"Oh, are you interested in the female councilors?" Deathwing wasn't offended. To him, even if his son-in-law wanted to find a mistress, so be it.
A man lacking in ability can't even keep one wife; capable men can have dozens, even hundreds, and as long as they can handle it without getting drained, it's fine.
Arthas shook his head with a ghostly smile, "Do you think they would agree?"
"No." Deathwing knew these races too well; he had studied many of them. He had mingled with almost all races across Azeroth, and even the gnolls and worgen to find competent subordinates. High elves were definitely among them; he had eyes on them, but they weren't suitable for manipulation and had little potential or value to exploit. Simply put, their cost-performance ratio wasn't high.
They looked down their noses on other races, arrogant beyond measure—it was truly laughable. In fact, high elves were infamous for their slowness, especially those in the mage profession; they didn't just look down on others with their nostrils, they did so with their toes, incredibly arrogant, as if they were the only noble beings and everyone else was trash.
"There's a saying among us humans: if you want to open a window in a shut in's room, they definitely won't agree. But if you propose to tear down the room and flip the ceiling, they might agree to your opening a window." Arthas smiled brilliantly.
"Good heavens," Deathwing exclaimed. Azeroth didn't have the Art of War; this high-level strategy applied to any field—interpersonal communication, business negotiations, territorial expansion, etc.
"Very good, hehe, you can find a mage named Dar'Khan Drathir; he's quite dissatisfied with the Silvermoon Council. His ambition is too great; he's a pawn, and you know how to use him."
"Got it, a dog that will bite for good benefits; that's the kind of dog I need." Arthas certainly wouldn't regard the other as a confidant; this kind of scum was nothing more than cannon fodder, a decent mad dog.
The two discussed some insights and strangely felt like they were getting along better. Neither Arthas nor Deathwing were good people, nor were they people of elevated character; they were self-centered individuals. As long as they got what they wanted, they felt no guilt, no matter if it meant others would die—why feel guilty about it?
"I know what you're concerned about; Malygos is also worried. Hehe, barring any accidents, I may spend the second half of my life at the Nexus." Deathwing suddenly changed the subject; he wouldn't make any guarantees—those were pointless, really, what was the meaning?
"Do you think Malygos will go insane?" Arthas changed the subject as well. Their conversation jumped around quickly; anyone without a strong heart would have a hard time keeping up.
"He's already gone mad." Deathwing mocked, "By the way, don't trust Sindragosa; she's a female lunatic."
Arthas touched his nose, "Who is she? Is she pretty?"
Deathwing suddenly smiled playfully, Arthas did not quite know what that meant, "If you have the ability, you can also bed her. Your Highness, today's conversation has been very pleasant; let's continue talking at the Nexus sometime."
The four Dragon Aspects had arrived, clearly not giving them a chance to continue their conversation. Malygos began casting a spell; with his abilities, it would take a bit of time to teleport everyone to the Nexus. The spellcaster was strong, but laws of magic still needed to be followed.
Two seconds later, Arthas held onto Alleria's small hand, and they appeared together inside a tall, ancient circular building, somewhat reminiscent of ancient Roman architecture, filled with a great deal of marble and arches. Outside, it was icy and snowy, and they could see various colored dragons flying—this was the Nexus!
A blue dragon over ten meters long flew into the Nexus, and after a flash of light, it transformed into a high elf woman, dressed in revealing bikini armor; it seemed that most female dragons preferred this look, cool and breathable. "Greetings, Your Majesty, greetings, Your Majesties."
"Arthas, this is Tarecgosa; she will serve as the ambassador of the Blue Dragonflight stationed in your territory. From the teleport nearby, she can take you back to the Eastern Kingdoms; you may leave now." Malygos didn't want to talk much with Arthas; the fact that he said so much was already quite good.
"Thank you, I hope you maintain this status. Don't go insane; I don't wish to one day unite all dragons against you." Arthas seriously nodded.
"Oh, you think I would end up like him?" Malygos sneered, his tone full of sarcasm.
"I've said it before, fate isn't trustworthy. Only the weak believe in fate; the strong defy it. Do as you wish; I hope we won't become rivals in the future." Arthas wasn't worried about the other party making a lethal move; dealing with these Dragon Aspects required a bit of mysticism, which was actually more marketable.
Malygos fell silent, glancing at Nozdormu, but received no reply. "That day will never come; Norgannon granted me the title and honor of the Steward of Magic, and I will uphold my responsibility."
"To recover magic, prohibiting other races from using it, and then causing Azeroth to collapse?" Arthas burst into laughter, pulling Alleria into the teleport. As for Onyxia, she needed to stay to deal with matters related to the Black Dragonflight; with a new king ascending, there were many things to do; she had to reorganize the Black Dragonflight, purging the corrupted from the ranks, and she also had the duty to guard the dragons waiting for her, making life not easy.
"Nozdormu, you've seen my future, right?" Malygos asked his friend.
"Yes." Nozdormu's response was very simple.
"Hmph, I will not become the enemy of the entire world." Malygos firmly replied, he would never become a public enemy like Deathwing! Absolutely not! He must wait, wait for the resurrection of his wife.
"Hey, that teleport doesn't seem right."
"It's just a random teleport, definitely in the human kingdom; nothing will go wrong." Malygos smiled slyly, clearly with ulterior motives, it was just a prank.