With the warning Andreas had given before they set out, Huln reacted faster than Igrul. He said with a look of realization, "I see. So that is why you asked if I was willing to give my life for my people."
Huln gave a thumbs-up without hesitation and said heroically, "My answer remains the same. I am willing to give everything for the Highmountain tribes. Leave the Holy Hammer to me."
Andreas gazed deeply at Huln for a long moment before nodding in agreement. He then turned his gaze to Igrul, who looked as if he wanted to say something.
"Chieftain Igrul, please activate the sealing trial. We must hurry and strike before Neltharion notices anything is wrong."
Igrul bit his lip, his expression complex. "I understand. Let's begin."
Under Igrul's practiced operation, the barrier surrounding the Hammer of Khaz'goroth deepened in color, and several small golden energy vortices appeared within the cavern.
Watching the Constellars gradually emerge from the vortices, Igrul gripped his twin axes and shouted a warning, "It's starting! Focus! These guardians are not easy to deal with!"
No one knew where the Constellars came from. Their bodies seemed composed of energy poured from countless miniature stars—a structure of pure energy. The two leading Constellars each held a large blade; once within range, they raised their weapons simultaneously and swung at Huln, who stood at the front.
Clang!
Huln parried the attacks of both Constellars with a single hand using the Spear of the Eagle. The muscles in his thick right arm bulged, appearing to be under considerable strain. Having blocked the first strike, Huln gained a rough understanding of the Constellars' attack power.
Exerting force to deflect their blades, Huln's spear moved with an agile speed that belied his massive Tauren frame, slicing across the chests of both Constellars in quick succession. His attack left long gashes on their energy bodies, but the wounds were rapidly repaired.
"Pure physical attacks are useless."
Igrul's twin axes glowed with a faint earthy light. Using the earth-burrowing talent inherent to the Drogbar, he surged behind the two Constellars. Both axes slammed into the back of the one on the left; this time, the axes infused with earth elements caused a wound that was difficult to mend. Following up on his success, Igrul swung his axes like the wind, a frenzied dual-wielding flurry that completely dissipated the wounded Constellar.
By now, however, more Constellars were pouring out of the golden portals. Some held bows, others daggers and staves—they resembled a well-organized small army.
A hazy white light lit up the tip of Huln's Spear of the Eagle. He swung the spear in a fluid motion, killing the foremost Constellars while beckoning the elite Tauren warriors behind him to join the fray.
"For the Earth Mother!"
Bolstered by Rage, the Tauren warriors charged bravely into the enemy ranks. Though outnumbered, their sturdy physiques and wide bodies blocked the Constellars' path effectively, providing Andreas in the back row with the perfect space to deal damage.
"Hey now... do you all see me as just a pure spellcaster?"
Scratching his head helplessly, Andreas channeled mana into the Staff of G'Hanir. The Tears of Elune at the staff's tip flickered with a faint light. After a few seconds of preparation, a small black sphere that absorbed light appeared in the center of the Constellar formation.
"Collapsing Star!"
The spinning black sphere forcefully dragged nearby Constellars toward it, followed by an energy explosion that annihilated a dozen or so of them.
As Igrul had mentioned before, there were exactly one hundred Constellars guarding the seal, and those killed during a single trial would not respawn. While Igrul himself possessed remarkable combat strength, after years of enslavement by the Black Dragon, he couldn't find enough subordinates who possessed both courage and skill. For years, he had been unable to break through this trial.
But the Highmountain Tauren were different. Having survived the brutal War of the Ancients, these veteran soldiers were the elite of the elite, lacking neither courage nor strength. Under High Chieftain Huln's lead, thirty-odd Tauren warriors held the line against the Constellars' onslaught, allowing Andreas to cast spells freely from the rear.
While these mindless Constellars were immune to the mental corruption effects of Shadow power, after five years of refinement, Andreas had developed many direct-damage Shadow spells.
"Guillotine."
A black executioner's blade made of pure energy appeared above the battlefield, its sharp scythe severing the bodies of multiple Constellars at once.
"Shadow Claw."
Andreas extended his left hand, controlling an enlarged black claw that rampaged through the Constellar ranks. Andreas enjoyed the battle; the Tauren's constitution was incredibly durable, making them one of the best front-line tanks in Azeroth.
A few Constellars vanished into the shadows, attempting to jump to the back row, but as an expert in Shadow magic, Andreas was naturally prepared for stealth. The encroaching Constellars were caught by Shadow Vines hidden underground and hoisted high; their pure energy bodies were easier to drain than physical flesh, and they were soon reduced to a mist of Arcane particles.
As the battle ended, Igrul, his chest heaving, looked on in shock. He hadn't expected the trial to be passed so easily; the Tauren warriors hadn't even taken much damage.
While he was dazed, Huln had already returned the Spear of the Eagle to his back and strode toward the unsealed Hammer of Khaz'goroth. Reaching out to grip the handle without hesitation, Huln gave it a test swing. Even in its current unactivated state, the hammer left deep trails of energy in the air.
Huln said in a deep voice, "I can feel the immense energy within the Holy Hammer. I see... to fully activate its true power indeed requires a vast amount of energy, perhaps even life force."
"Let's go." Huln looked firmly at the conflicted Igrul. "To fulfill my destiny and drive out Neltharion."
Andreas paused, then sighed with a touch of melancholy. Destiny... is it?
...
"Roar!"
A Drogbar had struck the armor plating with too much force. The Black Dragon, enduring unbearable pain, let out a howl toward the sky, followed by a blast of Shadowflame breath that vaporized a small group of nearby Drogbar.
"Slaves! Watch your movements! One more mistake, and I will double your punishment!"
Since the end of the War of the Ancients, Neltharion's body remained broken, but at least the whispers of the Old Gods had temporarily receded. The corrupted Black Dragon Aspect was actually in a better mental state than during the war; he was lucid, but extremely irritable. Unable to find suitable materials, he had compromised by using Thorium plates—the most effective material found so far.
But having spikes driven into one's body was never pleasant. Amidst the pain, Neltharion vented his rage by slaughtering his Drogbar slaves; for every pulse of pain, he would vaporize at least ten of them.
Turning his massive head to scan the area, a look of suspicion flashed in Neltharion's eyes. "Where is Igrul? Where is your puny leader? Don't tell me he is plotting another rebellion!"
"I am right here."
Igrul walked calmly into the cavern from the outside. In his hand, he carried the severed head of a Dragonman whose eyes were still wide with shock. Behind him followed the Tauren warriors led by Andreas and Huln.
Thud!
He tossed the bloody head of the Dragonman before Neltharion. At a signal from Igrul, all the other Drogbar immediately scattered like startled birds, skillfully fleeing the cave.
Clang!
Drawing his twin axes from his back, Igrul's expression gradually turned fierce.
"Neltharion! we have had enough of your tyrannical enslavement. Today, the Drogbar officially break with you! Fallen Black Dragon King, face the fury we have accumulated for all these years!"