CHAPTER 727: RECKONING

The elves on the seashore, hundreds of miles away, could clearly see the column of light rising into the sky. Looking at those strange, ominous black and green rainbows, the more timid elves’ legs began to tremble, and cold sweat beaded on their backs. Even though they knew this was the safe area declared by the National Salvation Committee, some elves still fled in panic, heading away from the Sunwell.

Of course, a greater number of elves stared blankly at the column of light, their expressions complex. The glory of the Sunwell had favored the High Elves for nearly seven millennia. Very few of the ancient elves who had witnessed its birth remained; most had perished, not due to old age, but lost in the nearly four thousand years of war with the trolls. The survivors had largely become elders of various minor families. Those who managed to endure the Scourge invasion were exceedingly rare. Almost every new generation of elves had grown up under the Sunwell’s radiant glory.

Under the protection of its colossal magic circle, they had enjoyed over 2,800 years of comfort, until the two wars at the Dark Portal utterly shattered their fantasy of living a decadent life, hidden within a safe, protective shell. The expressions on their faces were profoundly complicated. Had Sylvanas not appeared out of nowhere, they might not have known where their future would lead them.

The dark green water vapor swirling in the sky seemed to form the grinning visage of the Lich King Ner’zhul. More than one elf saw a massive skull silently laughing in a trance. And amidst the skull’s wild laughter, a second wave of terror struck. Seeing the beam of light was a visual experience. Feeling the vibration was tactile. This more direct physical sensation delivered an even more terrifying shock to the elves!

Boom! Boom!

The island of Quel’Danas was shaking violently, with vibrations more intense than an earthquake, directly causing a tsunami. It was as if an ancient behemoth, as vast as the sky and earth, was awakening from the seabed, unleashing bursts of roars.

"Ahhhh—" an elven child screamed.

"Don’t be afraid! Lady Sylvanas, who will soon be queen, will protect us," the mother comforted her child.

But it was no use.

"Don’t be afraid! Duke, who used the battle flag to repel the evil orcs, will protect us."

Miraculously, even though the children were still sniffling, they actually stopped crying. Whether they liked it or not, in the hearts of the elves, Duke, who had saved Quel’Thalas twice, had become a sacred name.

The colossal waves caused by the tsunami surged towards the seashore in an overwhelming manner. If not for the scene that followed, this would undoubtedly have been an utterly catastrophic disaster.

Out of nowhere, an immense, 1,000-meter-high air curtain wall suddenly materialized along the coastline, separating the entire beach from the sea. Astonishing waves, more than ten meters high, crashed against the surface of the air curtain wall. Only golden magic runes briefly appeared, then vanished again as the waves receded. With the crash of each huge wave, the runes would appear and disappear repeatedly.

After explanations from the elves’ mid-level commanders, the civilians finally understood why they had been evacuated here. This was a magic circle left by Dath’Remar in the distant past, designed to protect the people at the last moment, should the Sunwell’s magic ever spiral out of control and necessitate an elven evacuation. Although the magic circle was powered by the Sunwell’s own energy, it operated independently and only needed to be recharged once a year to ensure it could be activated at any time within the subsequent year.

Tens of thousands of elves, protected by the magic circle, silently watched the Sunwell descend into destruction. That was... the end of an era!

The hot, turbid well water gushed into the sky, and its scorching breath swept across the entire firmament. Occasionally, a bird would fly by, only to be immediately consumed by the flames, leaving nothing behind.

Wow!

The water in the Sunwell, over a kilometer in diameter, was boiling and surging. At first glance, the water in the well was flowing counter-clockwise, forming a colossal vortex. However, near the island where Duke stood, the well water was flowing in a clockwise direction, stimulated by the magic circle.

Under the astonished gaze of Kael’thas and the other elves, the Sunwell’s water behaved like two gears of different diameters and mismatched threads, colliding and grinding against each other at the intersection of the two streams.

"This is..." Kael’thas’s eyes were filled with disbelief.

The inner circle, centered on Duke, became clearer and brighter under high-speed rotation, while the outer circle grew more turbid and darker. Initially, everyone thought it was an illusion, but soon, as they witnessed the stark contrast between the inner and outer circles, it became clear enough to be seen with the naked eye.

Suddenly, the magic runes on the massive well wall in the northwest of the Sunwell flickered continuously. After a few breaths, several sections of the well wall collapsed. A turbid torrent, at least a hundred meters in diameter, shot out from the gap with a deafening "sizzling" sound.

"No—it shouldn’t be like this!"

Very abruptly, the will of the Lich King descended again. The image of the white skull in the void was very blurry, but the sharp voice and the common language with a strong Orcish accent undoubtedly confirmed his identity.

"Duke—you actually broke my hidden hand!?"

"So what?" On the island within the well, a colossal phantom of Duke stood up, a look of deep disdain on its face.

"No... not so good." Unexpectedly, Ner’zhul’s reaction was... laughter!?

"Oh?"

"I despise a degraded imitation of the Sunwell. You can save it if you want. But you’ll soon know what I’m going to do. Haha! Hahahaha!" With a burst of laughter, the Lich King’s will arrived swiftly, but also vanished just as quickly.

To others, Ner’zhul had merely appeared for show. Only Duke understood the true meaning of Ner’zhul’s words. It seemed that, just as in history, Archimonde, one of the three great leaders of the Burning Legion, was about to arrive. And what Archimonde was eyeing was certainly not the Sunwell, made from a mere cup of water from the Well of Eternity.

At least Ner’zhul wasn’t wrong. Even the current Well of Eternity was a replica of the original. How could Archimonde be interested in a replica of a replica? Fortunately, if the Lich King didn’t interfere, Duke would have a better chance of conquering the Sunwell.

Duke vigorously raised his right hand and made a pushing motion. Simultaneously, the hundred-meter-tall Duke’s phantom mirrored the action. For a moment, the gushing Sunwell sewage began to spin wildly on the seashore of Quel’Danas Island, like a whirlpool, sucking in everything around it. Trees, grass, seashore sand, and even larger, rugged rocks—everything was crushed and then continuously churned in the vortex.

Gradually, a ball larger than a hill appeared.

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