Azeroth had four very lively Old Gods, which left the Stonewright speechless.
In other words, it would take at least four Night Warriors risking their lives to have any chance of dealing with that planet!
Although she felt that Azeroth's future was bleak, the Stonewright did not say so.
People needed some hope to live on.
Besides, the Stonewright had a strong grasp of the bigger picture, and her thinking had already broken free of the confines of a single planet.
If things proved impossible, they could simply move to another planet to develop, or even come to Revendreth.
The world of the dead only sounded frightening.
In fact, this was quite a good choice too!
There were mountains, water, and plants here. The sky was just a little dim, and there were just a teensy bit too many undead creatures.
If Sire Denathrius knew what the Stonewright was thinking, he would probably explode with rage on the spot.
Letting such a dangerous enemy develop in Revendreth-was she sure she was not plotting to usurp his throne?
The Stonewright had not studied politics much during her lifetime.
Otherwise, she would not have become a Night Warrior and perished together with an Old God.
Expecting a pure warrior to have political awareness really was asking a little too much!
After giving Herad some very good ideas based on her own experience fighting an Old God, she left the Dreadfall Ruins with her subordinates.
Draeven, who had obtained the first weapon of his life, admired his claw gauntlets with satisfaction.
The claw gauntlets were made entirely of stygian iron.
Every component was exquisite, like a glittering work of art.
When Draeven closed his claws, he felt no stiffness or catching at all.
He marveled, "These claw gauntlets are so flexible! Those metal