Argument

Two days later, the Gryphon Rider of Aerie Peak returned with the message.

The final result disappointed Nathanos. It was truly unbelievable that the King of the Alliance had agreed to Turalyon's decision. The only good news was that Terenas had urgently recalled Uther, who might miss the operation.

Turalyon immediately began recruiting volunteers from the Alliance army, as everyone knew how dangerous it was to go to another unknown world.

Who should go to Draenor? Who should stay behind? What essentials should they bring? How long will they have to wait?

The crowd continued arguing. What started as a casual conversation gradually escalated into a debate, and eventually some people even began shouting.

Ultimately, the group drafted a plan that satisfied everyone, except for Nathanos, who hadn't participated in any discussions. He was on his way to the Farstrider camp to find Alleria, Nathanos was also glad that she had declined Turalyon's invitation to the meeting, at least avoiding any arguments with others.

The Female Elf saw him approaching from afar, and after exchanging a few words with her lieutenant Verina, Nathanos arrived right in front of her. How to begin was a question, but he decided to break the silence first.

What are your plans next?

Alleria seemed to have guessed he was going to ask this question, and said directly, "I will help the Alliance take the Dark Portal, and then..." She glanced at Nathanos, the humans becoming even more eager, and continued.

"Then... go back!"

Nathanos's solemn expression gradually relaxed, and finally, Alleria smiled, and the two embraced.

"I want to be with Sylvanas, Vareesa, and Quel'Thalas's people. I will also find my missing brother Rilas, and... you. I simply cannot refuse you, Nathanos. I know you want me to do this. Thank you for saving me."

"Me too, Alleria."...

"It looks like we'll lose the Elf's help." Khadgar walked over to Turalyon. He could tell Turalyon needed some comfort.

"That's good, at least... they'll all survive, right? And I... I can concentrate now."

The Archmage paused, then nodded. "It seems Alleria will not be a member of the Sons of Lothar."

At the second meeting, Turalyon decided to prepare for the attack on the Dark Portal. Seated on either side of him were Khadgar and Danas, but to his disappointment, Alleria did not take her seat, instead standing aside reading the now-worthless report.

"I think we'd better not act rashly. Don't forget, the Horde has dangerous allies like the Black Dragon."

"Don't be afraid, my Gryphon Rider are perfectly capable of dealing with those dragons flying in the sky. As soon as I find them, I'll go up there immediately..."

"Alright!" Turalyon gestured for the excited Kurdran to sit down. He had no doubt about Kurdran's aerial abilities, but Khadgar was right; they had to be careful.

"Kurdran previously reported that they seemed to be transporting something. I have sent people to investigate this several times. I have discovered that most of those black dragons follow the cargo. In other words, wherever the cargo is, the dragons are there."

"I understand." Turalyon stood up. "In other words, once all those things are transported to Draenor, the black dragons will go with them, and that will be the best time for us to attack."

Everyone nodded. Turalyon looked at Alleria, still wanting to ask for her opinion.

"Alleria, are you ready..."

"I will cooperate with the Alliance in this battle..." She wanted to say something more, but stopped herself. Khadgar guessed that she probably wanted to say "that's all," which meant she wouldn't cross the Dark Portal. However, to avoid affecting morale, Alleria didn't say it aloud.

Draenor, Hellfire Citadel

This was a repulsive place, its structure fragmented, composed of jagged edges, massive black boulders, and a maze of interconnected corridors. Traditional Orcs villages consisted mostly of small buildings, houses, and low towers. Ner'zhul felt nothing here that evoked the original sense of Orcs life—the Tranquility and peaceful atmosphere—but only tension and unease.

These structures are built entirely of Blackrock, edged with rough iron. Strange pillars supporting the fortress are scattered around the buildings, topped with gleaming steel spikes that resemble giant claws reaching out from the earth and grasping the Hellfire Citadel.

The winding paths connect to the top of the fortress, seemingly not intentional, but rather the product of the building's molten state. Behind it stands an even taller, spire-topped tower.

Ner'zhul did not peer through the arched window at the Dark Portal. He did not want to be affected once again by the fact that his once fertile world had become desolate. But he could not escape reality.

He absentmindedly reached out and touched the white bone carvings on his face. Death, the death of Draenor, the death of his people, the death of his own faith. His green, aged hands were stained with blood—the blood of so many innocents, the blood of the Orcs who had once trusted him. All of this, because he had been led astray without even realizing it.

'You can't go on like this,' a voice echoed in his mind. Ner'zhul ignored it. It was easier to ignore the skull's voice when he wasn't in direct contact with Skull of Gul'dan. Despite Ner'zhul's repeated warnings not to pay too much attention, he couldn't help but glance at the skull on the small table beside him. The torchlight flickered on the yellowed skull. He found himself talking to it, as if Gul'dan could hear him. Although, in a way, that was indeed the case.

"We've hurt too much, you and I alike. But now, I can try to save them. My apprentice, your head... will be part of this plan. After you die, you will be of far greater use to the Orcs."

'But that's not what you truly want, is it?'

Ner'zhul blinked. "Wrong! I have always been seeking ways to help my people! I have failed them before." He touched the painting on his face again.

'Perhaps, it was once.' Gul'dan's seductive voice echoed in his ears once more. 'But your power is not limited to this, mighty Ner'zhul. If you and I cooperate, we can...'

A commotion drew Ner'zhul's attention. He reluctantly averted his gaze from Skull of Gul'dan, ending the argument. The Blood Maw stood before him, beside a human Ner'zhul didn't recognize. This man was tall and thin, with curly hair and a neatly trimmed beard. The stranger was lavishly dressed, and every movement he made exuded the elegance and confidence befitting a leader. But something was amiss. Ner'zhul sensed the energy emanating from him and frowned.

"I have obtained what you needed," Blood Maw said bluntly, holding up a large bundle. Ner'zhul felt a glimmer of hope and waved for the Death Knight to come forward. Blood Maw approached the throne, took all the artifacts from his pocket, and placed them on the ground.

Ner'zhul looked down at them. A huge, thick book with a red cover edged in brass and adorned with a crest of a flying raven. A crystal, almost the size of a human head, its center carved into a star, edged in deep purple. And a slender scepter, supported by silver and wood, topped with a huge, gleaming green gem.

"Yes," Ner'zhul murmured, placing his hands on the three treasures. He could feel the boundless power emanating from them, a power strong enough to tear space between worlds. "Yes, with them, we can open a new portal. We will save the Horde. We must act immediately! Casting such powerful spells takes time, and we must ensure everything is accurate." He smiled. "But with these three things, we will not fail."

The Blood Maw bowed, took a step back, and turned to the human.

"Without the help of the Black Dragonflight, we would never have been able to obtain these. Deathwing is their leader."

Deathwing! Ner'zhul gripped the armrests of his throne. A powerful creature bearing the name "Death" stood before him. From that human form, Ner'zhul could vaguely see his true dragon form, and a chill ran down his spine. Deathwing's lips curved, but his smile held no warmth, and his bow to Ner'zhul carried a hint of mockery. Ner'zhul tried to calm his wildly beating heart. He had dreamt of all this before—true death.