Corruption

"Your child has been born," Belorell shouted to Krasus, who was engaged in battle. The dragon mage's gaze shifted, and his eyes widened abruptly. He stared at a tiny creature emerging from an egg, multicolored and with five heads.

"No!" Krasus screamed, feeling his heart breaking.

Belorell was startled and hurriedly took several steps back. "He seems a little different." Under the boy's gaze, the young dragon grew. The sounds of its joints and skin stretching were terrifying, completely contrary to the laws of nature. "What's going on? Is he sick? Maybe I can help him."

"No, stay away from him."

Krasus cursed, but Belorell seemed not to hear his warning. Instead, he opened a bottle filled with red liquid and poured it onto the newborn, multicolored dragon.

This must be a medicine specifically for treatment. Belorell thought to himself; his mother had told him to put a drop or two on any wound. If he remembered correctly...

The liquid reacted immediately upon contact with the young dragon's body, but instead of restoring its flesh to normal, it emitted a burnt smell and then began to burn. "I made a mistake!" Belorell exclaimed in alarm.

"No, you did very well." Krasus looked at the young dragon engulfed in flames with a trembling expression. He knew that the Chromatic Dragon was a hideous and evil creature, not even a living being.

This grotesque experimental creation was shaped by Nefarian. He attempted to create a new race possessing the power of the five Dragons. Years ago, Nefarian was defeated in the Battle of Blackrock Spire, meaning his plans had failed. Krasus believed the so-called Chromatic Dragon no longer existed, but now the people of Twilight's Hammer have clearly mastered this technology and are using it on the offspring of the Queen of Dragons.

The Red Dragon mage looked around in terror as more and more Twilight Cultists corrupted the Dragon Egg. With each soft cracking sound, more and more deformed, mutated, multicolored dragon hatchlings emerged from their shells.

"I will kill you all!" Krasus roared in fury. He was furious not only because the invaders were corrupting the unborn dragons, but also because he had to destroy the corrupted children with his own hands.

"Deathwing will rule this world!" a Twilight Cultist murmured. Krasus rushed over, grabbed him, and crushed his throat, blood gushing from his mouth. "Everyone... will submit... to him." The dragon mage tightened his grip, trying to silence the man.

A strange smile formed on the cultist's face, a weak yet triumphant laugh. His hand suddenly gripped Krasus's arm. A strange, tingling sensation shot through him; the Red Dragon mage immediately noticed the dark magic on the man's hand and promptly threw him away.

Krasus gasped as he looked down at his arm. It was too late; his arm was turning black at an alarming rate, and no amount of magic could stop it.

"No!" he whispered. "That's impossible."

"You too..." Belorell looked at Krasus, his face pale. He hadn't known this Red Dragon for long, but he truly didn't want to see him become like those young dragons. "Is there any way I can help you?"

Krasus didn't answer, but stood motionless, squinting as he pondered. Such a commotion had erupted beneath the Wyrmrest Temple, yet no one had come to his aid. Krasus realized something might have happened to the Queen as well, and if the Ruby Sanctum had been invaded, what about the other Dragons sanctuaries? These terrifying thoughts filled Krasus with despair. He quickened his pace, eliminating the invaders, this time no longer caring about harming the Dragon Egg.

The invasion seemed to be over, the Ruby Sanctum engulfed in flames, but the matter was far from over. The corruption continued—the corruption of the Dragon Egg, and the corruption of his own body.

"I will not allow such a thing to happen. The Red Dragonflight will never be arbitrarily distorted."

Krasus looked at the worried boy with apologetic and regretful eyes. Within seconds, he made his final decision and sighed heavily, as if he had made a great decision.

"What's your name, child?"

Belorell gasped for breath amidst the flames, coughing incessantly. "Bello... Belorell."

"Hope?" Krasus stared at him, nodding approvingly. "It is indeed a good name." Tears welled in his eyes, and he forced a smile. "Listen to me, Belorell, it's too late now! They've all begun to hatch in a twisted manner. I'm powerless to stop it."

"No," said Belorell, "I see a perfectly good Dragon Egg over there." He pointed behind Krasus. The dragon mage saw it too; it was the most unique egg in the group of Dragon Egg.

That's pointless; the Dragon Egg won't hatch.

"Belorell." Krasus knelt before the Elf boy, placing his intact hand on his shoulder. He wanted to tell him that for the sake of the entire world, the Ruby Sanctum and the Dragon Egg within it must be destroyed.

This would require a powerful spell, one that would require the caster to use their own life as a conductor, and one with a wide range. Krasus's time was limited, meaning Belorell had no chance of escaping before this point. He still didn't understand why Belorell had come here, but perhaps it was fate. Sacrifice was necessary!

The Red Dragon mage wanted to tell the boy the truth, but those dark, jewel-like eyes made Krasus's throat tighten, and he couldn't speak. The child was innocent; he should have lived... The Red Dragon couldn't utter a single word.

Krasus stood up and slowly closed his eyes. All the energy and magic within him had been mobilized. The spell began, and he took his last breath, saying, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Boom!

Nathanos was awakened by the sound of thunder and rain outside the window. He was not sleeping, but lying with his eyes closed on the stiff stone bed.

Today, instead of staying in Alterac, he chose to spend the day at Shadowfang Keep. The Forsaken have many strongholds around the world, and as their leader, he must be impartial. He must inspect each location, especially after defeating the Lich King, when the people need him even more.

How much time have I wasted?

Nathanos stood by the window, watching the raindrops stream down his face. During his meditation, he kept thinking about that name, that of the Chromatic Dragon named Chromatus. Sadly, Onyxia could tell him no more.

The castle should have been quiet. Apart from the thunder and rain, Nathanos could still hear a discordant sound—the hissing sound of magic being cast.

He turned around, and a portal opened on the wall of the empty room.