The disparity in power between the two sides was glaringly evident. This wasn't a battle; if one had to label this confrontation, it would be 'playtime'.
Moreover, the inherent nature of the Guardian Dragons played a role—none of the three dragons were specialized in close combat. Even Nozdormu leaned more towards tricks and special abilities.
The result? Three guardian dragons, once equals millennia ago, now seemed like rabbits being chased by Deathwing. They fluttered about in disarray.
Any observer would feel a pang of sorrow at such a scene.
Even Deathwing, part of the conflict, couldn't bear it, voicing his disdain: "Pitiful, truly pitiful creatures. Is this the full extent of your might? Can your strength not even tickle me? Are these the desperate attacks you've mustered? Laughable—utterly laughable!"
There was no genuine fury, no reckless charge to their deaths. The three Guardian Dragons seemed to be holding back, engaging in a cautious skirmish with Deathwing.
This made Deathwing uneasy.
"Ha! What are you waiting for? A moment of weakness? Some miraculous intervention? Or perhaps for Alexstrasza to break free and join the fray? Hahaha! What a joke! To me, what difference does one more ant make?"
"Ant? We'll see about that!" Ysera, the Dreamer, slyly opened her eyes just a sliver. Mesmerizing light seeped out, shrouding her in mystery. "I was ready to persuade Nozdormu and Malygos to join me in a last stand against you. But a certain intriguing human offered us a better choice."
"A human? Wait! You mean Duke?" Deathwing sounded slightly alarmed.
Indeed, only through the dreams of humans could one bypass his surveillance and contact Ysera directly.
"That's right!"
At this moment, the cunning Black Dragon King smirked in derision. "Fool! I never truly trusted that sly rogue! He doesn't understand my objectives. He can't control the Demon Soul, nor does he know the spell to control Alexstrasza."
Neltharion, also known as Deathwing, laid out his arguments, sounding utterly confident.
It was Malygos, the Spellweaver, who first retorted, "That lad doesn't need those things."
Nozdormu, the Timeless, chuckled coldly, "For someone who shouldn't exist in the timeline, he possesses the ability to navigate the labyrinth of deceit, going straight from start to finish. Neltharion, have you forgotten? You gave that lad a scale of yours. And the Demon Soul cannot resist your power!"
"Impossible! How do you know?"
"Hehe! We just do," Nozdormu's words, like a curse of doom, clutched at Neltharion's heart. He suddenly realized that he could only rely on the elf maiden he had corrupted.
Alas, he was destined for disappointment.
Almost immediately after Nozdormu's damning declaration, a vibrant, multicolored glow rose from beneath Grim Batol.
"Roar! Roar! Roar!" Three roars, almost simultaneous.
The three Guardian Dragons appeared to inflate, their sizes tripling, becoming nearly as large as Neltharion. This wasn't mere shape-shifting. It was an elevation in power—both qualitative and quantitative.
Not one, but all three dragons underwent this transformation.
"Impossible—"
Neltharion, the Black Dragon King, felt a sudden chill. This magnitude of power, both foreign and familiar.
It's been ten thousand years!
A full ten millennia!
Since the War of the Ancients ten thousand years ago, when he tricked the four Guardian Dragons into pouring their souls and power into the Dragon Soul, he hadn't regarded his siblings as equals. Now, sensing the transformation in the dragons before him, even if Neltharion didn't want to admit it, he had to: his supposedly flawless plan had a fatal flaw—Duke!
"Hey! Ysera! Nozdormu! Do you feel it? Do you?" Malygos, almost hysterical, repeatedly asked his siblings. "I've regained my power! Every magical element bows before me! Ah, it's perfect!"
"It's time," Nozdormu replied, his gem-like eyes blazing, proclaiming like an oracle, "Indeed, destiny has shifted. I see your demise, Neltharion, coming much sooner. It's time!"
Ysera opened her captivating eyes, so mesmerizing that Deathwing had to strain to avoid her bewitching gaze.
"The nightmare of ten thousand years ends now," she murmured. "Our dream, for millennia, of restoring dragonkind's glory is about to become reality."
Just then, a clear dragon roar echoed from beneath Grim Batol. In mere seconds, a massive red dragon silhouette swiftly grew in the vision of the four mighty dragons.
The Life-Binder, Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza, had arrived.
In this moment, if Neltharion were still in his human form, his face would likely be blacker than coal. But being a grotesque black dragon, he couldn't turn any darker.
"Sister, are you alright?"
Alexstrasza nodded her massive head, "Compared to the torment I endured, I've gained much more. What we lost ten thousand years ago has been returned. The Demon Soul... that accursed Demon Soul no longer exists! The puny human you so underestimated—Duke Marcus—destroyed it!"
The Red Dragon Queen's declaration resonated with the other three dragons, eliciting a triumphant growl from each.
"Impossible!" Deathwing roared. "Lies! All lies! How could someone as astute as I be fooled by a mere human? Impossible—you must be deceiving me!"
Alexstrasza unfurled her massive wings, revealing her sharp claws. Although she had suffered greatly during her imprisonment, she now showed no sign of weakness.
"No!" Alexstrasza corrected, "The only lie that needs rectifying is your so-called invincibility. Now, feel for yourself if we have truly regained our power!"
"Indeed," Nozdormu sneered. "I've always wanted to debunk that absurd theory..."