After a moment of contemplation, Kel'Thuzad decided to surrender!
Surrender is not shameful; when there is clearly no hope, cutting losses in time is the most important thing. Now, what needs to be considered is whether he would be captured and put on trial after surrendering. In the Lordaeron Plague incident, he was also a main instigator. If truly accounted for, his crimes were heinous.
He also had his own calculations. If he could escape this calamity, that would be best. If he couldn't, then it would be a fight to the death. Currently, he could still command over two hundred thousand undead troops. If it truly came to a fight to the death, the allied forces would also pay a heavy price.
If the Lich King Ner'zhul had listened to him and spread the Plague recklessly, turning the local Mammoth-folk, Frost Trolls, and Furbolgs into undead troops, they could have amassed at least a million undead soldiers. Facing the Alliance, they wouldn't have been completely defenseless.
Unfortunately, all of this was rejected, leading to the current situation. Arthas was able to carry out a Decapitation Strike in the face of an Iron-clad Formation of five hundred thousand undead. This level of strength was no longer something conventional tactics could overcome. Losing to him was not unjust!
All schemes are useless in the face of absolute power. If the other side wants to kill you, they will. Only supremacy of might is the absolute truth.
Arthas was still watching from the airship. He had indeed considered killing Kel'Thuzad to avenge the people of Lordaeron. Ner'zhul was already dead; all forces of The Scourge should be held accountable. Simply killing them was the most merciful way. To truly get revenge, they should be made to work like Beasts of Burden for a lifetime!
Simply dying could not atone for the sins committed. How they destroyed things before, they should now rebuild them in the same way. Destroying things and then dying a simple death was too easy. After all, the undead don't need food or drink; they can labor until their bodies can no longer function and fall apart.
Facing over two hundred thousand undead troops, looking back at the vast, endless horde, the flesh-mangled, piled-up Abominations, the Frost Wyrms coiled in the sky whose wings cast a massive shadow, the countless Ghouls and Gargoyles. On the ground, there were also many Crypt Fiends, a fusion of spider and ant. The biting cold wind could not block the stench of rotting, putrid corpses, which was nauseating to smell.
Facing an undead army of such scale, even watching from a distance across the void, a fear that made one's legs tremble and want to flee first spread in one's heart. An individual's power was too insignificant, to the point where not a shred of courage to resist could be mustered.
Turning and running at this moment was not shameful. If one died, they would be resurrected and become a member of the undead forces, a losing proposition.
Illidan was not afraid. He was holding back a surge of ambition, wanting to prove that he too could become the leader of a faction, that he too could have an army to fight the Burning Legion. Being a vanguard under the Alliance was not his pursuit. He was unwilling to be subordinate to others; he would rather be the head of a chicken than the tail of a phoenix.
His demonic wings spread behind him, and he soared into the air, gliding over. In front of Tyrande, he could not lose face.
Crypt Lord Anub'arak had already regained consciousness. Freed from the Lich King's mental control, he now had free will. He could do whatever he wanted, no longer compelled by the Domination Magic to act against his inner resistance.
After a moment's thought, he decided to follow. Before leaving, he also asked the Elven Prince.
"He might be in danger going alone. Will you go with him?"
To be honest, the down-and-out Kael'thas also found it hard to accept the idea of going alone into the enemy camp. Having already entrusted his Blood Elven people to Arthas, with no more attachments, he decided to take a gamble. If he could make a name for himself, it would at least be worthy of his deceased father.
"Alright, I'll accompany him on this trip."
Facing Illidan who came alone, the undead army, receiving command signals, parted on both sides, as if lining up to welcome a new commander. However, looking at the hideous, ugly undead, one couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable and repulsed.
Especially as Illidan advanced, those undead stared at him with eyes that seemed about to fall out, following him all the way. It felt rather like being watched by eerie portraits in a Haunted House, a phenomenon also seen in the Ghost District of Gilneas City.
Seeing the undead part and line up, Illidan, who still had some gambling spirit, knew his bet had paid off. It seemed the undead commander also wanted to live. His coming here was the commander's only chance. Whether he could kill Illidan or not was uncertain, but regardless, the consequences would be very serious.
The outer ring consisted of low-tier Ghouls, serving both as soldiers and cheap Cannon Fodder Laborers, a perfect dual-purpose tool. Further in were higher-tier units like Crypt Fiends and Abominations. Deepest inside were some Blood Elves and Liches who had been resurrected after death into the Vampire Race.
When Elves are resurrected as undead, they are different from other undead. They become a special type of undead that drinks blood to maintain their appearance and prevent decay, which is also a kind of undead.
Gathered around him were Liches and Acolytes. The former were the main commanders, one of the few intelligent groups among the undead. Most were Mages in life, with some being Priests. They were important generals commanding the undead. Without the Liches, the undead legion would be nothing more than a giant punching bag.
Illidan ignored the undead drooling as they looked at him, their uncontrollable craving for living flesh and blood, their desire to devour living creatures entirely. They wouldn't digest what they ate; it was simply a primal urge to feed.
"Are you Kel'Thuzad?"
The Lich before him was still a skeleton frame filled with frosty, ghostly light, draped in a black Mage robe, a figure neither human nor ghost, looking utterly terrifying.
"Indeed, it is I. Lord Illidan, please state your purpose."
Perhaps he had guessed, but couldn't be sure. Bringing it up himself first in such matters was very demeaning. Unless the other party's strength was enough to crush them all, like Sargeras who could easily destroy Argus, then the negotiating positions of the two sides would not be on the same level, and naturally, there would be no so-called fairness.
"I am here to give you a chance to live. The Emperor of the Lordaeron Empire is watching you. The crimes you committed in Lordaeron are unforgivable. The Lich King has already been reduced to ashes. How long do you think you can last, even if you lead the undead army into battle?"
Illidan was now emboldened, especially sensing that Kael'thas and Anub'arak had also arrived. If a fight really broke out, he could successfully escape. Don't be fooled by him being a Demon Hunter; when dealing with mana-wielding units, especially Mages, he could truly be called a professional hunter.
One cast of Mana Burn, and even though a Lich feels no pain, the disrupted mana would prevent them from successfully casting a single spell, and they might even suffer from Spell Backlash.
Seeing his former companion, now a stranger. Kel'Thuzad knew the tide had turned. Even Anub'arak, the Lich King's most loyal top henchman, had betrayed him. The glorious era of the undead was ending, and he was the key figure pulling down the final curtain.
The blue flames within the skeleton's eye sockets flared and burned intensely. This was a natural change from his rapid thinking, similar to the function of eye expressions.
I must thank His Majesty Arthas for his benevolence, allowing me to linger until today. I am willing to offer up the treasures and secrets of the Lich King's hand in exchange for my life. As a sinner, I am willing to be placed under surveillance. However, compared to the wasteful expenditure of time and effort required to imprison someone like me, I believe it would be more effective to have me serve as a vanguard, campaigning against other powers on behalf of the Lordaeron Empire.
The undead, being tireless, are the finest tools. It is highly unlikely these undead will develop free will. Without restraint, they would simply become mindless monsters, wandering and destroying everything. This would be of no help to the grand scheme at all. Lord Illidan, please relay my words to His Majesty.
Kel'Thuzad's courage to resist was gradually fading. Having never risen up in rebellion from the start, now entering a negotiation phase, the loss of courage would only intensify. In his mind, this act of surrender was not shameful; he possessed no sense of shame or honor. What is dignity?
If he truly had dignity and honor, he would not have gone from being an Archmage of Dalaran to Northrend to pledge allegiance to the Lich King, all in pursuit of so-called forbidden knowledge and immortality. Having now achieved his goal, the next step was to prolong his life and gather more materials to complete forbidden experiments!
Want to stay alive? As long as a lich's Phylactery remains intact, it can be resurrected even after death, with no reduction in power. Were it not for the stringent conditions required to become a lich, it could almost be considered invincible.
Like most undead, a lich's power is fixed, related to the materials used during its transformation. If revived using an ultra-powerful energy source like the Sunwell or the Nightwell, its power would transform to an astonishing degree.
The current Kel'Thuzad was merely revived using a small vial of Sunwell water. Had it not been for Ner'zhul's favor, he likely would have been hastily revived with a few magic crystals. Although he is the most powerful among liches, he still falls slightly short of his peak.
Even now, facing Illidan, he cannot win. He can barely hold his own against Kael'thas; maintaining an even footing is the best he can hope for. To think of defeating his opponent feels like a fool's dream.
Just as Illidan was unsure how to respond, Tyrande's telepathic voice sounded in his ear. The voice of his childhood sweetheart, whom he secretly loved, sent his mind reeling in a daze. The young priestess of the past was now a mother to a daughter, the High Priestess of the Sisterhood, and the Queen of Lordaeron.
He says he permits you to recruit Kel'Thuzad, but on one condition: you must attack a location and seize its energy source. Use this lich to the absolute limit, work him to death. Never let him serve in an advisory role; treat him like livestock, until he is utterly annihilated.
The meaning was clear: make Kel'Thuzad's life a living torment, worse than death. This wasn't about forcing an outright rebellion, but about giving a tiny morsel—a task akin to slaying Yogg-Saron for the price of ten gold coins.
The reward is utterly disproportionate to the effort, constantly escalating the difficulty, making him understand that Azeroth is not a harmonious environment where grievances are forgotten with a smile, but a place of vengeance, an eye for an eye.
Illidan's mind began to scheme, his thoughts aligning perfectly with this plan. He had asked Grommash of the Warsong Clan, who said Outland was already desolate. Especially after Ner'zhul's reckless opening of portals caused massive energy turbulence that tore Draenor apart, it had become a barren, desolate planet.
Perhaps it shouldn't even be called a planet, as its self-sustaining cycle was broken. It was merely several massive landmasses forcibly held together. Over time, this fragile balance would inevitably shatter, and the entire continent would become lifeless.
Establishing a new power in such a harsh environment would inevitably come at a heavy cost. And The Scourge was an excellent choice.
"Agreed. His Majesty Arthas pardons your crimes. However, while the death penalty is waived, living punishment is not. You must prove your repentance through action. Are you prepared?"
It was rare for Illidan to inquire so harmoniously. The more harmonious he seemed, the more it proved the immense difficulties and dangers that lay ahead.
"I will exert my utmost effort to carry out His Majesty's command."
Kel'Thuzad was also an old fox; The Scourge under his control was his bargaining chip. Just as he was feeling smug, Illidan's next words shattered his beautiful dream.
"In that case, hand over your Phylactery, lich."
The Phylactery is a lich's life. Destroy it, and the lich dies. To kill a lich, one must find its Phylactery. Cunning liches often hide their phylacteries in unexpected places, even within ordinary citizens' homes, disguised as a common brick.
Seeing the other's hesitation, Illidan unabashedly summoned Fel flames, the piercing cold brought by the howling wind instantly dispelled. The gift of Fel Energy was particularly effective at suppressing necromantic power.
"Of course. Please wait a moment, Lord. Someone will deliver it shortly."
Kel'Thuzad hesitated only briefly before agreeing. A cunning lich never worries about being controlled. As long as he enters the game of wits, he has plenty of ways to retrieve his Phylactery from the other's grasp.
Arthas had already left, having no interest in watching the game between the two. According to his plan, this force would be deployed to Outland to fight the Burning Legion, diverting their attention.
He, meanwhile, turned his gaze to Azeroth, to mend its new wounds and complete the tasks given by the system. Once the world soul awakens and is born, Azeroth would become a brand new, invincible fortress, completely eliminating any worries about the rear.
Now there were two choices. One was to wait for the world soul to awaken—a path so long its end was unforeseeable. The second was to strive personally to reach a true god-like level, powerful enough to rival Sargeras. That would also allow plans for the counterattack on Argus to begin.
The airship flew towards the Wrath Gate. Along the way, the preliminary outlines of massive fortresses were already visible. These foundations were what the future Second Lich King would later reinforce into fortresses. Now, starting from scratch, they naturally lacked the grand scale of later eras.
The Soul Forge was underground, and their guide was none other than Anub'arak, who had regained his free will. While Illidan and Kel'Thuzad were negotiating, he was also in dialogue with Arthas.
They struck a deal. Arthas allowed him to lead the remaining undead from the fallen spider-folk empire of Azjol-Nerub as a personal guard and depart, promising to help the Nerubians restore and continue their kingdom.
The Nerubians were similar to the Mantid, yet lacked the Mantid's fanaticism to strive for the will of the Old Gods. Even when faced with Yogg-Saron's call, they remained unmoved, with no intention of fulfilling a servant's duty.
In exchange, Anub'arak would lead them to the Soul Forge. It was said construction began not long after the Lich King's arrival, overseen not by the Lich King himself, but by the three Dreadlords assigned to monitor him.
This explained why the Dreadlords had been slacking off. They had agreed to build Icecrown Citadel for the Lich King, but the result was merely a single layer of a frozen domed vault. While solid ice was indeed difficult for mortals to overcome, any mage with even a bit of ability could quickly melt it, warriors could shatter it with brute force, and shamans could communicate with the elements to dismantle it.
The underground entrance to the Soul Forge was located outside the constructed city walls, beneath a frozen ocean, using the backflowing seawater as cover.
One needed to submerge from the seabed—a simple deceptive tactic that ensured many would never think an underground entrance existed here.
Scouts wouldn't dive into the frozen ocean for no reason. With temperatures at thirty-four degrees below zero, just enduring the air was impressive enough. Going into the water at such a time would be truly suicidal.
Going into the water wasn't the scary part; in fact, it could be warmer. After all, seawater that hadn't frozen stayed around zero degrees. However, the transition of going in and coming back out would freeze a person into a popsicle.
"Your Majesty, the entrance to the Soul Forge is directly below. There are many Scourge forces guarding the perimeter. I can go in and eliminate them. Please wait a moment, Your Majesty."
Anubarak finished speaking but did not move, waiting for approval instead. He was currently a criminal serving a sentence; what he wanted to do was not for him to decide. He could offer suggestions, but he had to constantly remember his status.
"Approved. Go."
Arthas waved his hand.
The Crypt Lord bowed with human-like submission before diving into the bone-chillingly cold seawater. His undead body felt no sensation or pain, so the cold had little impact on him as long as he didn't freeze solid.
Sylvanas tightened her cloak. This time, she wore an extra layer of magical dragon-hide light armor, which ensured she remained light and agile while providing windproof and warming effects.
"Can that fellow be trusted?"
She remained skeptical regarding the Crypt Lord's surrender. Aside from the Forsaken who had been Blood Elves, she wouldn't trust any undead. After learning from her husband about the timeline where she became the Banshee Queen, she felt a strong repulsion toward the undead.
The Blood Elves were former compatriots, and many had evolved from the Windrunner Family's military. With the support of old sentiments, they could still be trusted. As for other undead, sorry, she really wasn't familiar with them.
"He can. In his heart, he has always wanted to make amends to the Nerubian kingdom for the mistakes he once made. Undead controlled by the Lich King, even if they know what they are doing and resist internally, are still unable to rebel and are forced to carry out orders."
"The undead will either be eliminated or thrown into Outland. They won't live on Azeroth; it's the perfect way to give the Burning Legion something to do."
"Besides, whether he is sincere or not isn't important, as long as he completes the task. The Lich King is already dead, turned to dust, his soul no longer existing. Once the underground Soul Forge is destroyed, the matters in Northrend can be temporarily concluded. Next, we will enter a phase of comprehensive recovery, only initiating partial hostilities."
Arthas also felt a sense of relief; he could finally get some proper rest. There was still much to do to protect Azeroth, far too much to handle at once.
After experiencing this event, he needed to rest well. Furthermore, as an emperor, he couldn't slack off; he needed to prioritize the propagation of his lineage.
Tyrande had already given birth to a lovely daughter, Shandris, and Queen Azshara was already pregnant.
Currently, his childhood friend Jaina was not yet pregnant, and the valiant Sylvanas was not yet pregnant either; the road ahead was long and difficult.
While he spoke of matters concerning the country and the people, Sylvanas knew her husband too well. He wasn't the type to be single-mindedly selfless. This guy had plenty of schemes in his head; otherwise, why would he have five, six, seven, or eight wives while others only had one?
"You aren't planning to do something bad, are you?"
A hint of suspicion flashed across her exquisite face, and a smile curled at the corners of her mouth. That playful expression and those delicate red lips made one very much want to kiss them.
"Yes, to have you bear me eight or ten children, so that one day we'll have a house full of descendants!"
Arthas grinned mischievously. With the crisis temporarily resolved, the remaining tasks required meticulous work and couldn't be rushed, so he had to find something to do.
Unexpectedly, Sylvanas's elegant brows arched slightly as she turned her head away, a blush rising to her cheeks, making her incomparably beautiful.
"That's the reward. So, what's the punishment?"
What the hell kind of reward was that! This counts as a reward?
Fine, fine. Who knew the usually cold Queen Sylvanas had also learned to be sly.
Beside them, Alexstrasza rolled her eyes as she listened. This was indeed a reward. Her title was the Life-Binder; what she loved most was new life and maintaining the order of life—not over-exploiting, nor letting it wither excessively, but existing in balance.
She was very fond of the idea of giving birth to babies. If it weren't for the fact that she could only conceive with Arthas, she wouldn't have followed him. It was as if she had been fitted with a private lock, reserved for private use, with even her autonomy stripped away.
"Alexstrasza, have you all found the Dragon Isles yet?"
Arthas, having nothing better to do, simply asked for news on this front. He wasn't particularly familiar with the Dragon Isles, only knowing there was an extra frost dragon girl. Although Azeroth was a magical place where different races could reproduce together—Grove Wardens and a bunch of rocks could somehow produce Centaurs, which was very strange.
But when it came to being ruthless, there were those even more ruthless than him. They wouldn't spare the undead, nor would they spare robots. They were more 'intense' than any stereotype; please stop your 'intense' behavior.
The Red Dragon Queen shook her head, a melancholy look appearing in her eyes. After losing the power of the Guardians, their era had come to an end.
They were powerful now, true, but compared to before, it was a world of difference. If they could return to the past, that would be a very good thing.
"The Dragon Isles hold the Oathstones, devices we used to communicate with the Titans, but they cannot be found now. Even if they could be found, according to what you said about the Pantheon being destroyed, I fear they could not help us."
Regarding the Dragonflight era, he didn't know much either, as he hadn't played through it. He only knew the dragons were split into two factions: the Primalists, who were infused with elements, and the Order-aligned ones, who had accepted the Titans' blessings and modifications.
The final outcome was the Guardians helping to accelerate the awakening of the World Tree, which supported the world soul. Through this, the world soul provided power back to the dragons who had lost their Guardian powers, bringing them under her own faction.
To help the world soul, or to help the Titans—that was the question. Since they had nothing left but still held significant sway on the continent, this was the perfect opportunity to recruit them.
"It's fine. The day will come when they are found. Just keep working with me. If there's a chance, I'll recommend you to the world soul. She is a being like the Titans—no, she is infinitely more powerful than the Titans. On the day she awakens, even ten Sargeras added together wouldn't be her match."
"Don't worry, I won't lie to you. We can 'review' again when we have the chance; Asathaz is always waiting for your command!"
Arthas put his arm around her shoulder, whispering the last sentence so softly that only the two of them could hear. This was their unique secret; even Jaina and the others didn't know about this past.
She hadn't told Ysera either. Perhaps only the Black Dragon Aspect Sinestra had guessed, and she wasn't the gossiping type. Even if it were true, she wouldn't speak ill of her master behind his back.
Alexstrasza showed her small canine teeth in slight annoyance, her eyes filled with a trace of bashful irritation. Her heart inexplicably beat a few times faster. It should have been like this long ago; saying it now wasn't too late, she supposed.
Before long, Anubarak emerged again, his front claws resting on the ice.
"Your Majesty, the Soul Forge has been cleared. My former subordinates were inside, so the speed of the purge was quite fast."
This time, he had dug out a new entrance, so there was no need to enter the frozen ocean again. This kind of efficiency was something only Nerubians could achieve; even the Mantid and Aquir would fall slightly short.
"Let's go. We'll go down and take a look."
Arthas jumped down first, using the side walls to buffer his fall, and soon reached the underground tunnel.
It was very spacious here, with the tunnel height being about seven meters, presumably to facilitate the transport of materials. But with the entrance under the frozen ocean, how were the materials transported?
Forget it, no use thinking about such questions.
Soon, Sylvanas and the others came down as well. Even without relying on magic, Sylvanas's strength allowed her to descend easily.
However, with mages by her side, there was no need for her to do such things personally.
Passing through a hundred-meter-long tunnel, a deep pit suddenly appeared ahead. The tunnel connected to a pit a hundred meters deep, with massive gear machinery arranged below, each five or six meters in diameter. Interlocking with each other, they formed a complex, giant machine, with an engine-like device at the very center.
Looking at the shocking scene before them, who could say the Dreadlords were slacking off? They were clearly following their master's instructions to build machinery. This mechanical device connected to the core of the earth; once activated, it could continuously siphon power from the place where the world soul was imprisoned.
As for where it was being transmitted? Looking at the magic circle above, filled with profound runes, it was likely related to that artificial Shadowlands.
Why call it an artificial Shadowlands? One would have to ask the Titans of the Pantheon about that.
"What is this?"
Sylvanas didn't understand. Having had no contact with The Jailer, she knew nothing of the Shadowlands. Moreover, this device seemed to be related to extraction, but as for how it operated, she was entirely ignorant.
"This is a device for siphoning the power of the world soul, and it's also used to extract resources from the earth's core. By continuously draining energy from the core, the originally stable land would frequently collide, resulting in volcanic eruptions, tsunamis, and earthquakes."
"The Dreadlords who monitored the Lich King were sent by the Burning Legion, but they have another identity: they are undercover agents for someone in the Shadowlands. Specifically, they should be creations of the King of the Venthyr, primarily responsible for infiltrating various major factions as spies, transmitting intelligence while misleading the factions they serve."
"It's true for the Burning Legion, and it's true for the Army of the Light; do not believe a single word they say. Their structure is similar to a lich, possessing a source phylactery. As long as the phylactery isn't destroyed, they can return from the dead."
Arthas knew this all too well, because damn it, you couldn't fly in The Maw! The designers probably wanted to be cursed out.
Sylvanas turned her head, her sapphire eyes filling with suspicion.
"You certainly seem to know a lot."
Arthas pulled her by the waist, tilting his chin up quite proudly.
"Of course. Otherwise, how could I be your husband!"
"Hmph, whether you have this ability or not, you're still my husband."
Sylvanas raised her head pridefully. She didn't speak words of love, but the emotions she unintentionally revealed proved she was becoming increasingly infatuated with this lover of hers.
When she first got together with him, Arthas was just an ordinary Human Prince. He was still in his evaluation period, but later he gradually grew stronger; every step and every detail had been witnessed by her.
When the situation in Lordaeron was still deteriorating, he was willing to lead an army to support QuelThalas for her sake. Bravely fighting high-level demons in Silvermoon City wasn't just a matter of courage. Considering the positions of both sides, it wasn't just personal; it involved the interests of the kingdoms.
This made it even more precious. It was because of this that she was willing to become the mate of a human. Most Blood Elves only choose one mate; if the mate dies, they generally won't look for another.
A lifespan of three to five thousand years compared to a human's century was far too long. Choosing a human as a mate meant being destined to endure centuries or millennia of loneliness.
Despite this, she had done so without hesitation. In her view, there were no regrets. Didn't Arthas's current achievements also prove her unique foresight?
The Red Dragon Queen turned her head away somewhat helplessly; they really had to flaunt their affection everywhere. She pointed at the massive machine ahead, deliberately changing the subject.
"Arthas, do you want to dismantle this device?"
"This device is enormous and is connected to this pit. If anything goes wrong, this place will collapse. You have to think this through carefully."
With her vision, she could naturally spot the problem. From the start of construction, this point had likely been considered; to prevent it from being used, a unique self-destruct mechanism had been set up.
This self-destruction would bury the intruders along with it. If it blew up, it would take the intruders with it. The Dreadlords' intentions were indeed malicious, leaving no room for error.
"Let the Mantid handle it. They've bred a type of insect specifically for eating metal. They can slowly gnaw away the metal here."
"What we need to do is destroy the runic magic circle here and render the engine completely useless."
"Ladies, use your imagination and see what way of handling this would be most appropriate."
Jandice began to think seriously. If Arcane energy was used for destruction, it would instead be absorbed by that magic circle. That meant Arcane magic couldn't be used; some other energy was needed. Perhaps some gunpowder explosives would work?
However, doing that would blow up the entire pit. Whether it could be completely destroyed was one thing, but it would instead leave behind future troubles.
Everyone was racking their brains, occasionally knitting their brows, or flying over to investigate. How could they know how to destroy it without looking?
Only Ysera remained unmoved; she had just come along to watch the show. Green Dragons were naturally prone to sleepiness, and it was already past her bedtime. Her red lips parted slightly as an uncontrollable drowsiness began to wash over her.
"I don't think it needs to be that complicated. Just use the simple method: dismantle it piece by piece and transport it away through a portal. Finally, use magic to detonate this place and destroy it completely."