"Fine, I will listen to you this once."
Azshara had no desire to genuinely anger her husband; she understood the balance of priorities perfectly well. With that final word, she followed him onto the luxurious airship. This vessel was a combined masterpiece of Lordaeron's Mage Association and Engineers' Association, built through their collaborative efforts.
Not only had it revolutionized power consumption, but it also normally required nothing more than ambient natural elements and its specialized magical arrays to remain suspended in the air. Furthermore, by linking directly into Azeroth's ley-line network, it could continuously draw upon an endless supply of energy to boost its speed or deploy its defensive and offensive systems.
The fel-energy cannons mounted on deck had been salvaged from the Burning Legion and thoroughly modified; a single discharge from these weapons was equivalent to the full-force strike of a Grand Mage, capable of leveling an entire mountaintop with terrifying efficacy.
Even more exaggerated was the defensive magical shielding, which worked in tandem with various aura effects to slow down incoming attacks and convert them into stored energy. The more it was assaulted, the more power it accumulated, plunging its attackers into sheer despair. As the primary transport for the Empire's King, it had been relentlessly engineered into a literal flying fortress.
Nightborne, Highborne, Blood Elves, Goblins, Gnomes, and Dwarves had all participated in its construction. Serving the Empire was one thing, but being handsomely rewarded upon its completion was what truly mattered to them.
The elven magi required mage-grade materials and reagents to conduct experiments and elevate their strength, earning merit points within the association to purchase whatever they desired. The engineers, on the other hand, could utilize their points to enroll in classes taught by none other than the grand progenitor of engineering, Mimiron. These classes offered access to Azeroth's most advanced engineering knowledge and taught the mechanics behind Titan facilities.
Without a doubt, Titan facilities represented the pinnacle of technological engineering. Learning even a fraction of their principles was enough for one to be hailed as a master in more remote regions. Currently, the development of these outer territories was progressing like wildfire; though the environment there was grueling, the returns were staggeringly high.
Enduring hardship was not an inherent virtue, but if enduring hardship yielded exceptional returns, it became entirely worthwhile. "To endure the bitterest hardships is to serve the highest masters," as the old saying went, but if one could secure an abundant livelihood through it, the hardship ceased to matter.
The experience gained here would be utilized to construct subsequent airship battleships. On the surface, these were meant to deal with the Old God C'Thun and his Qiraji insectoids, but that was merely a convenient cover. Utilizing a configuration of this caliber against C'Thun was akin to using anti-aircraft artillery to swat mosquitoes—it would certainly be effective, but highly wasteful.
Yet, C'Thun was precisely the target needed to train the troops and prepare them for the eventual final showdown with the Burning Legion. Arthas's true enemy had never been the Old Gods, but the Burning Legion.
The Old Gods, at most, sought to corrupt the world and turn its inhabitants into their slaves, yet they still maintained a degree of reverence for the World-Soul, Goddess Aionhara. The Pantheon wished to forge the World-Soul into the cosmic force of Order, while the Old Gods intended to twist her into a bastion of the Void. Regardless of which force claimed her, she would stand as a peak existence without equal.
As for the Burning Legion, their goal was absolute enslavement rather than cultivation. This was a fundamental distinction; Sargeras would never cultivate an entity capable of growing more powerful than himself—even a fellow Titan was only fit to be enslaved under his heel.
Consequently, there could be no compromise with the Burning Legion; it was an absolute duel to the death. While a fragile cooperation could be managed when faced with a Void invasion, the moment that external threat vanished, they would immediately return to tearing each other apart with absolute ferocity.
Fanatical zealots could never be persuaded, not even by the physical weight of a god's fist; they could only be struck down and utterly erased. Since a peaceful resolution was impossible, it remained a fight to the finish—either the Burning Legion would fall, or Sargeras would be obliterated. There was no third option.
The airship glided through the mid-sky, maintaining an altitude that allowed for a crystal-clear view of the landscape below while remaining precisely within standard magical engagement range. Even in the event of a sudden ambush, the distance alone would minimize the impact of the attack to an absolute minimum.
Arthas had just uncorked a bottle of wine when his handmaiden Helya stepped forward, her tone completely even.
"Master, the cause has been verified. The disruption originated from the northwest. A faction of Zandalar trolls was deployed to Pandaria; they apparently possessed a unique method to bypass the mists, successfully seizing the Core of Thunder and resurrecting Lei Shen, the last Emperor of the Mogu."
"North of the Townlong Steppes lie two massive islands. One is known as the Isle of Giants, inhabited by a vast array of megafauna. Based on our analysis of the lingering energy patterns, the Sundering caused by the explosion of the Well of Eternity likely shattered a Titan facility there, leaving the captive animals to escape and become trapped on the island to survive."
"The island possesses a unique electromagnetic field that accelerates biological growth rates and dramatically increases physical size. The side effect is that it renders the local wildlife exceptionally violent. These creatures are virtually untamable, acting more like beasts devoid of intellect, having sacrificed their cognitive faculties to maximize their physical capabilities."
Arthas was not surprised by the report; the presence of surrounding islands near a mainland was entirely standard geography. The greater Pandaria region possessed three massive islands—the first being the Timeless Isle, where time itself stood completely stagnant. Spending too much time there made it incredibly easy for a being to be assimilated into the island's fabric.
Although the wildlife remained distinct, they could never leave the island for the rest of their lives; upon death, they would simply resurrect after a brief period with all their memories entirely wiped. In essence, they became extensions of the island itself—permanently alive, yet an immortality of that nature was worse than death.
Since these creatures were fundamentally part of the island, they could neither reproduce nor affect the flow of time elsewhere. Such an immortality was indistinguishable from death, and living through it was merely a prolonged sentencing.
The last Emperor of the Pandaren, Shaohao, resided on the Timeless Isle, existing basically as a static fixture with zero capacity to intervene in external affairs, capable of offering a warning at most but nothing beyond that.
"It sounds intriguing, but we have no need for a laboratory of that nature," Arthas replied indifferently. "With the Sholazar Basin and Un'Goro Crater available, those two biological research facilities possess functions vastly superior to the Isle of Giants. If I'm not mistaken, its flaws stem from Freya's lack of direct involvement; had she supervised it, such an oversight would never have occurred."
He was now truly wealthy and powerful, completely looking down on a place like the Isle of Giants. It had long served merely as a testing ground for Pandaren monks to challenge themselves, with occasional Mogu martial artists venturing up as well. Though the Mogu were currently diminished, they still constituted a notable force, scraping by in the underground depths with mediocre overall strength.
Hearing this, Azshara's interest was instantly piqued, a flash of disdain and eagerness dancing in her eyes.
"Lei Shen? Is that the absolute nobody I nearly slapped to death back then? Do you need me to go handle him? It won't take much time, and I haven't fought in ages; I suspect some people have already forgotten my existence."
Her hands were itching for a proper fight. Azshara was always like this, acting entirely on a whim and doing whatever crossed her mind without ever considering the long-term consequences of her actions.
Sometimes, one simply needed to live freely without overthinking; that was true liberty. One could call Azshara conceited, but one could never claim she didn't live life with absolute clarity.
"No, there's no need for you to step in yet," Arthas countered gently. "Furthermore, dealing with Lei Shen is a matter for the Pandaren. We must let them come to us for aid; only then can we dictate more favorable terms. At this stage, our primary focus remains the gathering of materials; there's no need to entangle ourselves in other matters."
"The Dread Wastes still hold the lineage of the Mantid, and that region possesses valuable resources as well. Once we have resurrected all the Wild Gods and established them to guard Kalimdor, we can better direct our gaze toward Outland to permanently eliminate the Burning Legion."
Arthas could easily step forth and obliterate the Mogu King himself, but there was no practical necessity for it. Every action had to maximize profit. This wasn't to say he lacked benevolence, but rather that in this era, acting out of pure altruism only invited exploitation. One should never test mortal nature; it rarely withstood the scrutiny, making pragmatic leverage far more reliable.
Compared to acting as a blind do-gooder, playing the role of a practical realist who secured his own interests suited him far better. Helping others for the sheer joy of it? Apologies, but that was something he could encourage others to do; if everyone else chose to be a selfless saint, his administrative burdens would lessen considerably, sparing him from dealing with endless trivial disputes.
As King, he naturally wasn't required to micromanage such affairs, but even if he refrained, personnel were still required to handle them. It was a massive waste of time—disputes over property lines, encroaching structures... mortals were consistently insatiable.
When dealing with such individuals, the cleanest method was often elimination. There was no need to weigh their past contributions; executing such troublemakers ensured future operations proceeded with far fewer headaches. If it was inconvenient to act openly, it could always be handled quietly in the shadows.
Once the principal agitators were eliminated, a vast majority of the trivial nonsense simply vanished. This approach mirrored Onyxia's exact philosophy: Got a problem? Don't worry—eliminate the person causing it, and the problem disappears.
As for maintaining a dynamic, upward social mobility? That was none of her concern; she required predictable cogs, not components attempting to exercise individual consciousness to execute minor schemes. While it sounded brutal in practice, ensuring absolute adherence to an established framework remained the most efficient method of governance.
Jaina covered her mouth as she giggled, having no intention of opposing this stance. She possessed benevolence, but only in measured quantities; she was no blind saint, and she utterly despised self-righteous hypocrites, preferring to see them dealt with systematically. This was especially true for the recently emerging environmental, animal rights, and humanist organizations, which were handled swiftly whenever they crossed the line.
Those factions were undoubtedly being manipulated by lingering demons of the Burning Legion, though they had failed to form a coherent movement. That didn't mean they should be left unchecked; as the policy stood, once caught, they were eliminated, and a thorough purging solved the issue permanently. Individuals with fundamentally warped perspectives were simply beyond rational communication.
The demons would be handled systematically in due time. Speaking of which, the Demon Hunters cultivated by Illidan served as exceptional tools, possessing an incredible talent for tracking fel energies. Normal individuals struggled to pierce a demon's disguise, but before the gaze of a Demon Hunter, no concealment could avail them. They had sacrificed their eyes in exchange for far sharper spectral senses, often perceiving the reality of things more clearly than with physical sight.
The bad news was the loss of physical eyes, but the good news was a clearer perception of the world—and they never had to worry about myopia again.
"The landscape below seems to be shifting. Now that we've crossed the mountain range, this area should be the Valley of the Four Winds, correct?"
Jaina shot a glance at the map console; the airship featured an automated mapping function. Though merely an auxiliary system, it could record their current coordinates and dynamically update the geographic environment on the display. If the terrain conflicted with older maps, it would trigger a prompt, making it exceptionally intelligent.
This was another of Mimiron's masterpieces; even in an era devoid of modern computers, exotic technology could effectively replicate their functions with excellent reliability and ease of use.
The Valley of the Four Winds was exactly as its name implied.
It featured serene fields and incredibly fertile farmlands. To the south of the valley lay a lush, mysterious rainforest, while to the north towered insurmountable mountains. This basin had long been hailed as the "land of milk and honey" of Pandaria, serving as the essential granary for the Pandaren race.
Despite lacking the direct volatile energy exuded by the Heart of Y'Shaarj, the valley housed a unique Titan facility whose localized energy grid accelerated crop maturation rates significantly, ensuring the region remained a highly critical strategic point.
Currently, the Mantid launched occasional incursions into the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, though the scale and intensity remained minor. They largely adhered to their historical cycle: when the food supply produced by the Dread Wastes fell short, they launched massive swarms against the Vale; those who died naturally no longer required feeding.
The surviving Mantid would continue to fight until they ascended into exceptional champions, at which point they would be preserved within unique amber gel. They would remain sealed for centuries, to be released only when an urgent necessity arose.
In a sense, it was a brutal system of natural selection devoid of any concepts of individual rights; the Mantid were insectoids who merely maintained a humanoid posture. There was no need to discuss rights; if they didn't wage war, their society would suffer internal collapse, making continuous warfare the more viable path.
From a structural perspective, it represented a self-sustaining cycle.
"The Valley of the Four Winds! I heard from Uncle Chen that our Stormstout family has a legendary brewery passed down here," Li Li chimed in, simply looking for a way to join the conversation. "Hehe, would Your Highness like to go take a look? They say it's the finest brewery in the world. Back then, Uncle Chen only left Pandaria to search for even better brewing ingredients!"
"A brewery? How many members of your family are actually left here?"
Azshara possessed an exceptionally high demand for fine liquor, historically relying on the Nightborne of Suramar to brew and supply her needs. Having grown accustomed to refined elven wines, she naturally wished to sample alternative varieties. For her, she could renounce romance, but she could never renounce wine!
"I have no idea," Li Li replied casually. "I was born on the Wandering Isle, and Uncle Chen left a few days ago; I don't even know where he is right now. Hehe, to me, this place is just a strange land that happens to share my family name. It's much better back in Lordaeron; that way, Princess Shandris can play with me!"
Li Li was entirely uninhibited. As a young Pandaren girl, she was naturally endearing, carrying the characteristic cheerfulness and optimism of her race. What girl didn't fondle a fluffy Pandaren? Everyone favored this innocent, stress-free demeanor; it was the ideal state of existence.
"Then it has likely fallen into ruin long ago," Azshara remarked, her interest waning. Asking her to assist in reconstructing a brewery was out of the question. Had there been something capable of genuinely intriguing her, she might have offered a casual hand, but if the process proved overly complex, she wouldn't lift a finger.
"Even if it's ruined, it can always be rebuilt. Don't lose heart, Li Li; if you want to restore the brewery, you can achieve it through hard work," Jaina comforted gently. She wouldn't necessarily offer direct aid either; it depended entirely on whether it aligned with their interests. To her, this continent was defined as a playground for the children—the danger threshold was low, making it an excellent environment for gaining practical experience.