Sargeras's Scepter

"What? Black dragon! Death Knight, attacked Dalaran." Although Turalyon tried his best to control his emotions, he couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at Terenas on the throne, thinking that the other party was playing a huge joke.

The old King shook his head, but he meant that everything was true. "Antonidas told me that when the Death Knight left, he said, 'I got what I wanted,' which clearly referred to the treasure Eye of Dalaran."

"Why?" Khadgar shouted, and Nathanos and Uther looked at him strangely. The Archmage realized his rudeness and immediately adjusted his tone. "I mean, the Secret Vault contains a vast array of weapons for the Death Knight to use, allowing them to win the war once and for all, but why did they only take the Eye of Dalaran?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask Council Master Antonidas." Terenas's voice echoed through the hall. Uther knew this was something that only happened when he was in a bad mood, but the old King was clearly not angry at Khadgar, but at the Death Knight.

"I am very worried!" Turalyon knelt on one knee before Terenas, looking up at him. "First the Medivh's Book, then the Eye of Dalaran, what's next? Your Majesty, we must do something!"

"I have seriously considered your previous proposal, General Turalyon. Now is indeed the time to regroup the Alliance," Terenas announced, standing up as he scanned the room.

Nathanos turned his head to look at the corridor beside him. A blond boy was eavesdropping. The little guy didn't pull his head back after noticing his gaze, but stared at him for a full three minutes. Terenas said something else, then Turalyon began to speak, followed by Khadgar, Uther, and then himself.

"Nathanos." The Alliance's Supreme Commander called his name, and he looked away. Now his identity was no longer a mystery; the boy, who was only eleven or twelve years old, already knew his name.

Uther coughed twice and gave him a reproachful look. Turalyon had just given him an order, but he hadn't heard it.

"Can you complete the mission?" the Paladin asked again.

Nathanos hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Understood."

"Very good." Turalyon approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, his expression a mixture of nervousness and pleading. "You must bring her back; we need the Elf's help!"

"What?!" Nathanos suppressed his expression, almost vomiting out his surprise. Turalyon had asked him to contact Alleria. Although he didn't know why the Paladin had given him this task—perhaps he thought Alleria was close to him—that was all in the past. No one knew that he and Alleria had just had a huge argument a few days ago. It wouldn't be wise for him to go to her now, especially since Nathanos couldn't guarantee he'd see Alleria again. But he also hoped Windrunner would return to the Alliance; after all, his purpose in joining the Alliance was to help the Female Elf escape her hatred.

They've gone mad! They've all gone mad! Why him? Nathanos looked at Turalyon. Why didn't he go himself?

The Paladin's expression had returned to calm, but his turning motion was somewhat stiff, as if Nathanos had just taken something from him, causing his Will to crumble for a moment.

"Your Majesty, I will personally lead a team to investigate this matter, and... and prepare for the worst."

Terenas nodded; everyone knew what Turalyon meant by the worst-case scenario. The King of Lordaeron felt he saw Lothar, with Khadgar beside him, but the human swearing an oath before the throne was younger and more hopeful.

After Parliament

Even after leaving the palace, the group continued their debate, mostly about the black dragon and Deathwing.

"If the Horde receives help from the black dragons, it will be a catastrophe for humanity," Khadgar said with deep concern. No one could offer him comfort; they were just as worried.

"At least, we haven't officially faced them yet, and we will be fully prepared. Gentlemen, we must gather our allies as quickly as possible," Turalyon reiterated.

"Clear!"

Don't worry.

Nathanos: "..."

Fenris Wolfbrother, the warlord of the Thunderlord Clan, gazed at the ancient, coral-covered building before him. He had no idea what he would find inside. It was truly bizarre; the carvings were actually the shells, bones, and spines of various marine creatures, attached to the building's exterior walls from years of submersion underwater. And the door to this eerie structure was open—this was the Tomb of Sargeras.

"Is it right here?" Fenris asked, frowning. He found it hard to reconcile the terrible surroundings with the artifact they were about to obtain.

"Yes, it's right here," Tagga said after examining it carefully for a moment. "That's what Ner'zhul said."

"He's never been here before, he's never even set foot in this world!" Fenris exclaimed. "Why does he know so much about this place?"

Bonechewer Chieftain was speechless at his words. He was right. Ner'zhul seemed to have changed. He seemed to know a lot of things. Tagga even wondered if he had gained some kind of divine power after painting his face like that.

The Orcs shook his head, stopping his wild thoughts. "Never mind him, the sooner we finish the mission, the sooner we can go back."

Fenris snorted, which was taken as agreement with his opinion.

Tomb of Sargeras, traces everywhere indicate that this structure had endured hundreds, even thousands of years underwater. Constant erosion by the sea, along with moss, shells, and coral clinging to the walls, has rounded all the corners. The floor is also covered in fungi and seaweed. The murals and other decorations that once adorned the walls are now illegible due to years submersion. But that wasn't the problem; the problem was the complete lack of light. Fenris had to raise his torch, which, though casting unpleasant shadows, at least allowed the group to move inside.

As they advanced, the surrounding walls became cleaner than those at the entrance. Moreover, the erosion from the sea was less severe. The decorative carvings on the walls hadn't been completely brushed away as before. From this, Fenris could roughly discern the temple's splendor in its heyday. He thought to himself that it must have been incredibly magnificent, possessing a nobility and beauty he had never imagined.

Suddenly, a series of rough footsteps echoed through the hall. Fenris found that his clan's Warrior shared his sentiments—they had all drawn their weapons. But Tagga and his Bonechewer Orcs were unmoved by the beauty of the place; they seemed only interested in death and destruction.

Tagga suddenly stopped and pointed to a stone wall ahead. "Look there!" Fenris looked in the direction he was pointing and noticed a black stain on the carving.

"Blood!" Tagga confirmed. He knelt down and checked again. "It really is blood, and it looks like a long time has passed."

"It must be the blood of Gul'dan or his Warlock," Fenris said. "We're almost there!"

Although this meant their mission was nearing completion, it wasn't a comfortable thought. "Stay alert," Fenris told his Orcs, whose Warrior nodded solemnly.

"Iron Wolf, are you afraid?" Tagga mocked, stepping forward and bringing his face close to Fenris's. "Afraid of the threat to kill Gul'dan?"

"Of course I'm scared, you bastard!" Fenris roared, his fangs striking Tagga's face. "Gul'dan was a traitor, an idiot, but he was still the most powerful Warlock in the Horde! Right here, something killed him and his followers. If you're not scared, you're either insane or a fool!"

"Haha, I'm never afraid!" Tagga replied, and several Warriors from the Thunderlord Clan laughed at his words. Fenris simply shook his head, wondering why he had ever acted with such a madman.

"Alright," Finris forced a smile and said. "So, will you lead the way?"

Tagga laughed and charged forward, his Battle Shout echoing through the hall. Fenris walked on, oblivious to everything. The others followed.

As they ventured deeper into the temple, the walls and floors seemed to improve even more. Their magnificence was exhilarating. At a crossroads, Regnok stopped, looking somewhat bewildered. He turned into one path, then into another. Fenris frowned.

"Is something wrong?" a clan member asked.

"It's nothing. I..." Fenris hesitated, then nodded to himself and walked resolutely in one direction.

The corridor ended before a large room. The walls there were blank, and even more strikingly, they were so clean, smooth, and unadorned. At the other end of the room, a massive archway made of Dark Iron occupied almost the entire wall.

"This is it," Fenris gasped. He pushed the door open, then froze in fear.

Beyond that door lay utter darkness, as if darkness itself were condensed and hidden there, and light could never dispel it.

In that darkness, just beyond the doorway, stood a creature entirely from a nightmare. It was far larger than any of the Orcs, forcing it to stoop in the room. Its skin was a dark green, its body bloated. Protruding spikes covered its shoulders, forearms, chest, and other parts of its body. At the ends of its excessively long arms were hands with long claws. Its eyes gleamed, and its mouth was filled with sharp fangs. Behind it were enormous wings and a tail that swayed from side to side.

It held a long staff in its hand, which looked like a spear with a wooden handle and a silver tip. What was particularly striking was the huge gem embedded in the head of the staff, which emitted a dazzling Fel green light that made the darkness of the room seem insignificant, and it also occasionally emitted sparks that eventually disappeared into the darkness.

That is Sargeras's Staff — the Ner'zhul demanded they bring back.

Fenris was certain that it was guarded by a demon, and all they needed to do was snatch it from this monster.

"You won't get through here," the creature hissed, its voice dripping with slickness. "Mortals have already defiled this place once! I won't allow you to defile it again!"

"We won't cross this road," Finris replied, trying to conceal his panic, "Unless you hand us the scepter you're holding."

The demon laughed, its deep laughter sounding like the creaking of bones grinding against each other. It stepped forward, its massive feet leaving deep indentations on the marble floor.

"Then try to take it from my grasp," the demon laughed. "After you fail, I will feast on your delicious souls."

"I'm going to smash you into a pulp!" Tagga roared, raising his battle axe as he Charge toward the demon.

Fenris cursed Tagga the idiot a thousand times in his mind, but he wasn't much better himself. He raised his weapon and joined the fight against Bonechewer Chieftain. The other Orcs Warrior followed behind them.

Even so, it was a very difficult battle. The demon was far stronger than any of the Orcs. He wielded a massive spear, its arms capable of easily sending ten Orcs flying. The power emanating from his scepter was enough to reduce Orcs to ashes. But the demon clearly didn't use it; he merely plunged the barb at the end of Sargeras's tail into his enemy's chest, then through his back, blood still dripping from the scepter. Tagga stared at the demon, roaring in fury.

It was this battle rage that saved them. Normally, Fenris would have been disgusted by the Orcs' Bloodlust, but now, it was a blessing. Without that Bloodlust, many Orcs would have fled in panic and met their demise. But now, the Orcs' minds were clouded, their vision blurred, and their blood surged within them. It was this Bloodlust that allowed them to maintain their offensive. Many Orcs attacked the demon simultaneously from different directions, and it was still struck several times. The demon was indeed strong, but ultimately, it fell before the Orcs.

Fenris crouched down, picked up the scepter that had fallen to the ground, and felt the energy within it trembling slightly. It was lighter than Fenris had expected.

"We've got it," he said, turning around. "Now it's time to leave."

"Fortunately, we don't need to go any deeper into this abyss." Tagga looked at Fenris with a mocking expression, but the other deliberately avoided his gaze.

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