"Whew~"
Prisim's decisive action took even Andreas by surprise, causing him to let out a sharp, subconscious whistle.
Amidst the backdrop of the Shen'dralar citizens fleeing in all directions, Andreas and the Marine Corps, who remained standing firmly in place, were the first to draw Immol'thar's attention.
"ROAR!"
The giant demon, captured by Eldre'Thalas during the War of the Ancients, let out a massive roar, spraying foul-smelling saliva. Its bloated body moved with a speed that defied its massive tonnage, smashing the stone pillars in the center of the ring as it charged directly toward Andreas.
"Boring..."
Having been drained of energy like a "power bank" for over two hundred years, Immol'thar was undoubtedly in a weakened state, even if it wasn't yet completely at death's door.
Andreas let out a disinterested yawn and waved his hand, signaling Linus to lead the Marines forward to engage.
"I'll leave it to you. This is a perfect chance to test the Marines' actual combat performance against large-scale creatures."
Linus's spirits rose. "Yes, sir! Marine Corps, take heed—Anti-Large Creature Combat Formation!"
The front-line warriors of the Marines swapped to massive shields that required both hands to hold. With a loud Clang, they slammed these heavy shields into the ground, leaning forward in a half-squatting posture, braced for impact.
Just as the Arcanists finished enchanting the warriors' shields with Fel-protection spells, the enraged twin-headed Warp Hunter slammed violently into the front-row shields.
Warp Hunters held a low status within the Burning Legion, typically serving as pets for certain powerful demons. However, Immol'thar was different from ordinary Warp Hunters; its strength was significantly higher than the mass-produced versions, and its back was covered in a multitude of eerie eye-tentacles behind its two hideous heads.
While using its weight to crash against the warriors' defensive line, the eyes on Immol'thar's back began to emit a sinister red glow.
Linus noticed Immol'thar's anomaly and set an example by raising an Arcane defensive array in the rear position.
"Construct the joint defensive array! Prepare to counter enemy spell bombardment!"
Crimson beams of light shot from the eyes on Immol'thar's back, crackling as they bombarded the protective magic array held up by the Arcanists.
The front-line warriors, suffering the direct impact of the demon dog, felt their hands trembling, but they held firm against Immol'thar's advance, preventing it from breaking into the center of the formation.
The Priestesses of Elune stood safely within the protective barrier, casting spells on the struggling warriors. A flurry of continuous restoration spells began repairing the damage the warriors sustained.
"Flank rangers, fire! Shoot every single one of those disgusting eyes. I don't want to see this ugly monster launch a second round of attacks!"
Whiz, whiz, whiz!
As the predecessors of the High Elf rangers, the current Shadow Elf rangers—guided by Andreas's jungle guerrilla tactics—had begun to show their true worth. Arrows with divine precision pierced the disgusting eye-tentacles of Immol'thar one by one, spraying green Fel blood everywhere.
"AWOO!"
The intense pain drove Immol'thar into a frenzy, but its weakened body made it difficult to exert its full strength. The front-line warriors held their ground like iron, pinning down the demon dog's advancing steps.
With the majority of the long-range eye-tentacles destroyed, only the two massive central eyes on its two heads remained. A savage light flashed in Immol'thar's eyes, and thick beams of Fel energy—resembling a Demon Hunter's Eye Beam—shot forth.
BOOM!
The Arcane barrier collided violently with the Eye Beams. The collision of Order and Chaos—two completely opposite forces—triggered a series of deafening explosions.
Realizing that constant defense would eventually fail, Linus seized the moment when Immol'thar entered a cooldown period after its first round of Eye Beams. He rallied his strength and commanded the Arcanists and Druids to launch a simultaneous magical bombardment.
"Unleash your strongest spells! End this in one breath!"
In its weakened state, Immol'thar ultimately could not withstand the Marines' burst of power. When the Feral Druids—known for high attack but low defense—received the order to pounce into the battlefield, its fate was sealed.
...
Andreas stood not far from the battlefield with his arms crossed, watching the fight. Prisim and several scholar leaders stood beside him.
The scholars looked silently at the head in Prisim's hand—eyes still wide in death. A red-haired scholar at the lead sighed and reached out to close Tortheldrin's unseeing eyes.
"That the Prince would fall to such a state is, in the end, due to our own incompetence."
Daros nodded, his mood somber. "Master Mordent is right. If we could have devised a better method of energy supply, the Prince wouldn't have had to risk absorbing large amounts of incompletely converted energy, leading to Fel corruption."
Mordent closed his eyes in silence for a few seconds. "The dead are gone. We must think about the future path for the Shen'dralar."
The scholars simultaneously turned their gaze toward Andreas, who remained standing with his arms folded.
"Oh?" Andreas looked at the scholars with a half-smile. "You're accepting this so easily? Tortheldrin was your leader, wasn't he? Aren't you planning to seek revenge against me?"
Prisim said coldly, "Before Prince Tortheldrin lost his mind, his constant hope was to ensure the continuation of the Shen'dralar."
"After today's events, the absorption and conversion of Fel energy has been confirmed as untenable. For survival, we can only place our hopes in you."
Daros bowed respectfully. "Though many unexpected turns occurred, we hope Lord Moonshadow can keep the promise Mr. Starscar made at the banquet and point out a path forward for over 1.3 million Shen'dralar elves."
"Roar..."
As Immol'thar's feeble roars gradually faded, the thousand Marine members raised their weapons and let out a cheer of victory.
Andreas solemnly promised the scholars who bowed for his help, "Please rest assured. Since I am the one who brought this matter to light, I will naturally take responsibility to the end."
"Tortheldrin, whose mind was eroded by Fel, is dead. However, there will inevitably be unstable elements within Eldre'Thalas still loyal to him."
"I will find a way to solve the magic addiction problem you all worry about most. I also ask you scholars to work together to clear the hidden dangers buried within this city."
...
Half a month later, outside the gates of Eldre'Thalas.
Fandral, who had just teleported over, complained to Andreas with a look of speechlessness, "Andreas, I am in the midst of my honeymoon. Do you not feel ashamed for ruining my sweet life like this?"
"Huh?" Andreas looked at Fandral with disdain. "You got married 120 years ago, didn't you? And you call that a 'honeymoon'? I think you need to relearn the usage of the Kaldorei language."
"Tsk! What would an old bachelor like you know?"
Ignoring the veins throbbing on Andreas' forehead, Fandral proudly puffed out his sturdy chest.
"My wife is pregnant. We were discussing what to name our unborn child when I was called over by you. Shouldn't you think of a way to compensate us?"
"Hehe~" Andreas gave a hollow smile. "Compensate, you say? Once you finish your official business, I will personally deliver the 'compensation' to your doorstep."
Seeing the unfriendly look in Andreas' eyes, Fandral couldn't help but shudder. He hopped back a step into a defensive posture and questioned warily, "Are you trying to scheme against me again? It won't be that easy this time! Don't think you can trick me with the same stunt twice!"