"Neltharion, are you dead yet?"
"If not, grunt."
"Roar—"
"You're not getting it, are you? Can't you just practice your 'playing dead' technique and actually show me? I asked you to grunt, not roar!"
"Roar roar—" The sky echoed with Neltharion's pain and anger.
On an empty balcony in Lordaeron, Duke, seemingly a mere onlooker but the mastermind behind events, shamelessly savored the delicacies left by the estate's owner.
Ah, the prominent Lordaeron noble and his servants had fled in terror to the basement, oblivious that their balcony was occupied by a shameless rogue.
As Duke lounged, sipping warmed wine and nibbling on pastries, a melodious voice, reminiscent of a warbler, spoke from behind.
"Oh, demolishing a palace and still daring to enjoy the view?"
Duke glanced back.
First, his gaze settled on the distinct lines of a toned midriff, then traveled up to the majestic peaks of Mount Hyjal, finally resting on a face that seemed mildly irritated.
"Listen, Alleria, don't get it twisted. It was Deathwing who destroyed the palace. If Terenas isn't pleased, he can send the renovation bill to Neltharion."
Alleria burst into laughter, hands on her hips. Once her laughter subsided, she gracefully sat beside Duke on a velvet couch.
In her calm moments, Alleria was every bit the sophisticated lady. But her wild spirit couldn't be suppressed for long. With a teasing grin, she said, "Duke, you missed an opportunity to 'shelter a beauty in a golden nest', didn't you?"
Duke responded with mock righteousness, recalling the exquisite figure of Princess Calia, "Not every form of love is possession. Sometimes, admiring and letting go is also a way to appreciate beauty. And by the way, your sister Lirath is with Calia!"
"Okay, okay, I'm not really jealous. I recognize you as the true hero of the Alliance!" Alleria leaned in and gave Duke a passionate kiss.
"That's more like it."
After their kiss, Alleria murmured, "For someone who's seen through life's facades like me to be so smitten by you, Calia might just fall harder for you."
"What was that?" Duke didn't catch her words.
"Nothing! Just wondering why Neltharion isn't dead yet." Alleria quickly diverted his attention.
"It's not that simple. Neltharion has cards up his sleeve, and Alexstrasza and the others know it." If no external force intervened, given the slight difference in individual strengths, Neltharion should've fallen long ago, without awaiting a later cataclysm.
However...
Footsteps echoed from the stairs behind them.
"Duke, you're here watching this drama unfold?" The loud voice was unmistakably Lothar's.
Not just Lothar. Duke was surprised to see Windsor leading Llane, followed by Daelin, the Bronzebeard brothers, Gelbin, and Kurdran.
Below, guards from various nations ensured the house was impenetrable.
"Hey! You all..." Duke began, giving Lothar a reproachful look.
King Llane spoke, "Don't blame Anduin. We know you meant well by telling us to take refuge. But watching the show while we shiver in the basement, doesn't that tarnish the Alliance's reputation?"
Duke blinked, "Llane, you have a point."
Daelin approached, lightly thumping Duke's chest, "You're not playing fair! Such a big deal with Deathwing and you didn't inform us. On your account, we openly offended old Terenas."
By Daelin's tone, he clearly no longer held the King of the mighty Lordaeron in high regard.
Magni added, clapping Duke's back, "Aren't you afraid one of us might not make it?"
Duke retorted, "Nonsense. With the blessings of the Titans, even Neltharion's breath can't kill you."
Magni seemed convinced, "If Neltharion would just stay grounded, I'd show you how I slay a dragon."
Really, Magni? Overconfidence much?
Duke rolled his eyes.
Gelbin shared his concerns, "Isn't it problematic to have the five Dragon Aspects battle above Lordaeron?"
Alleria scoffed, "From the moment Duke discovered Neltharion, he hasn't left Lordaeron."
Feeling deflated, Gelbin remarked, "I wonder what the Alliance will become."
Lothar chimed in, "We all do."
All eyes turned to Duke.
Where most would've been intimidated by the gathering of such elite, Duke remained composed. His confident smile and deep black eyes were filled with certainty about the future.
"Under the pressure of powerful foreign invaders, nations will naturally band together. But once the external pressure is gone, they'll reveal their true colors. They see only their country's current losses, blind to future dangers."
"Dangers?" Kurdran queried.
Duke looked southward, seemingly through the continent, to the massive gateway in the desolate red land.
"Have you noticed that the Dark Portal can't be destroyed?"
A collective gasp ensued.
Llane queried, "You mean..."
"Orcs aren't extinct. If there's a warlock as powerful as Gul'dan on Draenor, the Dark Portal might reopen. But what emerges next time, I can't predict."
A chilling silence followed.
Duke continued, "The Alliance must cleanse itself, unite even more, to truly be reborn."