American comics: Starting with Luke the Maker

Boundless fire rain plummeted from the sky, descending upon the roaring behemoth.

However, the magic, imbued with immense power, merely sparked and chipped away at the beast, much to the despair of the elves. The searing, volatile fire element was being swallowed whole by the creature as if it were nothing.

To make matters worse, they suddenly realized that many high-damage spells were now only half as effective and consumed twice as much energy, even the chanting time had been extended.

This almost made the already difficult situation even more hopeless.

Even disregarding the potential harm to the Sunwell, they were virtually powerless against the giant beast with their current strength. Each of its movements felt like an earthquake, offering the elves a glimpse of apocalyptic destruction.

The once peaceful, natural, and scenic surroundings had long been reduced to a wasteland. Awakened and enraged, the beast launched a massive assault on the elves.

Not since the war a thousand years ago had the elves of Quel'Thalas suffered such grievous losses. This dealt a significant blow to their long-held arrogance and pride.

A thousand years ago, they had the help of humans, dragons, and various other races, but what about now?

As members of the human alliance of Thoradin, the closest kingdoms like Lordaeron were experiencing their own troubles, making it unlikely they could provide any support.

What about the dragons?

Unless it was an invasion from beyond or a world-ending catastrophe, those creatures who preferred to nest in their lairs and fulfill their duties would likely not bother to glance outwards.

But regardless, even if those forces were willing to lend a hand, it would be too late.

The unknown beast was wreaking havoc on the surroundings, each step causing the ground to sink into a deep pit, the tremors spreading far and wide. This indicated that its body density was far greater than its size suggested.

Its roar shook the heavens and the earth, any elf who got too close would have their minds blanked out and even suffer severe internal injuries.

Roaring flames swirled around the beast's body as it moved, like a massive turtle carrying a volcano on its back.

A thick cloud of potent poison gas spread from the beast's body, shrouding it in a hazy mist. This gas was highly corrosive, any life that dared approach the poisonous cloud would be dissolved. Even steel and magical equipment were treated equally, corroded into a pile of useless junk.

This effectively prevented anyone from approaching the beast. Both the high-temperature flames and the ever-expanding cloud of poison forced the elves to retreat again and again.

The beast didn't even need to do anything special; simply walking across Quel'Thalas would turn the beautiful land into an uninhabitable wasteland.

No elf could withstand the corrosive poison gas for long, and no city could withstand the trampling and ravaging of the beast. The elven-built royal city was just a pile of fragile, useless things to the beast.

The elves had already used all their means, the light of arcane spells and magical arrows never ceasing. But those arcane spells were either absorbed without effect or were mostly incinerated by the poison cloud and high-temperature flames before they could reach the beast.

Profound and dangerous magic, such as spatial magic, was inexplicably restricted and could not function as intended.

As for banishment?

Even with the Sunwell's power, banishing this behemoth would require a great deal of effort, let alone now that the Sunwell was occupied, and not a single bit of its energy could be borrowed.

Their prepared casting materials and preliminary preparations were rendered useless when they couldn't stop the beast's advance. Those things had already become its food.

They did want to lure the monster elsewhere, such as the icy continent occupied by the frost dragon Skassa. But without spatial magic for teleportation, they simply couldn't do it.

Not to mention the losses they would inevitably suffer along the way, this greedy beast would never leave the Sunwell too far behind.

They had tried it many times. Although the beast would furiously attack and drive them away each time, it would not advance any further once it reached a certain distance.

Roar!

A long and loud roar from the beast echoed through the air, accompanied by a gust of wind.

Two sun-like eyes stared at the elves with great malice from within the swirling poison cloud. The Sunwell was now completely enveloped in the poison cloud, and with the awakening of the beast, the range of the poison cloud was constantly expanding.

If there were no restrictions, it would soon reach the royal city of Quel'Thalas, and if that happened, they would have to migrate and relocate like they did ten thousand years ago.

"What are we going to do next?"

A high elf looked disheveled, feeling the ground tremble beneath his feet, watching the behemoth disappear back into the poison cloud. As the range of the poison cloud expanded, it became increasingly difficult for them to enter the cloud and do anything to the beast.

They were even starting to worry about how to deal with the spreading poison cloud.

A barrier?

That was a good idea! But with the corrosiveness of the poison cloud, it was hard to say how long the barrier could last.

What's more, living next door to such an unresolvable behemoth meant that the nearby elven cities would have to be constantly on guard against its attacks.

The best course of action was, of course, to abandon this place and find a new place with abundant magic to settle down.

But could they abandon this place, could they abandon the Sunwell?

They couldn't!

Without the arcane energy of the Sunwell, their lifespans would be drastically shortened. And their long-accumulated magic addiction would kick in. For high elves, the arcane energy of the Sunwell was like their lifeline!

At least, they couldn't give it up easily.

Where would they find a second Sunwell?

To the lands of the night elves who had driven them out?

Anasterian's face was ashen. In recent times, he had mobilized almost all the elven power he could muster in a short period of time, even fighting as a nation, but they were helpless against that beast.

Its massive size was indeed a good target, as long as there was an attack, it had no ability to dodge at all. But the enormous size and abundant energy led to its thick skin.

Arcane magic had no effect on it at all, and profound arcane magic always had all sorts of problems. Without the supply and replenishment of the Sunwell, their strength inevitably plummeted.

And what about the beast?

The beast didn't care about the elves' arbitrary attacks. Even if it moved slowly and was not as agile as the elves, it was still a mobile volcano. Coupled with the splashing fire elements and the spreading, unreasonable, even energy-assimilating and corrosive poison cloud, the beast's difficulty skyrocketed.

Perhaps only those guardian dragons could truly and unreservedly fight it at close range.

For a moment, Anasterian even regretted expelling the orc so quickly. Perhaps he should have seriously listened to and considered the other party's proposal at the time.

But what about now?

As the King of Quel'Thalas, Anasterian knew that he had to make a choice. Either solve the beast, or find someone else to solve the beast.

As for moving away from home?

Unless those night elves who expelled them were willing to give up their habitat so that they could enjoy the arcane energy of that Well of Eternity. Otherwise, their only choice was to take back their Sunwell.

Humans?

Dragons?

Or, the root cause of all this, the orcs?

Elves were indeed arrogant, but in times of crisis, they were not resistant to the help of external forces. At least in those two great wars, the elves never thought of relying on their own strength to solve the problem.

...

Stratholme.

It was night again, and Uther, with a grave expression, led his newly formed team of paladins patrolling back and forth near the plague quarantine zone. In recent days, he had seen that phantom.

They even had brief contact.

It was an extremely ugly and evil-looking creature, its whole body like some kind of shadow creature, without a physical body, but it would leave behind some body fragments.

It was a strong source of plague infection. Just by touching a small piece of its fragments, Uther, who was protected by the Holy Light, was infected with some kind of disease.

It was difficult to kill. Even the dense Holy Light only made it scream a few times when it landed on it. But at the same time, various weak and vicious states were forcibly hung on his body. Even his strong body, protected by the Holy Light, issued a [warning] to him in an instant. He felt severe pain in his body, felt weak all over, and coughed up black blood desperately.

Even he was like this, and the few soldiers beside him did not even struggle, they were directly corroded from the cell state, first they were bloody, then their bones were forest, and finally they were completely turned into a wisp of dust. Not even a corpse was left behind.

Fortunately, the other party did not take the opportunity to attack him, but escaped into the dark shadows. The dense power of the Holy Light and the power of the dark shadows in his body constantly collided and dissipated. It took Uther a little time to remove them, and he felt as if he had walked through the gate of hell.

After recovering, Uther did not dare to touch the fallen fragments with his limbs again. After purifying the surroundings with Holy Light, he left.

In the following days, Uther would participate in the night patrol almost every day. He had been wanting to see the shadow creature again. He had determined that it was the one that caused the plague in Stratholme. It was the fuse of this plague, the source of the plague.

As for the plague in Lordaeron's royal city, Uther suspected that it was a similar situation. It was some kind of shadow creature that was summoned from outside by the orc shamans or high priests.

As long as it was solved, could the plague be completely solved?

So Uther knew that the shadow creature was very dangerous, but he still searched for its traces in Stratholme every day. Only by solving it could Stratholme truly get rid of the torment of the plague. Instead of being like now, people die from the plague every day.

The Holy Light can indeed delay the plague's harm to the human body, but it does not mean that it can be immune to the plague's harm, or ignore the plague. Even a paladin like Uther would be suddenly knocked down by a sudden infection from a fragment of the creature, let alone ordinary Stratholme residents.

Those who can persist are either those who are more devout in the Holy Light and receive more favor from the Holy Light, or those who are in relatively good physical condition and are younger.

The Holy Light can only delay the outbreak of the plague, so that Stratholme will not become a dead city in a short period of time because of the plague.

However, apart from that day, in the following days, the shadow creature seemed to have disappeared, and never appeared in front of Uther again. But the plague in Stratholme suddenly became more violent.

...

Dalaran.

"I am here to seek help from Dalaran for the elves."

Kael'thas Sunstrider, a high elf with a blood-red robe and bright golden hair, the child of Anasterian, the current King of Quel'Thalas, asked Antonidas for help.

He explained in detail and without reservation the difficulties and disasters that the elves were now facing. For him, if he could not win the support of Dalaran's reinforcements, then he could only take his followers back to Quel'Thalas to help.

Although he knew very well that even if he took people back, he was afraid that he would not be able to do anything about the behemoth. But as the prince of the elves, the next king of Quel'Thalas, there were some responsibilities and things that he had to bear and do.

"A behemoth?" Aegwynn, who came back with Antonidas, also listened to Kael'thas's words, and she was also very interested in the behemoth. As for being afraid?

Having faced Sargeras and firmly believing that she killed him, Aegwynn was not afraid of such large enemies.

But the only thing that limited her now was that her guardian power had been handed over, and the energy of magic had been tampered with. Her strength had been greatly affected.

But fortunately, she did not gain nothing from following Agatha these years. She could borrow energy from other planes and use it to cast some specific and profound magic after modification and conversion.

Under Agatha's experiments, the magic she brought from another world could be successfully used as long as she found the corresponding energy source and modified it.

Agatha also taught her many magic spells from her world, and as long as she could borrow the corresponding power, it was not difficult to use them. And coincidentally, Aegwynn's long life and research on magic allowed her to know many secrets.

When needed, she was not stingy with sharing her knowledge. She had also sought Agatha's opinion in advance.

Agatha, who was following behind Aegwynn, was deeply vigilant about this. She always felt that once Aegwynn taught the magic of another world, it might be a huge pit.

PS: Thank you to ~Lulu~ and Paradox for their rewards.