Chapter 541: Deathwing

Under the effects of Advanced Invisibility and Levitation, Alaric completely concealed his presence.

The orc warlock Nekros was struggling to get up from the ground, seething with rage, eager to further torment the red dragon that had nearly killed him.

He did not notice Alaric behind him. Moving with extreme caution, Alaric advanced at an excruciatingly slow pace, wary that even the slightest air disturbance might alert his target.

Closer… Closer still…

Now, Nekros was less than a meter away. The foolish old orc continued his incessant ranting at the red dragon, venting his frustration.

Alaric only needed to step forward a little more to drive his razor-sharp Infinity Blade into the defenseless orc's heart before he could react.

No, that would be too risky. If anything went wrong… It was safer to sever the orc's right hand that was reaching into the sack—securing the Dragon Soul was the top priority.

As long as he obtained the Dragon Soul, the most critical part of this mission would be complete. At that point, even if Deathwing appeared, it would be too late to stop him.

However, just as he inched forward, a searing heat pulsed from a finger on his left hand.

It was an alert from his enchanted ring, a magical item he had created to detect probing spells.

The meaning was clear: someone had discovered him through magic.

With Alaric's current level of concealment, passive detection spells should not have been able to find him. That left only one possibility—someone had been actively monitoring Nekros all along, using magic to continuously survey the area.

And who else could possess such magic besides Neltharion?

Now that he had been exposed, there was no time for hesitation.

Without delay, Alaric struck, delivering a decisive slash at Nekros.

The sharp Infinity Blade sliced through Nekros' shoulder as if through butter, severing his entire right arm from his body.

At that moment, a thunderous roar erupted from another direction within Grim Batol.

A massive shadow emerged from the molten depths, the fiery lava cascading down its body like mere droplets of water.

A dragon's head—black as night—rose from the seething magma, followed by a powerful neck, an enormous body, and vast wings that blotted out the sky.

This black dragon was several times larger than the massive red dragon nearby. Its body stretched nearly two hundred meters long, a size Alaric had only seen once before—in Tarecgosa. 

Its dark scales, dull and obsidian-like, were further reinforced by thick layers of metal armor. But the most striking feature was undoubtedly its enormous metal-reinforced jaw.

With a single beat of its mighty wings, the black dragon soared, trailing flames that threatened to consume everything in its path. 

Even the sprawling halls of Grim Batol seemed too narrow for its immense form. And its flight path was aimed directly at Alaric and his companions.

By now, Alaric's invisibility spell had been completely nullified by Neltharion's magic, revealing him and his group. However, the orcs' attention had already shifted to the monstrous black dragon, leaving them unnoticed.

Beside Alaric, the unfortunate Nekros writhed on the ground, clutching his severed arm in agony. 

The wounded red dragon quickly regained his senses. Although he did not understand why a human had appeared here, he knew about the war between humans and orcs.

This human had suddenly appeared, evidently an enemy of the orcs. Seeing Neltharion's sudden emergence, he seemed to grasp the situation and shouted urgently to Alaric.

"Human! Quickly, take the golden disc from that orc's bag and destroy it! Do not let the black dragon obtain it!"

Alaric did not need the red dragon's warning. He swiftly impaled Nekros to the ground with his blade and rummaged through the orc's bag to retrieve his target.

A golden disc, glowing with a strange magical radiance, no larger than a human palm.

A peculiar artifact, containing a portion of the power of the four Dragon Aspects, capable of determining the life and death of dragons.

Alaric knew that destroying this artifact would completely shatter Neltharion's scheme. However, he chose not to do so.

The real trap for the black dragon had just been set in motion.

Even if he wanted to destroy the artifact, he had little time left. Mere seconds later, the massive black dragon landed before them.

The scorching gusts from its wingbeats forced them to squint, followed by an earth-shaking impact.

But when they looked back in the direction of Deathwing, the enormous dragon that had dominated the sky was gone. Only swirling smoke and flames remained.

The orcs who had been in the square were incinerated by the infernal winds unleashed upon Deathwing's landing. 

The red dragons had survived but remained shackled and bound, unable to move.

Where was the massive black dragon? How could it have disappeared?

That was surely the first thought in everyone's mind.

Alaric considered using magic to investigate, but when he noticed Onyxia trembling violently, her head bowed low in utter terror, he understood.

Deathwing had not left.

The next moment, a cold dread gripped him, every hair on his body standing on end, as though he had just encountered the most terrifying and formidable foe of his life—an experience unlike anything he had felt before.

Not even when he had faced Voldemort had he felt such overwhelming pressure.

A sensation of searing heat and utter destruction filled the air. There was no doubt—this presence could belong to only one being: Deathwing, the most dangerous enemy of all.

"This… this is Father's presence," Onyxia whispered, confirming his worst fears.

As the dust settled, a man clad in black noble attire emerged before them. He appeared to be in his prime, tall, strikingly handsome—a refined and charismatic middle-aged nobleman.

Alaric glanced at the woman beside him, the one who bore a striking resemblance to the newcomer—Katrana Prestor.

In an instant, he realized the man's true identity.

This was Deathwing in his human form, known as Lord Prestor.

Yet Alaric spoke his true name aloud, his voice steady.

"Neltharion, so you are here after all."

"A human who knows my name? How rare indeed," Neltharion's human form spoke with a deep, magnetic voice, filled with an unnatural charm. Alaric now understood how, in the original timeline, this black dragon had effortlessly won the favor of even a wise ruler like Terenas and nearly became the new ruler of Alterac.

At this moment, Neltharion's expression remained calm. Even with the Dragon Soul in Alaric's grasp, he showed no panic. Instead, he addressed Alaric like an old acquaintance, his tone casual.

His gaze shifted to Onyxia, and a look of realization dawned on his face. "Ah, so my dear daughter is also with you. That explains much. Tell me, human, what is it that brings you here?"

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