Ekseltus was rapidly flying towards a massive, twisted, and extremely unstable energy source.
This energy felt quite similar to what Nefarian emanated before he was purified, only grander and more distorted.
So he was certain that it was Deathwing's lair in Deepholm.
The closer he got to his destination, the more shocking the environmental changes became.
What was originally just dull, heavy rock strata was gradually being eroded by a sickly purple-black network of veins.
These veins flickered on and off, emitting a pungent odor of sulfur and decay.
The rocks themselves had become unusually brittle, riddled with fine pores, looking as if they had been moth by countless tiny creatures.
The air was stiflingly hot, mixed with the smell of metal and a deeper, more profound decay.
This was no longer the pure domain of the Earth element, but land doubly contaminated by the whispers of the Old Gods and the madness of Deathwing.
Ekseltus glided silently, his five-colored scales shimmering with magnificent light under the glow of the lava.
His vertical pupils scanned the twisted landscape below, his thoughts tracing back fragments of the owner's past:
After the War of the Ancients, the Black Dragon King, thoroughly corrupted by NZoth's whispers, frantically sought the dragon soul—
The artifact, infused with the essence of the other Dragon Aspectss and crafted by his own hands.
NZoth constantly whispered in his ear that it was his only key to dominating all races.
He did achieve this, albeit very briefly.
With the immense power of the dragon soul, he once successfully controlled all other dragons.
If Krassus hadn't suddenly intervened and broken his control, he would have truly succeeded.
Neltharion, left with no choice, forcibly activated the dragon soul, attempting to violently force the other Dragon Aspectss into submission.
But he still failed; the dragon soul's outburst not only killed most of the Blue Dragons but also severely wounded its creator.
He had no choice but to return to his lair and forge the Elementium armor (Note 1) to stabilize his constantly crumbling body.
It was at this time that Malfurion Stormrage, using a passage through the Emerald Dream, stole the precious disc.
Subsequently, the four Dragon Aspectss jointly placed an eternal curse upon it: no dragon could ever control it again.
The hope of dominating all races was utterly shattered, becoming the final straw that broke Neltharion's sanity.
He abandoned the title of Earth-Warder, proclaimed himself "Deathwing," and declared an oath of annihilation to the entire world—he would destroy everything the Titanss created and then build his own dynasty upon the ruins (Note 2).
Immediately after—thinking of this, Ekseltus's lips curled slightly.
Immediately after, this world-destroyer, who had sworn to annihilate all life, was defeated by a Tauren warrior named Huln Highmountain.
The Highmountain War God, wielding the Creation Pillar left by the Titans—the Hammer of Khaz'goroth—smashed Deathwing out of his lair in Highmountain, forcing him to flee in disarray into the shadows of Deepholm.
For the ten thousand years that followed, Deathwing lay dormant there, licking his wounds and accumulating hatred for all things in the world.
It wasn't until the Second War that he reappeared, secretly manipulating the Dragonmaw Clan.
He made these Orcs use the dragon soul to turn the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza into an egg-laying machine, hoping to achieve his goals with these hatchlings.
Ekseltus's thoughts were interrupted by the sight before him.
He had reached the entrance of the lair.
Nearby, several Black Dragon corpses lay strewn between lava and black rock.
He descended, landing beside a relatively intact carcass.
It was a female Black Dragon.
Ekseltus looked around and found that all the corpses were female.
Their bodies were charred black—not their original black, but the marks left by high-temperature scorching. Scales had peeled off in large patches, flesh was carbonized, and bones had melted in the high heat and then re-solidified, twisting into bizarre arcs.
Along the neck down to the chest and abdomen, deep claw marks were visible, reaching the bone, clearly indicating that giant claws had repeatedly squeezed and torn these areas.
Large patches of charring on the back and under the belly were strangely concentrated.
Lingering energy still surrounded her remains—Deathwing's unique, violently out-of-control power of earth and fire, emanating an intense sense of oppression.
Ekseltus's dragon claw lightly touched the most severe burn marks, feeling her pain before death and Deathwing's madness.
"Completely destroyed from the inside out," Ekseltus concluded.
This was definitely not damage caused by combat; it was more like the result of some kind of—loss of control, or pure venting of rage.
He did not linger. With a flap of his dragon wings, he silently and smoothly entered the lair's entrance, which resembled a monstrous, gaping maw.
Similarly, just as he had infiltrated Ulduar before, his figure gradually shrank and became transparent, eventually disappearing completely into the dim light.
The air inside the lair grew even hotter and more foul; the whispers of the Old Gods here almost solidified into tangible forms, like tentacles, desperately probing and drilling into every possible crevice.
At the end of the passage was a massive cavern that had been forcibly widened.
In the center of the cavern, a huge black figure lay prostrate on the ground.
Deathwing, Neltharion.
Even in his curled posture, the dragon's body, clad in heavy Elementium armor, was as imposing as a mountain.
The Elementium plates were twisted and arranged, directly fused to his flesh.
Between the armor's seams, hot lava glowed and surged, pulsating as if it were his blood.
His head was bowed, and each breath he took expelled scorching smoke.
His dragon horns, like a twisted crown, still flowed with lava where they were broken.
(War of the Guardian Dragons)
Before him, a relatively petite figure appeared especially fragile—that was Onyxia.
Her scales were dull, and her eyes intertwined with fear, struggle, and obedience.
"...Nefarian, that traitor, completely lost contact after a simple mission, forgetting our true destiny!"
"He betrayed his bloodline, his responsibility!"
Deathwing's voice boomed deeply, each syllable shaking loose gravel from the cavern.
He suddenly lifted his head, his molten-gold dragon eyes locking onto Onyxia, with no paternal warmth in his gaze, only the coldness and fanatical obsession of seeing her as a tool.
"Remake! Only complete destruction and remaking can correct the errors of this world!"
"The Titanss' creations are failures, fragile! Only we, my offspring, are fit to be the masters of the new world!"
His voice suddenly rose, filled with hysterical madness; the air in the cavern seemed to tremble from his roar.
"This is the only path to freedom! From the Titanss' shackles, from the shadows of the Old Gods, Azeroth will be reborn under my feet!"
"Ultimately, I will be the sole master!"
He leaned closer to Onyxia, the scent of lava almost engulfing her.
"And you, my daughter, you are more loyal than Nefarian—but not enough!"
"Our legion needs new blood, stronger, purer blood!"
"Only then can my grand plan be realized!"
"Nefarian failed expectations, so you must bear this responsibility."
Deathwing's voice took on a sickeningly seductive tone, "Offer your body, your essence—to bear new offspring for me."
This is your glory, and the meaning of your existence!
Onyxia's body visibly stiffened, instinctively wanting to retreat, yet an invisible pressure held her firmly in place.
Her eyes flickered violently, her instinct to resist battling the deep-seated whispers of corruption.
Those whispers came from NZoth, and from this mad father before her; they coiled around her, softening her will.
Transforming fear into a twisted, forced sense of affirmation and pride.
"Fa-father…" Her voice trembled uncontrollably, so faint it was almost drowned out by Deathwing's heavy breathing.
Her gaze swept over her father's lava-flowing armor, past the madness glinting in his molten-gold pupils.
Finally, the last glimmer of struggle in her eyes gradually extinguished.
Her body slightly relaxed its tense posture, her head bowed even lower,
The posture was no longer resistance, but a kind of reluctant acceptance.
Ekseltus floated silently in the shadows of the cavern, perfectly concealing his aura and energy fluctuations.
He took in everything within the cavern—under his influence, Nefarian's fate had been rewritten, triggering this butterfly effect.
Deathwing had fallen into deeper madness, eager to add more leverage to his world-destroying plan, even going so far as to target his own daughter.
Although dragon ethics differed from those of mortals, there shouldn't be such perverted examples among Azeroth's dragons.
And Onyxia, under the corruption of NZoth and her father, was truly breaking down, accepting that bearing offspring for him was a supreme glory.
(Onyxia)
Just as one of Deathwing's massive claws, with an intent to possess and defile, slowly reached towards Onyxia's bowed neck, Ekseltus suddenly moved.
A violent spatial fluctuation instantly drew the attention of the other two dragons.
Ekseltus's five-colored dragon body appeared without warning in the center of the cavern, momentarily distracting the father and daughter.
The Chromatic Dragon neither roared nor declared; his movements were concise and elegant, yet utterly ruthless.
A dragon claw lifted, its tip wreathed in dark gold light, and slashed through the air towards Deathwing's body!
"Roar—?!" Deathwing's vertical pupils abruptly contracted in shock and rage; a violent power instinctively surged from his body, attempting to tear apart this sudden intruder.
However, it was too late.
The trajectory of Ekseltus's claw tip seemed slow, yet it was as if time itself had frozen, making it impossible to react before it completed.
Wherever the dark gold light touched, space groaned under the strain, instantly twisting and deforming, then collapsing and sinking, finally being completely torn apart!
A spatial rift, stretching between Deathwing and Deepholm, suddenly opened!
On the other side of the rift were surging Void currents and shattered spatial fragments, generating an utterly terrifying suction force!
This was no ordinary banishment spell.
It cleverly seized the weak points in space, mercilessly severing Deathwing from the earth beneath his feet, and from his connection to NZoth!
"No—!" Deathwing's roar was filled with fury and a hint of—panic. His body was tightly gripped by the powerful suction, and his Elementium armor emitted a screeching metallic tearing sound under the terrifying pull!
He frantically swung his claws, trying to tear at the edges of the spatial rift, to prevent all of this from happening;
At the same time, Deathwing also tried to spray Ekseltus with a violent lava breath, but couldn't even stain his iridescent scales…
He struggled, much like a giant beast caught in quicksand, irresistibly dragged inch by inch into the spatial rift!
"Bang!"
The spatial rift rapidly contracted inwards, accompanied by a dull thud, and quickly closed.
Deathwing's final roar and his destructive aura were completely isolated in the plane on the other side of the rift.
That was a spatial coordinate he had obtained from Mannoroth, pointing to a lifeless planet in the universe.
After Deathwing was banished, a large section of the cavern instantly emptied, and the view immediately opened up.
Only a few fragments of Elementium armor, sliced off by the spatial turbulence, and the lingering scorching air, confirmed that everything that had happened in those few breaths was real.
After the sudden dramatic change subsided, the interior of the cavern fell into a dead silence.
Ekseltus slowly lowered his dragon claw, and the dark golden light receded with it.
His vertical pupils turned to Onyxia, who stood frozen in place.
The young female dragon was clearly stunned and at a loss by her father's instantaneous disappearance.
But only a few seconds later, the will corrupted by NZoth and long twisted by Deathwing immediately gained the upper hand.
She suddenly looked up at Ekseltus, her originally struggling dragon eyes now only filled with the rage of a defiled holy relic and twisted "loyalty."
"You! Defiler!" Onyxia's voice was shrill and hoarse with extreme anger, trembling, "You interrupted a sacred ritual!"
"You banished my great father! You took away my supreme glory!"
She had completely internalized Deathwing's perverse demands as some kind of sacred sacrificial ritual.
Before her words finished, she furiously spread her wings, and the energy of shadow and flame wildly gathered in her mouth!
She didn't even try to create distance, but instead directly spewed her strongest dragon's breath—Onyxia took a deep breath!—at Ekseltus, who was just a few feet away.
She wanted to tear apart this existence that had interfered with her "destiny"!
Facing this breath capable of melting through mountain walls, Ekseltus didn't even bat an eye.
He merely raised his other dragon claw.
No light, no incantations.
An invisible dragon's might instantly unfolded from him!
Onyxia's violently spewed dragon's breath was blocked when it was still several meters away from Ekseltus's scales, as if it had hit an indestructible wall of sighs!
Flames capable of melting metal and corrosive shadows dissipated and annihilated like soap bubbles, failing to even stir a ripple!
Immediately after, that dragon's might suddenly contracted, concentrated, and finally precisely applied to Onyxia!
"Mnh—!" Onyxia let out a pained grunt and promptly fainted.
Her condensed power was dispersed, her wings were forcibly pressed back to her sides, and her entire dragon body was rigidly immobilized, unable to move even a single claw.
Ekseltus stepped forward, his shadow completely enveloping the immobilized Onyxia.
"—She seems more deeply poisoned than Nefarian; she'll need more time to purify."
Then, he looked at the spot where the rift had just closed.
"However, the truly troublesome one should be the one who was banished."
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