Leaving the task of "backstabbing" to Illidan, who was already well-versed in such maneuvers, Andreas looked around, attempting to grasp the overall situation.
With long-range fire support from Tyrande, Rhonin, and Krasus, Malfurion and Broxigar charged recklessly into the demon ranks, reaping lives with abandon. Although Andreas's presence in their group would have increased the efficiency of slaughtering demons, he remained calm, keeping the strike team's true objective in mind—the infiltration of the palace.
He looked up at the sky, where three Fel warships were still frantically pouring down fire. Facing these all-metal cosmic vessels for the first time, the dragons were clearly struggling to adapt; from Andreas's perspective, their attack patterns were highly inefficient.
"Rhonin, can you find a way to amplify my voice? At least enough so the dragons up there can hear me."
"I can. What are you planning?"
"Don't ask yet. Just do it."
"Alright... Done."
Receiving the signal from Rhonin, Andreas gave a tentative cough. His voice, captured and magnified by Arcane magic, echoed clearly across the sky within a certain range.
"Allies of the Dragonflight, can you hear my voice?"
The dragons, who had been circling the Fel warships in a state of frantic confusion, all turned their gazes toward him. The largest green dragon in the lead spoke a few words to his kin before descending to hover not far in front of Andreas, flapping his massive wings.
"Mortal, I am Eranikus of the Green Dragonflight. Speak quickly; we must destroy these dangerous metal boxes as soon as possible."
Eranikus?
A flash of realization went through Andreas's mind. This green dragon, whose frame was a size larger than his kin, was the primary consort of Ysera, the Dreamer, and a renowned general of the Green Dragonflight.
"Greetings, esteemed Eranikus. I am the Druid Andreas Moonshadow." Andreas bowed politely. He wasted no time on pleasantries and continued as Eranikus nodded, "To put it simply, the Dragonflight's method of attacking the Fel warships is flawed."
Eranikus frowned in displeasure. As a proud dragon, he was somewhat irked by the blunt criticism from a mere mortal. "Then tell me, what exactly is the problem?"
Andreas ignored the dragon's ego and pointed toward the warships still raining fire from the sky. "These vessels are likely used by the Burning Legion to transport troops across the cosmos. Your attacks on the outer armor are unlikely to have much effect."
Common sense dictated that for a ship intended to navigate a universe filled with asteroid belts, the armor strength had to be immense.
"I suggest the Dragonflight focuses first on destroying the enemy's weaponry. Start with the anti-aircraft batteries; those small cannons threaten your safety. Once they are taken out, you will have the time to attack the main cannons at your leisure. Once all weapon systems are destroyed, these three ships will be nothing more than giant coffins floating in the sky, and you can do with them as you please."
The Dragonflight was not stupid. It wasn't that they didn't understand the importance of disarming the enemy, but encountering such seemingly unmanned weaponry for the first time made a period of disorientation natural.
"Warships..." Eranikus mused. "So you're saying there are crew members piloting them from the inside?"
"Precisely. We just don't know where the control rooms are located within the hulls."
"I understand." Eranikus flapped his wings powerfully, preparing to ascend again. "Thank you for the advice, Andreas Moonshadow. If this mission succeeds, I will mention your contribution to Her Majesty after the war."
Under Eranikus's command, the Dragonflight adopted a clearer tactical approach. Within a mere half-hour, they had turned the three Fel warships into floating coffins. Without the suppression from aerial fire, the resistance forces fought with renewed vigor, seemingly on the verge of breaking through the demon lines and storming the city.
"Got it!"
Joyous news arrived from Illidan's position at that very moment. The Demon Hunter was drenched in blood—the enemy's blood—as he held a small golden disc high with his left hand.
Andreas, who should have been celebrating, suddenly had a drastic change in expression. "Illidan, behind you!"
Though he didn't know exactly what Andreas was referring to, the sightless Demon Hunter's other senses were far sharper than those of a normal person. Sensing a sudden, bone-chilling killing intent from behind, Illidan performed a wide-range side-roll while clutching the Dragon Soul without a second thought.
Roar!
Ultra-high-temperature Shadowflame scorched the ground where Illidan had just stood into a charred mess, with some parts even showing signs of crystallization. Illidan, who had been grazed by the edge of the blast, hurriedly activated the Fel runes on his body to quickly extinguish the burning Shadowflame.
"Dragon breath? Has a dragon betrayed us?"
Andreas looked solemnly at the black dragon that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He gave Illidan a self-mocking smile. "Technically, that's correct, but he didn't just recently betray us."
Having leaped back to Andreas's side, Illidan also saw the black dragon staring at him with fire-spitting eyes. "The Earth-Warder, Neltharion?"
Neltharion's eyes were bloodshot. His body, only crudely held together, prevented him from moving freely; this was likely why he had been lurking near the Well of Eternity waiting for an opportunity.
"Shameful thief! I will give you one last chance. Hand over the Dragon Soul, and I may spare your life."
The defiant Illidan was not one to accept such threats. He gave a cold laugh and tossed the Dragon Soul up and down slightly; every movement of the golden disc drew Neltharion's gaze.
"You want it? Come and take it yourself."
"I'll take it from your cold dead hands then!!"
Neltharion had originally hoped to use his intimidation to force compliance, but seeing that it was ineffective, he no longer cared about the tearing pain in his body. In his eyes, there was only the Dragon Soul. Only that artifact could grant him the power to sweep across the world.
Inhale~
Taking a deep breath, Neltharion prepared to unleash a massive blast of dragon breath. Given his poor physical condition, this was currently his most suitable method of attack.
The expressions of Illidan and Andreas changed simultaneously. Malfurion, Dath'Remar, and the others, sensing danger, quickly disengaged from their enemies and retreated.
Tyrande frowned and asked, "What do we do now? Trigger the power of the Dragon Soul to repel this mad dragon? Who is willing to make that sacrifice?"
Andreas gave Tyrande a strange look. "Sacrifice? What are you talking about? Who said using the Dragon Soul requires a sacrifice?"
"Huh?" Tyrande blanked for a moment.
Malfurion took over the question, puzzled. "But, didn't Neltharion's body fracture because he used the Dragon Soul?"
Andreas rolled his eyes, snatched the Dragon Soul from Illidan's hand, and aimed it at Neltharion. "That was only because Neltharion, that overconfident fool, tried to absorb the power of the Dragon Soul into his own body to claim it as his own. I only need to release it..."
"NEL-THA-RION!!"
A violent roar filled with hatred echoed from the distant sky. A massive blue dragon, covered in scars, charged toward them with eyes full of madness. His gaze was locked firmly onto Neltharion.
"Give me back Sindragosa's life! Give me back the lives of my kin! I will have blood for blood!"
As Neltharion was gathering his massive breath, four Arcane cubes suddenly appeared around his body. Each cube released energy and connected to the others, trapping Neltharion in a prison of pure energy.
"DIE!"
The truly maddened Blue Aspect used only this one spell before his massive body flashed into the prison, his thick tail slamming mercilessly into Neltharion's face.
Roar!
The breath Neltharion was gathering was interrupted and forced back, causing an immediate backlash. His body, which had been roughly fixed by the Drogbar, began to crack from the inside once again.
The agonizing roar reached the heavens. Two gargantuan dragons were entangled in the narrow Arcane prison, locked in a brutal melee where they traded blows, each alternating between attacker and defender.
Andreas and the others stood with their mouths agape, watching the sky. The grand spectacle unfolding before them was almost too much to take in at once.
Andreas, staring blankly while holding the Dragon Soul, tilted his head. "...The Spell-Weaver, Malygos?"