Saving Azeroth (By Stealing the Black Dragon Princess) - 18

Chapter 18: Jaina's Probe

Deep within a Burning Steppes cavern, lava flowed sluggishly through ravines, evaporating sulfur into every breath of air. Nefarian stood before an experimental table, shadow energy flowing like liquid darkness at his fingertips as he precisely cut a black dragon scale and grafted it onto a red dragon's mutilated remains.

"Hold on just a bit longer, my precious specimen..." he murmured, dragon eyes gleaming with feverish light. "This time will definitely succeed."

The experimental subject's muscle tissue spasmed violently under shadow stimulation, black-red blood foam seeping from scale crevices. Nefarian casually wiped blood splatters from his cheek with the back of his hand, then activated the arcane restraint array on the opposite side with practiced efficiency.

Just then, a dragonspawn servant approached with trembling steps, hands clutching a shadow crystal that pulsed with dark light.

"Master, urgent transmission from Blackwing Lair..."

Nefarian did not bother looking up from his work. "Read it aloud."

"Deathwing commands you to confirm Princess Onyxia's current movements. Reports suggest she has engaged in abnormal activities recently."

Nefarian's fingertips paused momentarily, then he sneered with dark amusement. "Abnormal? When has my dear sister ever been normal?" He casually crushed the crystal between his claws, shadow energy annihilating the fragments in his palm with a soft hiss. "Inform Father I will pay appropriate attention."

The half-dragon bowed deeply and retreated with obvious relief, while Nefarian's calculating gaze returned to his twitching experimental subject.

"Father? Sister? When I have spare time to waste!" He scoffed, fingertips suddenly piercing the subject's exposed spine with surgical precision. "Let me discover what tricks you are playing, dear sister..."

Dustwallow Marsh's morning mist clung stubbornly to the ground. Deren already stood in the newly constructed warehouse district, clutching a crumpled supply list, brow furrowed in obvious frustration.

"The third batch of sulfur is not pure enough..." He bit the quill's wooden end, crossing a sharp X through the ledger entry. "Goblins adulterating the product again."

Behind him came the distinctive rustling sound of scales scraping across sand. Onyxia somehow materialized behind him without warning, chin resting on his shoulder, scorching breath spraying directly at his ear. "Want me to burn their cargo ships as a message?"

"Absolutely not. Business requires steady supply flow." Deren turned his head, lips accidentally brushing her curved dragon horn. "Ironforge's reactor should be finished manufacturing, but transport poses significant challenges."

Onyxia's tail suddenly coiled possessively around his waist. "So?"

"So—" Deren turned fully, hands cupping her face gently. "I want to request Jaina use mass teleportation to send it directly here."

The Black Dragon Princess's pupils instantly contracted to dangerous slits.

The air froze for three tense seconds.

"You want me to permit you to go out alone with that human princess?" Her voice dropped to dangerously low levels, claws digging into Deren's leather belt hard enough to leave marks. "Is that what you are suggesting?"

"Just teleporting equipment, nothing more—"

"She commands an entire city!" Onyxia suddenly raised her pitch until roof tiles rattled loose from the ceiling. "With fountains! Gardens! That damned bakery you mentioned!"

Deren was shaken, slightly dizzy, blurting out without thinking, "While you only have a stinking dragon lair!"

Time seemed to freeze completely.

Every dragonspawn worker in the vicinity prostrated themselves flat against the ground.

Onyxia's scales bristled fully erect, black flames leaping from fingertips to hair tips. Her dragon eyes burned with lava-like intensity, her throat rumbling with low roars that made Deren's bones vibrate uncomfortably.

"What I mean is—" Deren suddenly stepped forward decisively, forehead pressing against hers. "Precisely because of that, you only have me. And I only have you."

Black flames extinguished abruptly as though doused.

Onyxia's claw still gripped his collar tightly, but the crushing force loosened noticeably. Her eyelashes fluttered rapidly, as if unaccustomed to the suddenly shortened distance between them.

"Come back quickly." Finally she released her iron grip, turning away with affected dignity. "Otherwise I will personally come to Ironforge to fetch you—and burn every dwarf's beard curly while I am there."

Deren smiled softly, reaching toward his waist and pulling out a pendant he had carefully polished from black dragon scale. "Help me keep this safe? Heard dwarves charge excessive tariffs on dragon products."

Onyxia stared at the small object resting in her palm—the scale painstakingly polished into a heart shape, edges inlaid with delicate mithril thread. Her tail tip suddenly perked upward with obvious happiness.

"Go then." She tucked the precious pendant into her innermost scale layer, where it would rest against her heart. "Remember to bring back dwarven mead."

Ironforge's forge district rolled with oppressive heat waves. Deren followed closely behind Jaina, passing countless rows of steam-spouting brass pipes. Dwarves' booming shouts, rhythmic hammer strikes, and lava's constant boiling mixed together into an overwhelming cacophony that trembled eardrums.

"The reactor is just ahead." Jaina's voice cut clearly through the industrial noise. "Magni Bronzebeard personally supervised final assembly himself."

Deren wiped accumulated sweat from his forehead, yet his gaze was drawn irresistibly to a wall tapestry—embroidered with dwarves, humans, and elves drinking together in harmony, with a corner bearing small text: "May the ale never run dry."

"First time visiting Ironforge?" Jaina noticed his distracted gaze.

"Negotiated trades here before, but first time seeing the forge district in person." Deren smiled with genuine appreciation. "Previously only heard about it in sto—in travelers' tales."

Jaina's staff tapped the ground once. A soundproofing barrier quietly expanded outward, surrounding industrial clamor instantly receding to a distant murmur.

"You can speak freely now." She turned sharply, blue eyes directly meeting Deren's with uncomfortable intensity, tone suddenly sharp as winter ice. "How did a Westfall refugee on death's doorstep establish cordial relations with a Black Dragon Princess?"

Deren was inspecting reactor bolts carefully. Hearing this, his wrench nearly slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers. "Uh... extraordinary luck?"

Jaina narrowed her eyes with obvious skepticism. "I conducted a thorough investigation into your background. Deren Lawson, Westfall farmer. Later had land confiscated by corrupt nobles, wandered Westfall for years, and nearly starved to death at Sentinel Hill. Several months ago, you appeared suddenly at Booty Bay accompanied by the Black Dragon Princess herself, pockets stuffed with gold coins sufficient to purchase half the merchant district."

Deren's Adam's apple bobbed nervously. "Trade secret?"

"Then one month ago," Jaina continued relentlessly, "you somehow convinced the Black Dragon Princess to obediently cooperate in negotiations with the goblin baron, even serve as your personal bodyguard." She suddenly stepped uncomfortably closer. "So tell me—is it dark magic? Soul contract? Or..." A glimmer of unmistakable gossip flashed in her eyes. "Does your relationship exceed mere business cooperation?"

In the distance, Magni directed dwarves pouring ale directly into the reactor to test seal integrity—the traditional dwarven quality inspection method. Cheerful dwarven drinking songs were faintly transmitted through the magical barrier, forming a stark contrast with the current tense atmosphere.

Deren fell silent momentarily, then suddenly smiled with disarming charm. "You investigate so thoroughly—could you possibly be interested in me personally?"

Jaina's eyebrow rose dangerously high. "I am seriously considering whether to teleport you directly into molten lava."

"Alright, alright." Deren raised both hands in immediate surrender. "Actually quite simple—I presented her with an offer she could not refuse."

"What offer could possibly move a black dragon?"

"An opportunity to generate substantial wealth. What makes dragons happier than gold coins?" Deren's voice lowered conspiratorially. "Bathing in gold coin piles daily, laughing even in dreams."

Jaina's fingertips condensed an intricate ice rose, expression thoughtful. "So you moved her with an idealistic vision?"

"No." Deren grinned. "I used fertilizer formulas and business projections."

"What?"

"She was desperately bored then with pathetically few gold coins to play with." Deren shrugged casually. "I told her, rather than moldering uselessly in the swamp, partner with me in an agricultural enterprise making fertilizer to earn tremendous money. So we became business partners."

Jaina's expression froze completely. She had imagined various dark contracts, forbidden magical rituals, and even scandalous romantic entanglements, yet never expected the truth to be so utterly... pragmatic and mundane.

Outside the barrier, Magni's booming voice suddenly penetrated the magical dampening. "Human! Come sign these documents! Your big barrel passed inspection!"

Jaina withdrew the soundproofing magic with a gesture, clamor instantly flooding back. Walking toward the receiving desk, she suddenly whispered with unmistakable disappointment, "You know what? I am somewhat disappointed."

"Disappointed?"

"I genuinely thought I would hear more exciting stories." Jaina rarely showed such humanized chagrin. "Like dark rituals performed under blood moons, or forbidden romance."

Deren blinked innocently. "Want me to fabricate one now?"

"Unnecessary." Jaina's staff glowed with teleportation blue light. "But next time Onyxia burns your posterior for flirting, remember to notify me so I can watch."

Deren remained speechless.

That evening Jaina wrote in her private diary: "Investigation results: 1. No dark magic traces detected. 2. No soul contract evident. 3. Suspected mutual flirting behavior observed. Conclusion: More boring than imagined, yet somehow more interesting than politics."

Dustwallow Marsh's receiving area had been cleared into a hundred-yard-diameter open space. Dragonspawn used specially prepared magic powder to outline complex six-pointed star arrays on the ground with meticulous precision. Onyxia stood at the array's exact center, tail impatiently slapping the ground, each strike stirring a circle of dark red sparks that danced briefly before dying.

"Later than planned." She growled at the empty air, claws digging deeply into rock walls, leaving five melted claw marks on stone that still glowed faintly orange.

Suddenly, magic powder at the array's edge ignited without any flame source. Ethereal blue fire lines spread rapidly along runic tracks like living things. The air transmitted crystal-shattering sounds. Space itself was torn open as though by invisible hands—first hairline-thin blue light, then expanding into a massive oval portal, edges dancing with wild arcane lightning.

The portal's interior view twisted and changed like a kaleidoscope, displaying impossible images: Ironforge forge district firelight, snow-covered Dun Morogh peaks, circling gryphon shadows—all scenes reorganizing at dizzying speed. Jaina's staff pierced through the void first, its tip's arcane-infused diamond bursting with brilliance rivaling the sun, illuminating a hundred yards like full daylight.

Arcane energy formed blue ribbons like silk wrapping protectively around the reactor. This several-hundred-ton metal behemoth decomposed into countless glowing light streams, recombining during transmission. Every rivet and every weld was wrapped in honeycomb-like magical matrices, surfaces flowing with tens of thousands of Titan runes—Dalaran's highest-grade spatial stabilization spells in action.

BOOM!

The ground trembled noticeably. The reactor landed precisely at the array's center with perfect accuracy. The instant it touched down, surrounding arcane ribbons exploded like fireworks into countless blue butterflies that scattered beautifully. These magical constructs traced elegant arcs through the air before dissipating into twilight like morning mist.

Deren tumbled awkwardly out from the portal, still draped with undissipated arcane crystals that clung to his clothes. He flailed through three midair somersaults before being steadily caught by Onyxia's tail. Those blue crystals touched black dragon scales, producing sizzling sounds like meat frying in a hot pan.

"Completely intact!" Deren struggled upright, excitedly patting the reactor's shell. The metal surface gleamed with strange blue afterglow. Dwarf craftsman signatures shone prominently in arcane light: "Bronzebeard Family Honor Production, Dragon Breath Certified."

Jaina's figure finally emerged gracefully from the collapsing portal. Her golden hair danced like living things in magical turbulence, every strand adorned with fine starlight. Magical runes on her robe hem had not completely extinguished, burning glowing footprints into muddy ground with each deliberate step. The portal collapsed behind her into a small black hole that swallowed all residual arcane energy before vanishing with a soft pop.

"Remember to settle transport fees promptly." She landed lightly, staff tapping the ground to dismiss the teleportation anchor point. The instant the staff tip contacted the ground, a circle of blue magical ripples spread outward. Wherever they passed, reeds bent by teleportation magic all straightened again naturally. "Theramore harbor always welcomes legitimate trade."

Onyxia suddenly stepped forward, tossing a huge coin pouch flying toward Jaina in a graceful arc through the sunset.

"Next time teleportation fees should include discount." The Black Dragon Princess raised her chin proudly. "Use my personal seal for verification."

The instant Jaina caught the pouch, weak arcane sparks burst between her fingers. She suddenly revealed a rare genuine smile, fine laugh lines appearing at eye corners. "Seems I should seriously consider opening a logistics company." Her staff began radiating homeward blue light, this beam softer like moonlit tide. "I recommend avoiding the reactor for three full days—"

Before she finished speaking, the reactor's relief valve suddenly puffed out steam carrying an unexpected wheat fragrance, condensing in the air into a miniature shape resembling a dwarf's beard.

Onyxia stared at where Jaina had disappeared, pointed dragon ears rotating slightly. "Did she just make a joke?"

Deren laughed, pulling her close. "Even archmages have senses of humor."

Sunset descended magnificently. The reactor's long shadow enveloped the playfully bickering human and dragon, their silhouettes merging into one.