"Is that… a Living Storm?"
Vereesa's nerves immediately tensed. She picked up her ancient Amani Longbow, drew an arrow, and aimed at the nearest enemy, awaiting the Prince's command.
"You can also call them Spirit of the Storm, or Storm Nova. They are not true life, merely energy constructs condensed from high-level spells. Their masters are behind them."
Kael'thas's eyes pierced through the swirling storms, seeing figures several times taller than Ogres standing deep within the tomb passage, casting spells.
Their bodies were transparent, not creatures of flesh and blood, but more like a combination of powerful souls and storm elements.
They were the true Spirits of the Storm!
"Your Highness, are those Vrykul? They seem to have died long ago, trapped in this tomb," Vereesa asked.
"They are Vrykul Windcallers," Kael'thas said.
A fierce wind howled, sweeping from deep within the tomb, as if to blow away everything that didn't belong.
The nearest Windcaller suddenly turned, looked at the invaders, and let out an ear-piercing shriek.
Swarms of Storm Nova flew over, threatening to engulf them.
"Your Highness, be careful!"
Lanathel immediately raised the amani empire bulwark, blocking Kael'thas.
The holy sword quel'delar rested on the shield, its tip pointed at the Storm Nova, ready to charge at any moment.
"Leave them to me!"
Sylvanas, having just updated her gear, was full of fighting spirit, standing beside Kael'thas.
Her slender, pale fingers continuously pulled the bowstring, and the energy of the Sunwell transformed into magical arrows, combating magic with magic.
With a rumbling sound, the hit Storm Nova exploded, scattering into pure storm energy.
"Now!"
With all obstacles cleared, Lanathel charged.
A flash of blood-red light, and the waist-high Amani Bulwark slammed heavily into a Windcaller.
The sharp sword tip pierced the ethereal body, and the High Elf magic attached to the sword erupted, inflicting real damage on the ancient Vrykul soul, which had no physical body for protection.
Immediately after, two more arrows passed through the Windcaller's body, flying deeper into the tomb passage.
The Vrykul soul, trapped for an unknown number of millennia, let out a deep sigh and dissipated in the weakening storm.
Kael'thas strode forward.
Lanathel charged ahead, attacking repeatedly.
Sylvanas and Vereesa flanked him, like two great guardians.
Liadrin, staff in hand, followed closely, her Holy Light transforming into Words of Power and Healing spells, accurately landing on Lanathel, fending off the enemy's magical damage.
The five-person team pushed through, eliminating over a dozen Windcallers, and arrived at a four-way intersection deep in the tomb passage, with long tomb passages extending forward and to both sides, leading to unknown crypts.
"Your Highness, which way do we go?" Lanathel asked.
"Which way do you prefer?"
"Left—"
"Then left it is."
The five arrived at the end of the tomb passage. Kael'thas cast another spell, opening the tomb door protected by lightning, and saw a large crypt surrounded by numerous Vrykul souls, each more powerful than the Windcallers in the passage.
And on a high platform deep within the crypt stood a fully armored Vrykul warrior, wielding a sword and shield.
He awoke from his slumber, looked at Kael'thas and the others, and let out a deafening roar.
"Damn Helya!"
"Damn lackeys!"
"I want to see her die!"
"Intruders, you will all die!"
The next moment, he charged at Kael'thas!
"Your Highness!"
Lanathel quickly intercepted, raising her shield to block.
Then came a loud crash as the two shields collided. The sharp one-handed sword cut through the amani empire bulwark as if slicing through butter.
Lanathel was sent flying, crashing heavily to the ground, staring blankly at the epic shield in her hand, which had a deep gash cut into it.
And the Vrykul warrior, several times more powerful than General Salorian, charged at the Prince again.
"I am His Highness's personal guard!"
"You won't harm His Highness before I fall!"
Charge, and charge again!
The two warriors collided once more!
Lanathel was sent flying again, and the amani empire bulwark was once again cut with a gash.
But this time, the Vrykul warrior couldn't continue his charge.
Because a large fireball and two sharp arrows arrived almost simultaneously before him, containing powerful energy that he could not ignore.
The Vrykul warrior blocked three attacks with a shield bash, letting out a roar.
The dozen or so Vrykul standing at the edge of the crypt all rushed forward, some casting spells, others engaging in physical attacks.
Their movements were swift and decisive, never dragging, each action simple and clear, with perfect coordination.
They were the burial guards chosen by an ancient Vrykul king, each one an elite among elites.
Lanathel quickly launched a third charge, but found herself floating.
Not just her, everything around her floated, including her teammates, and her enemies.
"It's His Highness's spell!" Lanathel realized.
Then she heard the Prince's voice.
"Magni Bronzebeard, legendary Vrykul King, Val'kyr Champion, Nerubian Slayer, bane of the High Elves, legendary blacksmith, creator and wielder of the earth guardian's scale and Scalebreaker."
Kael'thas blinked behind the Vrykul King, his mage's divine sword, burning with magical flames, stabbing towards his body: "You are dead!"
"No!"
"You lie!"
Magni Bronzebeard suddenly turned, the earth guardian's scale blocking Flame Strike, spewing shadowy flames representing the wrath of Neltharion.
The power of the Earth Guardian and High Elf magic, for the first time in history, were evenly matched!
"I am Odyn's champion, I am the chosen champion, I will not die!"
Magni Bronzebeard roared, swinging Scalebreaker at Kael'thas, which was again blocked by Flame Strike. Neither divine sword could overcome the other.
At this moment, he heard the sound of rushing air and, without turning his head, swung his shield, intending to block the elf ranger's arrows and Lanathel's charge.
"You died thousands of years ago, by a despicable betrayal!"
Kael'thas quietly cast a spell, and time twisted at that moment. Everything around Magni Bronzebeard accelerated.
Two arrows successfully avoided the shield and shot through his body, and Lanathel's holy sword was also deeply embedded in him!
"The power of time distortion, damn spellcaster!"
Magni Bronzebeard was heavily wounded, his already ethereal body flickering.
The magic attached to the arrows caused real damage to his soul.
The stinging pain from the soul level lessened millennia of numbness and rage, and fragments of ancient memories surfaced in his mind, making him dazed.
But the instinct of millennia of warfare drove him to continue attacking.
"The wrath of justice burns in your heart, and the hatred from your life blinds your mind, preventing you from receiving the proper ascension."
In a flash of brilliant light, Kael'thas vanished from his sight, simultaneously appearing in four directions: front, back, left, and right.
Mirror Image!
All four Kael'thas moved in unison, an Infernal Blast fireball condensing in each palm.
Magni Bronzebeard couldn't distinguish, he could only instinctively charge towards one of them.
But he chose wrongly!
A massive Infernal Blast fireball hit his body, and the imploding shockwave brought unprecedented pain, awakening even more ancient memories.
"I—…—died?"
"Yes, I died, ambushed by traitors and Helya's minions."
"But those who ambushed me also died under my Death Whirlwind!"
Magni Bronzebeard's body suddenly erupted in brilliant white light, becoming increasingly ethereal. His gaze swept over everyone, finally landing on Lanathel.
"My weapons are yours, warrior."
"May they slay Helya's minions and bring you glory."
His soul completely vanished.
"Congratulations, Magni Bronzebeard, you have finally achieved ascension."
"I think we will meet again. When we do, we will fight side by side, together against Helya, the ruler of the Maw."
Kael'thas smiled slightly, looking at Lanathel: "Congratulations, you have received the inheritance of an ancient warrior artifact."
"Me?"
Lanathel pointed at herself with a slender finger, incredulous, looking at the oversized shield and one-handed sword left behind where the Vrykul King had vanished.
She was both surprised and delighted, unable to believe it.
How could this be?
A one-handed sword capable of cutting through the epic amani empire bulwark like butter must be legendary.
A shield that could easily withstand the equally epic holy sword quel'delar and the magic arrows fired from the legendary bow Thori'dal without a scratch must also be legendary.
How many legendary items could there be in the entire Quel'Thalas kingdom's millennia-old elven treasury?
Any one of them was priceless, easily worth hundreds of thousands of gold coins, yet unobtainable—a divine artifact worthy of being a clan's heirloom, passed down through generations.
Such divine artifacts for me? And two of them?
"No, no, Your Highness, these are too precious!"
"I am merely a guard, how could I be worthy of such divine artifacts?"
"It was you who brought us here, it was you who defeated their previous holders, they rightfully belong to you!"
Lanathel quickly waved her hands.
"Lanathel, we are now a squad sharing life and death."
"Without you fighting alongside us, I couldn't have killed a legendary Vrykul King."
Kael'thas smiled, "And you are not just my guard, but also General Salorian's most capable adjutant, and the future supreme commander of the Quel'Thalas defense forces. Besides," he pointed to himself, then to the others, "these two items together must weigh over a hundred kilograms, do you think anyone among us, besides you, could lift them?"
Sylvanas Windrunner's lips curved into a rare, teasing smile: "Weight would affect my agility and archery, impacting my performance."
Vereesa giggled, "I'm even less capable! Besides, what ranger charges into battle with a shield on her back? I'm not some reckless warrior!"
She playfully struck a bow-drawing pose.
Liadrin spread her hands: "Don't look at me, I'm just an ordinary priest. Besides, these two items are too Vrykul, with sharp angles; this 'big is strong' style doesn't match my aesthetic."
"See, it's not that we're trying to be generous, it's just that no one wants these things besides you. We can't just throw them into a storeroom to gather dust, can we?"
Kael'thas said with a smile, "Alright, Magni Bronzebeard's last words were directed at you. You are the warrior chosen by the Vrykul King, if you don't take them, who will?"
He wasn't a black-hearted leader; team dungeon runs were always about needs-based distribution.
Liadrin said, "Exactly, exactly! If you don't take them now, how will we get other divine artifacts later? Lanathel, you wouldn't want Vereesa and me to never get divine artifacts in our lives, would you?"
"Then, then I won't be polite. Thank you, Your Highness, thank you everyone!"
Lanathel was filled with gratitude; in truth, she truly desired them, but felt she wasn't worthy.
Since her teammates had all said so, further refusal would seem affected; obedience was better than politeness.
She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and firmly gripped the sword hilt and the shield's inner handle with both hands.
The two divine artifacts, originally taller than her, rapidly shrank to a size that fit her—
All divine artifacts contain powerful magical energy, and the ability to change size is standard.
In that instant, two forces from the same source surged into her body, heavy and immense—the power of the Earth-Warder, from Neltharion, Deathwing before his corruption.
Two extremely powerful wills enveloped her body and entered her mind, transforming into thousands of memory fragments that flashed like a movie.
She saw Neltharion, scarred from a brutal battle, return to his lair in Highmountain, writhing in pain,
a shattered scale falling from his body.
She saw Magni Bronzebeard steal this scale, split it in two, and forge it into a unique shield and one-handed sword,
using them to eliminate countless enemies and win battle after battle.
She saw that powerful Vrykul King lead his people to the continent of Northrend, driving the Nerubians, who attempted to invade Ulduar, back to the entrance of Azjol-Nerub.
Then he came to the Broken Isles, driving the High Elves out of Stormheim.
Finally, she witnessed that shameful betrayal.
She saw the invincible Magni Bronzebeard charge into an endless host of enemies, transforming into a whirlwind of death, furiously cutting down all foes before him.
Countless Kvaldir and Vrykul traitors fell beneath his sword, ultimately claiming his life.
Tears, without warning, burst forth and streamed down Lanathel's cheeks.
She felt the bone-deep fury, the unwillingness, and the bitter hatred for the betrayers, and even more, the tragic and desolate feeling of a legendary warrior's demise.
She also felt Magni Bronzebeard's earnest expectation for her:
Join us, brave warrior!
"I pledge!"
Her voice was exceptionally firm, carrying the clang of a warrior and the weight of an oath:
"With this sword and shield, I shall purge Helya's minions, end her reign of terror over Stormheim, and liberate the great Odyn and his glorious Halls of Valor from their imprisonment!"
A long, relieved sigh, as if spanning ancient time, gently echoed in the depths of her soul.
Magni Bronzebeard's last lingering will, like a flickering candle in the wind, finally extinguished completely.
But it did not dissipate; instead, it transformed into a pure and ancient stream of combat knowledge and inherited memories, slowly flowing into the depths of Lanathel's soul.
Lanathel trembled all over.
The sword and shield in her hands resonated with an even brighter and more harmonious hum.
Only at this moment did she truly gain the full recognition of these two divine artifacts, becoming their rightful new owner—the inheritor of the Earth-Warder's will and the Vrykul hero's soul.
At the same time, hundreds of miles away, in the deepest part of the howling, churning depths of Helheim.
The Goddess of Vengeance, Helya, seated on her throne of bones, suddenly opened her eyes, burning with spectral green fire. Her cold gaze pierced through the barriers of space, locking onto a specific location to the north.
"Magni Bronzebeard—"
A silent surge of desecrated, challenged fury spread.
"Your Highness."
After a brief period of shock and inherited integration, Lanathel recovered, a hint of unease creeping into her heart. She lowered her head, her voice tinged with hesitation:
"I—was I too impulsive? That's Helya—one of the most terrifying beings beneath the Titan Guardians, capable of even sealing Odyn…."
She worried that her oath would drag the entire High Elf kingdom into a catastrophe it might not be able to bear.
"Whether you pledge or not isn't important. From the moment you received the Vrykul warrior's legacy, you were destined to be Helya's enemy."
Kael'thas ruffled Lanathel's hair, smiling comfortingly: "Besides, being Helya's enemy means being Odyn's friend. As long as we unseal Odyn, we will gain a reliable, more powerful ally than Helya."
"Lanathel, you did the right thing!"
Lanathel finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Vereesa asked, "Your Highness, shall we return to Silvermoon City now?"
"No rush."
Kael'thas's gaze swept towards the dark passage deep within the tomb: "There are more than just two divine artifacts in the King's Tomb; there are also some in the other two crypts. Since we're here, of course, we'll take them all."
"More artifacts?"
Vereesa exclaimed, her voice filled with incredulous surprise.
The Windrunner family, with a legacy spanning ten thousand years, only possessed one artifact, which the King himself had commissioned, pooling the strength of the entire race to forge it.
Even prominent families like Theron and Mingyi didn't have a single one.
How could this seemingly insignificant Vrykul tomb contain so many?
"Are these artifacts mass-produced?" Vereesa grumbled.
"They really are mass-produced."
Kael'thas said, "Actually, so-called artifacts aren't as precious or rare as you imagine. Every scale, every tooth, every bone of the five Dragon Aspects can be crafted into an artifact. Once we take down Deathwing and dismember him, we could make at least a hundred or so artifacts."
Everyone's eyes lit up immediately, fantasizing about a beautiful future.
Isn't it just Deathwing? Let's get him!
"Your Highness, are the artifacts in the other two tombs also made from Deathwing's scales?" Vereesa asked.
"No, they were crafted by the Titan Guardians," Kael'thas replied.
"Titan Guardians?" The four women exchanged glances, their breathing quickening.
Those were beings even older and more powerful than the Dragon Aspects, the guardians of Azeroth personally created by the supreme Titans.
The artifacts they personally crafted must be even more powerful than the earth guardian's scale and Shattered Scale!
However, obtaining those artifacts wouldn't be easy; Magni's tomb was an example.
"Your Highness, which tomb shall we go to next?" Vereesa quickly inquired.
"This one, Volund's vault. There's an artifact suitable for you there."
The five of them arrived at the tomb opposite, where they saw no corpses or undead in the vast chamber, only various strange and unusual items:
Weapons, armor, devices of unknown purpose, and numerous robots.
"These are titan relics," Kael'thas stated.
"titan relics?" Vereesa asked curiously, "Why are there so many titan relics here?"
"Stolen."
Kael'thas explained, "In ancient times, the Vrykul Warlord Volund sought to dominate all Vrykul, but he lacked the ability. So, he began searching for powerful machinery and weapons crafted by the Titan Guardians. These were all stolen by him from various Titan structures."
Vereesa suddenly realized, "He wanted to be the king of all Vrykul? What ambition."
She looked around, "Your Highness, was the artifact you mentioned also stolen by him? Where is it?"
"It's cleverly hidden."
Kael'thas's gaze sharply swept over the mountain of mechanical wreckage, finally settling on a dust-covered, Gnome-like metal construct curled in a corner—a Mechagnome.
"That artifact was personally crafted by Mimiron, the King of Creation. These Mechagnomes are also Mimiron's creations."
"Back then, Volund captured and coerced these Mechagnomes, extracting the secret location of that artifact from them and stealing it."
Kael'thas slowly walked to the inert Mechagnome, crouched down, and skillfully fumbled among the complex mechanical structures on its back.
"Volund was a pure warrior, completely ignorant of Titan technology. The one who truly hid that artifact and set up layers of protection wasn't him, but the Mechagnomes."
He found a dim energy port and inserted the energy module that had fallen to the ground into it.
The previously inactive Mechagnome immediately awakened, emitting a cold, mechanical voice.
"XR9-47 remote relay monitor activated. System status: Damaged. Restarting. Please wait..." A powerful energy pulse erupted from the Mechagnome, transforming into a dozen thin blue rays that precisely struck a dozen scattered metal robots deep within the vault.
"Intruder detected!"
These robots, stolen by Volund, were originally part of the vault's defense system.
Upon detecting an intruder, they immediately launched an attack.
"Your Highness! Leave it to me!"
Lanathel, who had just acquired legendary equipment and was eager to test her skills, immediately volunteered, her voice filled with fighting spirit.
She tightly gripped the Shattered Scale and the earth guardian's scale in her hands, feeling the surging power within them.
Kael'thas nodded slightly, "Be careful."
Lanathel let out a low growl and charged forward like a tiger unleashed from its cage.
With artifacts in hand, her strength, speed, and defense had all undergone a qualitative leap.
Sword light flashed like a white ribbon, shield bashes were like landslides.
Those sturdy Titan constructs were easily torn apart, crushed, and destroyed under her attacks like rotten wood.
Sparks flew, metal fragments scattered, and piercing alarms and explosions echoed through the vault.
The battle ended faster than expected, with a dozen robots reduced to a pile of sparking scrap metal.
At the same time, the Mechagnome's restart sequence finally completed.
The blue light in its eyes stabilized, and it emitted a smoother whirring sound.
"System status: Mostly stable, core functions online."
"Detecting environmental changes... Recalibrating coordinates—Broken Isles, Vrykul Tomb, Volund's Storage Unit."
"Attempting to send commands to Creator's console via preset new route..." The Mechagnome issued a command and, with slightly stiff steps, walked to a Titan control console in the center of the vault, covered in complex runes and buttons.
Its metal fingers operated the control panel quickly and precisely.
A dazzling holographic projection beam shot out from the top of the console, intertwining and condensing in the air.
A round robot image, similar in proportion to an adult Elf, appeared before everyone.
Its expression was lively and exaggerated, full of vibrant curiosity.
"Woah! Something's here! Alive? Or—listen?"
"Such a strange fleshy life form! Full of... hmm... organic smell? Ah! It's a product of the flesh curse! Damn you, Ancient Gods, it's your doing again!"
Suddenly, its image flickered and distorted violently, and its voice became intermittent, filled with pain:
"Wait—wait! No—something—is drilling into my—my thoughts are chaotic—whispers—Ahhh! Yogg—Saron—!!!"
The image fluctuated wildly for a few seconds, as if fighting an invisible enemy.
Immediately after, it stabilized abruptly, and its voice returned to its previous "normal," even with a hint of deliberate ease:
"What's strange? Not strange, not strange! Fleshy life is also life, just like Freya's creations!"
"Hmm—it seems we don't have much time, friends?"
"However you came here, perfect! Come help test my latest invention—"
"Mimiron!"
Kael'thas interrupted, "Don't you want to see where this place actually is first? Is it your laboratory?"
"Where? Of course, it's—huh?"
Mimiron's projection rotated his massive head, electronic eyes scanning everywhere, data streams flashing rapidly above his head.
He let out confused electronic static: "What's going on? Spatial coordinates severely off—energy readings abnormal—this isn't Ulduar! It's not my laboratory! It's in—in the very distant—Broken Isles? A Vrykul—tomb?"
"Ah! Data loading—Volund's Vault! I understand!"
He suddenly looked at Kael'thas and the others, his projected face showing intense struggle and pain, his voice also deepening: "So, all these years I've been influenced by Yogg-Saron, in a daze, rarely clear-headed—"
"Yes, he first corrupted Loken, the Keeper of Wisdom."
Kael'thas calmly stated the cruel truth: "Then, through Loken's authority and internal errors in Ulduar, he gradually eroded the rest of you Guardians."
"One day in the future, I will go to Ulduar to destroy Yogg-Saron and help you break free from his control, but before that, we need your help."
Mimiron sneered, his voice full of mockery and helplessness: "You're here for the titanstrike, right? You, you want to deal with Yogg-Saron? You can't even get through the gates of Ulduar, you won't even pass the Flame Leviathan!"
He didn't genuinely want to mock these frail, tiny flesh-and-blood creatures in front of him; he, too, wanted someone to help him destroy Yogg-Saron, but it was simply impossible!
Ulduar is the largest and most complete Titan fortress in this world, a prison for Yogg-Saron that he and his siblings built together.
The Forge of Wills and machines created by the other Guardians are also here.
The Forge of Wills has another function: to use the life essence of Azeroth to give form and consciousness to creatures made of rock and metal—not only Giants, but also various other Titan constructs.
For example, Iron Vrykul, Iron Dwarves, Mechanical Gnomes; for example, Stone Giants, Storm Giants; for example, those constructs so powerful that mortals cannot imagine their extent:
Flame Leviathan, XT-002 Deconstructor. Any one of them possesses power comparable to a demigod, far beyond what mortals can contend with.
However, what is even more terrifying is not these, but him, controlled by Yogg-Saron, and his brothers and sisters.
Every Titan Guardian is an existence above the Dragon Aspects, possessing the ability to rampage through Aki Insect Race and Faceless One legions—even the weakest Faceless One can cut through mortal armies like chopping vegetables.
And after them, in the deepest part of Ulduar, there are Faceless One General Vezax, whose strength is no less than theirs, and Yogg-Saron.
Although Ulduar's Titan prison is still partially functioning, limiting Yogg-Saron's power as much as possible.
Although in the war during the Dark Empire era, all Ancient Gods were severely wounded, their power far less than one-tenth of what it once was.
However, Yogg-Saron's power still radiated throughout Ulduar.
As soon as one steps into Ulduar, one will hear Yogg-Saron's whispers, and if one's will is not firm enough, one's mind will be taken at the moment of entry!
"I admit you are strong, stronger than many Iron Vrykul, but it's still far from enough."
Mimiron's voice was full of despair: "The Titans of the Pantheon have not responded to our calls for a very, very long time. The shadow of the Ancient Gods is slowly but surely eroding the world-soul of Azeroth. The future of the entire universe is dark—"
"How will you know if you don't try?"
Kael'thas's voice was calm: "After the Dark Empire, Azeroth experienced the Troll Empire era and the Night Elf Empire era, creating brilliant civilizations one after another, eliminating many Faceless One and Aki Insect Race. Ulduar, in the end, is just a small fortress. As long as enough power is invested, it can be easily pushed through, and besides—"
He looked at Mimiron: "Not all Titan Guardians were corrupted by Yogg-Saron. Don't forget there's still Odyn and Highkeeper Ra,
And Tyr and Azadas!"
"Odyn? Ra? That's right, they're still there!"
Mimiron's huge projection trembled violently, and an unprecedented light burst from his electronic eyes: "They are the strongest Guardians,
Stronger than us, they will surely help us break free from Yogg-Saron's control, but, but—"
The light quickly dimmed, and his voice was once again swallowed by dejection: "I—I tried everything and couldn't contact them! Their signal—it's gone!"
"I can." Kael'thas's voice was decisive.
"You—what did you say?" Mimiron's projection froze.
"I know what happened to them, and I know where they are."
"I can find a way to contact them and join forces with them to advance into Ulduar, helping you break free from Yogg-Saron's control."
"I can help you destroy Yogg-Saron, destroy C'Thun, N'Zoth, and the remnants of Y'Shaarj, and eliminate all Void power in this world."
Kael'thas began to make promises: "But before that, we need to solve a small problem, and this requires the titanstrike."
"W-what problem?" Mimiron's voice carried urgency and a glimmer of rekindled hope.
"The Earth-Warder Neltharion."
Kael'thas said word by word: "He has been completely corrupted by the Ancient God N'Zoth, and fallen into the world-destroyer Deathwing!
He will tear the earth apart and unleash destructive flames upon the entire world. We must stop him!"
Mimiron exclaimed in surprise: "What, Neltharion has also been corrupted? This is not good—Alright, it seems you really want the titanstrike. Let me see—"
He retrieved data again and said: "Found it!"
Mimiron's projection extended a finger and pointed at a very hidden rune array on the Titan console, while a knob on the console rotated to a specific angle.
A complex Titan runic array suddenly lit up on the ground in the center of the vault, and intense energy light converged on the disc-shaped Titan device.
In the center of the array, space slightly twisted, and an ancient spear slowly emerged from the void.
"The titanstrike—is that the titanstrike?!"
Vereesa's breath hitched instantly, her heart pounding.
His Highness had said this Titan spear was for her!
The elven maiden saw nothing else, intense longing driving her, she instinctively reached out, about to grasp the divine spear suspended in the light pillar.
"Careful!"
Kael'thas grabbed Vereesa's arm and yanked her back.
Just as Vereesa's hand was about to touch the spear, a Vrykul warrior, whose presence was no less than Magni's, appeared.
He wielded a war-sword, leaped up, and brought it down fiercely on the spot where Vereesa had just been!
"Thieves, I'll adorn my treasury with your heads!"
The Vrykul Warlord, long dead and now only a spirit, brandished his war axe, unquenchable fury burning in the eye sockets of his helmet.
After millennia of slumber, his first attack upon awakening contained long-dormant power, splitting the air in a flash of lightning. Before the Elven girl could react, it descended upon her head.
At the brink of life and death, Vereesa, who had been pulled behind Kael'thas, tensed her nerves, her mental focus highly concentrated.
The most rigorous and systematic Ranger training of the Windrunner family made her instinctively swing her Windrunner Warbow, striking out at the war axe.
Who says Rangers only fight from a distance?
Who says a warbow can only shoot arrows?
Every Ranger is a qualified warrior, and every archer is a master of close combat.
But her warbow failed to connect with the Vrykul war axe, because right beside her, there was a true warrior.
Clang!
A crisp and resonant sound of metal clashing echoed through the vast treasury. The earth guardian's scale stood like a high wall in front of Vereesa, precisely blocking the Vrykul war axe.
A shadowy flame shot out from the center of the shield, spraying onto Volund's spirit form.
"Attacking our Ranger? Do you take me for granted?"
Lanathel's left arm held the shield, her upper body tilted forward at a 45-degree angle, her two strong, shapely legs placed one in front of the other. Her muscles were taut as she bore the immense force of the Vrykul legendary warrior's chop.
The stone slabs beneath her feet shattered under the immense power, cracks spreading out in a spiderweb pattern.
At the same time, two Holy Lights fell successively on Vereesa and Lanathel, transforming into Shields of Holy Light.
A brilliant blue magic arrow, though launched later, pierced through the Vrykul Warlord's eye socket!
"Don't you dare harm my sister!"
Sylvanas's pretty face was filled with killing intent, her brow furrowed. She drew her bow again, and the magic arrow, released from the string, pierced through the other eye socket.
Following closely, a scorching fireball, compressing violent fire elements within, roared like a miniature sun, smashing heavily into Volund's spirit form, which was distorted by pain.
The violent explosion sent his massive spirit body flying backward, a large, charred hole appearing in his chest, burned by both Holy Light and fire.
"Thieves?"
"You have the nerve to call us thieves?"
"Volund, think carefully about where all the titan relics in this treasury came from!"
Kael'thas sneered, another large fireball condensing in front of him—this time, it was a Pyroblast.
"Ah ah ah!"
"My soul! My eyes! My heart!"
The spiritual damage brought the most direct and intense pain. The Vrykul spirit, awakened from slumber, was largely destroyed by a series of smooth combos.
Facing a five-person team where everyone was at least legendary and equipped with legendary gear, even the most powerful legendary warrior was helpless, a strong sense of grievance welling up in his heart:
I'm just an ordinary Vrykul Warlord, not even a king. Do you really need such a luxurious team to deal with me? Huh?
What kind of skill is it to bully a small Warlord like me? If you're so capable, go find Magni next door!
"I..."
He had just opened his mouth when it was stuffed full with a Deathwing's scale—it was Lanathel's Scalebreaker!
Following closely were arrows from Sylvanas and Vereesa, Kael'thas's Pyroblast, and Liadrin's Holy Light.
From the start of the battle to its end, less than ten seconds passed, and Volund's soul was completely annihilated, dissipating into the air.
"Tsk, how miserable."
Thousands of miles away, Mimiron, who had "witnessed" the entire process through the optical lens of the XR9-47 monitor, shook his massive metal projection head, watching with great interest.
He felt no sympathy for Volund, the thief who had stolen his creations and coerced his subordinates.
Any thief should be punished, especially when what was stolen was an artifact he had specially crafted for his brother.
"Too weak, far inferior to that Vrykul King next door." Lanathel shook her slightly numb arm.
Even in a one-on-one duel, she was confident she could slay him with her newly acquired artifact.
"titanstrike!"
Vereesa quickly looked at the center of the magic circle, but dared not reach out, as it was filled with arcane and storm energy.
"titanstrike..." Mimiron's projected voice became deep and filled with reminiscence.
"The first gun in Azeroth's history, a pinnacle of technological and magical engineering. Its core is the Thunderfire relic I custom-made for Thorim!"
"Thorim and I forged it at the very top of the Temple of Storms. It absorbed eternal thunder and lightning, containing a portion of the Storm King's protective power!"
"It can control and focus the essence of the storm, condensing it into energy bullets!"
"Every time it fires, thunder will tear the sky, and its roar will echo throughout the world!"
The light in Mimiron's eyes dimmed: "It is the most perfect weapon I ever created, but its master has been controlled by Yogg-Saron, losing his sanity, and so have I..."
"Only temporarily, Mimiron. It won't be long before I contact the other Keepers and free you from Yogg-Saron's control." Kael'thas offered a blank check.
"I hope... so..."
Mimiron's projection began to flicker and distort violently, his voice becoming intermittent and filled with electronic static.
"Yogg-Saron's whispers—again. I—am—losing—control—again—I'm in Ulduar... waiting...."
Before he finished speaking, his projection violently flickered a few times, like a bad signal, then completely vanished into the air.
At the same time, the arcane and storm energy enveloping the titanstrike was completely absorbed by it, and it slowly floated in front of Vereesa.
"I have an artifact too!" The Elven girl was overjoyed.
She played with the artifact repeatedly, unable to put it down.
Although the traditional equipment for an Elven Ranger was a bow and arrow, if it was an artifact, then a firearm was not out of the question.
Perhaps because she was younger, or perhaps influenced by her elder sister Alleria, her acceptance of new things was much higher than that of the old conservatives in her country.
Who cares if it's a bow and arrow or a firearm, as long as it can deal damage, I'm fine with it!
"Second Sister, look, all three of us sisters have artifacts now!"
Vereesa excitedly turned to Sylvanas, smiling like a child who had finally gotten her beloved toy.
In front of her calm and strict second sister, she would always be the little sister who needed protection.
"All of this stems from His Highness's grace."
Sylvanas's gaze turned to Kael'thas, her eyes complex and unreadable.
In fact, she used to look down on Kael'thas, believing that he, like her eldest sister Alleria, was a "selfish person" who shirked responsibility and only pursued personal magical attainments.
In her view, as a Crown Prince or Ranger-General, bearing the mission of family and country was a matter of course.
She was willing to sacrifice her personal pursuits for her family, for the kingdom, and for the entire High Elf race. This sense of responsibility far outweighed personal dreams.
Even now, she still felt that if it came to a moment where a choice had to be made between national responsibility and personal pursuits, Kael'thas would likely choose the latter.
But she also had to admit that the current Kael'thas had fulfilled his responsibilities as the kingdom's heir, even better than any other prince in the world today.
"Your Highness, what is the artifact in the last tomb? Could it be—"
Sylvanas looked at Liadrin, a faint realization dawning on her.
"His Highness's choices have always had a reason!"
Back when they were patrolling the seas and tracking the Horde Fleet, His Highness brought Vereesa, Lanathel, and Liadrin.
He brought them along for every subsequent war as well.
Now, coming here for treasure, he also brought them.
Among the five-person team, His Highness and she already had artifacts before they came.
There were three major tombs in the Tomb of Kings. The artifacts from two of them went to Vereesa and Lanathel, so it was incredibly obvious who the artifact in the last tomb would go to.
His Highness wanted to create a legendary team where every member possessed an artifact!
Everyone's gaze focused on Kael'thas, filled with anticipation.
Especially Liadrin; in her beautiful amber eyes, the light of hope shone brighter than ever before, like the most dazzling star in the night sky.
"It's also a sword and shield combination."
"The shield is named 'defender of truth', and the sword is named 'oathbinder'."
Kael'thas met their gazes and said calmly, "They are the creations of King of Order Tyr, King of Earth Azadas, and the giantess Eonar, three great beings working together."
Vereesa exclaimed, "An artifact forged by three Titan Guardians working together?"
Isn't that a bit too extravagant?
"Strictly speaking, it's two Titan Guardians and one powerful Titan construct."
Kael'thas corrected her, simultaneously beginning to impart knowledge, "There are nine Titan Guardians on Azeroth: King of Earth Azadas, King of Wisdom Loken, King of Storms Thorim, King of Ice Hodir, King of Creation Mimiron, King of Life Freya, King of Order Tyr, Highkeeper Ra, and Prime Designate Odyn."
"As for the giantess Eonar, like the Goddess of Vengeance Helya, she was a powerful Titan life form created by the Titan Guardians using the Forge of Wills, possessing powerful authority and strength second only to the Guardians."
The Titan Guardians were active in ancient times, tens of thousands of years ago; some isolated themselves, some were sealed away, some went mad, and some died.
Their deeds have long been swallowed by the river of history, with only fragments of their stories surviving, turning into legends, and legends into myths.
In their transmission, they became distorted, and in their distortion, the truth was lost.
Now, apart from the Vrykul of Northrend and the Broken Isles, and a very small number of scholars who have deeply researched the Titans, no one knows the truth of those ancient times.
Kael'thas, as a transmigrator, was a rare exception.
"Two Titan Guardians, that's still very impressive! It seems those two artifacts are even stronger than titanstrike!"
Vereesa wasn't envious at all, only happy, happy for Liadrin.
Having fought alongside her for so long, she had long considered Liadrin her best sister, with a closeness second only to her two older sisters and His Royal Highness.
Kael'thas said, "While the power of an artifact cannot be simply measured by the number of participants involved, if we really have to compare, 'defender of truth' and 'oathbinder' are indeed slightly superior in tier to 'titanstrike' because they incorporate a part of the Titan Guardians."
Artifacts also come in different tiers.
The highest-tier artifacts, of course, are those used by the Titans themselves, such as the fel greatsword of Dark Titan Sargeras, which is currently embedded in Azeroth.
The next tier of artifacts are often personally forged by Titan-level beings and bestowed upon their proxies or spokespeople, such as the shaman artifact, Fists of Ra-den.
The tier below that consists of artifacts forged by Titan Guardian-level beings, such as titanstrike.
And the lowest tier of artifacts are those crafted by mortal master artisans, using top-tier materials or through fortunate coincidences, such as the Flame Strike in his hand.
Kael'thas's gaze was distant, as if he saw an ancient forging scene:
"To forge 'defender of truth', King of Earth Azadas swung his divine hammer."
"The first strike fell, and ice-covered mountains shattered, while rivers of lava erupted."
"The second strike fell, and the sky roared and wailed, lightning igniting the entire firmament."
"The third strike fell, a pure ray of sunlight pierced through the heavy thunderclouds, gently kissing the shield's surface, as if blessing it."
"King of Order Tyr, moreover, resolutely chipped off a small piece of his silver hand, which shone with the light of justice, and infused its essence of power into the shield."
"The giantess Eonar, meanwhile, carved a perfect disc from her diamond-hard rocky skin, engraved ancient Titan runes representing absolute protection upon it, and inlaid it into the shield's core."
"Such an artifact is inherently a part of a Titan Guardian, an extension of a Guardian, and what's more, it's a complementary sword and shield combination!"
"And their original owners were far stronger than Magni Bronzebeard or Volund!"
The five-person team passed through the deep corridors of the tomb and arrived before the last crypt.
Beside the heavy stone door stood a weathered, massive stone tablet, densely covered with ancient and unfamiliar Vrykul script.
This was ancient Vrykul script, long lost. All five of them were illiterate in this regard and couldn't understand it at all.
However, this didn't stump Kael'thas; he already knew the content.
"The person who inscribed these words was named Igrim."
"He was once the sharpest spearhead of the Wintermaul Vrykul clan, and one of, if not the most, powerful Vrykul warriors of that era."
"He once fought for the expansion of his clan, his hands stained with blood."
"But for some unknown reason, at some point, he had a sudden change of heart and resolutely chose to follow in the footsteps of King of Order Tyr, and because of his immense power and transformed beliefs, Tyr bestowed this pair of artifacts upon him."
"After Tyr bravely died protecting Azeroth, Igrim and his surviving comrades built a magnificent tomb for Tyr in Tirisfal Glades."
"After completing his mission, he led his followers to Stormheim and built a grand arena."
"He hoped that through a series of cruel yet fair trials, he could select a successor truly worthy of this pair of artifacts, capable of inheriting Tyr's will."
"However, as years passed, countless champions who answered the call entered the arena, but not a single one could pass the rigorous tests he set."
"Disheartened, Igrim built this final crypt for himself, and set up new, even more difficult trials within it."
"He swore an oath: only those who passed the ultimate test could obtain his weapons."
Kael'thas pointed to the tomb door, which was covered in mysterious runes and emitted powerful magical fluctuations: "And this door is the first test."
Liadrin quickly asked, "Your Highness, what kind of test is it exactly?"
"It's very simple."
Kael'thas said, "This door has been imbued with extremely powerful magical energy. Any living creature that stands in a specific area in front of the door will immediately trigger an indiscriminate magical attack. The trial-taker's task is to survive these attacks."
Liadrin's heart sank, and her face grew even paler as she looked at the bone-strewn ground.
Because she saw that the ground in front of this magical door was piled high with bones, clearly belonging to the trial-takers who had come here over millions of years.
Those who dared to come here to participate in the trial must have had sufficient confidence in themselves, and must have been the elite among the Vrykul, perhaps even including legendary-level beings.
Yet not a single one could pass this first test!
"Your Highness, I might not be able to pass the test—"
Before Liadrin could finish, Kael'thas interrupted, "What test are you talking about?"
"We are a treasure-hunting team, not here to participate in a champion selection!"
"Let's all go in together!"
"If it lets us in, fine. Otherwise, we'll break it open!"
"Understood!"
Lanathel didn't hesitate, raising the great earth guardian's scale shield high and striding towards the tomb door.
Three complex magical runes instantly lit up above the door.
Three thick, destructive energy beams shot out, fiercely striking the massive shield.
The earth guardian's scale contained Deathwing's protective power, which shared the same origin as the Titan Guardians' power, both coming from the supreme Titans of the order faction.
This level of energy impact couldn't shake it in the slightest, not even creating a ripple.
The reason the previous challengers, buried here, failed was precisely because they strictly adhered to Igrim's rules.
They were Vrykul, direct descendants of the Titan creations, warriors who grew up hearing the legends of Tyr and Igrim.
Igrim's trial rules were an inviolable oracle to them.
They would only lay down their weapons and use their strong flesh and blood bodies to withstand the energy beams that could melt gold and turn stone to ash.
Because that was the 'courage' and 'qualification' Igrim recognized; what kind of hero hides behind a shield?
Kael'thas was different.
His soul came from another world.
He respected Tyr's sacrifice and beliefs, but he would never slavishly adhere to Igrim's somewhat rigid rules, in his opinion.
He never intended to personally, or have his subordinates, undergo any troublesome trial; he was here to rob a tomb—bah, to seek treasure!
As long as he could obtain the defender of truth and the oathbinder, he could use any means!
The legendary energy beams continuously thickened, quickly becoming three pillars of light, engulfing Lanathel entirely, attempting to burn her body from all directions.
Liadrin immediately focused, her hands gathering pure Holy Light, quickly applying a solid Holy Light shield to Lanathel, who was at the front.
At the same time, she continuously used healing spells to soothe her skin, which was scorched by the high temperature.
After a full five minutes, the seemingly endless energy beams finally depleted their reserves and slowly extinguished.
The heavy tomb door let out a dull roar, and amidst the rising dust, it slowly opened inward.
Everyone stepped into the depths of the tomb.
There were no mountains of treasure here; it was empty.
On a stone throne at the very back, sat a tall, mighty figure, as if forged from steel.
He was clad in ancient Vrykul war armor, one hand tightly gripping the great defender of truth shield, which shone with the light of order, and the other holding the oathbinder longsword, inscribed with a vow of protection.
His eyes beneath his helmet, like two brilliant white gems, emitted a cold, scrutinizing light, sweeping over the intruders instantly.
Seeing everyone enter, he looked at them one by one, growing more and more surprised: "A team where everyone is at the legendary level and possesses legendary weapons?"
Such a team was rare even in ancient times!
"Such a rich fire element aura, such strong arcane energy fluctuations, what a magnificent fire mage divine sword!"
"What a divine bow, radiating the aura of the Well of Eternity; has it been immersed in the Well of Eternity's waters?"
"Isn't this the sword and shield Magni Bronzebeard forged from Neltharion's scales? How did they end up in your hands?"
"titanstrike, it's the titanstrike that Mimiron crafted for Torim!"
Igrim's face instantly darkened: "Torim would never give titanstrike to anyone! Tell me, how did you get it? Did you steal it from the Storm Temple?"
"No, we retrieved it from a thief!"
Vereesa had just learned of Igrim's heroic deeds and respected him greatly, but that didn't mean she would accept being slandered.
"It was Mimiron, the Lord of Order, who personally helped us find it!"
Vereesa briefly recounted what happened in Magni's tomb.
Igrim's expression immediately softened, even showing some shame, as his sword and shield clashed against his chest with a loud sound, and he bowed slightly:
"Young elf, I apologize for my misunderstanding. To be recognized by Mimiron, from now on, you are the rightful owner of titanstrike!"
"That's more like it, I accept, Tyr's most loyal champion." Vereesa beamed.
"I hope it can shine brightly in your hands."
Igrim looked at Lanathel: "And you, young warrior, you already possess such a powerful sword and shield, containing the great power of the earth guardian, a level no less than the divine artifact Tyr bestowed upon me. Why do you still come to accept my trial?"
With a clang, he raised his sword and pointed it at the female warrior: "Such an act, greedy and insatiable, violates Tyr's principles and makes you unworthy to possess his weapons!"
Lanathel stood tall, her chest out, and declared loudly: "No, you are mistaken again. It is not I who needs Tyr's weapons, but my companion!"
She stepped aside, revealing Liadrin behind her.
Liadrin stepped forward and said in a deep voice: "Respected Igrim, it is I who needs them!"
"I apologize for my recklessness and misunderstanding, but!"
Igrim's eyes blazed with anger: "Do you take me for blind? It was clearly she who passed the first trial and withstood the energy impact.
Only she has traces of being scorched by that energy!"
He pointed at Lanathel: "Not you! You didn't even have the courage to stand at the door. What right do you have?"
"Rules?"
Kael'thas stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with Liadrin, and questioned: "If I recall correctly, your rules didn't state that the entire trial process had to be participated in by the same person."
"Does that even need to be emphasized?"
Igrim's voice was like thunder: "It's common sense, all Vrykul know it!"
Kael'thas spread his hands: "Sorry, we're not Vrykul, we don't know. We only know that the Titans are the masters of order, Tyr is the King of Order, and the maintenance of order requires the enforcement of rules. Violating rules is destroying order!"
He pointed to the stone tablet outside: "Tyr's champion, will you personally break the rules you set, and destroy the order Tyr maintained throughout his life?"
"You!"
Igrim was stunned, caught in a dilemma.
If he broke the rules, it would be going against the King of Order. What right would he have to call himself 'Tyr's Champion,' and what right to continue holding Tyr's weapons?
If he upheld the rules, it would mean letting these despicable intruders exploit a loophole!
"Good, good, good!"
Igrim laughed in anger, shifting his gaze to Liadrin:
"You're quite something! Come, the second test is to fight me!
If you defeat me, this pair of sword and shield is yours! But think carefully, with your frail little body, you won't even be able to block one of my sword strikes!"
"But why should she block it?"
Kael'thas asked, puzzled: "The rules didn't say only one person could participate in this trial, did they? Couldn't we just go together?"
"What? A group fight?"
Igrim was utterly enraged: "What kind of skill is a group fight? What kind of hero? What you're doing isn't just exploiting a loophole in the rules, it's also a desecration of the name of a warrior. You don't deserve to wield Tyr's weapon!"
"Firstly," Kael'thas held up one finger, "you only said 'fight me,' not 'duel.'"
"Secondly," he held up a second finger, "these sword and shield are meant for killing enemies on the battlefield! The battlefield isn't a stage for lone heroes to perform; fighting side-by-side and protecting each other is the key to victory! Did Tyr fight alone back then? Did he not have Azadas, did he not have Aelonaya, did he not have you all by his side?"
"Finally," he looked around at his teammates, holding up a third finger, "don't think we're ganging up on you because we have more people. We are just five people, no matter how many helpers you bring, we are still five people. We are teammates, and we always fight side-by-side!"
Igrim was enraged again: "Where would I get so many helpers? There are only two of us here!"
You are too shameless!
"Igrim, I'm here to help you!"
A Vrykul female mage appeared silently, with dazzling blue light shining in her hands and eyes.
She was the Runesmith Grissaïda; the entire tomb was built by her for Igrim, and all the runes on the door were carved by her. She was Igrim's closest comrade, and she couldn't stand by in a moment of crisis.
"No!"
"They can exploit loopholes in the rules, but I cannot!"
"I said 'fight me,' so only I can enter the arena!"
"I set the rules, and I absolutely cannot break them myself!"
Igrim shouted.
"But, four of them have Legendary weapons, and their armor is all Epic-grade, and each of them has many magical items. "Weapons are external things; the self is the foundation!"
"What if they have many magical items? Don't forget our Vrykul proverb: The weaker one has more equipment!"
"The more magical items they have, the weaker their own strength!"
"And I, though I only have one set of armor, one sword, and one shield, I myself am a Tyr's Warrior, close to the demigod level!"
"Even if I'm the only one, even if I'm fighting against many, I can defeat them!"
"I want to let them know: while teamwork is important, individual strength and courage are also indispensable. My trial is meaningful and must not be slandered!"
Igrim roared as he charged towards the five-person team, his iron-tower-like body rushing forward. His first target was Liadrin, who had the weakest defense and foolishly coveted Tyr's weapon.
Lanathel, as the team's MT, immediately intercepted him.
The battle began!
Igrim's strength indeed far surpassed Magni Bronzebeard and Volund.
His swordsmanship and shield techniques had been honed to the peak of mortals through millennia of war, far surpassing even Lanathel, who had inherited all of Magni Bronzebeard's combat memories.
Moreover, he was originally Tyr's Warrior, the first wielder of Tyr's weapon, and their synergy was far beyond what Lanathel could achieve.
Both wielding a sword and shield, both wielding artifacts, his mastery was far above Lanathel's.
Furthermore, he was not Magni or Volund; he had not died, but had lived from ancient times to today.
His massive physique granted him several times more strength and attack speed than Lanathel.
His first move, a simple and direct charge, directly sent the intercepting Lanathel flying!
He was too strong, so strong that even the flesh curse could not erode him. He was still an iron body forged by the Titan Guardians with indestructible Titansteel, with a hardness far exceeding that of the discarded amani empire bulwark.
The Scalebreaker, forged from Deathwing's scales, only left a shallow white mark on him.
While this was partly due to Lanathel's insufficient strength leading to inadequate attack power, the terrifying defensive power of Tyr's Warrior still made the elven warrior's heart tremble.
Even more terrifying was his incredible resistance to magic.
Kael'thas's instant cast Great Fireball exploded directly on him, unable to leave even a trace.
Spells and weapons below legendary rank could not cause him any damage!
Every swing of his sword carried the power to split mountains and shatter stones, and every raise of his shield seemed capable of isolating heaven and earth.
His combat skills were even more superb, with seamless coordination between sword and shield, combining offense and defense.
His strength had definitely reached the high-tier Legendary level!
"This is the feeling, the feeling of fighting a BOSS!"
"Zul'jin couldn't provide it, Magni and Volund couldn't either!"
"The last time I had this feeling was when we besieged Hakkar the Blood God in the Hinterlands!"
"Igrim's strength is even greater than Hakkar's, who was merely an avatar back then!"
Kael'thas was momentarily lost in thought, as if he had returned to his previous life, to the time when he and a few friends were raiding.
Back then, he, who was always lazy, always followed orders and acted as a slacking mage who provided food, drink, and portals.
But now, he had to step up!
"Lanathel, don't let him cross your defensive line!"
"Liadrin, retreat, fall back more than thirty meters!"
"Sylvanas, Vereesa, spread out on the flanks, don't give him a chance for area attacks!"
Lanathel, like the most solid reef, held up her shield to withstand Igrim's mighty cleaves. The power of the Earth Guardian and Titansteel clashed, producing deafening roars and dazzling sparks.
Sylvanas's and Vereesa's arrows were like deadly hornets, cunningly shooting from various angles at Igrim's joints and helmet seams. The explosions of the magical arrows continuously interfered with his movements.
Liadrin's Holy Shield and healing spells were like the strongest support, ensuring the safety of her teammates.
Kael'thas, like a battlefield commander, precisely bombarded Igrim's weak points with powerful spells.
The five advanced and retreated in an orderly fashion, excelling in both offense and defense, trapping Igrim in the center.
Even with his astonishing strength and extraordinary combat skills, he was overwhelmed by the continuous, perfectly coordinated attacks of the five, unable to fight back, like a beast caught in a spiderweb.
"This is the power of teamwork!"
Kael'thas unleashed another Pyroblast, accurately hitting Igrim, who was stunned by Lanathel's charge, dealing damage while not forgetting to taunt.
"Hoo—."
Sparks flew, and flames surged.
Igrim gasped heavily, feeling intense pain all over his body. The high temperature brought a strong burning sensation; even the strongest iron body couldn't withstand it.
His entire skin was scorched red, and a sword mark even appeared on his back, from that legendary-level melee mage.
He gave Sylvanas and Vereesa a deep, wary look.
Legendary magical arrows, highly concentrated and refined, exceeded his magic resistance limit, causing him true damage. Moreover, each attack targeted his eyes, throat, joints, and other vital points, forcing him to divert his attention to defend.
Although Vereesa's archery was not as skilled as Sylvanas's, the thunder-fire energy bolts fired by titanstrike were more powerful!
He certainly knew he should attack the backline DPS first, but Lanathel's small body, holding up a large dragon scale shield, stubbornly blocked his every charge, firmly restricting him to half the field, making it impossible for him to break through.
And Liadrin, whom he had completely underestimated, also displayed extremely strong Holy Light affinity and combat prowess, repeatedly using her magic to protect her teammates from harm, just as he had once done.
"No!"
"Exploiting loopholes in the rules, she is not qualified to be compared with me!"
The rolling heat wave awakened him. Kael'thas was once again condensing a Pyroblast fireball in front of him, making him feel the threat of death.
"Then let's die in battle!" Igrim gritted his teeth.
It's just death, there's nothing to fear. Tyr's Warriors fear death the least!
Suddenly, a cold wind blew from behind, carrying the chill of ancient Northrend, transforming into a thick ice barrier that froze him within.
The head-sized Pyroblast fireball hit the ice barrier, yet failed to cause any damage.
Immediately after, dozens of ice pillars, like razors, pierced out from the ground, simultaneously attacking the five-person team.
At the critical moment, the Runesmith Grissaïda made her move!
"Ha!"
Lanathel swung her shield, the earth guardian's scale shattering an ice pillar.
Then she leaped up, sweeping past Igrim, her Scaled Longsword stabbing towards the Runecaster Grissaïda, who finally couldn't resist making a move.
Almost simultaneously, two Elven Rangers leaped to avoid the ice pillars, firing their arrows in mid-air.
The energy of the Sunwell and Skyfire Thunder turned into a magic sword and magic bullets, flying from left and right towards the second powerful enemy they had been constantly watching and guarding.
Those who could team up with a High-Tier Legend were, of course, also Legends.
Iron Vrykul were the most perfect creations of the Titan Guardians, servants responsible for ensuring the normal operation of Titan facilities in ancient times. Although they lacked agility and elegant spellcasting postures, they possessed an astonishing affinity for magic.
The strength of the Runecaster Grissaïda was no less than Igrim's!
The power of ice condensed around her, forming a legendary Ice Barrier that blocked damage of a similar legendary tier, but also exhausted its energy, making it fragile.
The ice was about to turn into an arrow rain, sweeping towards the five-person team, but was interfered with during the casting process and was counter-spelled.
The enemy's attack came again!
With a bang, the Ice Barrier exploded from within, and Igrim's massive body stood in front of Grissaïda.
Magic arrows and thunderfire bullets hit his raised shield almost simultaneously, but Kael'thas's figure had vanished from his sight.
A shockwave swept over them from behind, and a rolling heatwave was about to engulf Grissaïda.
Igrim's expression changed drastically, wanting to rescue her but it was already too late.
Just then, the shockwave disappeared.
The threat of death appeared and vanished so suddenly; his heart also went on a rollercoaster, and his intense fighting spirit dissipated with it.
Kael'thas flashed back to his teammates, smiling at the two: "Igrim, isn't it great to have companions? If you had fought side-by-side from the beginning, we might not have won."
Sylvanas's mouth twitched slightly, *Your Highness, are you sure?*
*You didn't even summon the Phoenix God; you could have handled Grissaïda yourself, right?*
"I—I lost!"
Igrim stood dejectedly, raising his sword and shield, looking at them deeply, then placing them on the ground: "Take them away, I—I'm not worthy to continue holding them!"
He had personally broken the rules he set.
Although he hadn't actively called for help, Grissaïda had, after all, made a move, and he couldn't deny that.
"Igrim, I'm sorry—" The Runecaster walked to his side, saying softly.
"It's not your fault. If you were in danger, I would have intervened too."
Igrim smiled bitterly: "After all—we are partners."
Partners fighting side-by-side.
Partners who have shared life and death, fate, time and time again.
A hand rested on his shoulder.
"You are Tir's most loyal and powerful warrior. If you are not worthy to hold them, then no one else in this world is."
Kael'thas said softly: "Tir's primary identity is a Titan Guardian, and his secondary identity is the King of Order. The purpose of rules is to maintain order, but the purpose of order is to protect. This is the most fundamental and important thing. Wasn't your mutual rescue just now protection?"
He paused, then said: "We are the same."
"Yes, we are the same."
Liadrin looked at Tir's warrior, her gaze firm: "Everything we do is for protection. The reason I came here is to find sufficiently powerful weapons to protect our race, protect our country, protect our people, protect all those close to us, protect His Majesty the King and His Royal Highness the Prince!"
She asked: "Igrim, when you first picked up your sword and shield, wasn't it to protect your people, to protect Tir, and to protect the world Tir wanted to protect? We are all the same!"
Igrim was silent for a moment, then said: "I have never denied that point, but you are too weak. You haven't even shown any of the qualities and abilities a warrior should have. Tir's weapons are not suitable for priests who hide behind to heal wounds and soothe spirits; they are only suitable for warriors who charge to the front!"
Kael'thas said: "You are right, Liadrin has indeed never received any close-quarters combat training, but that was in the past. She has now become a Paladin."
"A Paladin?"
"Yes, a Paladin, a class that combines a priest and a warrior, that is, a warrior who uses the power of the Holy Light. Isn't that very similar to you and your Tirisfal Guardians?"
"It is indeed very similar. A Paladin is indeed the most suitable class for Tir's weapons."
Igrim shook his head: "But she is not yet ready; she lacks the corresponding abilities—"
"Then help her get ready."
Kael'thas suggested: "Igrim, warrior of Tir, when you left Tirisfal Glades, you imparted all your knowledge to the Tirisfal Guardians. So now, are you willing to take another disciple?"
Igrim was stunned upon hearing this, looking at Liadrin: "Take her as a disciple?"
Kael'thas said: "Yes, take her as a disciple. She is a follower of the Holy Light, and she will also be the second wielder of Tir's weapons. You wouldn't want Tir's weapons to be disgraced in the hands of an unqualified wielder, would you?"
Igrim: "...You are threatening me!"
Kael'thas shook his head: "I am merely stating facts, and I don't think she is unqualified to be your disciple. I think you should be very clear that anyone who can receive the favor of the Holy Light and use its power must be recognized by Tir, because they are inherently the same!"
The High Elves' faith in the Holy Light came from humans, and human faith was originally related to Tir.
In ancient times, the King of Order Tir and the King of Earth Azadas, upon learning of the betrayal of the King of Wisdom Loken, stole the Norgannon Disc.
That item was an artifact jointly created by Loken and Mimiron, recording the history of Azeroth and Loken's betrayal.
A terrified Loken awakened the Faceless One generals under Yogg-Saron: Zakajz and Kihixes, ordering them to pursue.
To ensure the safety of the Norgannon Disc, Tir had Azadas take the disc and go first, while he personally covered their retreat, heavily wounding the two Faceless One generals at the cost of his life.
The place where he fell was called "Tir's Fall," which is now Tirisfal Glades.
After Tir's death, his soul essence and Holy Light energy always remained in Tirisfal Glades.
Mortals entering and bathing in it would naturally be influenced to be close to the Holy Light, and coupled with Tir's faith and legends, it also promoted the spread of Holy Light faith.
Of course, the source of Holy Light faith was not unique.
After the Troll Wars, many human priests were troubled by vague hallucinations and dreams, repeatedly seeing angelic beings within them.
They had geometric shapes and emanated vivid light, which were the Naaru.
The faith of humans and High Elves is inextricably linked to the Naaru.
However, the Naaru were never the sole representatives of the Holy Light, nor even the most powerful beings among them.
The Titan Aggramar, who empowered Tir, and the mysterious and much-debated Elune were.
As a priest serving the Holy Light, Liadrin was inherently a wielder and inheritor of Tir's power.
To some extent, she was inherently a follower of Tir!
"Respected Igrim, I beg you to accept me as your disciple!"
Liadrin knelt on one knee, saying in a deep voice: "I will use the sword and shield to inherit your will, to inherit Tir's will, and to continue protecting everything you and we wish to protect, I swear!"
"Please give me a chance!"
Igrim fell silent again.
A chance?
He thought of his past.
He was once a warrior born for slaughter, and Tirisfal gave him a chance, bestowing upon him weapons imbued with Holy Light, allowing him to fight for order and for protection.
So now, could this priest, who already possessed the power of Holy Light, not be given a chance?
"Alright, you've convinced me."
Igrim said, "If Tirisfal were still alive, perhaps he would have chosen you as his champion as well."
He held up the sword and shield, solemnly handing them to Liadrin: "They are yours. I hope you can guard the truth, uphold your vows, and protect Azeroth!"
"I will pass on all my knowledge to you."
"As for becoming a disciple, there's no need. We are all followers of Tirisfal, all brothers and sisters!"
Liadrin was overjoyed: "Thank you, Lord Igrim!"
She took the sword and shield, and a gentle Holy Light flowed from Tirisfal's weapons into her, merging with her own Holy Light.
The sword and shield seemed to come alive, emitting joyful hums, automatically shrinking in size to perfectly fit Liadrin's figure. She easily grasped the hilt of the sword and raised the great shield.
At this moment, the Holy Light aura emanating from her had reached the legendary level!
Igrim said, "Tirisfal's weapons have granted you legendary power. With a little training, you will be a legendary — Paladin. From now on, you will stay here, and I will give you the most rigorous training until you are ready."
Liadrin hesitated: "But, we still have to deal with Deathwing—"
"Deathwing? What is that?" Igrim had never heard that name before.
"Deathwing is the Earth-Warder Nefarian. This is the name he took after being corrupted by the Ancient Gods N'Zoth."
Kael'thas explained the whole story.
Igrim's face changed drastically: "Nefarian has also been corrupted? The power of the Ancient Gods is becoming more and more terrifying!"
Liadrin said in a deep voice, "Therefore, I must leave, rescue the Red Dragon Queen, and stop Deathwing's conspiracy!"
"Your choice is correct!"
Igrim said in a deep voice, "I will go with you! In addition, I will also summon the Tirisfal Guardians. Deathwing's power of protection was granted by the Titans at Lord Tirisfal's request. Now that he has fallen, as Tirisfal's champion, we cannot ignore it!"
Kael'thas was overjoyed: "That would be wonderful! Lord Igrim, with you joining us, our chances of victory have greatly increased!"
In truth, he didn't care about the strength of the Tirisfal Guardians.
But he cared about Igrim, and even more about the two divine artifacts in Thoradin's Tomb.
Tirisfal Glades was too vast, and he didn't know the exact location of Thoradin's Tomb, so he hadn't originally planned to search for it now.
However, plans change. Since Igrim was going to find the Tirisfal Guardians, he was happy to take the opportunity to retrieve those two divine artifacts and enhance their strength.
Kael'thas said, "However, I don't have a magic beacon near Thoradin's Tomb, so I can't teleport directly. Please tell me the exact location of Thoradin's Tomb. Once I arrive there, I will open a portal to bring you over."
Igrim nodded: "Very well."
The five teleported to Lordaeron, then rode Dragonhawks northwest for a full day, finally arriving at a valley surrounded by mountains.
It was extremely desolate here, with dark vegetation and not a single animal, as if it were a forbidden zone of life.
Liadrin frowned: "Your Highness, there are two completely opposite auras here. One is the power of Holy Light, and the other seems to be—"
"Shadow?"
She looked at the large lake in the center of the valley: "Both of these auras are emanating from over there!"
Kael'thas said, "That is the aura of the Faceless One General Zakajz."
The five flew to the lakeside. As soon as they landed, Kael'thas looked into the depths of the mountain forest and said, "Do the guardians of the Order King Tirisfal's tomb also hide? Come out."
As soon as his voice fell, four fully armed humans walked out.
The leader looked at Kael'thas, frowning: "Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider of Quel'Thalas? You know us? Wait—"
He looked at Liadrin, his gaze falling on the sword and shield: "Lord Igrim's weapons?"
His expression changed, and he drew his sword, pointing it at Liadrin: "Tell me, where did you get those? What have you done to Lord Igrim?"
He gave a wink, and the other three surrounded the group of five. One of them shot a signal arrow into the sky.
Liadrin quickly explained: "Lord Igrim gave them to me. We passed the trials he set—"
"Nonsense! Do you think I don't know Lord Igrim's trials?"
The leader interrupted sharply: "Our ancestors, more than one, went to participate in the trials, but they all failed, unable to even pass the first stage! Many of them were tall Vrykul, even more ancient Iron Vrykul. They were much stronger than you!"
Liadrin patiently explained: "Although the process involved some cleverness, we did indeed—"
"Let Igrim explain it himself."
Kael'thas opened a portal, and Igrim slowly walked out.
Seeing the massive figure he had never truly seen but had long been etched into his mind, the leader's eyes welled up with tears, and he quickly knelt on one knee: "Tirisfal Guardian Tavad, greetings, Lord!"
The other three also knelt down.
Just then, more than a dozen people rushed out of the mountain forest, all shouting: "Leader, we're here!"
"Leader, what happened? Did the orcs attack?"
"Leader, our strength is insufficient right now. I suggest we ask the Silver Hand Knights for help!"
"Yes, Leader, the Silver Hand Knights use Lord Tirisfal's silver hand as their symbol. They will definitely help us!"
"Leader—I—Lord Igrim?"
When they saw Igrim, they all froze, then immediately knelt down en masse.
"Rise."
Igrim surveyed the crowd: "You have been working hard guarding Thoradin's Tomb here."
"It's no hardship, no hardship at all!"
"We are Tirisfal Guardians. Guarding Thoradin's Tomb is our responsibility!"
Everyone spoke up.
Someone said: "Lord Igrim, you've finally returned. If you hadn't come back, we really wouldn't know what to do!"
Igrim frowned: "What happened—?"
He suddenly turned and looked at the large lake nearby: "Zakajz's aura! Why is it so strong? Could there be a problem with the seal?"
Tavad quickly said: "Yes, Lord, 2800 years ago—"
"Hmph."
Just as he was about to explain, a long, drawn-out sigh came from the lake.
Immediately after, a tall human ghost slowly floated up from the lake water, emanating a strong aura of shadow.
Igrim's gaze was solemn: "A legendary-level ghost. It has Zakajz's aura on it. It has been corrupted by Zakajz!"
Everyone tensed up, fully on guard.
Kael'thas's expression remained unchanged, as he had long known of this being's existence. He greeted proactively: "Kael'thas, son of Anasterian Sunstrider, greetings Lord Thoradin!"