In Draenor, Ner'zhul finally agreed to Taron's suggestion to conscript the last batch of Orcs to head to Azeroth. This mission was not an invasion but a search for an Artifact that could open a Time-Space Rift. Using these Artifacts, he would open a gateway to a new world.
He felt deep pain over the gradual death of Draenor. If he hadn't brought the Burning Legion here, Draenor would not have become like this. Fel Energy constantly corrupted the land, draining its life and reducing food production, which led to different races slaughtering each other. Once they ran out of opponents—after the Ogres, Tiger-Men, Arakkoa, Draenei, and Primordial Thorn Beasts had all been struck down—they had no choice but to invade Azeroth, only to suffer a crushing defeat. Most of their fighting force had been wiped out, and the survivors were largely taken prisoner.
"I leave the search for the Artifact to you. I will construct an altar on Draenor; return quickly once you have succeeded." Ner'zhul's face was covered in grayish-white paint, a punishment Shaman Priests used for failed apprentices. He did this to punish himself and ease his conscience. He entrusted this to Taron Bloodmage because Taron had been his close friend; he too had once been a Shaman Priest before becoming a Warlock, and now he was a monstrous creature—a human undead.
"Yes, High Priest. I will surely return with the Artifact to turn the tide," Taron Bloodmage promised. He didn't want to die either, but staying on Draenor meant certain death sooner or later. The surviving Orcs here had already begun killing each other, driven by the frenzy of the Demon Blood. Some had even turned to self-mutilation in their madness!
Ner'zhul nodded slightly, though in his heart he didn't truly trust this friend who had betrayed him before. But he had no other choice. It was better to take a gamble than to wait for death.
A few days later, in the capital of Lordaeron.
The city had been repaired from the damage the Orcs had dealt to its walls. Many citizens lined the streets. Battalions of battle-worn soldiers in battered armor marched slowly down the roads.
Cheers and flowers rained down from above. This was to welcome the returning warriors. The war that had lasted years was finally won; it was a great boost to morale. Humanity had prevailed!
Every soldier marching past held their head high, soaking in the cheers of the people. They deserved to be celebrated. They had defended the survival of the human race with their blood and lives; it was all worth it.
In front of the massive plaza, Terenas stood on a high platform, flanked by Antonidas, the leader of Dalaran, and Admiral Daelin Proudmoore of Kul Tiras. The other human kings were lined up behind them. Arthas's position was even further back; he had handed the command of his troops to Marlene, choosing instead to watch the spectacle from here.
"My friends, this is the strength of a united Alliance. Only by standing together can we overcome any difficulty. Post-war reconstruction will succeed—it must succeed." Terenas felt a surge of pride. As the head of the Alliance, the feeling of using political maneuvers to command other kingdoms was intoxicating. By bringing the kingdom to its peak, he could leave his name in history like the first emperors!
"We shall surely succeed," Admiral Daelin echoed. Today was the day his daughter would be betrothed to Arthas, so naturally, he agreed. Besides, Kul Tiras had been facing some issues lately that were giving him a headache.
The other kings also voiced their agreement. They had received their benefits; the lands of the Kingdom of Alterac had already been carved up, and everyone had gotten a piece of the pie. Terenas hadn't kept it all for himself; instead, he had divided the land equally. Since everyone received roughly the same, no one could complain. Lordaeron, which had contributed the most, took only its fair share, so those who contributed less had even less to say. Having taken the benefits, these old foxes knew exactly how to behave.
In another row stood the noblewomen of various nations—queens and wives of Great Lords. They all swirled around Queen Lianne, praising her for raising such an exceptional son. They were either seeking parenting advice or asking if they could get a share of Arthas's business. Arthas's business had been expanding rapidly, almost monopolizing trade with the High Elves. If anyone wanted to buy enchanted products, they almost had to buy from him. There were also many Exotic Goods; those trinkets and stockings were driving the noblewomen wild.
Queen Calia was among them, standing with a graceful smile. Her eyes didn't seek out Arthas; she simply watched the parade below, standing straight with a perfect, practiced smile. Only she knew that she was working hard to tighten her muscles to keep herself composed. Just before the ceremony began, she had been pressed against a wall by Arthas and taken fiercely for half an hour; she felt as though she had been rubbed raw. He had finished inside her in a hurry and then dragged her to the ceremony. She hadn't even had time to clean up; she had to keep herself tight, and she wasn't even wearing underwear.
If it weren't for her long gown, one might have seen the traces of his seed running down her thighs. The sensation of the warmth churning in her lower abdomen and then overflowing made her afraid to move. Although her legs were aching from standing, she didn't shift her position, fearing that a drop might fall to the ground—that would be an utter scandal!
This thrilling, risky situation made her feel a bit resentful toward Arthas, but more than that, she felt helpless. Being graced by the man was already a blessing; she didn't dare ask for more. Especially with so many young, beautiful women around him, she didn't even dare to hope for much, only that he wouldn't abandon her.
The good news was that Arthas had mentioned taking her to Kalimdor, where he could possess her without restraint. The bad news was that with such frequent internal releases, her period, which should have arrived, was late. She even suspected she might be pregnant. However, she had no symptoms of nausea or vomiting. Azeroth had no Pregnancy Tests, so she wouldn't know for sure until her belly began to show.
The solemn military parade lasted over two hours, and the citizens' enthusiasm did not wane. Terenas used a Magical Amplification Device to deliver a speech, filled with platitudes to elevate Lordaeron's prestige. While praising the war heroes, he subtly included his son. Throughout the speech, he painted himself as a wise and far-sighted leader who had facilitated the formation of the Alliance of Lordaeron. Without a very thick skin, it would have been impossible to say such self-aggrandizing words. It's one thing when others praise you, but quite another to praise yourself so shamelessly.