The Unheard Conversation

"You seem to be in a good mood, Master."

"Kriel, didn't I tell you to stay in Grim Batol?" Deathwing felt uncomfortable and disgusted by Kriel's filthy appearance in Prysto's mansion.

"Of course, I have followed your orders completely, but... but there is one very important thing."

Upon hearing this, Prysto turned and slammed the heavy iron door behind him shut. Inside the small hut, Prysto had specifically assigned guards to prevent unidentified individuals from visiting. He had given a strict order: whatever happened in the basement, anyone who disturbed him would be killed.

"What's wrong?"

Prysto did not wish to be disturbed; he believed his servants would not dare to slacken in the face of mortal enemies. The magic he had cast on the King and nobles earned him the admiration and praise of all, for he was an active nobleman. He maintained the magic's effectiveness at all times.

"I offer my deepest apologies, Master," the thin man before Prysto shouted, his voice sharp and shrill. Kriel's head barely reached the buckle of a nobleman's belt, his mouth agape, his blood-red tongue strikingly prominent.

This low-ceilinged room used to be a storage room. It was cold, perfect for storing red wine. However, Deathwing had to thank Kriel; now the temperature here was like the center of an erupting volcano, making him feel right at home.

"What is it? Speak."

Kriel chuckled. He often laughed like that, which meant only two things: either he had come up with some evil plan, or he had gotten himself into some trouble.

"Three people are approaching Grim Batol. They intend to... intend to rescue that human."

Prysto looked at Kreel again and stared at him for a long time. The Goblins immediately cowered under Prysto's gaze. This time, he even felt death was so close.

Suddenly, the nobleman burst into laughter, but unlike normal people, his laughter was low and suppressed. "It seems like it's been a while since I've visited that human either."...

Grim Batol

The Dragons Queen gave a muffled groan. The two patrolling Dragonmaw Orc exchanged a glance, assuming the dragon was complaining about something, and didn't investigate. Ner'zhul had given orders that no Orcs except him and Zuluhed were allowed to see the Queen of Dragons.

Alexstrasza used almost all her strength to lay the last Dragon Egg. Unlike before, this time there was almost no sound. She moved her head, watching the new life. Sure enough, unlike the other Dragon Egg, it was similar in size, but its surface was smooth, without any protective spikes. Even stranger, the surface of the Dragon Egg was no longer dark red, but instead showed a white color with red birthmarks.

The Dragons Queen carefully wrapped her tail around one of the strange children. The eggshell was still slightly warm, but the moment she touched it, Alexstrasza felt a long-lost joy of victory. No life! She thought her senses were playing tricks on her, until after several attempts, she was certain she was right. Although the chains imbued with the power of the Demon Soul sealed most of her power, as the guardian of life, no one knew the rhythm of life better than her.

Calming slightly, Alexstrasza could almost picture Ner'zhul's furious expression when he discovered all this. These three Dragon Eggs were meaningless; they were more like containers than Dragon Egg, containing only a fraction of the Queen of Dragons's power...

"Yes, I understand, Master." Ner'zhul concluded the conversation. He held a seal engraved with a dragon's head, its scales resembling those of a dragon's head. This was a gift from Deathwing, intended to facilitate rapid communication between the two.

The lame Orcs moved with his unsteady steps, quickly approaching Zuluhed's location.

"Zuluhed." In this urgent situation, he called out the name of the Dragonmaw Clan chieftain.

"Zuluhed?" he called again, but there was still no response. Ner'zhul cursed, "Zulu..."

"What's wrong?" His familiar voice finally came from the other side of the passage.

"You're here!" Ner'zhul immediately moved closer, as if his superior was inspecting every corner of Grim Batol.

"There is very important news."

"News about that dragon?"

Ner'zhul blinked, momentarily unsure whether Zuluhed was referring to the Queen of Dragons or Deathwing.

"Yes, that's right. He told me that three people are approaching. They want to rescue that human."

"Ha, just three? They want to take on the entire Dragonmaw Clan?" Zuluhed said dismissively, laughing as if it were no threat at all. "Deathwing is such a coward."

The Warlock was completely taken aback by Zuluhed's audacity, thinking to himself that he only dared to speak ill of the black dragon behind his back. "I think we should be careful, Warchief. Since it was Deathwing who sent the message, we must take it seriously. Perhaps those three uninvited guests are powerful, or perhaps they are just scouts, and more invaders are on their way."

Zuluhed's smile faded slightly as he reconsidered Ner'zhul's warning. "Alright, I'll reinforce the defenses around Grim Batol. Now, you should go check on that reptile."

"I'm on my way; she should have already laid the Dragon Egg."...

Night fell too slowly. Yet, in some ways, Sylvanas felt it came too quickly. Her homeland was mountainous, much like this place. Her innate sense of direction would come in very handy here. So, she felt a little impatient, wanting to continue on her way, but she didn't act on it.

She couldn't help but ask, "Are we almost there?"

"Soon, very soon," Falstad replied. Unfortunately, he had given the same answer just a little while earlier.

The Ranger strained her eyes to see into the distance, but even with her exceptional night vision, she still couldn't make out the legendary fortress.

"Let's rest for a while," the Female Elf said helplessly. Out of consideration for the Dwarf and humans, she couldn't simply abandon them. After all, she was the one who chose to come here.

"That's fantastic!" Falstad clapped enthusiastically. "Now we have time to eat something and rest!"

Although Sylvanas was a little nervous and had little appetite, she still accepted the pastries that Rhonin had magically created. Food can always fill an empty stomach, and the Ranger understood that she needed to replenish her strength.

Falstad ate with great relish, seemingly quite satisfied with the taste. The Ranger, however, didn't have such a good appetite; her sensitive taste buds continued to protest, demanding that she find something more delicious.

After finishing her food, Sylvanas stood up and looked around. Falstad had gone to rest, but the impatient Elf just wanted to wander around. Most Elf gradually lose their impatience as they age, but there are some things that can bring this trait back.

A deliberately hushed voice suddenly broke the silence, causing the Elf to stop in her tracks. The Ranger had now ventured further than she had initially intended, likely into Orcs- controlled territory. She drew her sword with extreme care, trying to make no sound, and then moved forward inch by inch.

The voice didn't sound like a Troll's. In fact, the closer she got, the more she felt she knew the speaker. The voice was very familiar.

"That's how it is. I don't know what to do now, but I can understand the Elf's hatred for Dragons."

Then there was a moment of silence.

"That's right, that Elf Ranger. It's her."

Another silence followed.

"That Goblins? She let him go."

Despite straining her ears, Sylvanas couldn't hear what the other person was saying. But at least she knew who was speaking. That Rhonin, he definitely had something going on.

But who was he talking to? Sylvanas couldn't hear him at all. Had the mage gone mad? Was he talking to himself?

Rhonin was now silent, only nodding repeatedly in agreement, indicating that he fully understood. Risking discovery, Sylvanas slowly approached the source of Rhonin's voice. She leaned against a tree, observing the human with only one eye showing.

The monk was sitting on a large rock, facing the empty air in front of him.

It appears that Rhonin is forming a mental link with another mage. While Sylvanas isn't a mage herself, she can at least see through the little tricks mages play.

If Rhonin has connections with a mage, and it seems he's even working for that mage, why would he choose to hide it? Neither she nor Falstad would be interested in what he's up to; their relationship is purely cooperative.

"What?" Rhonin suddenly asked. "Where?"

He turned around with astonishing speed, his gaze immediately fixed on her.

Sylvanas retreated, trying to get out of his sight, but she knew it was too late.

"Come out," he called out. Then he added, "I know it's you, Lady Sylvanas."

It seemed there was no need to hide any longer, Ranger stepped forward. She made no move to sheath her sword; she wasn't sure if Rhonin was using her and Falstad.

The mage looked at her with disappointment. "I thought I had teleported far enough, but I didn't expect I still couldn't escape your keen ears. What are you doing here?"

"I'm just wandering around. But your coming here alone has raised a lot of questions for me."

"This has nothing to do with you..." Rhonin said, then suddenly turned his face slightly, as if listening to the instructions of the absent person.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Okay, whatever you say."

Sylvanas gripped the hilt of her sword. "Who are you talking to?"

To her surprise, a badge with a faint red glow and a gem on it suddenly appeared in Rhonin's hand. "He wants to tell you himself."

The Female Elf did not go to take him, and Rhonin said again, "He is a friend, not an enemy."