Chapter 11: Reinforcements

For Arthas, Onyxia had always been ranked among the top tier of dangerous entities. This was not because of her overwhelming personal might, but rather due to the intricate web of influence she wielded and her deep-rooted ties among human nobility.

It was not so much Onyxia herself who was dangerous, but rather the forces she represented.

Even though the Black Dragonflight had largely fallen, becoming synonymous with madness and malice, that did not mean they would not aid one another. To attack a black dragon was to trample upon the dignity and wrath of Deathwing himself. Those maddened beasts would stop at nothing to annihilate anyone daring to oppose the Black Dragonflight, utterly destroying such foolish and overconfident mortals.

Yet Arthas was no ordinary, reckless fool. His power allowed him to stand his ground against adult dragons without the slightest trace of intimidation. Even when facing the black dragon prince, Nefalian, Arthas was confident that he could hold his own in a single combat armed with Frostmourne.

Onyxia was significantly weaker than her brother. The only reasons Arthas had not struck her down previously were, first, his preoccupation with dealing with Ner'zhul, and second, his fear that a full-scale purge of the black dragon within Stormwind would inflict catastrophic losses upon Varian.

He had no desire to see his dear friend's newly rebuilt city torn apart by a rampaging black dragon mere years after its restoration.

Taking advantage of Varian's journey to Kalimdor, Arthas had proposed that Tiffin and Anduin take a vacation in Lordaeron, thereby shielding them from the hidden machinations of those corrupt nobles.

Concerned for his family's safety, Varian agreed without hesitation. Compared to the nobles within his own domain, he evidently trusted Arthas far more.

Although Bolvar was unswervingly loyal, he was himself a member of the nobility, making it difficult for him to take direct action against other noble factions.

Arthas had specifically arranged for Tiffin and Anduin to vacation in Caer Darrow because the location offered three distinct layers of defense.

The first layer consisted of the elite guard stationed within their estate; the second layer comprised the ubiquitous networks of the Privy Council; and as for the third layer—known to no one save Arthas himself—it was Scholomance.

Although the Darkmaster Gandling's strength paled in comparison to the absolute pinnacle of archmages like Antonidas, Kel'thuzad, and Kael'thas, he was far from an easy target.

What Arthas had not anticipated, however, was that the black dragon princess would abandon Stormwind so readily, journeying all the way to Lordaeron and risking the exposure of her true identity just to seize Varian's sole weakness.

It appeared the countess had been provoked by some event, driving her to take matters into her own hands.

Regardless of what the black dragon princess was thinking, since she had set foot in Caer Darrow, she had walked straight into the trap Arthas had laid.

He immediately communicated his orders to Darkmaster Gandling via soul-link.

"Open the teleportation array within Scholomance. I am sending a few helpers to assist you. Remember, do not let your subordinates get too close, or that black dragon will notice."

***

Gandling accepted the Lich King's assignment with a heart full of eager anticipation, but a moment later, a sudden realization struck him.

"A black dragon? What black dragon? Isn't she just a human countess?"

The Lich King's voice rang out once more, "That Countess Katrana is, in truth, the daughter of Deathwing Neltharion, the ruler of the Black Dragonflight: Onyxia."

Deathwing's daughter?!

Gandling froze in place as if struck by lightning, his swelling confidence instantly evaporating into gut-wrenching dread. To be fair, he possessed a profound self-awareness, and the Dean knew full well that he was no match for a black dragon.

Blessed by Neltharion's domain as the Aspect of Earth, the Black Dragonflight possessed extraordinary innate abilities. Although very few among their kind were skilled spellcasters, they compensated with terrifying magical resistance and physical resilience.

Aside from the blue dragons, who were masters of the arcane, black dragons were the natural nemesis of almost all mages. Their scales easily dissipated the vast majority of incoming magical power.

Every single research text on draconic species in Dalaran bore a single piece of advice regarding black dragons: If you are a mage, your best course of action is to cast Blink and run for your life via teleportation.

And now, the Lich King was commanding him to deal with a black dragon?

Gandling was seized with panic, entirely unsure of how to fulfill this mission. Fortunately, he managed to calm down in time, recalling the reinforcement Arthas had promised.

"I can only hope he sends someone reliable..."

If the Lich King merely dispatched a few ghouls, Gandling's only option would be to poison them beforehand and pray that Onyxia suffered from indigestion after biting into them.

***

"Orgrim! We have work to do!" Lothar donned his rune-forged armor, picked up his full-face-concealing helm, and strode into the training ground.

Orgrim was in the midst of cleaning his warhammer with a rag. The orc death knight let out a cold grunt, "What is it?"

"Hah, I think you'll like this—we're going to deal with a black dragon."

Orgrim's hand paused slightly over the warhammer. He raised his head and looked at Lothar, "A black dragon? I recall those winged lizards prefer scorching volcanic environments."

"Of course not in Northrend. We are heading to Lordaeron."

***

Orgrim remained silent for a moment before gripping his warhammer and standing tall, "When do we depart?"

The orc held no fondness for black dragons; those creatures had caused the old Horde no end of trouble.

What Orgrim did not know, however, was that the remnants of the Blackrock clan who had fled back to Blackrock Mountain, led by Rend Blackhand—the son of former Warchief Blackhand—had surrendered to the black dragon prince Nefalian, becoming vassals of the Black Dragonflight.

Had Orgrim learned of this, as a proud Blackrock orc, he would have flown into a rage, marched upon Blackrock Mountain, and personally bashed that fool Rend's brains in.

For now, however, Orgrim merely wished to test the true limits of his new body's strength. Had they been on Draenor, he might have gone out to hunt a gronn.

Yet Azeroth lacked gronn; still, a black dragon seemed like a suitable substitute.

As he followed Lothar out of the training ground toward the teleportation platform, Orgrim asked, "Just the two of us?"

"Of course not. Anub'rekan and Sasassarian are coming as well. The four of us should be more than enough."

"Hmph. That frail human boy? He'll only slow us down." Orgrim believed Sassarian lacked the strength to merit a place in this hunt.

"Bringing Sassarian is the Lich King's command. As for whether he becomes a liability, I believe Sasassarian will prove his worth through action."

Lothar glanced at the death knight encased in black armor. Beneath his visor-like helm, twin flames of unquenchable blue burned steadily.

"I won't be picking up the pieces if some useless whelp gets himself eaten or torn in half. You'll be on your own if that happens."

Orgrim hoisted his warhammer, resting it across his shoulder as he stood beside the towering crypt lord, Anub'rekan. Beneath their feet, the teleportation array flickered to life, energized by the lingering soul-magic of an elven archmage ghost.

Sassarian gazed straight ahead with an icy, unblinking stare. Slung across his back were two rune-blades he had personally etched: one named Vengeance, and the other, Cruelty.

To Orgrim's taunts, he offered only silence, as though deaf to the orc's disdain. Having stumbled twice and walked through the gates of death twice, Sassarian understood the bitter price of impulsiveness and rashness. That rash rookie was long dead, replaced entirely by a cold-blooded death knight.

And his very first assigned target under the Lich King's banner was the fallen black dragon princess, Onyxia.