The tragic Red Dragon Queen could only wait for the next being qualified to wield the Demon Soul to appear and pass judgment on her fate.
Silence.
Deathly silence.
The Queen's chest heaved with rapid breaths.
"Did I truly harbor too much hope?" she thought. "Perhaps I shouldn't have expected so much from Duke. Who will be next? No matter who it is, as long as they can truly free me, I swear I'll treat them kindly. I'll abandon the haughtiness of dragonkind and be... good."
Alexstrasza's mind was in turmoil. The feeling of having her fate in the hands of others, wavering between hope and despair, heaven and hell, was unbearable.
But she had no choice but to wait.
She never expected her savior to be Marian Firewing, a High Elf Archmage.
Marian entered with a graceful and composed demeanor, as if she were strolling through her backyard garden.
"I am Alexstrasza, the Red Dragon Queen! Quick! Release me from these bonds, save me!" Like a drowning victim unable to swim, Alexstrasza instinctively sought help from Marian, recognizing the emblems of the Alliance and the Silvermoon Council.
For centuries, the relationship between the Red Dragonflight and the Silvermoon Council had been amicable.
But then Marian laughed—a haughty laugh, bordering on madness. Her smiling face filled with arrogance sent a chill down Alexstrasza's spine.
"Save you? Who said I was here to save you?" Marian's cruel, rhetorical question plunged the Queen's heart into an abyss.
Thirty-six layers of hell. How fearful must that be?
The voluptuous body of the Red Dragon Queen trembled like a sifter, an enticing sight for many males but a sin in the eyes of her own gender.
In Marian's eyes, there was a clear... jealousy.
"Dragons are blessed, aren't they? Truly eternal life... forever beautiful... forever young... Wasn't it you who bestowed immortality upon my Night Elf brethren? O Giver of Life, Your Majesty," Marian murmured, her words sending a deeper chill down the Queen's spine.
"Who are you? Who do you serve?"
"Heh, indeed it's the Demon Soul." Marian picked up the platinum disc from the ground where Duke had fallen. "Remember the name of your new master, Mother Dragon! I am Marian Firewing! Hahaha!"
Alexstrasza's face turned beet red with anger. But before she could grieve, she felt the soul-torturing power of the Demon Soul.
"Ah—ah—ah—" The agony was unbearable, like having her heart pricked by countless needles, impossible to grow accustomed to. "You... you're a Warlock? You serve Deathwing!?"
Not just anyone could use the Demon Soul; only a Warlock's power could manipulate this terrifying artifact. Within a second, Marian felt the clear loss of her life force.
With a wave of her hand, an ice-made 'mirror' appeared beside her. Marian saw the wrinkles forming on her face.
Her anger quickly faded, replaced by laughter. "That Orcish Warlock was indeed a fool, using his own life force. If he knew you created the World Tree... Hahaha!"
The Queen's face turned pale. High Elves were not as easily deceived as the Orcish outsiders. However, her queenly stubbornness caused her to instinctively resist Marian's control.
Alexstrasza gritted her teeth. "You think you can master me? Ha! Do you think Deathwing will let you go?"
"Deathwing? Hahaha! He may have disguised himself well, but he has forgotten one thing. The Dragon Soul was designed with the five Guardian Dragons in mind." Marian chanted a spell, and the platinum disc transformed, dividing into five regions, four of which shone with brilliant light.
The Queen immediately realized what Marian intended.
"Wahaha! Yes! Once I place a scale containing Deathwing's soul and power into the Demon Soul, even the renowned Deathwing will become my slave! Then, all five-colored dragons will crawl at my feet. I will no longer be just a Silvermoon councilor; I will be the queen of the entire world of Azeroth! Hahaha!"
Marian laughed wildly, her laughter so mad, so unrestrained, that it drained all color from Alexstrasza's face.
It was all clear now: her capture, the control of the Red Dragonflight, most of it was Deathwing's scheme. But Marian, Deathwing's backup, trusted even more by him to control the other four Guardian Dragons, had chosen to betray him.
At that moment, Marian was suddenly attacked.
"Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!" Four emerald arrows appeared out of nowhere, stopping just a hand's breadth from Marian. A mysterious force halted them mid-flight.
Only then did an oval-shaped magical shield, surrounding Marian, become visible.
"Oh?" Marian turned slowly, looking at the female Ranger with a drawn bow. "You? Vereesa Windrunner."
It was Vereesa who, sensing something amiss, had left the front lines to Gavinrad and others and rushed here in a frenzy.
"I ask you! Where— is— Duke?" The usually beautiful and calm Windrunner was filled with uncontrollable anger and excitement, her arms visibly shaking.
Marian smiled wickedly. "He's dead. Killed by Deathwing." She pointed at the flame-blackened Grand Marshal's Battle Staff on the ground.
Vereesa had seen the charred staff when she entered, but the sudden news and the sight of Alexstrasza's despondent expression made her head spin.
"No—"