Call

'Krasus?' Rhonin continued calling in his mind, but the person he spoke of did not respond. This puzzled the mage; his quest giver had suddenly lost contact. Several times before, Rhonin had reported his quest progress to Krasus via a mental link. This magic, allowing two people to communicate over vast distances, was a spell Krasus himself had created. In fact, even Rhonin didn't understand why this Kirin Tor senator would choose him to undertake such an almost impossible task as rescuing the Queen of Dragons.

"Damn it, where did he go?" Rhonin frowned. Falstad was preening the Gryphon's feathers, while Sylvanas had locked up the Goblins and was drawing a portrait of Deathwing with paper and pen she'd found somewhere, while the Goblins gave a verbal description.

The mage knew he had to act quickly, and he tried to contact Krasus again. This time, he planned to channel his mental energy into magic, attempting to sense Krasus; he desperately wanted to know what that guy was up to.

"It's so cold!" The monk opened his eyes in surprise.

"Cold?" Falstad, who was bare-armed, heard his voice and looked him up and down in his light blue robe. "You're dressed much more warmly than I am."

Rhonin seemed a little shaken, but he didn't let Falstad notice anything amiss, and he pulled his clothes tighter around himself.

'What's going on? Why would Krasus go to that place?' he wondered, recalling how he had just gained Krasus's vision and perception through magic. All he could see was a vast expanse of white, and the biting wind still made the mage shiver. The temperature was much lower than in Alterac and Dun Morogh. Rhonin immediately identified the location—the northern continent of Northrend.

"Alright! That's it." The Goblins grinned as Sylvanas finished the last stroke. The Female Elf glanced at him, then said to the Dwarf and mage, "Come and see, have you seen this person before?"

Falstad was the first to approach. Due to her position, Sylvanas had to crouch down temporarily.

"Never seen him before. But it's strange, does Deathwing look that... handsome?"

"This is just a little trick to deceive people. Anyone who is proficient in magic can more or less change their appearance." Sylvanas stood up again and handed the portrait to Rhonin.

The mage examined the portrait for a while and then shook his head. "I've never seen him either, but just from the portrait, you can feel that this person is very charismatic. If he really appeared in the human kingdom, he wouldn't be unknown."

"Oh? Dalaran know so much about the other kingdoms? Then why don't you know that Nathanos is the inseparable friend of the Prince of Lordaeron? Otherwise, when he appears in front of you, you would think he is someone who is with you."

Rhonin blushed, suppressing his anger as he returned the portrait to Sylvanas. He didn't want to argue with the Female Elf on this matter, because she was right. For a long time, mages mostly communicated and studied magic together with other mages. As for what was happening in other kingdoms, probably only the members of the Kirin Tor Council would care. However, Sylvanas did remind him that if Deathwing's mortal form had infiltrated the human kingdoms, that would be very bad news.

"Alright, let's put that aside for now. The most urgent thing is to rescue Nathanos; he's currently in the hands of the Orcs. We must act immediately." Sylvanas rolled up the portrait and put it away. As she said this, Falstad looked somewhat troubled.

The Dwarf muttered, "Going to Grim Batol?"

"You have a problem with that?" The Ranger heard his complaint.

"Of course, don't you know that place is cursed? Many years ago, the Dark Iron Dwarf... never mind, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Sylvanas ignored his words and instead said, "If that damned place were truly cursed, the Orcs and those dragons wouldn't be frolicking and plotting in there."

"Alright, alright. You're right, Elf Lady. But there are only three of us. To rescue your man, we'll probably have to..."

"What did you say!" Sylvanas glared at him angrily, wishing she could tear the Dwarf's mouth apart. "Whose man did you say? Say it again."

"Why are you so agitated? Did I say something wrong? If Nathanos wasn't your partner, why did you risk your life to save him?"

A blush crept onto the Elf Ranger's cheeks, hidden beneath her hood, as if a surge of heat rose within her. Fortunately, the surrounding light was dim, and neither Falstad nor Rhonin noticed. Sylvanas quickly retorted, "It's merely my duty. I won't watch anyone die innocently. Besides, Nathanos loves my sister." A hint of sadness flashed in her eyes as she said this.

The Dwarf and the human looked at each other in surprise.

"So, does your sister know you risked your life to save him?" Falstad's question drew a murderous glare from the Female Elf. He immediately shut his mouth.

The atmosphere remained tense for a moment before Sylvanas shook her head, stopping her wandering thoughts. "Enough talk. Grim Batol isn't far from here. We need to come up with a perfect plan."

The three sat down, just in case, as the unfortunate Goblins had been knocked unconscious by Falstad's punch. Rhonin listened carefully to Sylvanas and Falstad's voices. He tried to speak as little as possible; mages rarely participated in matters of planning.

'It's Prysto!'

"Krasus?" Rhonin exclaimed, the voice in his mind all too familiar.

"Um?"

What is Krasus?

The Elf and Dwarf turned their gazes toward Rhonin, casting curious and suspicious glances their way.

"Uh... it's nothing. I just remembered a friend of mine named Krasus. We haven't seen each other in a long time."

The Dwarf glared at him. Was Rhonin wasting such precious time reminiscing about his good friend?

"Crazy." The Female Elf muttered under her breath, continuing to say what she had just been interrupted about.

Tranquility and tried again to connect with the whispers in her mind.

'Krasus, is that you?' he asked in his mind.

His response was a calm yet elegant voice. "The portrait depicts Prysto."

'You saw it all?' Rhonin Ning was somewhat surprised.

'Of course, if you can see into my sight, I can see into yours too.'

'I'm sorry, Krasus, I couldn't reach you, so I did this. Why did you go to Northrend?'

A long sigh escaped his mind, and Rhonin wondered if Krasus was alright.

"I went to find an ancient friend and persuaded him to help me; it took me quite a while. But you'd better not ask any more questions; there are some things I can't explain to you clearly in a short time, Rhonin. However, you brought me some important news: the portrait drawn by the Elf is key."

'I do not understand.'

"Go with them to rescue people, Rhonin. I'll explain things to you when the opportunity arises, but not now."

The whispers faded, and the sounds of Elf and Dwarf arguing returned to Rhonin's ears, seemingly debating how to better utilize the Gryphon. The human mage paid them no heed; he was now filled with more questions. What exactly was Krasus planning?

On the other side of the mental link, Krasus ended the conversation and took a step forward. His feet sank deep into the snow, and behind him stood a towering, blue, ring-shaped structure that seemed naturally formed. Smaller floating platforms surrounded it. It looked so sacred, yet so cold.

"Two more," Krasus said in a low voice.