Saving Azeroth (By Stealing the Black Dragon Princess) - 25

Chapter 25: Filial Piety and Finishing Blows

The temporal rift suddenly tore open inside the safe house with a sound like reality screaming. Chromie tumbled out, dragging Onyxia behind her. The bronze dragon's signature pigtails were singed and curled from facing Deathwing's overwhelming presence, tips still trailing wisps of acrid smoke.

"Deren!" Chromie shouted through gritted teeth, voice cracking with urgency. "Now!"

Deren did not answer. He simultaneously pulled down all three switches, knuckles white from excessive force, tendons standing out against his skin.

Electrical current connected the detonators in an instant. Then the explosion erupted from beneath Deathwing's feet.

BOOOOOOM—————————!!!

The explosion's shockwave arrived instantaneously. The entire safe house shook violently like a small boat in a hurricane. The basement's stone walls groaned under unbearable strain, cracks spreading like lightning across surfaces. The three of them could only crouch with arms over their heads, enduring the explosion's devastating impact. Seeing scattered rubble raining down, Onyxia rose instinctively to shield Deren and Chromie beneath her body.

After what felt like an eternity—or perhaps mere heartbeats—the ground settled into trembling calm. Onyxia staggered to push open the basement entrance's wooden hatch, only to have a pile of debris cascade down. She poked her head cautiously out to find utter devastation. In the distance, a massive mushroom cloud was rising ominously. Crimson fire waves rolled within the smoke pillar, dyeing the night sky blood-red for miles around. The ground swept by the shockwave looked plowed by a giant's hand, all vegetation pulverized by the explosion's raw force. The former fertilizer workshop and dragonspawn residential area had vanished entirely, only the massive reactor having rolled several hundred meters out, lying askew in the swamp mud like a discarded toy.

Chromie's small head also emerged from the basement. Seeing the apocalyptic scene outside, she whistled long and low. "This beats the Caverns of Time's year-end fireworks show by far."

"Ha!" Onyxia's pupils dilated with primal excitement. Her draconic bloodline made her instinctively savor this feast of destruction. Her fingertips unconsciously sprouted claws, scraping across the floor with ear-piercing sounds.

In the basement, Deren finally released the detonator, trembling fingers drawing a cross on his chest—silently wishing Deathwing whatever luck remained. The safe house's temperature was rising sharply, sweat sliding down his temples in rivers.

"Yield calculation should be correct," he muttered hoarsely. "Five hundred tons of ammonium nitrate mixed with aluminum powder is theoretically sufficient... But the opponent is Deathwing—an entire expansion dedicated to him. He reshaped Azeroth itself. His strength cannot be underestimated."

"Shockwave should be finished." Chromie suddenly revealed a cunning smile. "Want to bet? I wager Deathwing became fragments. This explosion power was like Titans descending for judgment."

Onyxia licked her somehow bloodied lips, tasting copper and ash. "I need to say goodbye properly. After all, he is my father. As a daughter, I should show filial piety."

Deren silently checked his remaining armor-piercing rockets, looking up with doubtful eyes. "I bet... he is calling for his master."

"Then let us go see quickly." Onyxia said with barely contained excitement, hefting two massive six-tube rocket launchers, one in each hand, striding toward ground zero with purposeful steps.

Soon they found the original lair no longer existed—now a crater over one hundred meters in diameter dominated the landscape, edges vitrified and gleaming eerily glazed in moonlight like obsidian glass.

The mushroom cloud's shadow had not yet dispersed, but ground zero's dust had settled considerably. By the not-yet-extinguished embers scattered like dying stars, Deren saw that massive crater—

And the writhing black shadow at the bottom.

"No... impossible..." Deren's throat constricted, his voice hoarse and unlike himself.

Onyxia shoved him roughly aside, golden vertical pupils contracting to predatory slits in the dim firelight.

Deathwing still lived.

But could no longer be called a "dragon."

The Destroyer's body was utterly ruined beyond recognition. Both forelimbs were reduced to charred bone stumps, tracing crooked marks on scorched earth as he struggled pathetically. His once sky-obscuring wings were completely gone; only bone fragments with shredded meat clinging remained at the shoulder blades.

Most shocking was his chest and abdomen—much of his proud elementium armor had peeled away like shed skin, exposing writhing flesh and lava-like blood that bubbled and hissed. The massive explosion had blown several penetrating wounds through his body, the smallest half a meter in diameter. Through one gaping hole, Deren could even see the beating, Old God-corrupted purple-black heart inside, pulsing with unnatural rhythm.

Splat.

A severed dragon tail hung like rags behind him, dragging bloody trails across scorched earth with each of Deathwing's agonized, writhing movements.

"He... he is crawling out..." Chromie's voice trembled unusually with genuine fear.

Indeed, despite catastrophic injuries, Deathwing still writhed determinedly toward the crater's edge. Each desperate struggle sent more lava blood spurting from wounds, burning hissing holes in the ground wherever it touched. His movements were clumsy as a dying insect, yet he was definitely advancing with supernatural determination.

"Five hundred tons..." Deren mechanically repeated, mind struggling to process. "Five hundred tons and still..."

Deathwing suddenly raised his shattered head.

Despite the distance of hundreds of meters, all three clearly saw those eyes—the originally molten-gold vertical pupils now bloodshot and damaged, one already burst, cloudy fluid flowing down the socket. But the remaining eye still burned with chilling ferocity and hatred.

Crack.

The Destroyer's jaw suddenly opened with audible grinding, revealing jagged broken teeth. The explosion had clearly damaged his throat—mouth opening and closing mechanically, yet making no coherent sound.

"Madman..." Chromie jumped back instinctively. "Still not dead?!"

Onyxia suddenly turned, dragon scales spreading rapidly from her neck. "I will give him mercy."

"Wait!" Deren grabbed her wrist desperately. "Don't get close! Use rockets from a distance!"

Onyxia transformed into dragon form, massive claws hooking two rocket pods as she launched into the air. She circled overhead like a predatory bird, aiming carefully at Deathwing trapped in the crater below.

Deren pushed Chromie urgently. "Help hold him still so rockets hit accurately."

The bronze dragon nodded, waving her staff to cast temporal magic. Deathwing noticed them, desperately trying to escape with his broken body. But with strength greatly diminished, even Chromie could easily restrain him. Instantly frozen by time stop spell that wrapped around him like golden chains. Onyxia in the sky seized the opportunity to dive, aiming precisely at Deathwing's exposed vitals. Twelve armor-piercing rockets fired in devastating salvo. Though no massive explosion occurred, enduring several more high-temperature metal jet streams boring through his flesh, Deathwing writhed and rolled in agony, then went ominously motionless.

Onyxia slowly descended, dragon wings stirring airflow that scattered ground ash in swirling patterns. Her vertical pupils stared fixedly at the once invincible Destroyer—now just a pile of broken bones and charred meat. Lava-like blood gurgled from dozens of penetrating wounds, pooling at the crater bottom into a burning lake that reflected firelight.

Was he dead?

This thought barely emerged when Deren's hoarse roar came from the distance:

"Don't get close! Load another round of rockets!"

Onyxia's dragon maw spread slightly in approval. She suddenly found herself beginning to appreciate Deren's cautious, almost obsessive style. She flew back to the safe house, where the basement still contained several rocket launchers already loaded and prepared.

When the Black Dragon Princess returned with fresh rockets hooked menacingly on her claws, circling above Deathwing again, the playing dead Dragon King finally felt primal fear.

Deathwing was indeed playing dead.

His consciousness floated in an abyss of agony, barely sustaining life through N'Zoth-granted corruption power. Purple-black granulation tissue writhed deep in wounds, attempting desperately to repair organs shredded by metal jets and explosive force.

Just stall a bit longer...

Just a bit longer...

But new rockets circled overhead like vultures. The Destroyer's heart—if that Old God-corrupted meat lump could still be called a heart—violently spasmed with terror.

Fear.

Pure, primal fear he had not felt in millennia.

He never imagined he would one day fear... finishing blows.

"Daugh...ter..."

His voice was hoarse and broken, the barely repaired throat producing sounds like rusted swords grinding painfully together.

Onyxia hovered at an altitude of several dozen meters—just outside dragon breath range. Her vertical pupils coldly observed the once invincible Destroyer, watching his mutilated limbs, watching his exposed organs, watching his...

Pleading eyes.

"We... share blood..." Deathwing's throat bobbed, the blasted vocal cords producing breathy, hissing sounds. "Spare... Father..."

Onyxia's dragon claws trembled imperceptibly.

One-thousandth of a second's hesitation.

Now!

Deathwing's intact eye suddenly blazed with ferocious cunning, residual lava in his chest gathering madly—

"Temporal Chains!"

Chromie's voice exploded from below. Golden sand rained down like a deluge, binding every inch of Deathwing's broken body in temporal restraints. The Destroyer's movements froze abruptly, even the dragon breath about to erupt stalled in his throat, extinguishing his final desperate struggle.

Onyxia's momentary hesitation instantly transformed into volcanic fury.

"You DARE mention bloodline?!"

Her roar shattered scorched earth within a hundred-meter radius.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!!!

Twelve armor-piercing rockets screamed out trailing flames like shooting stars.

"No, N'Zoth save me!" Even Deathwing felt genuine terror at death in this moment. His body could no longer withstand further strikes. He desperately called to his master N'Zoth for rescue, his voice breaking with genuine terror.

Chromie suddenly grew alert, eyes widening. "Wait! Void fluctuations! N'Zoth is—"

She could not finish.

BOOM!

Space at the crater center suddenly twisted and tore like fabric. Countless purple-black tentacles erupted from the rift, coiling around Deathwing's broken body with disturbing purpose. Void energy washed over every inch of the scorched crater bottom like a corrupting tide.

"NO!" Onyxia roared with rage, diving desperately. Rocket launchers in her claws gleamed coldly under moonlight.

Too late.

Half of Deathwing's body had been dragged into the rift, with only his mutilated dragon head still exposed to Azeroth's air. Seeing his daughter diving toward him like death incarnate, the Destroyer's single eye flashed with pure venom.

"You... will all..."

The final curse was drowned by screaming rockets.

The teleportation rift should have protected Deathwing from the final rocket salvo completely. But for some inexplicable reason, the otherwise smooth teleportation suddenly stuttered at the final critical stage, hesitating momentarily as though something interfered.

Whoosh—BOOM!

Warheads drilled into the rift the instant before it closed. A muffled explosion came from the distant void beyond reality. Immediately after, half a charred dragon tail dropped from the vanishing rift, crashing heavily at the crater bottom with a wet thud.

Onyxia slowly landed, dragon claws grasping the severed tail. Scales had lost all luster, the break showing bone fragments shredded by metal jets like twisted rebar.

Deren collapsed, sitting on the ground, every muscle trembling. Everything was over. Truly worthy of being Deathwing—even in this killing trap specifically designed for him, he still escaped with his life. Chromie floated beside him, small face deathly pale. "Did we... win?"

Deren nodded slowly, casually patting the small gnome's singed pigtails. "Of course. Now this Deathwing is a wounded beast with severed tail. He will be too busy hiding to heal his catastrophic injuries and will not dare cause trouble for a long time. Relax. We have won a great victory."

Onyxia did not answer immediately.

She looked up at the dissipating mushroom cloud. Dawn's first rays pierced through clouds, illuminating Dustwallow Marsh's scorched earth with golden light.

The new era's dawn. This was her new era—without fear and constant worry, free and happy under her own power.