American comics: Starting with Luke the Maker

Terenas Menethil's ambition shocked Kel'Thuzad.

"What can I do for you?" Kel'Thuzad asked, a little nervously. This new king seemed to possess many unknown secrets, which stirred some unease within him.

Even a king of a powerful nation couldn't force an Archmage to do something against his will, especially since Kel'Thuzad belonged to Dalaran.

Remember the original website domain 𝚝𝕨𝕜𝕒𝕟.𝕔𝕠𝕞

"I know your desired magical research isn't permitted in Dalaran. Why not leave Dalaran temporarily and come to Lordaeron? At least while Lordaeron holds the keys, the resources in the Dragonspire will be enough for you to squander and utilize," Terenas said, ignoring Kel'Thuzad's shifting, unpredictable expression, and softly tempting him.

"What's the price?" Kel'Thuzad was tempted, but he also knew that Terenas Menethil wouldn't be so generous without a cost.

"As an Archmage, you should have your own students and followers in Dalaran, right? I don't care how many people you bring, or if you monopolize those resources, but you need to train a group of court mages loyal to the royal family for Lordaeron, and regularly use the Dragonspire's resources to provide magical equipment for Lordaeron's army: swords, spears, shields, bows, and magic scrolls. Finally," Terenas looked deeply at Kel'Thuzad, "during this period of cooperation, all your research results, whether it's research on the Dragonspire or other magical research, must be disclosed to the Lordaeron royal family without reservation."

"That's a bit of a tall order, Your Majesty," Kel'Thuzad said, looking troubled.

"Isn't Dalaran a city for open magical learning? I thought you would be happy to share your research results," Terenas said with a mocking smile, not knowing whether he was laughing at Dalaran or the Kel'Thuzad before him. "Lordaeron is paying resources, money, and manpower, and taking on a certain amount of risk. This is what Lordaeron deserves. If not you, there will be other Archmages willing to agree to these conditions, won't there?"

"You've convinced me," Kel'Thuzad said with a slight bow.

They exchanged knowing smiles and once again turned their gaze to the Dragonspire, which, even after thousands of years, still looked magnificent and awe-inspiring.

Terenas Menethil's face was filled with the excitement of grand ambitions.

Kel'Thuzad, on the other hand, looked eagerly at the Dragonspire, wanting to study the origin of the power of the Tyrant Dragon King from a thousand years ago.

It is said that the Well of Eternity ten thousand years ago and the current Sunwell are places where magical power converges, but the high-level mages of Dalaran know that there is another source of magical power in this world.

That is what belonged to the Tyrant Dragon King Bakar.

The Dragonspire is said to be the building that the Tyrant Dragon King used to gather magical power, equivalent to the elves' Sunwell. Although much of the information has been buried in the light of history, the fact that this tower has been operating stably for thousands of years and constantly radiating energy fluctuations around it makes this statement highly credible in the minds of those who know it.

The magical crystals and various colored gems with different functions that are mined and collected from the ground around the tower every year are more than enough to supply the consumption of the entire magical city of Dalaran.

Over the millennia, it's not that there haven't been powerful mages who wanted to explore the secrets of the Dragonspire's power, but without exception, every mage who had some success and delved into it didn't end well.

This power seemed to be cursed by the Tyrant Dragon King. Any mage who wanted to deeply control it would become mentally unstable, mad, and crazy after a period of time. More seriously, their souls would become distorted and affect their bodies.

It was as if they had been contaminated by an Old God.

This was the evaluation given by the Guardian Dragons.

So gradually, the Dragonspire became a taboo. Human mages needed it, but they couldn't resist that contaminating power. Under duress, with the witness of the Guardian Dragons and elves, human mages stipulated that no mage was allowed to privately study the secrets of the Dragonspire until a proper method could be found.

……

Draenor.

"A beacon tower?"

Held, observing the spiritual power outside the domain, inexplicably sensed an anomaly. Somewhere in this universe, there seemed to be a faint signal that she was familiar with, calling to her.

But this signal was so weak that she couldn't pinpoint its location for a while.

But without a doubt, that should be the place where the last Apostle lived.

And the hub where Agatha was located.

For some reason, Held felt this almost certain understanding in her heart.

Rampant elements roamed in the surrounding air, and a rich elemental force was gathered here from all directions. Ceaseless blizzards relentlessly covered the surrounding hundreds of miles.

The whistling cold wind was like the sharpest blade, reaping all life in this area.

The summoned shamans were adding various buffs to the clan's warriors, and the warm golden light resisted the terrifying blizzard like ice magic for the orc warriors, so that their limbs would not be frozen, frostbitten, and then gradually lose their lives and become a silent ice sculpture.

There was another group of shamans compressing a huge figure in the center of the blizzard with the power of thunder and shadow.

It was a dragon with smooth curves, horned head, full of violence and death.

Its wings were being attacked by strong elemental attacks, and they hung tattered on the ground, unable to soar in the sky. A prison made of thunder rumbled and vibrated above it, restricting its movement.

Groups of orc warriors, carrying their weapons, launched a fearless attack on the dark green dragon under a strange force and various buffs.

The ice field under their feet was already covered with potholes of various sizes, and green liquid filled these potholes, polluting the surrounding environment and life like a plague.

If anyone took a breath here, the biting cold wind and the rich power of death would turn a strong orc into decay in an instant, and then be covered by the blizzard.

All the orcs who came to participate in the dragon hunting festival knew that orcs who were not strong enough did not even have the chance and strength to walk up to the evil dragon and swing their weapons.

The rich power of death surrounding the evil dragon was enough to make any life that dared to approach it feel what it meant to wither and decay.

Even the youngest and most powerful orc warriors, if they couldn't get close to the evil dragon in a short time and inflict enough fatal damage on it, the longer the time, the greater their probability of death.

Especially since the evil dragon could also use its own power of death to summon the souls of those warriors who died at its hands. They had lost their memories and reason, and would only wander around the evil dragon like wandering souls, clearing all enemies who dared to approach it.

Just thinking about it, the conditions for the crusade against the evil dragon were enough to be the nightmare of all clans.

If the evil dragon was not killed, the area where the orcs lived would become smaller and smaller, and the environment would become more and more harsh. In the end, the orcs could only wait for death.

If they wanted to kill the evil dragon, they had to endure its resurrection again and again, and its increasingly rampant destruction. It was a temporary solution, not a permanent cure.

But this time, everyone believed that this was the best chance to solve the evil dragon disaster once and for all!

Many clans were forcibly kneaded together, many shamans mastered more powerful elemental power and were able to prevent it from being affected by the chaotic elemental power, and the orc warriors were able to approach the evil dragon without hindrance under the protection of the High Priest and fight it in close combat.

All the clans that were kneaded together gave birth to a kind of fanatical belief. They longed to end that evil dragon, and this would become the most honorable battle in their lives!

Even at the cost of death!

Among them, the most courageous warriors charging forward were Grommash of the Warsong Clan and Galada of the Frostwolf Clan. The two clan chiefs led their clan warriors to fight at the forefront.

The evil dragon's breath and claws brought huge casualties to the two clans, but the two clans seemed indifferent to the sacrifice, and showed their almost crazy side with more crazy battles and attacks.

The legendary giant axe Bloodhowl in Grommash's hand successively cleaved ugly wounds on the evil dragon's body, and a large amount of scalding green blood splashed on the ground, burning patches of potholes on the thick ice layer. Even in the blizzard, the activity of other elements had been tried to be suppressed, but unknown and poisonous gas still spread to the surroundings with the cold wind.

However, those poisonous gases would be filtered and purified when they touched the golden light on the orcs, and disappeared into the blizzard.

The battle lasted for an unknown amount of time.

The bodies of the orc warriors were piled up around the evil dragon, and under the weakening of various magics, the evil dragon's exuberant energy finally showed a trace of stagnation, and its strength was no longer as strong as before.

The orc warriors who survived at the forefront and could be called elites sensitively noticed this change at the first time, and they fearlessly launched the next wave of violent attacks.

An orc warrior was slapped away by the evil dragon, rolled on the ice field and lost his breath, but in the next moment, two or three plural orc warriors would top up and inflict damage on the evil dragon.

This kind of madness that even at the cost of one's own death, one had to bite a piece of the evil dragon's flesh, had become the norm in the meat grinder-like battlefield.

Finally, the evil dragon's claws were chopped off, the tattered wings were chopped off, and the thick and strong lower limbs were chopped off. Finally, Grommash, who was holding a giant axe and covered in blood, looked at the ants-like eyes of the dismembered evil dragon, raised his battle axe high with both hands and jumped up high. The giant axe blessed by Held and magically modified drew a long axe blade and chopped off the evil dragon's head.

However, the evil dragon was still not dead.

Its limbs still existed, and they were still struggling on the ground of the ice field, trying to gather together. But black bandage-like rectangular shadows wrapped around the evil dragon's limbs along the ground of the ice field, sealing them one by one.

The evil dragon's limbs jumping on the ground suddenly quieted down, and stopped moving as if they had lost their vitality. The evil dragon's head was wrapped tightly by the sealing tape, and finally lost consciousness.

In the blizzard, countless orc warriors raised their weapons and let out a fanatical war cry in the face of the goose feather snow falling from the sky. They had won the victory in this tragic battle.

They had solved the Skyfall Dragon that no one had been able to solve for thousands of years.

Everyone present was a participant in this legendary battle, and this glory was almost irresistible for the orcs who valued honor so much.

"High Priest."

After cheering and celebrating, Grommash walked to Held, who was guarded by many shamans, knelt on one knee, and completely dedicated his loyalty to her.

"Each clan takes away a part of the evil dragon's limbs, and I will let the shamans who have mastered the seal follow you to suppress its limbs in all directions. For at least a hundred years, you will not be harassed by the evil dragon," Held said softly.

"A hundred years? Does that mean it will come out to do evil again?" Galada, who came over, heard Held's words, and the joy in her heart was like being poured a pot of cold water on her head, and the high-spirited blood cooled down in the blizzard.

"The evil dragon is immortal, we can only choose to seal it or exile it. In the thousands of years, it has polluted too many places, and this planet has been deeply polluted by the evil dragon. Even the elements have become filled with the aura of death and chaos. This world has begun to move towards its twilight years.

Even if there is no evil dragon disaster in the future, various disasters will occur in the twilight years! Plagues, high temperatures, extreme cold, resource depletion, as time goes by, it will become more and more unsuitable for life to survive.

This time may last for hundreds of years, or perhaps thousands of years. But under the pollution of the power of death, this world is rapidly heading towards its end at a speed that no one can stop," Held concluded.

"Then, what should we do?" Hearing Held's conclusion, the clan chiefs of Grommash and other orc clans panicked. They thought that solving the evil dragon would restore normal life, but the future sounded different from what they imagined, but even worse.

"A great transfer!" Held said her plan: "During this time, I will find a planet suitable for the orcs to live and reproduce. Then conquer it and migrate all the orcs here. Reducing the number of orcs can also delay the death of this planet.

This is for the future of the orcs!"

Grommash and Galada and other chiefs bowed slightly.

"Of course, before that, we must first unite all the orc clans and twist all the power of this planet together. I don't need so many divided orc clans, I want a unified, united alliance," Held said softly.

"Go and fight for me, and also for the future of the orcs."

PS: Thank you to classmate Quiet Peak for the reward.