Stormwind Wizard God-Chapter 833: Time

Did the Eredar Twins suspect Duke? The answer was a resounding yes! The timing of the "plague" incident was simply too sensitive, too perfectly aligned. The countless operations behind enemy lines had ingrained in the Twins a chilling certainty: a secret had been leaked, and someone was orchestrating this peculiar, un-elven method to evacuate the civilian population.

Yet, no matter how the Twins analyzed it, they could not bring themselves to truly suspect Duke. His dedication to the grand cause of opening the portal was absolute, his focus unwavering. Duke’s mastery of spatial teleportation was so profound, in many aspects surpassing even the professional Eredar warlocks, that he was now in sole command of all portal-related matters. If anyone had dared to suggest to the Twins that Duke was secretly orchestrating the evacuation, they would have been the first to dismiss it as ludicrous. After all, it was a glaring contradiction. The evacuation was temporary, at best. The destruction and death brought by the Burning Legion were eternal. What Duke was doing was accelerating the demise of this planet. Once Duke had fully calibrated the colossal portal, built upon the very Well of Eternity, and successfully teleported Archimonde, or even Sargeras himself, the fate of Azeroth would be sealed.

At this moment, Duke’s performance was that of a flawlessly loyal servant of the Burning Legion. The Twins merely probed, then shifted their attention to the high elves, whom they considered the most unreliable. Most of the Queen’s faction were madmen, consumed by their pursuit of power. They cared nothing for the lives of the lower classes. As long as they could attain power beyond their limits, their insatiable hunger would be sated.

Gazing upon these ignorant fools who worshipped Sargeras as their creator and god, the Eredar Twins exchanged contemptuous sneers.

"Fools! Just hope and wait!" Auresthes giggled, a chilling sound.

"After your planet is consumed, you will likely wear the same expressions as those idiots who came before you." Queen Sarolas’s voice dripped with undisguised disdain.

"Perhaps, among these creatures who call themselves high elves, another great lord of the void will emerge."

"There is only one Infernal Affairs!"

What was truly ironic was that, despite encountering countless civilizations and obliterating innumerable planets, the Eredar still, to this very moment, failed to grasp the true meaning of those three words: "Infernal Affairs."

The Burning Legion’s invasion continued its relentless march. Every night, at the precise, most opportune moment for portal opening, gateways materialized, one after another. From small portals, barely larger than the entrance to a palace side hall, to colossal rifts, 20 meters wide and 60 meters high, the elite demons of the Burning Legion streamed forth in an endless tide. Uncharacteristically, these demons did not immediately unleash their fury. Instead, they were packed like sardines, densely crammed into the royal palace of Azshara City.

"Coward! This is an act of utter cowardice!" Mannoroth’s roar reverberated, shaking the entire underground palace. From the hundred-meter-high ceiling, dust and sand rained down. The Lord of the Abyss brandished his double-headed sword, but he dared only to swing it in place, like a performer, not daring to advance its tip by even half an inch. For standing before him was a seemingly insignificant being—Duke!

"Fool! Even Lord Archimonde himself commanded you to accept my authority. Both commanders have unanimously prioritized opening the largest portal. This proves, beyond any doubt, that the importance of Planet Azeroth far surpasses the comprehension of a pig-headed demon like you!" Duke acted the part of a genuine Void Lord, mercilessly berating Mannoroth, his defeated subordinate.

"But look at these demons! Are they still the glorious warriors of the Burning Legion? They are less than dogs!" Mannoroth, though furious, dared not challenge Duke’s absolute majesty. He was not entirely stupid. He changed tactics, subtly pleading for a fight.

Duke glanced at the colossal portal nearby, nearing completion under the tireless efforts of the Burning Legion’s dark craftsmen. "Fine. If I leave you here, you’ll just stand around like an idiot, incapable of guarding the portal. So, take your Abyss Lords and wreak havoc. Do whatever you desire. The more chaos, the better!"

Anyone could clearly discern the biting sarcasm in Duke’s words, yet Mannoroth reacted as if he had been granted the greatest pardon, happily leading his lesser brethren to their destructive work.

"Kazak, Kazzak! Guard this place for me!" Duke commanded, without even turning his head.

"Yes!"

"Understood!"

With two immediate affirmations, these two Doomguard Lords, who would be "slain" ten thousand years later at Mount Hyjal, obeyed Duke’s commands like loyal hounds at this point in time, long before their historical demise. The scene was truly farcical!

An hour later, every night elf in the Kaldorei Empire was suddenly gripped by an unsettling alarm. They lifted their heads, their senses reeling. The world, bustling and vibrant moments before, had inexplicably descended into a profound stillness. There was no night wind; every leaf in the forest outside their windows hung limp. No rustling, no chirping of insects, only the loving, ethereal light of the moon goddess Elune, pouring down in silver shafts, caressing the faces of the night elves. The expensive magic lamps, which never dimmed without reason, lost their luster. Every elven city, usually a beacon of endless activity, fell into a brief, eerie silence.

"What happened?"

"Where is the magic of the Well of Eternity!?"

In the deepening darkness, countless elves cried out in panic. But their fear and restlessness stood in stark contrast to the dim, lifeless magical conduits beneath the city, utterly devoid of even a ripple of energy. At this moment, every elf felt their familiar world twisting, deviating. The magic, once so ubiquitous and powerful, was abandoning them, as if threatened by the very goddess of fate.

In the encroaching gloom, something sinister seemed to be approaching, a terrifying presence awaiting them at the crossroads of destiny. An invisible, malevolent hand was secretly guiding and manipulating everything with its unmatched power. The elven arcanists instinctively glanced around, only to discover that many of the monsters previously imprisoned in their magical cells—from the smallest mana dragons to colossal dragon beasts—had burst free. Unexpectedly, these creatures, expected to immediately turn on their former captors and exact revenge, were instead trembling, even running in panicked disarray. None seemed to notice that they were desperately trying to flee Azshara City...

The hearts of all elves capable of sensing magic pounded violently, for in that instant, every single wizard in the entire Kaldorei Empire was forcibly severed from the Well of Eternity, simultaneously.