Everything happening in Krokuun had nothing to do with Dick for the time being.
He also knew very well how many Mana Bombs Hatuun, who had finally resolved his inner turmoil, had buried in the rock strata beneath Krokuun over the past forty-odd days... They represented nearly a year of work by all the mages of Quel'Thalas and Dalaran.
On Azeroth or Draenor, no one would have been mad enough to use such insane tactics, but on Argus, in that place where hope was already gone, even Hatuun himself no longer cared. He was willing to die in his own world, willing to give everything for it, but deep down, Hatuun also knew that with their current strength, fighting the demons was out of the question, let alone transforming Argus.
Argus had already been completely hollowed out... All they could do was let this world die with dignity and send it into the final hell, together with the scum clinging to Argus and sucking its blood.
The Sargerite Keystone had very strict operating requirements. This spatial artifact, which Sargeras had held for countless ages, relied on its internal energy to tear through spatial barriers and construct a system resembling a network of wormhole nodes, allowing rapid travel between demon planets.
But anything that relied on energy had limits!
The Keystone could not escape that limitation either. The energy it could release at any one time was limited, and over the past few years, Illidan had figured out its maximum output. If they disregarded the damage, it could even pull a planet through, but that would amount to treating a reusable Keystone as a disposable consumable.
Dick and Illidan would never drain the pond to catch the fish, and this was also why they had established four fleets totaling 150,000 soldiers.