The Burning Steppes were to the north. The Horde had already retreated to the Blasted Lands, where they were felling trees and building siege engines for a final battle with the Alliance.
At this time, there should be very few Orcs left in Blackrock Spire; they should have all retreated. How could there still be Orcs here?
In the end, Arthas took the two sisters, Alleria and Vereesa, to rendezvous with Onyxia, leaving only Sylvanas to manage the Ranger Corps.
Sylvanas just rolled her eyes helplessly. It was impossible for her to leave with Arthas. She still hated him right now, so how could she possibly go with him?
Using Ley Line Energy to teleport near Blackrock Mountain, the group then flew towards Blackrock Spire.
This time, Onyxia sent two Wyrmlings for Alleria to ride, while she herself transformed into a Dragon to carry Arthas toward Blackrock Spire.
From a great distance, they could see an ancient, colossal tower rising from the ground, leaning against a mountain peak.
Even flying hundreds of meters above the ground, they could still feel the scorching heat radiating from below. Gusts of wind buffeted them, and the air was thick with a burnt smell.
Looking down, the earth was a shade of gray, with sand and gravel flying about. When the wind blew, a cloud of dust assaulted them, making it hard to keep their eyes open.
There was no vegetation at all, only a few pitiful, dead tree trunks still standing, long devoid of life.
"This used to be a forest, didn't it? Now it's completely lifeless. That big screw Ragnaros has really caused a lot of harm." Arthas had no fondness for Elemental beings.
Flame scorches all things, and wind erodes mountain rocks. Aside from Water Elementals and Earth Elementals, which were slightly better, no elementals were good. Elementals were inherently violent.
With mountains collapsing, the earth splitting, and tsunamis sweeping across the land, just surviving in that era would have been a problem.
You could be sleeping in the middle of the night, and magma might erupt from beneath you, or a flash flood could rush down from the mountains. You wouldn't even know how you died.
"What? Are you thinking of being a Druid for a day?" Onyxia chuckled.
Every time she was with her husband, she was in an exceptionally good mood. She didn't know why, but she just felt an overwhelming sense of happiness.
"No, it's just that green vegetation represents abundant resources. We're almost there. Hmm, are there people over there?" Arthas's eyes could see far into the distance, and he spotted a patch of red names from afar.
The earth was cracked with shallow trenches, through which flowed roiling, scorching magma. Although there was only a little, even a single drop of that searing magma would be unbearable for any living creature.
Some areas had even sunk to form ponds, only the liquid inside was magma!
"It's really scorching," Arthas said, feeling the intense heat himself.
"That's because you're not strong enough. Newborn Black Dragons have to go through the process of struggling and taking flight from within magma. They're thrown into the magma over and over again, their skin burned off, only to be thrown back in. They're only let out to breathe just before they die of exhaustion." Onyxia recounted her past experiences.
The reason she and her brother Nefarian could step into the Heroic Tier and were much stronger than other Dragons of their age wasn't just because they were the children of a Dragon Aspect. The childhood trauma was still there; they had been tortured half to death, surviving purely on their tenacious willpower.
"It seems Deathwing left a deep shadow on you," Arthas sighed, reaching out to stroke Onyxia's dragon scales.
"All this tempering is a guarantee of future strength, and it was also the trial that led to our meeting. My dear wife, I will dote on you even more in the future."
"Hehe, I believe you," Onyxia smiled.
She didn't resent her father too much; no matter what he did, he was still her father. It was just that this father was somewhat capricious and incredibly powerful, making it impossible to resist most of the time.
Even if they turned against him, the other Dragons wouldn't welcome Black Dragons, leaving them with no way out.
A group of Blackrock Orcs was working with Goblins on a ritual. In the center of the altar was a giant Flame Stone Statue.
Surrounding it, Goblin sappers used Flame Throwers to periodically raise the Flame Golem's temperature, while some Troll Priests were calling upon Fire Elementals to empower the Golem.
"What are they doing?" Vereesa asked curiously.
The feeling of flying on a Dragon for the first time was absolutely amazing! Every young girl has an adventurous heart, just like Calia.
But unlike Calia, who was trapped in the royal palace, Vereesa had never left Quel'thalas, so she was exceptionally curious about the outside world. Once curiosity like this is satisfied, it is truly satisfied.
Watching the Troll Priests perform a strange dance around the Flame Golem, a peculiar thought flashed through Arthas's mind. "Have they thrown in their lot with the Firelord?"
"It's not 'have they,' it's 'they definitely have.'" A trace of disdain flashed in Sinestra's voice.
She always regarded any living creature with a look of contempt. Given her former status as a Guardian Dragon Consort and her power, she certainly had the right to.
She had originally been very disdainful of Arthas as well, but because he could neutralize the Corrosion Effect on the Dragon Eggs and had received the Titans' favor, she began to see him in a different light.
Otherwise, let alone being her daughter's consort, even being Deathwing's consort would have been useless; he would still be looked down upon.
Strength was the only real currency. Without it, everything else was just smoke and mirrors.
At that moment, in front of Blackrock Spire, the Orc general Sorgin was roaring, "Speed it up! We must finish today and then reinforce the Warchief!"
Roar! A tremendous Dragon Roar echoed as a Dragon over thirty meters long flew out from Blackrock Spire. It had strange horns on its head. "Insignificant crawlers, how dare you perform a ritual on my territory! I will not spare you!"
Whoosh! Several slightly smaller Black Dragons followed, flying out. These were not yet full-grown Dragons, not even fully formed. But the Dragon Breath they spat was still incredibly hot, capable of burning Orcs to death!
From a distance, Arthas saw his 'big brother-in-law.' The four characters for 'Nefarian' were so obvious that he couldn't ignore them even if he wanted to.
The Blackrock Orcs below were sent howling in agony by the Dragon Breath, wishing their parents had given them two more legs.
Occasionally, a Flying Axe would hit a Black Dragon. The pained Dragon would become even more frenzied, even starting to dive.
Using its massive size to its advantage, a single tail swipe smashed many Orcs to death. It would snatch an Orc with its claws and stuff it into its mouth, a completely bestial act. Even Sinestra frowned at the sight, but she did not intervene.