Saving Azeroth (By Stealing the Black Dragon Princess) - 27

Chapter 27: Azeroth's Reward

Deren's consciousness floated in the boundless starry expanse.

Beneath his feet lay the slowly rotating Azeroth, azure oceans and verdant continents shrouded in soft silver radiance. Torrents of starlight flowed around him like living rivers, so close he felt he could reach out and touch the essence of time itself.

"Bomb boy, you did pretty well, didn't you?"

A clear female voice came from behind. Deren turned to see the silver-haired, star-eyed little girl—the World Soul of Azeroth's avatar—floating barefoot in the void, her delicate ankles wrapped in fine ribbons of light.

"You!" Deren instinctively straightened. "I didn't expect—"

The World Soul puffed her cheeks. "What, thought I'd just let you blow up part of my surface without saying hello?" She suddenly spread her arms, crashing into Deren's chest like a small cannonball.

This embrace carried unimaginable warmth. Deren felt countless streams of starlight seeping through his skin into his blood vessels, his bones humming softly with power, his muscle fibers reorganizing at a microscopic level. When she released him, a translucent golden seed mark had appeared in his palm, pulsing faintly.

"It can't compare to demigods, but at least..." Azeroth poked his bicep experimentally. "Now you can catch orc axes with your bare hands without losing fingers."

Starlight suddenly split into two brilliant strands, materializing in her palm—two antique gold coins, their obverse carved with Azeroth's continental outline, their reverse bearing constantly shifting Draconic runes that hurt to look directly at.

"For those two troublemakers." She flicked her fingers, shooting the coins into the void where they vanished. "Lucky coins, specially blessed by me. Perfect for those always tempting fate."

Deren was about to thank her when the starry river before him suddenly distorted violently.

"Wait!" he shouted urgently. "What should I do next—"

"Go sleep!" Azeroth made a face, kicking him out of the astral realm with surprising force.

Deren jolted awake, cold sweat completely soaking his nightshirt.

Morning light filtered through curtain gaps onto the bed in golden bars. He stared blankly at his open palm—the golden seed mark slowly fading beneath skin like sinking into water. On the bedside table, two antique gold coins gleamed with strange luster in sunlight, their runes no longer painful to view.

He tried clenching his fist experimentally. Air exploded with slight popping sounds between his fingers.

"Ha!" Deren sprang up with explosive energy—and immediately cracked his head against the ceiling beam with a resounding thud.

Crouching while clutching his throbbing forehead, he heard Onyxia's cold snort from the adjacent balcony:

"Human, demolishing houses at dawn?"

Deren grimaced, pushing open the floor-to-ceiling window to see the Black Dragon Princess leaning against the carved railing of the neighboring balcony. She unusually wore Theramore-style silk morning robes today, water droplets still clinging to her golden hair—clearly fresh from bathing.

"Ahem, got a gift for you—" Deren grabbed a coin and tossed it over in a perfect arc.

Onyxia caught it mid-air with reflexive precision. The instant the coin touched her skin, surface Draconic runes suddenly blazed with light. Her pupils contracted sharply. "This is..."

"Lucky coin. Wear it and—"

"Super lucky." Onyxia rubbed the coin's surface reverently, suddenly narrowing her eyes with understanding. "From that lord?" Her finger pointed downward at the earth beneath their feet.

Before Deren could answer, Chromie's excited scream suddenly erupted from the garden below:

"My gold coin!!!"

Both looked down to see the bronze dragon girl staring fixedly at the other coin in Deren's hand with undisguised greed.

"Give it quick, give it quick!" Chromie jumped excitedly, waving both hands like a child begging for candy.

Deren smiled, tossing the other lucky coin down to the small gnome.

Chromie caught the coin, excitedly touching and retouching it with reverence. She put it in her mouth for an experimental bite—dragon habit. Runes lit before her nose tip, bathing her entire face in warm golden light.

"Whoa!" She cheered with the coin still between her teeth. "Won't get lost during time travel anymore!"

Deren and Onyxia exchanged knowing glances, simultaneously facepalming.

After the morning excitement settled, Deren finally sat on Theramore Inn's sun-drenched terrace, eagerly enjoying breakfast.

Golden-fried ham sizzled on the plate, paired with swamp berries pickled in dwarven spirits, everything drizzled with local honey—this was the "Hero's Meal" specially prepared by Theramore's chef following Jaina's generous instructions.

Onyxia sat across from him, fingertips toying with the lucky coin. The coin flipped between her fingers with practiced ease, occasionally refracting golden light onto her thoughtful face.

Chromie crouched on the railing like a curious sparrow, gnawing bread while intensely studying runes on the coin with one eye closed.

"So this thing genuinely increases luck?" She tilted her head. "If I go buy goblin lottery tickets now, would I—"

Before finishing, Onyxia suddenly stiffened like she'd been struck.

The coin dropped from her fingers, bouncing twice on the wooden table, eerily standing upright in a table crack.

"Nefarian." Her voice instantly froze. "He is here."

Deren's fork stopped mid-air. "What? Now?"

Onyxia's golden vertical pupils contracted to thin lines. "He is at Dustwallow Marsh—inspecting the explosion site."

Chromie's bread dropped forgotten to the ground. "We are doomed! If he discovers any clues—after all, he is far more intelligent than typical black dragons."

Deren suddenly stood. The chair scraped ear-piercing sounds on the floor.

"Quick teleport!" He grabbed Chromie's wrist urgently. "To the scene now!"

Chromie fumbled for her pocket watch, her other hand grabbing Onyxia's sleeve. "Hold tight! No time to adjust landing precision this time—"

Whoosh!

The three figures instantly vanished in golden light. Onyxia did not forget to grab her lucky coin from the table before disappearing.

Onyxia's brother Nefarian stood on scorched earth, dark red armor gleaming with metallic cold light under the scorching sun.

His dragon claw traced the massive ravine on rock walls with surgical precision—those explosion marks disguised as black dragon claw gouges. Faint energy residue transmitted from fingertips made him frown with concentration.

"This is not right..."

As the Black Dragonflight's most outstanding scientist and researcher, Nefarian's sensitivity to energy fluctuations far exceeded that of normal beings. Deep within these supposed "claw marks" seemed hidden some... destruction pattern not belonging to dragonkind at all.

He crouched, pinching a handful of ash from scorched earth, sniffing cautiously at his nostrils.

"Saltpeter? Sulfur?" His brow furrowed deeper with suspicion. "This smells like—fertilizer?"

"What are you doing here so early?"

A familiar cold voice came from behind.

Nefarian slowly turned to see Onyxia stepping from a golden temporal rift, followed by Deren and that bronze dragon gnome.

His sister wore simple travel attire today, her black hair tied high in practical fashion, yet her waist unusually lacked the Black Dragonflight's signature runic sword. Stranger still, she emanated some kind of...

Lucky aura?

Nefarian's dragon eyes narrowed slightly. "Sister, you look... different."

Onyxia sneered coldly, boot tip kicking up a charred elementium fragment. "Father just blew my lair sky-high. What exactly do you think I should look like?"

Nefarian's calculating gaze swept across the three: They did not seem appropriately sorrowful about their father destroying the swamp. Instead they showed faint... pride?

His lips slowly curved. "Interesting."

Nefarian's gaze swept back and forth between the three, finally fixing intently on Onyxia.

"So," his voice was low and deliberate, "Father personally came to Dustwallow Marsh just to blow up your fertilizer factory?"

Onyxia crossed her arms, expression indifferent. "He was extremely dissatisfied with my improper business ventures."

Nefarian raised an eyebrow. "Then you fought?"

"Then I won."

Air froze momentarily.

Nefarian's mouth twitched involuntarily, clearly skeptical of this answer. He crouched again, fingertips tracing ground scorch marks with renewed focus, dragon eyes contracting—these marks were too geometrically neat, unlike dragon claw tearing, more like some kind of directional demolition.

Seeing this dangerous observation, Deren immediately stepped forward, face full of diplomatic smiles. "Prince! Actually it happened like this—"

He was about to fabricate an explanation when suddenly, Nefarian's gaze fell on Onyxia's waist—that lucky coin had somehow slipped halfway from her pocket, flickering faint golden light in harsh sunlight.

Hum—

Runes on the coin pulsed with light.

Nefarian's gaze glazed momentarily, brow muscles slightly relaxing, as if some invisible force gently interfered with his analytical judgment.

"Father does indeed hate these mortal tricks." He muttered, seemingly convincing himself. "Always has..."

Chromie keenly sensed the subtle change, immediately striking while the iron was hot. "Right, right! Lord Deathwing was furious! One claw swipe, BOOM!!!" She gestured wildly with exaggerated movements. "Then Sister Onyxia with a beautiful spinning counterattack—"

"Chromie." Onyxia coldly interrupted.

But Nefarian seemed genuinely derailed in thinking. He stood, dusting his armor with absent gestures, nodding thoughtfully. "So Father thought you were obsessed with the fertilizer business, losing Black Dragonflight dignity?"

"Correct." Onyxia's expression remained unchanged.

"Then he personally came to discipline you, only to be injured instead?"

"Precisely."

Nefarian quietly watched her for several tense seconds, suddenly—

"Ha!"

He laughed aloud with genuine amusement.

"Brilliant, sister." He shook his head, his tone carrying some unexpected appreciation. "I should have thought—Father has grown increasingly paranoid these years. Even I think he deserves discipline."

Deren: ...

Chromie: ...

Onyxia: ...

The lucky coin's effect was absurdly powerful.

Nefarian did not even pursue those strange explosion marks, only patting his sister's shoulder (Onyxia forcibly restrained herself from dodging), tone relaxed. "Since Father will not disturb us temporarily, then the fertilizer business... can continue?"

Deren blinked, quickly reacting. "Of course! And we are planning to expand production!"

"Good." Nefarian nodded with satisfaction. "Blackrock Mountain's volcanic sulfur—however much you need, whenever you need it."

Chromie secretly poked Deren's back, whispering. "Did this coin add some kind of special effect?"

Deren lowered his voice. "Shh... do not question it; just enjoy the benefits."

On Dustwallow Marsh's scorched earth, a breeze stirred fine ash in swirling patterns. Nefarian turned his back to the crater, dark red cape billowing slightly in heat waves, fingertips lightly tapping arm guards with crisp metallic sounds.

"So Father is now severely wounded, fled back to Deepholm, will not appear temporarily?"

Onyxia's expression remained unchanged, only nodding slightly.

Nefarian narrowed his eyes, seemingly weighing this information's strategic value. His gaze swept across Deren, glanced at Chromie, and finally settled back on his sister's face.

"Then our fertilizer business... can continue profitably?"

Deren immediately caught the keyword—our.

He coughed lightly, stepping forward half a pace, his face adopting a merchant's shrewd smile. "Naturally, Prince. In fact, now is the optimal time to expand operations."

Nefarian raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Deren's eyes gleamed with business acumen. "Consider this—Lord Deathwing is temporarily recuperating right now. The Black Dragonflight internally certainly needs an adjustment period. As his eldest son, you should naturally preside over Blackrock Mountain matters, correct?"

Nefarian nodded slightly, clearly satisfied with this positioning.

"But the fertilizer business is ultimately a small industry. Having you personally manage it seems beneath your station." Deren lowered his voice conspiratorially. "How about... converting to shares? Same operational model as before!"

Nefarian narrowed his eyes. "Convert to shares, and maintain the previous ten percent?"

"You provide resources, we handle operations, and you earn passive income." Deren rubbed his fingers together meaningfully. "For example, Blackrock Mountain's volcanic sulfur, orc laborers... You casually allocate some resources, and we split profits proportionally."

Nefarian pondered silently, suddenly chuckling. "Sounds reasonable. But if Father awakens and investigates..."

Onyxia coldly interjected. "That has nothing to do with you. Let him come find me."

Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the lucky coin at her waist, runes faintly flickering. Nefarian's gaze fell on the coin, eyes glazing momentarily again, then nodding. "Fine."

Deren seized the opportunity. "One more small matter—Theramore is now our important partner. Lady Jaina is very interested in expanding business—venue, personnel, and transport all depend on them. But she needs some... political leverage."

Nefarian raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Such as Kul Tiras prisoners captured by orcs during the Second War." Deren lowered his voice. "I heard Blackrock Depths still holds many prisoners? It's been so many years anyway; those people serve no purpose. Why not exchange them for something practical?"

Nefarian's eyes flashed with playful understanding. "Rescue them and give them to Jaina as a political favor?"

"Mutual benefit." Deren smiled brilliantly. "You gain Theramore's friendship, we get stable sales channels, Jaina gains political prestige... everyone wins."

Nefarian quietly observed Deren, suddenly laughing loudly. "Interesting! A mere human dares negotiate terms with me?"

Deren calmly pointed at Onyxia. "I am the Black Dragon Princess's partner. Naturally qualified to negotiate."

Nefarian's laughter stopped abruptly. He looked at his sister, then Deren, finally snorting lightly. "Fine. I will search when I return. If I can locate such prisoners among the orc camps, I will send them all."

He turned toward the crater edge, dark red cape dragging long traces on scorched earth, his voice carrying from afar. "As for sulfur... Blackrock Mountain's volcanic crater can be mined anytime you require."

Chromie stood on tiptoes, whispering. "Did we just... succeed?"

Deren wiped cold sweat from his forehead, exhaling deeply. "Lucky coins are terrifyingly powerful."

Onyxia watched her brother's retreating figure, golden vertical pupils contracting slightly. "He believed too quickly... something feels wrong."

Deren shrugged. "Maybe he just thinks earning money effortlessly beats fighting his sister?"

Chromie suddenly raised her hand enthusiastically. "Can we go buy goblin lottery tickets now?"