come to find Tyrande this time to deliver his belongings: a staff shaped like a crooked walking stick, wrapped in feather ornaments.
"They burned it so thoroughly that there isn't even any ash left."
Su Ming thoughtfully stroked his chin and nodded from within the grass. A Wisp drifted past before him, circling nearby with obvious curiosity.
"Hm? What are you talking about?"
Hermione looked curious beside him. Her instincts told her that the professor might have done something again—something she did not know about.
Su Ming smiled and patted her head, then pulled out several bottles of soda and handed one to each of them. "Nothing. We arrived at just the right time. Tyrande's husband just happened to die, so Illidan has a chance now."
Jaina's expression became a little strange. She accepted the soda and clumsily opened it. "But wasn't she Illidan's brother's wife? Is that really okay?"
"That's a long story. She was originally supposed to marry Illidan, but his brother insisted on stealing her away. Then he threw Illidan into a dungeon, framed him for all sorts of crimes, and persecuted him without end." Since Malfurion had kicked the bucket, and the dead made the best scapegoats, Deathstroke began improvising freely. "Now the bad guy has gotten his Retribution. Lovers finally end