“Are you certain that this is wise?” Krasus asked cautiously as he observed the strange white monolith that dominated the region of Draenor the locals referred to as Nagrand.
The vessel used by the draenei to traverse the Twisting Nether and arrive on this world resembled a massive crystal mountain. Given the many spirits he could sense drifting around the structure, it was no surprise that the orcs called it Oshu’gun, or ‘Mountain of Spirits.’
Krasus turned his attention to Prophet Velen with his selected group who would accompany him on this mission. It had only been a few weeks since he had made contact with the draenei, but Velen was by far the oldest looking of his kind that Krasus had seen so far. He possessed a long white beard and purple skin etched with wrinkles, but he displayed a strength of body that could only be due to the Light’s empowerment.
“I am quite certain, Archmage Krasus,” said Prophet Velen as he stared at the structure with a forlorn expression. The translation spell taught to him by Lord Malygos worked smoother and more accurately than the one Krasus had used before. “I was prepared to abandon the Genedar if necessary, but the Light has delivered you to my people in our hour of greatest need. So, I see no reason to do so now. It would be to our great benefit if we prevented the Burning Legion from capturing K’ure and the Genedar.”
Genedar was how the draenei referred to the trans-dimensional ship and K’ure was the naaru that was currently trapped inside. Krasus agreed with Velen that bringing the Genedar to Azeroth would be a great victory, but it was not without risks.
“The demon presence on the ship is likely to be significant,” said Krasus as he observed the subtle ward of Fel magic erected around the structure. While it was designed primarily to prevent spirits from leaving or K’ure from making contact with the outside world, the ward would also alert any demons inside when they breached its perimeter. “Your people will need your leadership once they are transported to Azeroth. Risking your life in such a direct assault could result in catastrophic consequences.”
Velen’s gaze did not waver from the Genedar and his expression hardened with resolve. “My people need hope more than anything else, Archmage Krasus. If we can secure K’ure and the vessel that kept them safe for millennia, we give them not just hope, but a future as well. It is a risk I am willing to take.”
He paused and turned to look at the gathered group. “It is not my intention to recklessly endanger myself or those who have put their faith in me. We will approach this mission with caution and strategy. We will work together as we always have, and Light willing, we will prevail.”
Krasus took in the expressions of the gathered draenei and could not see the slightest hint of fear in any of them. In the short time that he had known them, it had become clear to Krasus that these people had been honed by countless hardships directed toward the draenei by the Burning Legion.
Since the draenei encampment was far from the Genedar, Krasus was only able to bring as many as he was able to carry on his back. Despite this, he had no doubt that these few elite warriors would be enough to purge the structure of its demonic occupants.
With a sigh, Krasus acquiesced. “Very well. I suppose then that we should go over our strategy one final time so that there is no miscommunication.”
One of the draenei paladins, a hulking man in shimmering armor and carrying a crystalline warhammer, stepped forward. Vindicator Maraad was apparently one of Velen’s strongest remaining warriors and one of the first to volunteer for this mission.
“Our primary goal is to clear the Genedar of demons as quickly as possible and prepare it to be teleported to Azeroth. The demons will attempt to call for reinforcements and summon more of their kind. So swiftness is of the essence. We must strike hard and fast.”
“We should also make a priority to secure K’ure,” said Ishanah, a stern-faced priestess of the Light. “The demons may seek to destroy the naaru once they realize that they can no longer hold the Genedar.”
Krasus nodded in agreement. It wasn’t a particularly detailed plan, but there wasn’t much else that they could do with their limited knowledge of the enemy forces. There was only one more detail that they needed to address.
“Will we be moving as a single group, or will we be moving separately so that we can clear the Genedar more quickly?” asked Krasus, as he deliberately glanced toward a certain figure who was standing away from the group.
His implication obvious, everyone turned to look toward the former leader of the Vindicators, the defenders of the draenei society. Akama barely resembled the rest of the draenei, his mouth filled with a row of needle sharp teeth and his face deformed and elongated.
According to Velen, the Broken were draenei who had been corrupted by the foul magic of the orc warlocks when the draenei’s former capital city of Shattrath was besieged. Akama and the Broken had been exiled from draenei society due to prejudices caused by their loss of the innate ability to wield the Light. However, Prophet Velen had called for the Broken to be brought back to the draenei’s hidden camp, in a marsh on the coast of the Zangar Sea, once Krasus had offered the draenei way off Draenor.
“I will move alone and clear the upper portions of the Genedar,” said Akama, his voice rougher and more gravely than that of any of the other draenei. “Vindicator Maraad is correct. We must move swiftly, and we cannot do so if half of you are too busy watching me while expecting a blade in your backs.”
Krasus noticed a mixture of relief and shame flashing across the expressions of the gathered draenei, but nobody voiced an objection. There would come a time when the draenei would have the opportunity to fix the fissures in their society, but that time was not now.
“Once we are prepared, I will inform Lord Malygos so that he can begin the ritual to transport your people to Azeroth,” Krasus said, cutting through the awkward silence that followed Akama’s words. “The spell will cause a disturbance to Draenor’s leylines capable of being felt by any skilled magic user on the planet. The Burning Legion is likely to develop countermeasures against this once they have fully realized what has happened, but your people and the Genedar should be far away from here by that point.”
Krasus could see the overwhelming relief that overcame the draenei at the reminder that they would soon be away from Draenor. He couldn’t even begin to understand the scale of torment they must have endured on this cursed world. Krasus had already quietly evacuated several other native groups across to Azeroth over the past year and they had all been glad to leave. However, the draenei were the largest group and had suffered the most at the hands of the Horde.
“My people owe you and those on Azeroth a debt that can never truly be repaid,” Velen said, his voice overwhelmed with gratitude.
“You are wrong,” Krasus said immediately, shaking his head. “Your people can repay us by aiding us against the Burning Legion, but we can speak more on that later. We cannot afford to waste any more time.”
The Prophet nodded in agreement. “You are correct. My people and I are ready to face the demons within Genedar at any time. Please inform your leader to begin the ritual to transport my people to your world once you are ready.”
Seeing no reason not to do so, Krasus nodded in turn and began casting the communication spell that would put him into contact with Lord Malygos. It was amazing to him that such a spell could function across worlds, but that was to be expected from the Aspect of Magic.
After a few moments, Krasus could hear the irritated voice of Lord Malygos echoing in his mind.
“Korialstrasz? What is it? Are those draenei finally prepared to leave that demon infested world of theirs?”
“Yes they are, Lord Malygos,” Krasus quickly confirmed. “We are currently preparing to purge the Genedar of demons and will begin as soon we feel the arcane aftershocks of your spell.”
“Hmph. Then I will begin casting the spell now. Contact me again once you’ve secured the vessel and used the artifact I provided you to prepare it for transportation.”
Without waiting for a response, Lord Malygos terminated the mental connection. Krasus turned to the draenei and quickly updated them on the situation. The draenei murmured words of acknowledgment and began making their final preparations for the fight ahead. Krasus had significantly overestimated how long it would take Lord Malygos to complete his spell and it wasn’t long before everyone flinched in surprise as the leylines of Draenor shook.
The feeling reminded him much of the Dark Portal’s opening, though somewhat less dramatic. After the disturbance ceased, Krasus gave a curt nod to Velen who turned to the gathered draenei.
“May the Light protect us,” Velen murmured as he raised his staff and a soft glow washed over them all. Krasus could feel the Light bolstering his courage and banishing any hint of exhaustion as he called upon his own magic to begin casting defensive spells over himself.
When their final preparations were complete, Prophet Velen once more called upon the Light and shattered the Fel ward around the Genedar. Vindicator Maraad began quickly leading them from the front through the crystalline tunnels that would take them to the vessel's interior. As they traveled further, Krasus could sense the ambient magic gradually growing more corrupted by the Burning Legion’s foul Fel magic.
The group charged through the tunnels, and it wasn’t long before they entered the Genedar. Krasus was immediately struck by the strange nature of the vessel’s hallways, constructed with an unusual combination of metal and crystals. Krasus observed ruefully that they were too small for him to shift to his true form as they were confronted by their first demon.
The winged creature was similar to most sapient races on Azeroth in that it had two arms and two legs, but that was where the similarities ended. The demon’s head was surrounded by six twisted horns and its torso contained two eyes and a gaping maw that spewed forth Fel magic as the creature rushed forward on cloven hooves.
“Terrorfiend!” shouted Vindicator Maraad, his eyes filled with fury as he charged the demon with his crystalline warhammer raised.
The demon thrust a jagged sword and released a stream of Fel fire from its torso-mouth that would have incinerated a common warrior. Vindicator Maraad merely danced to the side of the incoming blow, protected from the fire by the Light, and swung his warhammer with enough force to decapitate the demon in a single blow.
“They know we are here now,” Priestess Ishanah murmured as the creature collapsed to the floor.
“Then we should move quickly,” Krasus said, shaking off his surprise as to how quickly the demon was dispatched. “Akama, you sho—”
Krasus turned to search for the Broken, only to realize that he had already left, presumably to begin clearing the Genedar’s upper floors.
“Akama has never been one to waste time,” Prophet Velen said with a light chuckle. “Let us get moving. I can hear K’ure calling for our aid.”
With that, the group broke into a fast sprint towards the lower chamber where the naaru was being held. The demons charged at them with reckless abandon and did everything they could to slow their progress, but they had clearly been unprepared to stand against an Archmage and the draenei’s most powerful warriors.
The demons varied in strength and size, from gnome-sized cackling imps to the magic devouring fel hounds. The imps were nuisances, flooding the halls as they flung tiny fireballs from every direction that forced Krasus to summon arcane barriers around the group. The fel hounds were more dangerous. Their magic resistance posed a notable threat to Krasus in his mortal form, but Maraad was able to make short work of them with his warhammer. Prophet Velen was also able to quickly heal any wounds they sustained and regularly cleared the hallway of demons with bursts of Light.
Only the Terrorfiends truly caused them significant issues, as they were deceptively cunning and didn’t hesitate to take advantage of distractions caused by the lesser demons.
As they progressed further into the Genedar, Krasus suddenly spotted a Terrorfiend emerging from a hallway they had just passed, its hideous form lunging toward Ishanah with its maw wide open ready to devour her.
Realizing that he couldn’t intercept the Terrorfiend with a fireball without hitting Ishalah, Krasus swiftly cast a geomancy spell that he had learned from the nerubians. Moments before the demon could devour the draenei priestess one of the hallway’s crystals extended from the ground and skewered the Terrorfiend through its maw.
Ishalah looked back in surprise before turning to look at Krasus with a grateful expression. “Thank you, Archmage.”
Krasus nodded in acknowledgment but quickly turned his attention back to the fight. Their progress was slow and the numerous demons continued to attack them on their path, but Velen’s Light kept them strong as they moved forward.
Eventually, the group reached what appeared to be the center of the ship, a large open chamber in which several demons were summoning more of their kind through small portals. K’ure, a being of floating scintillating crystals, was constantly emitting a sense of pain and despair. The naaru’s light was far dimmer than Krasus expected.
The source of the naaru’s pain was obvious as Krasus spotted a Shivarra demon standing close to it. The creature resembled an unnaturally tall female elf with six arms holding cruelly curved blades. This particular Shivarra was channeling Fel magic directly into K’ure in an obvious attempt to corrupt the naaru.
The more dangerous demon however was the one standing next to the Shivarra
“Defilers!” The Doomlord’s voice was like a thousand grating rocks, echoing ominously throughout the room. “I am Doom Lord Kaz’eth, and I will tear your souls asunder!”
The demon was similar in appearance to the Terrorfiends, except being significantly larger in size and lacking the characteristic maw stretching across its torso. Doom Lord Kaz’eth swung his massive greatsword and unleashed a wave of Fel fire that surged toward them.
The attack was only stopped by a hastily made barrier of Light by Velen. Krasus decided to respond in kind and let loose a large stream of Life-infused fire toward the demons opening the portals. Life was not quite as inimical to demons as the Light, but the disgusting creatures still screamed as his flames washed over them.
Within moments, nearly two dozen demons had been burned to ashes. The demons holding the portals open didn’t last much longer as Krasus impaled them on multiple spears of ice that he launched with a wave of his hand.
“There,” Krasus said with a smirk of satisfaction. “Now we don’t need to worry about any more reinforcements.”
“Do not grow over confident,” Velen warned firmly. “The Doomlords are among the more powerful demons in the Burning Legion.”
As if intending to prove the Prophet’s point, the enormous demon charged them at a speed belying its bulk and swung its sword with the intention of bisecting Vindicator Maraad. Krasus erected his strongest arcane barrier to deflect the blow and was shocked when the barrier started to crack. Such a barrier was strong enough to sustain multiple blows from most fully grown dragons, yet the Doomlord had nearly destroyed it in a single hit.
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Vindicator Maraad didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity given to him and let loose a furious roar as he struck the demon’s knee with his warhammer. Doom Lord Kaz’eth grunted in pain but wasn’t otherwise harmed. Before it could react, Krasus cast another spell that teleported himself and the rest of the group to the other side of the chamber.
Properly repositioned, Krasus released a barrage of arcane missiles at the two remaining demons as Vindicator Maraad attacked the Doomlord to keep it away from the rest of the group. Velen and Ishalah joined in, alternating between casting powerful defensive magics and healing any wounds Maraad sustained from the demon.
The draenei proved why he was one of his peoples strongest warriors as he deftly weaved between the Doomlord’s vicious attacks while retaliating with Light enhanced strength. Eventually, the Shivarra must have realized that it wouldn’t be able to corrupt the naaru in time because it quite suddenly lunged toward Maraad with all six of its blades swinging toward the draenei’s back.
Krasus attempted to skewer it from its blindspot with a geomancy controlled crystal, but the Shivarra dodged the blow with supernatural intuition. Just as he was about to cast another spell, the Shivarra was suddenly stopped dead as Akama emerged from the shadows and buried his sickle-like weapon into the creature’s skull.
What good timing, Krasus thought with relief as the Broken draenei immediately threw himself at the Doomlord.
From there, the outcome of the battle was inevitable as they all turned their attention to the last remaining demon. The Doomlord was a formidable foe, but there was little that it could do against Velen’s overwhelming strength in the Light. The Prophet constantly created barriers of Light to shield his followers and healed any wounds that they sustained the instant it occurred. All the while he shone with a brilliance that bolstered them and weakened the demon.
In one instance, Doom Lord Kaz’eth struck Maraad with a blow that nearly removed his arm, only for the wound to be healed a moment later.
The demon’s death finally came when Akama leapt onto its shoulder and buried his sickles into the Doomlord’s eyes. As it screamed, Vindicator Maraad slammed his warhammer into the demon’s side, throwing it off balance. Krasus didn’t hesitate to follow up by summoning a cloud of frozen mist around the demon that quickly transformed into hundreds of icy insects that tore at its flesh. Velen and Ishalah joined their efforts, bathing Doom Lord Kaz’eth in pure Light.
The demon let out a guttural scream as it writhed in agony. Eventually, the creature stilled and silence fell over the chamber, save for the calming chimes being made by the naaru.
“Is everyone alright?” Krasus asked, looking over the draenei.
“We are all well, Archmage Krasus,” said Prophet Velen, his voice distracted as he made his way over to the naaru.
Velen placed his hand on one of the floating crystals that made up the entity’s body, a light shimmering between his fingers. K’ure’s light began to pulse more strongly, but it was obvious to everyone that the naaru was not in a good condition.
“K’ure has been severely weakened and is still at risk of falling to the Void,” Velen said gravely. “We must act quickly to teleport the Genedar to Azeroth so that we may give them the help they need.”
Prophet Velen had warned Krasus that the naaru had a tendency to be corrupted by the Void once they were completely drained of their Light. He didn’t quite understand the magical principles involved, but Velen claimed that they would be able to heal the naaru with the assistance from more practitioners of the Light.
Krasus wasn’t too concerned about the matter, as the Aspects should be more than capable of handling the situation even in the worst case scenario.
“Understood,” said Krasus as he reached into his spatial bag. “I will begin preparing the Genedar for transportation.”
Fortunately, Lord Malygos and Keeper Archaedas had prepared a device capable of instantly creating the ritual circle needed for the teleportation spell. Creating a complex ritual circle manually around a structure as large as the Genedar would have taken far too long otherwise.
The device was a compact orb made of pure titansteel, and adorned with various gemstones imbued with magical properties. Its construction was a marvel that could have only been created by a being like Keeper Archaedas. Elegant small runic inscriptions invisible to the mortal eye covered every inch of its surface.
Krasus channeled his magic into the device, causing the gemstones to begin glowing. A low hum resonated from the sphere until it suddenly soared upward and positioned itself in the center of the chamber. It then began to spin, its glow intensifying, before releasing a surge of arcane magic that rippled outward and etched various glyphs into the entire vessel. Krasus could recognize many of them as glyphs symbolizing teleportation, protection, and stabilization.
With the Genedar prepared for transport, Krasus once again cast the spell to contact Lord Malygos.
“Ah, Korialstrasz. It’s good that you finally contacted me. I had begun to believe that you had fallen to the demons. I wasn’t looking forward to watching Alexstrasza sulk after another of her consorts died.
Krasus ignored the Aspect’s morbid words and quickly gave his report. “I apologize, Lord Malygos. The demons were stronger than expected. The Genedar has been prepared for transport and is ready to be brought to Azeroth whenever you desire.”
“Good. The rest of the draenei are wandering around like lost whelps and I already grow tired of them. I am preparing the spell now. The information being given to me by the device tells me that the vessel is larger than expected, so this may take some time.
Without wasting another moment, Lord Malygos severed the mental link. Krasus wasn’t too worried about how long the spell would take considering that Lord Malygos could transport the vessel at all.
“Prepare yourselves, everyone,” Krasus said to the draenei. “The spell to bring the Genedar to Azeroth is underway.”
The draenei gave a round of acknowledgments before huddling around Prophet Velen and the naaru. Krasus was unsurprised to notice that they seemed much less suspicious of Akama than they were before. After several minutes of waiting, the arcane glyphs along the Genedar began to glow with increased intensity and the ambient magic started to grow more turbulent.
As the spell reached its peak and was about to activate, Krasus was a tad startled to hear Prophet Velen chuckling softly.
“Does something amuse you, Prophet?” Krasus asked curiously, raising any eyebrow at Velen.
“Oh, I’m simply imagining how Kil’jaeden will react once he realizes what has happened,” said Velen with a sad smile. “He must have believed that he finally managed to corner and be rid of us. He will be quite furious when he realizes otherwise.”
Krasus wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, but thankfully he didn’t have to. A loud hum filled the chamber and quickly increased in volume, becoming almost unbearable as the glyphs began to grow even brighter. The Genedar itself seemed to vibrate until the entire vessel was suddenly bathed in a bright light that could be seen across the entire Nagrand plains.
When it finally dissipated, there was nothing left where the massive monolith had once stood aside from an equally massive crater.
----------------------------------------
“Explain it to me again, Sathrovarr.”
Kil’jaeden’s voice was deceptively calm as he spoke to the nathrezim he had assigned to carry out his will on Draenor. However, anyone who knew him would already be doing their best to flee his presence at the wrath smoldering in his eyes. His clawed, scarlet hands gripped his felsteel seat until cracks appeared and his two demonic wings quivered with barely restrained power.
The second most powerful demon in the Burning Legion was currently situated on his trans-dimensional ship, the Deceiver’s Throne, flying high above Draenor on the border of the Twisting Nether and the physical plane. Kil’jaeden stared balefully down at the primitive world and imagined how it would appear wreathed in Fel fire.
“Yes, my Lord,” said Sathrovarr, his voice deferential as it transmitted through the scrying spell. “At your command, I sent some of the lesser demons to investigate the magical disturbances that took place first within the marshes near the Zangar Sea and then near the draenei’s broken dimensional ship. Those investigations have revealed that a portion of the draenei likely survived the culling of Shattrath, and that their ship is no longer where it once was. We were also able to detect significant quantities of spatial magic near these locations.”
Kil’jaeden was silent as the nathrezim continued to give their report, his fury only growing with each passing moment. Despite this, his mind was clear as it ran through countless possibilities to explain how this had happened.
The demons he had assigned to guard the dimensional ship had all died and their souls were currently in the process of reforming in the Twisting Nether. Kil’jaeden looked forward to when they did so that he could acquire a firsthand account of what had happened… and let his displeasure at their failure be known.
But until then, he was forced to use the evidence available to him.
“You say there are signs of a draenei camp near the first disturbance,” said Kil’jaeden, interrupting the nathrezim. “How many of the draenei do you believe survived?”
Sathrovarr hesitated for several moments before responding. “It is difficult to say, but I would estimate from the size of their camps that they have no more than a tenth of their previous population, my Lord.”
The news should have eased some of the fury Kil’jaeden felt, but it did not. There had been occasions throughout the millennia when he had done grievous harm to the draenei, only for them to rebuild. Magic and technology could accomplish much, especially when one was desperate.
He had decided to act subtly upon finding the draenei on this primitive world instead of conquering it as he usually did in hopes to end the traitors before they could escape, but he had failed again.
“Continue your report,” Kil’jaeden said evenly.
Once the nathrezim was finished sharing everything he knew for the fourth time, Kil’jaeden ended the communication spell and ordered the demon controlling his ship to return them to the Twisting Nether. Within moments, Kil’jaeden had left the physical realm and was once again within the endless void as time, space, and reality twisted around him.
Kil’jaeden considered what he learned, his mind working at a furious pace. The demon lord ran through countless scenarios, extrapolating possibilities and probabilities from the scant information he possessed. Yet, no matter how he looked at it, one thing remained a stark, infuriating reality.
Velen had escaped. Again.
The boiling fury that Kil’jaeden felt at this fact was enough to send tremors throughout the Twisting Nether. Any lesser demon unfortunate enough to be sensed by Kil’jaeden as he unleashed his wrath was instantly obliterated and met their final death. Even the more powerful demons stayed well away, not daring to risk attracting his attention.
Eventually, Kil’jaeden calmed down enough to begin considering his options. Out of all the possibilities, the most likely one was that draenei were now on Azeroth, something he had gone to great lengths to prevent. The Dark Portal had only been opened after the last of the draenei in Shattrath had been slaughtered and the Horde had taken full control of Draenor.
He had been disappointed when his demons failed to find Velen’s corpse, but such an outcome was expected when significant amounts of fel fire was used in a siege.
Kil’jaeden had even assigned several demons to hunt down the scant few survivors there might be. The thought reminded him that he should seek the personal accounts of these demons and administer appropriate punishment for their failure when he had the time.
Kil’jaeden had far fewer demons on Azeroth than Draenor, but he had no doubt they would report a disturbance in the planet’s leylines at a similar time to when the draenei disappeared. Azeroth was a world with infuriatingly powerful inhabitants, several of whom would be more than capable of such magic.
Aegwynn, Azshara, and Malygos could all have exploited the connection offered by the Dark Portal to accomplish this, but Malygos was a more likely culprit than the others. The Titans’ pet dragons had become vexingly active in Azeroth’s affairs recently, disrupting many of Kil’jaeden’s schemes.
The Horde had achieved less than he had anticipated, one of the Keepers was interacting with the mortal races, and Azeroth in general seemed to be growing more capable of defending themselves against an invasion. The Legion had learned from their failure during the War of the Ancients, and knew that Azeroth first needed to be weakened before an attack could be successful. Yet with the Horde’s failure and with Velen and the traitors who followed him now on Azeroth, any future invasion would become that much more difficult.
This cannot be allowed to continue, Kil’jaeden thought to himself. Sargeras will not be pleased once he learns of this…
In a single moment, Kil’jaeden traveled through the Twisting Nether and appeared within his palace on Argus. He swept through the palace with swift, purposeful strides, his feet leaving a trail of Fel fire in his wake. He ignored the lesser demons assigned to maintaining the structure and made his way to the deeper levels of the place, where none but his highest ranking subordinates were permitted to enter.
It wasn’t long before Kil’jaeden began to hear the pleasant sounds of screams as the Sayaad and jailers tortured those demons unfortunate enough to earn the worst of his ire. The individual who he intended to visit now was perhaps the most unfortunate of those souls.
When he finally reached the lowest portion of his palace, Kil’jaeden reached a room in which five dreadlords were taking turns torturing a disembodied spirit. The spirit could not scream as Kil’jaeden had already taken away its corporeal body in preparation for his plans, but its torment echoed sweetly through the Twisting Nether.
“My lord, we were not expecting you,” said Tichondrius, leader of the nathrezim. The demon’s expression was calm in spite of Kil’jaeden’s sudden appearance.
“I have need of this one,” said Kil’jaeden, gesturing toward the spirit. “The situation on Azeroth has deteriorated and we can no longer afford to allow our enemies to continue consolidating their power. Is he ready to be bound to the artifacts?”
“Of course, my Lord,” Tichondrius said immediately. “He has been ready for some time. We were merely… amusing ourselves while we still had the opportunity.”
“Well the time has now come,” said Kil’jaeden, reaching into the Twisting Nether and retrieving two of the most powerful artifacts in his possession.
Frostmourne and the Helm of Domination instantly suffused the room with potent Death magic, their auras oppressive even by Kil’jaeden’s standards. He had been in possession of them for quite some time, but had been hesitant to use them due to their unclear origins. One of his subordinates had simply found them on a recently conquered world, and no amount of effort was enough to definitively reveal their source.
However, now was no longer the time for caution. Azeroth needed to be weakened now, and these artifacts were the perfect method for doing so.
Kil’jaeden reached out and grasped the spirit, still writhing and moaning from the torment being inflicted upon it. He forced the spirit into the endless abyss that was the Helm of Domination, slowly transforming it into an entity far greater than it ever was in life. The spirit thrashed and shrieked, but it was helpless against Kil’jaeden’s overwhelming might.
Once he was done with the spirit, Kil’jaeden held the Helm of Domination aloft, watching as the eyes of the helm began to glow with a harsh, cold light. “Arise, Gul’dan. Your second life begins today. You will be my hand, my will on Azeroth. You will bring ruin and despair to the denizens of that world, and in doing so, prepare it for the coming of the Burning Legion!”
Even though the Lich King was far more powerful in its current form, the former orc warlock cringed back in fear from Kil’jaeden. He had thoroughly enjoyed the look on Gul’dan’s face when the orc realized his soul had been suffused with enough Fel magic for him to be reborn in the Twisting Nether. He was not nearly so brave in his defiance once Kil’jaeden got his claws into him.
It would have been a kinder fate if the Aspect of Magic had torn Gul’dan’s soul to pieces, but Malygos had either not been feeling kind or didn’t think it worth the effort. Gul’dan had been a fairly powerful warlock, so destroying his soul would have taken some careful preparation.
With Gul’dan attached to the Helm of Domination, Kil’jaeden quickly repeated the process with Frostmourne and a recently forged suit of armor made specifically for this purpose. The artifacts reverberated with raw power and Kil’jaeden could feel the spirit within the helm begin to stir. It was even more powerful than he had anticipated.
“Excellent,” said Kil’jaeden with a sinister grin. “Now, I believe it is time for you to make your entrance, my Lich King.”
“My lord, have you decided where on Azeroth you intend to send us?” asked Mal’Ganis, another of the nathrezim present. “As you know, Northrend is no longer a suitable location for us to gather power.”
Kil’jaeden had discussed his plans for the Lich King extensively with the nathrezim, as he intended to send them to Azeroth with it. The Helm of Domination offered a rare opportunity for Kil’jaeden to send several strong demons past the unique defenses that the Titans left behind around Azeroth. The helm would vastly expand the mind of the Lich King and offer it extremely powerful sensory abilities. Coupled with the fact that Gul’dan had already once been to Azeroth, the Lich King would have no trouble precisely navigating the Twisting Nether to its destination.
“Yes, I have chosen an appropriate location,” said Kil’jaeden. There had been fewer options than he would have preferred. The Lich King needed time away from Azeroth’s powerful defenders as well as plenty of mortals to raise into undeath if it was to become a significant enough threat to weaken the world.
Thankfully, he had scryed and schemed until he settled on a location that he believed would be even superior to Icecrown.
Kil’jaeden explained to the nathrezim where he would be sending them and his reasons for doing so, each one smiling and chuckling at their lord’s genius. When he was done, Kil’jaeden cast a spell that encased the Lich King in a block of indestructible ice that would prevent it from escaping. The nathrezim would serve as its jailors, ensuring the Lich King continued to follow Kil’jaeden’s will.
One by one, the nathrezim merged themselves into the icy construct, their corporeal forms fading until all that was left were ghostly specters imbued within the magical ice. When the final nathrezim, Balnazzar, had joined his brothers, Kil’jaeden walked forward and placed his hand on the frozen block. He reached into the Helm of Domination, communing with the Lich King one final time.
“You understand your purpose. Make Azeroth bleed. Turn their dead against them. Sow terror, pain, and despair. By the time they realize what has happened, it will be too late.” Kil’jaeden’s words were both a command, and a promise of what was to come if Gul’dan failed. “Now, go!”
With a swift motion, Kil’jaeden cast a spell that sent the Lich King hurtling through the Twisting Nether towards an unsuspecting Azeroth.