Illidan

21

The harsh sun blazed down on the parched earth of Hellfire Peninsula, drying the blood almost as soon as it fell. Vandel chopped down the last of the demons, then walked over to retrieve his dagger from the eye of the one he had slain with a throw.

Looking around, he could see they had achieved their objective. Lord Illidan stood beside the palanquins the demons had fought so hard to protect, arms folded across his chest, wings spread wide in triumph.

The corpses of demons lay everywhere, slaughtered by the Illidari. Vandel’s demon whispered hungrily in his mind. He fought the urge to gulp down demon flesh and instead climbed up a huge boulder and studied the battleground. He nodded at one of the new crop of demon hunters who had joined the ranks since the battle with the nathrezim. In the month since, they had almost replaced the casualties of that great battle in the archive of the dreadlords.

They had lost more soldiers since that battle. It sometimes seemed that in the weeks that followed, they had never stopped fighting. That was not quite true. There had been a period when Illidan had retreated within his sanctum to consider his next move. For days they had done nothing but train and oversee the new recruits. Then the Betrayer had emerged with a new plan, and they had spent almost all their time in lightning raids against the Burning Legion.

They must have fought a score of battles. They had attacked forge camps in Nagrand, and ambushed convoys passing through the Netherstorm. Time and again they had intercepted forces passing through Hellfire Peninsula.

Some of the fights had been to close down portals the Legion opened into Outland. The logic of that was clear. No doubt the masters of the Burning Legion thirsted for vengeance against Illidan. Their incursions had become ever more numerous. Their forces ever stronger.

That had not been all of it, though. Some new portals had been opened into places Vandel recognized in Azeroth: Winterspring and Azshara. Illidan had insisted that the demon hunters close those and claim certain magical crystals used in their creation. He said the Legion had been launching invasions into Azeroth from Outland and this needed to be stopped.

It was clear that the demons were planning another great assault. Not all of their gates could be closed. They had established mighty beachheads in the Blade’s Edge Mountains and on the very edges of Nagrand. From what Vandel had overheard, there were more forge camps Illidan’s forces had never seen and perhaps were never likely to.

It was equally clear that Lord Illidan was seeking materials to create something. If forced to make a guess, Vandel would have said he was collecting components for another gateway such as the one he had opened to Nathreza. Vandel had heard some of the others, the ones knowledgeable about such things, mention this, and it seemed as good a theory as any.

Vandel would not have been surprised to discover that they would find more of the crystals in the metal coffins this force had been escorting, along with other pieces of magical equipment that could be scavenged.

Since his memorable speech after the battle, Lord Illidan had not seen fit to enlighten them any further as to his ultimate plan. He had merely dispatched them hither and yon to strike at the Legion, sometimes leading them himself, sometimes letting Elarisiel or Vandel take charge. There was no rhyme or reason to Illidan accompanying them. Sometimes the battles he led them into were little more than slaughters of fel orcs still loyal to the Burning Legion. Sometimes he was not with them when they faced their toughest opposition. Rumor had it that he worked strange rituals when the stars were right, that he was creating some work of sorcery that would lead them to inevitable victory.

Below, Illidan studied the remains of the palanquins they had ambushed. Each of the coffins had been borne by half a dozen demonic servitors, and each of them now lay in the dust, their gleaming metallic sides losing their luster.

Before Illidan a fel orc hovered in the air, one of the Legion’s soldiers, bound by the Betrayer’s magic.

Vandel vaulted down the rocks, leaping from boulder to boulder, passing over precipices where the slightest misstep would send him plunging to his doom. He hit the ground rolling, sprang to his feet, and strode over to Lord Illidan’s side.

“Anything to report, nightstalker?” the Betrayer asked. As ever he seemed to know that Vandel was there without having to look. It was less disconcerting now that Vandel knew how the trick was done and could do it himself.

“The perimeters are secure, Lord, and we do not appear to be under immediate threat.”

“I would not be too sure of that if I were you,” Illidan said.

“Lord?”

“I think the Burning Legion has finally worked out what I am doing.”

“How would they do that, Lord?”

“Perhaps they have spies left in our ranks. Only one of these canisters contains the helstones I seek. The rest are filled with rocks.”

“How can you tell?”

“Use the sight the ritual gave you.”

Vandel concentrated on the metal cylinders and saw immediately what his overlord had meant. One of them blazed with contained energy as if filled to the brim with scintillant crystals. The others did not burn nearly so bright. They contained no trapped magical energy that Illidan could use for whatever it was he planned.

As if to prove his point, Illidan leaned forward and wrenched one open. Glittering gemstones rolled out, but so did a number of glassy shards. One who did not possess the spectral sight of a demon hunter might have been fooled, but one who could see the presence of magic itself was not deceived.

“You think this is a trap then?”

“Possibly, or merely a deception intended to lure us to a different place while the real cargo goes by another route. I think this highlord Kruul I have been hearing so much about is cleverer than the Legion’s former field commanders.”

“Who is he?” Vandel asked.

“Let us find out,” Illidan said. He turned to the fel orc, who floated in the air, wrapped in chains of energy. His face twisted into a defiant sneer.

“I know you, Betrayer. You are well named.”

“If I had a copper for every time I have heard that, I could build a tower of coins to the nearest moon,” Illidan said. “I wish my enemies could come up with something more original.”

The fel orc tried to spit at Illidan, but his saliva sizzled and evaporated when it hit an energy chain. “Tell me of Highlord Kruul,” Illidan said. “I would know more of your new general.”

“I will tell you nothing,” said the fel orc. “I do not fear any torture you can inflict.”

“As you wish.” Illidan gestured. Magical energy surged from his outstretched hands to the fel orc’s head. The chains pulsed brighter. The fel orc screamed. His spirit departed, leaving only a shell. Vandel could see that.

Illidan said, “Tell me of Highlord Kruul.”

The corpse opened its mouth and laughed. “No need, Betrayer. No need. He approaches. Ask him yourself.”

Magical energy pulsed from within the metal cylinders, visible as light to Vandel’s altered vision. It swirled into the air, forming a shimmering vortex. A moment later, a portal sprang into being where the power coalesced. A blast of furnace-like heat filled the air, driving the Illidari back and incinerating the fel orc’s corpse.

An enormous figure emerged, flanked by two blazing infernals.

He looked like a doomguard, Vandel thought, but larger. He had horns like a tauren, massive, bison-like. Huge wings draped his back. Yellow demonic runes glared on his bracers. In his right hand he clutched a gigantic black blade on which runes pulsed in subdued blue. The sword looked large enough to take down an Ashenvale oak with one swipe.

“So you are the one who defeated Magtheridon,” the demon said. “You don’t look like much.”

His voice boomed brazenly over the battlefield. Flames trailed behind him when he walked, as if the very ground could not bear the touch of his hooves without combusting in fear.

It said something of Kruul’s confidence that he was prepared to face an army of demon hunters only with his infernal bodyguards. Looking at him, Vandel judged his self-assurance justified. He blazed with power. Currents of potent magic swirled around him.

“And you look like just another doomguard,” Illidan said. “Have you come to see if you can get vengeance for the doom of your brethren’s homeworld?”

Kruul’s laughter rang out. “That was well done. Destruction wreaked upon the destroyers. But, no, I have not come to seek vengeance. I have come to kill you.”

Illidan unsheathed his warglaives. “Others have tried. I shall pen you beside Magtheridon and use your blood to build my armies.”

“My blood would burn your little pets. You would only have charred husks to serve you.”

As the gigantic doomguard spoke, more and more infernals poured through the portal. Their skin blazed with searing heat. They seemed to grow stronger in Kruul’s presence.

In the hills around them, Vandel sensed the Illidari moving into position. They were ready to attack.

“I have charted the portals you have been opening,” Illidan said. “You have been busy. Ironforge, Stormwind City, Orgrimmar. Silithus. The Plaguelands. You seek to invade Azeroth once more, do you not?”

Highlord Kruul merely bared his massive teeth. “And I have studied your reaving of our forces, and I see a pattern to it. You seek to build another gateway, don’t you? Ah, but to where, is the question. I have heard of your boasting. Could it be you are truly mad enough to seek Argus?”

“Perhaps we will discuss this while I have you imprisoned in Hellfire Citadel.”

“I fear that your time for discussion has run out.” Even as Kruul spoke, a massive core hound appeared from the portal. Its red skin blazed with fire. Two heads emerged from its gigantic shoulders. Their monstrous jaws made those of a felhound look feeble. Metallic armor encased its heavy shoulders and forelimbs.

It bounded forward to attack even as Kruul sent a bolt of dark energy hurtling toward Illidan. The lord of Outland leapt into the air and avoided it. It smashed into the rocks behind where he had stood. They turned to dust, as if they had suffered a million years of erosion in a moment.

Vandel found himself face-to-face with Kruul’s demonic pet. Its jaws gaped. Lava bubbled within them.

The infernals lumbered toward him. Vandel vaulted over the core hound. His feet briefly touched the hot metal of its armor. He propelled himself into the air before they had time to scorch. As he did so he sent his own bolt of fel energy blazing down into the demon. It struck one of the heads and elicited a brief scream. The thing’s skin darkened at the point of contact and began to putrefy.

From the slopes, a dozen demon hunters joined in, sending a fusillade of fel energy into the core hound’s skin, smashing into the infernals and sapping them of life.

Kruul swept his blade through the air and invoked his power. A hail of shadow energy lashed out. A volley of bolts hurtled at the demon hunters. Some fell wounded. Others slumped to the ground. Kruul seemed to visibly swell as he feasted on their deaths. Behind him the gigantic portal still blazed.

Vandel somersaulted at the top of his arc, pulled his blades clear of their sheaths, and dropped onto the demonic hound’s back. Pain flared where his skin touched the creature’s burning flesh. He aimed for a weak spot in the armor and drove his blades in. There was a satisfying crunch as points punched through scaled flesh. Molten ichor spurted, searing his skin. He vaulted clear of the beast and rolled to one side, narrowly avoiding the trampling feet of a gigantic infernal.

He dived between the demon’s legs, ignoring the scorching heat. His movements took him closer to Kruul. The doomguard paid him no mind. All his attention seemed focused on Illidan.

Magical energies swirled around the lord of Outland, gathering in a thunderhead of power as he invoked them. More demon hunters emerged from the hillside, moving to engage the infernals and the core hound. Some of them dared race forward to challenge Kruul himself.

Kruul flexed his wings and there came a sound like thunder. Those nearest the demon were thrown back. Their movements were slowed. For combatants who relied so much on mobility, this made them vulnerable. Kruul’s monstrous blade swept out and chopped an attacker in half. The demon hunter’s blood vanished as if the runes on the blade had absorbed it, and Kruul grew visibly stronger.

The demon inside Vandel stirred at the sight of all this death. It longed to feed as Kruul fed. Vandel channeled all his rage into another fel bolt and lashed out at Kruul. The magical energies splintered on whatever aura protected the demon lord. Kruul raised his blade, pointed it at Illidan, and sent another titanic bolt of shadowy energy blazing up at his opponent. Illidan deflected it with a counterspell.

A low growl from behind told Vandel that the core hound had returned to seek prey. He flipped himself around to face it. Half of one of its heads had been torn away. Molten ichor spilled from several wounds in its side.

Still the creature’s unnatural vitality kept it moving. It bounded toward him, mouths gaping, flames leaking around its teeth. He leapt to meet it. His blades snapped home, piercing each eye of one head, and then he jumped away to the creature’s blind side, scampering quickly to keep out of its line of sight. The creature turned. Its nostrils dilated as it sniffed the air, attempting to find him.

Enraged, Kruul smashed through the demon hunters. They did their best to leap clear, but his blade slew two more. Their strikes seemed to have no more effect on him than gnat bites.

The core hound put its noses to the ground and kept sniffing. It began to move in Vandel’s direction. He sent a bolt of fel energy lashing at it, and kept the beam playing on the creature, draining its life away. From the air above came a titanic surge of power as Illidan finally unleashed the spell he had been weaving. The enormous bolt of hellfire smashed into Kruul and sent him sprawling.

“No! That is not possible.” The highlord’s booming voice echoed across the battlefield. There was pain in it, and a massive gap in his armored chest piece where the bolt had struck home. Venomous smoke emerged from the gap, and wounded flesh pulsed within.

Kruul raised himself up and sprang toward the blazing portal. It closed behind him. Vandel stabbed the demon hound through the chest and left his blade buried in its heart. The infernal bodyguards collapsed into piles of rocks.

The Illidari gathered their wounded and their dead and prepared to depart the battlefield.

Illidan studied the remains of the carnage. Kruul had been strong, no doubt of that, and he had been cunning. This trap had been set with care, and only the fact that Kruul had misjudged Illidan’s strength had let him escape its jaws.

It was only a matter of time before a new invasion of Azeroth began. Perhaps that was to the good. It would distract the Legion while Illidan finalized his own designs. It troubled him that Kruul had mentioned his plan to seek out Argus. He should not have boasted about that before he was ready to strike. That had been a mistake. He had let the thrill of triumph overcome his reason when he had done that.

Additionally, he felt there was more going on here than met the eye. He was missing something, and the feeling of it gnawed at him.

It was time to go back to the Black Temple and complete the preparations as fast as he could. The hour was getting late, and he could not afford to have anything go wrong now.