Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 384, Section 74: Amidst the rain of petals, proudly return to the Elf Empire, Your Majesty!
The next morning, the oldest palace in Nasaras had been cleaned and prepared, awaiting the arrival of the distinguished guests to begin this meeting that was destined to be recorded in the annals of Elven history.

The meeting, which was supposed to be chaired by Governor Torsedrin, was changed to be hosted by Dean Bluemoon due to some "unexpected" events. All the important figures from the Sandara elves, Quel'dorei, and Kaldorei were present, and even the Rondorei sent General Staghelm as their representative.

They even went so far as to invite the trolls.

Princess Talanji, who was originally going to Northrend, stayed an extra day to attend this "Troll Conference." The dark trolls needed the noble Zandalari trolls to record their meetings.

This was a sacred duty of the Zandalari tribe, so it was perfectly normal for a troll princess like herself to attend the assembly of the dark trolls.

As the first rays of sunlight shone down on the ancient palace, the Black Raven King and the Sun King appeared almost simultaneously. They exchanged pleasantries and entered the palace together, only to find Kael'thas and Anduin Lothar yawning and talking in a corner.

The Sun King was very displeased with his son's indecent behavior.

Anastarian stepped forward, leaning on his scepter, and looked at Kael'thas's dark circles under his eyes, saying coldly:

"Didn't you get enough rest last night?"

"Yes, Father."

Kael'thas whispered:
"I spent the whole night playing 'Silvermoon City Siege' with 'Heart of the World,' and now all I can think about is her catchphrase, that mesmerizing 'How can we lose when dragons are charging in?'"

"Then you're better than me."

Lothar applied a hot towel to his eyes, trying to look more energetic. The marshal sighed and said:
"I fought the Battle of Elwynn Forest seventeen times, and even commanded the orcs and elves to roam the battlefields of Draenor and the War of the Ancients."

That feeling was quite interesting at first.

But my opponent was too bad; I lost my rhythm after winning for a while, so I let her win once, which gave me a chance to rest.

"Ah? Can this still happen?"

Kael'thas looked at Lothar in surprise and said:

“I kept winning until she broke down and kicked me out of the ‘war game’.”

"What are you two talking about?"

The Sun King asked in confusion:

Is this some kind of strange popular ritual?

"It is a trial of war for the 'Savior,' Your Majesty the Sun King."

Losa said seriously:

"Perhaps it's because the Star Soul Lord wanted to accumulate command experience through simulated warfare. In any case, that war game was quite realistic and didn't seem like something an ordinary person could create."

Currently, only Kael'thas and I have been summoned.

"Oh, your son is currently a 'prospective Savior,' Lady Aegwynn said, and once Kael'thas is freed from the threat of his magic addiction, he will receive his own Savior title."

"Yes, that's certainly good news."

The Sun King smiled.

He patted his son on the shoulder with satisfaction and said:

“You are indeed the pride of Quel'dorei, my son. I have heard of the Nightsworn, after all, she was a heroine of the War of the Ancients, and even your grandfather admired her achievements. But in this era, you are already the most outstanding one.”

"However, Father, the atmosphere at today's meeting seems rather strange."

Kael'thas carefully observed the people present.

He whispered:

"The atmosphere in Nasaras is strange. I've heard that some of the Highborne have left, and they stubbornly believe that the murder of Governor Torsedrin was a conspiracy by us, in alliance with the Kaldorei, to seize power."

There must have been demons fanning the flames in this.

"Not just a demon, child."

The Sun King showed a hint of disgust and said:
"And there's also Elisande of Suramar pulling the strings behind the scenes. She somehow got wind of Governor Tosedrin's death, and after being suppressed for so many years, she finally found an opportunity to retaliate."

When I arrived here last night, I spoke with Mordant Yongying, a political advisor under Governor Tosedlin.

The latter told me that the Nightborne had begun a full-scale counterattack.

Elisande plans to take advantage of the chaos during the change of rulers in Nasaras to reclaim Suramar and extend his influence into the Azsuna region.

This is also the main point we will be discussing with King Black Crow today.

Not only must we uphold Governor Torsedrin's will and support Mordant Evershadow as the new governor of the Sindra elves, but we must also promote his formation, along with Elia Bluemoon and Lady Sandara, into the Highborne's "political council," thereby enabling the Highborne elves to achieve unification in this era.

Anastarian paused, then spoke to his son and the attentively listening Marshal Lothar:

"This is the first step. The next step is to get the three races of elves to try to restore diplomatic relations and build unity. I have spoken with the Black Raven King, and he plans to take two hundred years to accomplish this."

"You elves are too outrageous."

Losa sighed:
"We humans cannot imagine what chaos would ensue if we spent two hundred years trying to forge unity. Even in my most negligent plan, our restoration of the northern frontier and the unification of the empire could not exceed ten years."

"Heh, you're in for a rough time, Marshal Losa."

The Sun King said meaningfully:
"You probably haven't received the specific report from the northern frontier yet, have you?"

You probably don't know the 'big things' the Kingdom of Lordaeron has been doing in the North Frontier. Restoring the Empire is much more difficult than you imagine, especially after King Terenas has also raised the banner of 'rebuilding the Empire'.

Of course, what he wants to establish is the 'Lordaeron Dragonborn Empire'!
Just three days ago, King Terenas's envoy arrived in Quel'Thalas and formally requested my courtiers to take back the refugees.

Do you know what this means? "

The Sun King smiled, and as he turned to leave, he whispered:
"You'd better speed things up, Losar, or you'll miss out on the great cause of restoring the northern frontier."

Just as Marshal Lothar received the bad news, on the third floor of the ancient palace in Nasaras, Dean Blue Moon had just changed into her ceremonial attire when one of her teaching assistants walked in with a grim expression and whispered a message to the dean.

Dean Lan Yue, who had been in a bad mood these past few days, flew into a rage upon hearing this:
"What do you mean Elisande is demanding that all 'Suramar' students drop out and go home? Where does she get so many positions to assign my students?"

This is clearly an attempt to sever the legacy of the Nassaras Magic Academy!
How dare she, Elisande, use the name 'Mennal Academy'? Even an outstanding graduate like Sandara wouldn't dare call herself a successor of Mennal Academy; she's just a lowly, non-distinguished graduate.
Ah!
Is this guy going to go all-in and attack head-on now?

At a time when all the elves are preparing to forge unity, is she going to step forward and act as the divider?

“Uh, Dean.”

The teaching assistant hesitated for a moment, then whispered:
"But theoretically, Queen Azshara is in Suramar, and Elisande, in the Queen's name, has declared us traitors, which we cannot even refute."

The main problem is that the people won't stand with us.

"That's a forged imperial edict! That's a chaotic order!"

Dean Blue Moon scolded:
"The Queen has been asleep for ten thousand years. How could she possibly issue orders? If Elisande has the ability to make Azshara stand up and walk around the walls of Suramar, then I'll believe her nonsense."

Close the academy immediately!

I'll have one-on-one conversations with the students who are struggling. After this meeting, I'll go back and decide on a follow-up plan based on the situation. However, we really should try to bring about some changes for the students.

The dean stood by the window, looking at the city of Nasaras bathed in sunlight.

She recalled the excitement and joy of her dear students on the battlefield during the Battle of Mount Hyjal, like a flock of little lambs who had been trapped for ten thousand years and finally had the chance to go out for a stroll, so they let loose and had fun.

The students' genuine yearning for freedom made them unafraid even of war.

Although there were indeed casualties, overall, the students of Nasaras Academy performed exceptionally well in this Battle of Mount Hyjal, earning high praise from the Black Raven King.

Therefore, after a brief moment of thought, the dean raised his hand and said to his assistant:
"Draft a plan to tell the students that there will be a surprise assessment next month, and students who score 90 or above will have the opportunity to go on a study tour."

Currently, Quel'Thalas and El Rethras are temporarily open for their study abroad programs, depending on the time commitment.
Ten years is tentatively set!
Consider it a small break from their endless pursuit of education.

"Dean, the students will be ecstatic."

The assistant grinned, then rolled his eyes and thought for a moment before suggesting to the dean:
"Marshal Lothar, that human, is also here. I've heard that the scenery of the human world is completely different from that of the elves, so why not include the Stormwind Kingdom in our study tour as well?"

I've also heard that the human magic city of Dalaran has fallen near Stormwind due to some accident, and your student Antonidas is there.

He always took good care of his seniors. There's also Karazhan, the mage tower of outstanding graduates Aegwynn and Medivh, which is a great place to visit for study abroad.

"Okay! Let's include Stormwind Kingdom as well, and it would be best if it could become a new tradition."

Aylia Blue Moon recalled her confrontation with Dean Sachir of the Mystic Academy that day, and she sighed:
"We really should strengthen our connections with the outside world, let's start with this study tour."

------

A howling wind swept across the gloomy sky, and the perpetual snow fell sadly on the glaciers in the northernmost part of Northrend.

The Lich King was in a very good mood.

Tichondrius's exile finally freed him from the interference of others, allowing him to act freely and make his own way.

Today I'm especially happy because the "treasure" I ordered has arrived, just like a glue enthusiast finally getting his long-awaited wife glue delivered to his door.

The three Salainins traveled day and night, and finally, on the seventh day after the Battle of Mount Hyjal ended, delivered Governor Thothedrin's body to the Lich King.

The magnificent black coffin was opened, revealing the lifelike Tosedrin lying within. To prevent his soul from escaping or being captured by the world of the dead, a fine soulstone was inserted into the heart of this elven governor. Combined with his magnificent white robes, he appeared to be asleep rather than dead.

The Highborne's demeanor was beyond question, and the fact that he was a magical prince made Thosedrin worthy of the description "handsome and dashing".

One by one, the psychic runes around the ice fixed to the Icecrown Throne lit up, and amidst the Lich King Gul'dan's sinister laughter, the demonic sword Frostmourne, supported by immense spiritual power, slowly floated in front of the elven governor.

The villainous souls that it had taken from the Soul Steel Cage of the Devourer also let out cackling laughter. These guys were roughly stuffed into the bodies of various undead. Their evil nature didn't care what form they were reborn in. As long as they could continue to cause suffering in the mortal world, that was enough to soothe their madness.

"Frostmourne will have its own swordsman."

The Lich King let out a deep howl:

"The artifact of death will begin to reap the world's weak, and every individual pierced by the demonic sword will become our slave, while the strong of the Scourge will eventually raise that fluttering black flag."

Awaken, Tosedrin!

Awaken, Lord of Death.

"boom"

The chilling demonic sword pierced forward, its icy blade breaking through the soul stone embedded in the elven governor's heart. The cold, azure psychic power that surged into the corpse in that instant caused it to convulse. It was a strengthening and call from the Force that caused Tosedrin's eyes to suddenly open.

The landscape of another realm was reflected in the eyes of the dead, turning the cruelty and ruthlessness of the Maw into an echo that struck his soul, forcing him to accept the blessing of this power.

Gul'dan watched the interaction between the demonic sword and its wielder, and his heart was filled with jealousy.

Yes!

If I still had a body to move, if I could still leave this damned throne, I would never have so casually bestowed such a powerful artifact as Frostmourne upon an arrogant mortal.

How could my greedy self allow such a sacred object to leave my hands?
Unfortunately, Frostmourne's unique nature dictates that this cursed sword must have a wielder to unleash its full destructive power.

It and the Helm of Domination are two sides of the same coin, a divine artifact.

The Demon Sword is used to execute other powerful beings of the Force, binding them to death, while the Helm of Domination can command legions composed of the dead.

Only when the two are combined can the high-level combat power of the Scourge snowball. Otherwise, no matter how hard Gul'dan tries, he can only create those mediocre undead. The absurd world of Azeroth is not lacking in geniuses. Which of those famous strongmen is not a person with a firm will?
The allure of the Helm of Domination alone is not enough to make them embrace death.

"But Tosedrin Elesaras is only a temporary swordsman."

Gul'dan said in his cold mind:
"I have my own plans regarding the 'master' of the Scourge."

"Oh, really? Tell me about it."

A familiar voice suddenly connected with Gul'dan's cold mind at this moment, startling Gul'dan who was deeply immersed in the "evil role-playing" game.

It immediately recognized the voice and instantly switched to a fawning tone, whispering:
"Of course, great Sculptor, I have been eagerly awaiting your arrival. I have prepared a summary of my work over this period and am just waiting to report to you."

"Tell me your plan first, Gul'dan."

Sachir is obviously not here.

It must have left some unique "little switch" in Gul'dan's new form, which allowed it to suddenly appear here and give this increasingly unruly warlock a good scare.

Gul'dan knew why Saqir had come, but he wisely refrained from bringing up the topic himself. Instead, he answered Saqir's question by saying:
"The reason I, in my humble state, chose Torseidrin Eletharas to be the first swordsman of Frostmourne is because I value his status as a noble forger."

This is a leader with extremely high prestige among the Highborne!

If a suitable opportunity is found to bring him back to the Broken Isles, he will surely be able to unleash a massive Scourge invasion in Azsuna!
The most ingenious thing is that, while the elves are forging unity, there is an outlier, Elisande, who has no intention of playing with them, and the isolated and helpless Suramar happens to possess a great treasure.

I fully understand that the elves' addiction to magic can only be cured by the legendary Tree of Arcandor, which means that the elves will launch an attack on Suramar sooner or later!

And that is our opportunity, esteemed Master Sachir.

Think about it, who is sleeping in the Dark Well of Suramar?
Heh, Queen Azshara of the elves has been asleep for ten thousand years. She is dead, but the elves are unwilling to admit it. But as long as we deliver Frostmourne into Azshara's hands...
Your Majesty, do you not wish to see Azeroth's own daughter become the master of the Death Force?
When Azshara raises Frostmourne, who in this world can withstand the onslaught of death?

Gul'dan finished explaining his plan.

Two seconds later, it heard Sachiel's hearty laughter:

"Hahaha, Gul'dan! As expected of you, I came here with the intention of destroying you. After all, your betrayal of Tichondrius crossed my bottom line. Nobody likes to do big things with a self-righteous subordinate."

But your ambitious plan impressed me; you're truly a master of mischief!

The sculptor said with satisfaction:
"Let's proceed according to your plan, Gul'dan."

My disgust for you has now turned into admiration. If you can do this extraordinary thing, I will get you out of your current predicament and send you to Revendres to help you secure a high position in the court of Emperor Denathrius.

I find the petty squabbles in the Reaper's Court to be tiresome.

The tricks of the Reapers, who represent the will of Revendreth, are too low-class. They need some 'evil shock' from a troublemaker like you.

The Emperor will surely treat you well, Gul'dan.

You might become a favorite of the Eternals, and then it will be my turn to curry favor with you.

Work hard.

Sachir said softly:

"I have been ordered to take charge of the invasion and destruction of Azeroth, and you are my vanguard. I never mistreat those who have rendered meritorious service, provided that you can truly deliver on your promises. Can you?"

“Of course I can! Master Sachiel, please wait a moment.”

Gul'dan said confidently:
"Just give me some freedom of action."

"You've already killed Tichondrius, isn't your power enough?"

Sachil gently reminded him:
"It's best if this kind of 'healthy competition' doesn't happen. I mean, be smart and don't let this bad news ruin my mood."

Understand? "

"Understood! I respectfully see you off."

Gul'dan lowered his head and saw Saqir's whispered words disappear.

Although it no longer has any organs to sweat, it still couldn't help but feel a wave of fear at this moment.

However, Gul'dan's mood improved when he saw Thothedrin, wielding Frostmourne, rise from his coffin and stride angrily toward him amidst the falling snow.

"bass"

A pulsating sword cry accompanied by a wisp of ice flying as the chilling demonic sword, enveloped in a ghostly blue psychic power, pressed against the Lich King's icy defenses.

Torsedrin's eyes, burning with a ghostly blue light, were fixed on the invisible spirit within the ice. As they faced off, Gul'dan whispered:

"Your first task is to deal with Azjol Nerub's still-resisting spider demons. I need that underground throne as my flesh-stitching ground and necropolis. Any problems?"

As two long, gray hairs fluttered at Tosedrin's temples, he finally sheathed his demon sword, his fingers tracing the cold blade, and said in a hoarse voice:
"No problem, please wait a moment."

(End of this chapter)