Flask

"Master is here!"

There is only one cave in Warhammer Mountain, and only one entrance, so when they heard this, both Rassuvios and Ohan the Ogre Sword were facing the same direction.

Compared to the Forsaken instructors, the members of the Twelve Withered Swords were more concerned about the Forsaken leader himself. Ohan's eyes, hidden beneath her cloak, immediately noticed that Nathanos the Witherer had changed—a change that worried and frightened her—he had become weaker!

What exactly happened? Who did it? What caused him to look so weak?

Ohan immediately knelt before Nathanos, bowing his head and saying, "Master, I have completed the task you gave me." This was merely a simple report. The female Orcs hadn't expected praise; the members of the Twelve Blades only needed to know how to obey, at least that's what she believed.

"Where is she?" Nathanos glanced down at Ohan, patted her right shoulder, but his eyes, which shone brightly in the cave, were fixed on Rassuvios. Only then did the instructor realize that he was the Witherer asking the question.

"Follow me, my lord." Rassuvios gestured for her to proceed, walking ahead with the Witherer following behind. Ohan, having received no orders, chose to remain where she was.

The cave was only illuminated by the crystals that had grown inside, but Nathanos's keen ears allowed him to perceive other things in the darkness.

Breathing, slow and deep breaths, as if inhaling and exhaling had become an effortless task. Nathanos was very familiar with this, and very sensitive to it.

It seems the prisoner is still alive. The Witherer nodded in satisfaction. Ohan had done a good job; it was exactly what he wanted. But Onyxia's injuries must be quite serious.

"She's just ahead." Rassuvios didn't lead the way to the final destination. He lowered his head in shame, hoping Nathanos wouldn't make him continue. He really didn't want to see Onyxia's face; he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control the urge to draw his sword.

"You may leave now." The Witherer, understanding as he was, noticed the gratitude in Rassuvios's eyes. He understood what the instructor was worried about, so he didn't intend to press him.

Rounding a bend, Nathanos expected to find himself in a vast space, wide enough to fit a dragon, but instead found iron bars of a prison. While he was away, the Forsaken had carved out the prison within the cavern. Nathanos thought of Alexstrasza, the Queen of Dragons, the woman he had been intimate with, who had been imprisoned deep within Grim Batol. Then, a visionary Orcs had devised a plan to have the Dragon Queen mate with a mortal to obtain Dragon Egg. Alexstrasza did indeed lay Dragon Egg, but none of them hatched.

"Zuluhed!" Without realizing it, Nathanos remembered the Orcs, the chieftain of the Dragonmaw Clan. Outsiders had always believed him to be dead, and Nathanos thought so too; even the Forsaken's records stated his death. But the truth was that the Orcs was alive and well. Intelligence indicated that he was in Dragonmaw Fortress in Shadowmoon Valley, having resumed his old ways and taken control of the Void Dragon.

Now, Nathanos, like him, also controls a dragon—a dragon of noble birth. He could easily, like the Dragonmaw Orc, force Onyxia to serve the Forsaken, expanding their aerial power by giving birth to black dragons. The Forsaken haven't yet formed their own air force. But that would disgust him; Nathanos dislikes the feeling of manipulating people.

As he approached, a commotion seemed to arise within the cell. The guards, recognizing Nathanos, immediately placed their weapons on their left shoulders in salute. The Witherer nodded in response, observing the two soldiers; they were not under magical control.

"You may all step back."

After the guards left, Nathanos stood outside the railing observing. The Black Dragon Princess, in her mortal form, lay flat on the ground, her upper body slightly elevated by what appeared to be a cushion made of haystacks. One of her hands was clutching her right abdomen, where she looked injured. Nathanos could sense that her breath was extremely weak, and she was completely unable to move.

After confirming that Black Dragon would not resist, he opened the cell door and went inside, the noise of which made the woman on the ground suddenly open her eyes.

Who is it?

"The true master of Rassuvios!" Nathanos responded immediately.

Onyxia blinked, recognizing the figure; it was indeed exactly the same as Auchindoun then, but...

"You seem to have gotten weaker." Black Dragon's words were laced with sarcasm, and a faint smile appeared on her pale lips.

Nathanos snorted, mercilessly reopening Onyxia's old wounds. "How many times have you been defeated by mortals?"

"You!" Upon hearing this, the Black Dragon Princess was consumed by rage. As soon as she moved, the wound on her abdomen began to tear open, causing her excruciating pain.

The Witherer knelt beside her, reaching out to grasp Onyxia's wrist. The chill sent a shiver down the Black Dragon Princess's spine.

"Don't touch me," she commanded.

"Please cooperate." Nathanos stared directly at him, his voice piercing Onyxia's heart. "Otherwise, you will die immediately."

"You dare! Do you know who my father is?"

Deathwing! Nathanos thought of the mad black dragon, who had vanished for years. Onyxia actually thought of using the Worldbreaker to threaten him? The Witherer laughed and replied, "What? You want to see your father?"

This question left Onyxia speechless for a moment; she didn't know how to react. To say she wanted to see him would be a lie. Her mission had failed; everything she had painstakingly built in Stormwind City had vanished, Neltharion wouldn't let her go. So she could only run, frantically searching for hiding places to escape Deathwing's wrath.

Seeing that Onyxia was speechless, Nathanos continued what he was doing, unbuttoning the woman's purple outer garment. She was startled by his action.

What is this Undead trying to do? He wants...

Onyxia forced herself to remain calm. She knew the Undead were infertile, but that didn't mean they lacked certain desires. Now, the Black Dragon Princess's alluring body was laid bare before the leader of the Forsaken.

"What are you up to?"

Nathanos glanced at her, and whatever vile thoughts were swirling in the dragon's mind, he saw only her folly.

"Make sure you obediently become a prisoner of the Forsaken," he said, then frowned as he stared at Onyxia's wound. He slowly peeled away the gauze to examine the wound, thinking that Ohan had indeed exercised restraint. He touched the edge of the wound with the tip of his leather-armored left finger. Onyxia's breathing immediately tightened.

Obediently becoming a prisoner of the Forsaken? What does that mean? Onyxia thought to herself that once she recovered from her injuries, she would definitely escape and make these Undead pay the price.

Unless... her injuries never heal! Suddenly, the Black Dragon Princess knew what the Witherer was about to do.

"This is a new type of concoction developed by my Alchemist Association." Nathanos produced an IV drip bottle. In that instant, Onyxia felt fear. She wanted to beg Nathanos to spare her, but her dignity as a black dragon wouldn't allow her to do so.

"Just one drop, it won't hurt, but it will stop any wound from healing..."