Having finished, Obsidian stretched his massive dragon body and found a comfortable position to lazily lie down.
"Finally… I'll rest for a moment, then go build the Divine Palace." He mused, his dragon eyes slowly closing.
—Divider—
A moment later, Storm Peaks, outside Ulduar.
Ekseltus tore through the void, descending into the biting cold winds of Storm Peaks.
His five-colored scales shimmered with brilliant luster under the aurora.
His dragon wings folded, and his four powerful dragon claws landed steadily on the eternally snow-covered, ice-bound mountain peak.
His control of force was perfect, not even leaving a trace on the snow.
"Ulduar…"
His dragon eyes narrowed slightly, his sharp gaze piercing through the wind and snow, looking towards the Titan city in the distance.
The towering metal walls, reaching into the clouds, were indistinct in the wind and snow, with arcane runes on them flickering with faint yet eternal pale blue light.
No matter which map you looked at, it was the undisputed center of Storm Peaks… despite its geographical location being at the northernmost point.
That was the sealed place of the Old God, Yogg-Saron.
The Titans defeated and sealed this terrifying Old God, leaving behind powerful jailers—those beings now respectfully called 'Guardians.'
Of course, Ulduar ultimately could not escape the fate of internal corruption; the Old God broke free, and the Guardians fell one after another.
Then the adventurers appeared, punching Guardians, kicking Old Gods, and saving the world once again.
However, that was all for later.
Ekseltus's primary goal for this trip was to settle scores!
Who allowed you to extend your tentacles into my territory?
If he could find a way to completely destroy this Old God without breaking the seal, that would naturally be excellent.
But if not, it would be best to proceed cautiously.
You wouldn't want to be sought out by the Titans for messing up their broken artifacts, right?
As for other purposes… mainly, he wanted to know how strong he was.
This avatar only had about ten percent of the main body's combat power, but he still felt much stronger than Saritus.
And those Guardians and a sealed Old God were currently ideal test subjects.
Based on power levels, a perfectly correct inequality could be easily derived:
Titan > Old God > Guardian.
And the Titans were already considered the strongest beings in this universe; above them, there should only be the First Ones.
Just as Ekseltus was deep in thought, he suddenly noticed a gaze from beneath the clouds staring at him.
"Interesting…"
Somewhere deep within the clouds, not far from Ekseltus.
A massive dark shadow, almost merging with the lead-gray cloud mass, was silently lurking, suppressing all its aura.
A pair of red vertical pupils, burning with wisdom and madness, blinked incredulously in the shadows, seemingly repeatedly confirming whether the cognition-defying sight before him was real.
"So beautiful…" A deep voice, yet with an undeniable youthful quality, whispered in the shadows, tinged with a hint of obsession.
Nefarian!
Deathwing's eldest son, the future Lord of Blackwing, was at this moment merely a "pawn" sent by his father to Northrend to gather intelligence.
According to news that had changed hands an unknown number of times: half a year ago, a black dragon never before seen in any dragon records appeared in Northrend.
By its size, it was at least a several-thousand-year-old adult black dragon.
Although even Deathwing didn't know where he came from, he still sent his recently adult, ambitious eldest son, Nefarian.
"Try to recruit him. If not…" Deathwing's command was cold and cruel, "Then find a way to eliminate him."
"Father said, 'All other dragons are our mortal enemies.'" Nefarian gazed up at the dazzlingly colorful giant dragon in the sky, his red vertical pupils contracting slightly with excitement, "But this one… this is a perfect creation that defies draconic perception! It's a living work of art!"
He subconsciously licked the corner of his mouth, not from hunger, but out of habit.
Five-colored scales sounded chaotic, but on that dragon's body, they were so harmonious and unified:
Fiery red, profound blue, vibrant green, time-solidifying bronze, and that majestic black, which was of the same origin as him yet distinctly different…
He did not belong to any dragonflight, yet he drew from each of the five dragonflights, ultimately forging an unprecedented harmony.
"This is too incredible…" An unprecedented, addiction-like intense curiosity wildly grew in Nefarian's heart, "This is absolutely a miracle that could not have been born through natural evolution!"
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