Note: a slight change in Canon for the Lore nerds this chapter. If you’re not one, you won’t even notice the tweak in history.

All hell broke loose as meteorite after meteorite bombarded the golem. Its knee was taking a beating, and molten rock dripped onto the ground beneath.

Vandercross allowed himself a small smirk of pride, before erasing it from his face, and concentrating on the battle.

Arrows streaked into waiting shields, fire shook the earth, and the sound of chaos entered his ears.

It was a symphony of violence he hadn't experienced in many a year.

Taking a deep breath to taste the moment, Vandercross snapped his fingers, and redirected the mana from an arrow into his Mana Stones. He then fed the energy into Earthwarder's golem, healing the construct.

The golem stomped the ground, launching a wave of earth spikes towards his son and his companions.

Vandercross looked on with bated breath, eager to see what his son's response would be.

Varrus did not disappoint, and raised a wall of stone to meet the oncoming attack.

The resulting collision caused a huge plume of rocky debris to occlude the air.

“Starbottle, I want vision.” Vandercross ordered.

“Not even a hello.” The silver haired Elf, Starbottle pouted, yet got to work, as Vandercross knew she would.

Bringing out a cauldron, Starbottle tapped it, and muttered some incantations. A moment later, the dust and debris was all vacuumed into her pot. She began to toss in some herbs, and pull in the moonlight, but Vandercross paid her no mind, as all his attention was focused on his son.

Standing protectively over him, Syra held Varrus up as an aftershock earthquake from the golem began a landslide.

Rocks and other loose rubble began to tumble down into the massive crater that once was the Sunwell, causing everyone to lose their balance.

“Firecaster.” Vandercross arched an eyebrow at a redheaded Elf twice as tall as any normal Highborn.

The redheaded mage replied with a raised eyebrow of his own.

Glancing downward, Vandercross realized that the mage had already adjusted to the earthquake, and cast a levitation charm on all of them.

“Very good. Dawnbringer?”

“Yes, yes, is it my turn to perform? Wouldn't want the boy to think his father is in the company of layabouts, would we?” A portly Elf dressed in priestly garb held his belly in jolly good fun as he stepped forward.

“Bring the hammer down if you please.” Vandercross sternly nodded.

“Reminds me of our first fight.” Dawnbringer chuckled as he began to vocalize a mantra for his spell.

“If you could even call it a fight. I seem to recall much flailing on your part.” Bloodchanter scoffed from within his suit of enchanted thorium plate armor.

Dawnbringer gave Bloodchanter the stink eye whilst he finished up his chant, but could not retort lest he break the spell.

“Bloodchanter, this is Vandercross’s big day.” Starbottle admonished from her kettle with a smile.

“Swords out, Bloodchanter, Rho'dan is coming near.” Vandercross stated, ignoring the banter between his fellow councilors.

“The kid? He can't even touch my boots!” Bloodchanter scoffed, yet he drew his sword all the same.

The thorium blade gleamed murderous red in the moonlight. As the light reflected off the sword, runes inscribed along the blade began to glow. A moment later, the sword caught aflame with silver fire.

“Ah, I always loved that effect. Kill for me, Dunidri-” Bloodchanter got out, with the intent to say his sword's name aloud, only to be interrupted by Dawnbringer as he finished his spell.

“HAMMER OF JUSTICE!” Dawnbringer shouted.

A moment later, a translucent golden hammer the size of a bus, and made of Light energy descended from the heavens upon Varrus's position.

In the meantime, Vandercross had been constantly conjuring Mana Stones, and absorbing all of Varrus's magical attacks, or redirecting those that broke through his defense.

It was due to Vandercross’s ability to stall and buy time, that his son was caught out of position, and unable to defend in time.

Glancing at the pretty blonde by Varrus's side, Vandercross eagerly awaited her response.

Jumping up to meet the threat, Syra slashed her blade at the hammer. A giant sword made of Light energy only a quarter as big as Dawnbringer's hammer extended out from her sword.

It was not enough.

The force of the hammer was too great and pressed Syra back toward the ground.

Falling mercilessly towards them, Vandercross found himself unconsciously glancing at Dawnbringer.

“What can I do? The magic binding us has me attack with the intention to kill!” Dawnbringer held up his thick arms, and protested his innocence.

Vandercross imperceptibly nodded his head in acceptance, then turned back to the fight.

‘Is that all you are capable of?’ Vandercross thought in some disappointment, but mostly, he was worried instead of displeased.

Was it as he had feared? Was Varrus truly coerced or tricked into this encounter?

However, Vandercross’s worries were unfounded as a flash of violet intertwined with gold erupted from Syra, and she cut through the Hammer of Judgement with ease.

“Practicing the Void, isn't that illegal? Who could have suggested such a law?!” Bloodchanter tsked, and side eyed Vandercross.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Vandercross ignored his compatriots' teasing, and critically eyed Syra for the tell-tale sign of corruption that all Elven Void users were susceptible to.

However, he didn't notice any change in the color of her eyes, nor in her skin palette.

“Magnificent, simply magnificent. Truly, only a one in a million, generational talent could imbue their body with both Light, and Void at the same time, and be corrupted by neither.” Vandercross amplified his voice, as well as the clap of his hands so that they could be heard by his son and daughter-in-law.

“I swear he let his son take to the stage and act, so that he could live out the fantasy vicariously.” Bloodchanter muttered.

“If you're going to stand around and sass, make yourself useful, and start enchanting these herbs for me.” Starbottle flipped her silver hair at the fully encased Elf within a suit of crimson armor.

“Sorry Star, you heard the First Seat, Rho'daaan is making his way here along with the rest of Vandercross’s House Guard. Tah!” Bloodchanter mocked as he strode away.

“More than 8,000 years old, and Bloodchanter still acts like a child. Can you believe it, Firecaster?” Starbottle turned towards the tall redheaded mage with her hands on her hips.

“...enchanting is not my specialty.” Firecaster disappeared in a whiff of flame.

“Patience, Star, he is needed to battle the Loa.” Vandercross pointed at an aerial battle that was taking place between their summoner Rommath against Jan'alai, and Kael’Thas.

“Our summoner brought back a potions expert with shoddy ingredients to work with.” Starbottle grumbled. “Fine Vandercross, this is your big day. I'll show that boy of yours why alchemy is the greatest magic!” Starbottle grinned madly to herself as she began to mutter an incantation over her brew.

“Earthwarder, protect Star, and harass the other fights from a distance. Be aware that they have a lieutenant ranger in their ranks. I do not want a repeat incident like last time. Meanwhile, I shall buy us time for Star’s potion to reach completion.” Vandercross said over his shoulder.

“It was one time! You can rely on me. No camouflage or invisibility is getting past my earth sense!” Earthwarder, a rare green haired Elf, stuck his face out of the golem’s toe, and grinned down at Vandercross from 10ft up.

“Just go be with your boy, Vandercross! This will be the last time you see him after all!” Starbottle cackled as she added a pinch of lemon into the bubbling pot.

Vandercross felt his cheek twitch, but didn't deign any of his colleagues' antics with a response.

Managing this group of Heroes was like babysitting a group of monkeys at the zoo. They were proof that just because they were the strongest, didn't make them the most fit to rule.

Vandercross prayed that whatever form the Convocation had taken on in this new era, that Varrus didn't have to deal with the same competing interests of self entitled Highborn focused on stroking their own egos.

Withholding a sigh, Vandercross reigned in his disappointment at his compatriots lack of decorum, and instead allowed a small, measured smile as he floated towards Varrus and his wife Syra.

For thousands of years, Vandercross had remained fatherless. His whole focus was on maintaining the stability of Quel'Thalas, and holding onto his office.

At first, he had resented the Sunstriders. Simply for the fact that his childhood friend turned rival had come across a vial containing waters from the Well of Eternity which led to him being proclaimed King.

But after centuries of bitter lawfair, and petty battles ranging from contests in fashion to dueling one another via proxies or conducting assassinations, a change in leadership arose once his childhood friend, Anasterian rose to sit upon the Phoenix Throne.

This peace between him and the crown was all thanks to a mutual childhood friend of theirs, Faedra.

The young girl who had followed Anastarian and him everywhere, and tagged along for their adventures had cemented herself as the glue that bound him and Anasterian together.

Anasterian was feeling buyer's remorse from the political marriage he had with his first wife, Lana'thel. His children under her care had grown to exemplify the very worst traits found amongst Highborn. Prideful, arrogant, unknowing of the struggle the older generation went through to claim these lands, they took for granted the privilege that Vandercross and Anastarian had fought for.

So Faedra hatched a scheme to produce Anastarian a new heir, as well as a bridge to connect the two feuding friends.

In her family tree, women always gave birth to twins. With a bit of magic, the gender could be manipulated.

And so, to facilitate his part in this scheme, Vandercross had come to call himself father.

He admitted to himself that he had indulged the child, ignorant as to the finer intricacies of parenthood. Vandercross thought to allow the boy a century or two to sow his wild oats, then he would get down to instructing him in his family magic.

Little did Vandercross know, the child he had raised had grown up so fast! Just last month, Varrus was causing trouble on the boardwalk, and complaints flooded Vandercross’s office due to his son’s playboy antics. Now he was tossing out meteorites like candy on Hallow's End.

The shock, anger, and awe Vandercross felt at this hidden talent was a concoction of emotions that left Vandercross dazed, yet above all else, proud.

Withholding a sigh, Vandercross felt regret that he could not spend more time with this child of his. Eight thousand years of political maneuvering, and yet their time spent together was not even a 50th of his life.

As he levitated towards his son, he saw the love, care, and concern on his, and Syra's faces, and he couldn't be more happy with his decision.

They threw everything at him in an effort to stop his advance, only endearing them in his heart. The more they tried to kill him, the more satisfied he became with their ever escalating means of attack.

Meteorites, slashes of Holy Void sword cuts, and a dozen other desperate magical attacks flew at Vandercross in a flurry as he hovered ever nearer.

Vandercross threw up a Mana Stone, intercepting a meteorite. Not only the fire element was absorbed, but also the momentum behind the attack.

He then released this pent up energy back at Varrus with a wave of his hand.

Fire and brimstone collided with the Holy Void crescent sword slash Syra sent at him, causing a massive explosion.

Vandercross snapped his fingers, and a mirror-like armor of crystalline Mana Stones coated his form just in time to defend against a surprise attack coming from above.

Whilst he had been occupied with Syra's unique mixture of powers, Varrus had unleashed a giant fireball atop Vandercross's head.

“And the Sun rises!” Varrus shouted in dramatic fashion as he brought the spell down.

The night sky was pierced by this giant, spinning orb of death, and was aglow with the sight of fiery demise.

Vandercross minutely nodded his head in respect as he could sense the power and magnitude coursing through that fireball based solely on the density of mana it contained.

For the first time, Vandercross treated Varrus as a threat, and countered this grand spell with one of his own.

Previously, Vandercross had been throwing up a Mana Stone here and there acting as a shield to absorb an attack. This time, he had taken that same concept, and magnified it 100x.

A jagged mountain of a Mana Stone formed out from under Vandercross as he completed a quick chant.

Its form was hollow, and lacking in any real mana like a true Mana Stone, however its internal crystalline structure made it ideal for absorbing large amounts of energy.

When the giant ball of sunlight collided with Vandercross’s jagged mountain, fire exploded everywhere in a cataclysmic eruption reminiscent of a volcano's anger.

Glass, heat, debris, and flame flowed all around Vandercross. He stood still with his eyes wide open, and took in the beautiful destruction from the safety of his crystalline armor.

The formerly translucent white mountain had now become red, like a true volcano. That same fiery energy coursed throughout his armor, empowering Vandercross with fire elemental magic.

Drawing upon the flames in the mini mountain, Vandercross conjured a thousand Fire Elementals, and commanded that they all charged at Varrus.

He then drew his shortsword, and slowly levitated towards the girl who had married his son.

“I will make you proud, father Vandercross.” Syra saluted with her giant buster sword.

Vandercross composed himself, and made sure to adopt a look of aloof indifference.

“You are promising, young lady. Most impressive indeed. Now let us see if your steel is as spectacular as your feat of achieving the mixture of Holy and Void.” Vandercross bowed, then lunged forward, blade in hand.