Chapter 604

Chapter 604: Different Paths, Same Destination

When Jesse first heard about the necromancer, he almost thought the order mentioned Ner’zhul.

When the Dark Portal closed, Ner’zhul was the Great Chief of the Draenor tribe. Months earlier, the entire Kingdom of Stormwind had felt the tearing of fel magic and shadow… all because he activated three great artifacts on the Dark Portal’s other side, trying to teleport the tribe to another world. That act tore Draenor apart.

Was he dead?

According to another timeline’s history, he entered the Twisting Nether using the Scepter of Sargeras’s power but was captured by Kil’jaeden.

To punish his betrayal, Kil’jaeden destroyed his body, imprisoned his soul in ice, and cast it into Northrend to become the Lich King.

By now, it was the ninth year since the Dark Portal closed, soon to be the tenth. Had Ner’zhul already become the Lich King? How much time had passed from Ner’zhul’s flight to the Twisting Nether until Kil’jaeden captured those Orcs…?

Jesse knew nothing about it.

After the Dark Portal closed, he’d heard no news from Northrend. Northrend was isolated; its humans were mostly fishermen or reclusive village hunters. The only settlement resembling a town, Wintergrasp, rarely communicated with this side.

Jesse recalled last meeting a Northrend native at Sentinel Hill—a mercenary encountered while heading to Duskwood with Greed to gather Grave Moss.

“Give me that scroll, Molofeel,” Jesse said.

The succubus handed it over. Jesse stroked it carefully, sniffed the demon blood traces, and asked, “How long ago were these words written?”

“Hard to say exactly, master,” Molofeel admitted.

“Roughly?” Jesse pressed.

“Five hundred to a thousand years,” the succubus answered.

“Too broad—centuries is a huge span,” Vereesa remarked. “Could it be within a year?” Jesse asked.

“Impossible,” the succubus replied instantly. “If that recent, the blood wouldn’t smell like this. It’s Morg demon blood—I know this scent well.”

Vereesa nodded. “This bundle was likely preserved in the demon’s belly over a year.”

“A centuries-old necromancer,” Jesse muttered, turning to Vereesa. “Any ideas? Could be Quel’Thalas…”

“A necromancer hiding in Eversong Woods would draw attention, Jesse,” Vereesa said. “Even shadow mages’ void experiments don’t escape spellbreakers’ watch, let alone soul-talking or raising dead. Maybe someone that monstrous hid there, but I doubt it—especially undetected for a millennium.”

“What about these?” Jesse shook the scroll, scanning its contents.

Molofeel pointed to a line. “Here it mentions a trapped soul in Nathrezim. The rest is mostly Ered’ruin.”

Jesse frowned, reading aloud: “Trapped soul… centuries ago… necromancer… Nathrezim…”

“If this necromancer existed centuries back, ask the Kirin Tor, Jesse,” Vereesa suggested, rubbing her leg. “Five hundred years ago, Quel’Thalas focused on the Amani Empire. The Reliquary was far smaller than now—I question if it even existed then.”

“What would the Kirin Tor know?” Molofeel asked.

Vereesa explained, “Back then, the Council of Tirisfal had battled your Sayaad demons and their undead creations for a millennium. The last Tirisfal Guardian, Master Aegwynn, inherited her position eight centuries ago—the system was mature by then. The Kirin Tor manages the Council’s relics and surely has records in Dalaran’s Grand Library.”

“Vereesa’s right,” Jesse pondered.

“What of the other two scrolls?” He gestured at them.

The succubus shook her head. “Both are in Ered’ruin, master. Only scraps of Demonic—connective phrases. I can’t decipher them. Show them to that imp if needed.”

“He never claimed to know Doomguard’s tongue,” Jesse murmured absently. “Never mind—I’ll study this first.”

“If you’re free, help me extract this demon heart, Sayaad,” Vereesa told the succubus. “Its ribs are sturdier than I thought… with lingering arcane residue…”

“I drained this demon’s magic already,” the succubus retorted, twirling the black blade of Tosrezm. “Clearly, you’re just out of strength.”

Vereesa shot a displeased glare at her, raised her long knife, and stabbed into the demon’s chest while whispering, “Stop chattering and help out fast. Be careful not to damage the heart.”

“Are you worried that a powerful succubus like me can’t pull out the heart whole?” The succubus said as she crouched next to the ranger and leaned close to the demon’s cut-open chest.

They both worked while muttering, and the succubus suddenly laughed. Vereesa complained angrily, but Jesse didn’t care to listen to their talk. He stood aside, deep in thought about all the necromancers in the game.

Then, he even thought of Kel’Thuzad, but he was still far from being a “necromancer.” At best, he was just a Kirin Tor Mage interested in necromancy.

Of course, Kel’Thuzad was only a human in his fifties or sixties, nowhere near the eight-century gap. Could it be a Dread Lord?

Every strong Nathrezim, by Azeroth or Burning Legion rules, could surely be called a necromancer. They brought back the dead, grabbed souls, and sucked blood…

In truth, Jesse missed another powerful necromancer: Kil’jaeden. But next to Kil’jaeden’s power, magic, and other skills, his necromancy knowledge wasn’t much.

Still, the making of all orc Death Knights, including Teron Gorefiend, and the rise of the Lich King were all tied to him. Yet it can’t be ignored that the Eredar were the first race to study necromancy.

Jesse cast Arcane Intellect on himself, sat down, and kept thinking, digging up every memory from his past and this life, trying to link it all.

Not sure if it was the Arcane Intellect working, but after sitting and pondering a bit, he suddenly remembered a clue he’d found not long ago.

Jesse jolted awake, flipped open his satchel, and rummaged through it. After hunting through several things, he finally found the Karazhan treasure hunter’s manual he’d saved.

He didn’t dare leave this in his Stormwind rented room, so he always carried it with him.

He flipped to the last page, stared at the name in Demonic, and murmured, “Ulthalesh.” “Ulthalesh?” Molofeel glanced over at the name.

“You know this name?” Jesse asked.

“This is a very special Nathrezim name, master,” Molofeel said. “I once had an Eredar warlock master dead set on finding a demonic artifact called Ulthalesh. They say this weapon took countless strong demon souls, many of them its old masters. Long ago, the Burning Legion’s boss gave it to an Eredar necromancer for a big job, but nobody knows what happened to that necromancer after.”

Vereesa, who’d just wrapped up the pulled-out demon heart, cut in after hearing the succubus, “Is it the same necromancer?”

“How could she be in this world?” Molofeel glanced at her, then seemed to get an idea and turned to Jesse. “Master, you know the artifact’s story, so you thought of this necromancer?”

“I’ve heard a bit, since I know so many demons and warlocks,” Jesse said. “But maybe I’m overthinking it.” Molofeel squinted like she caught on, but after Jesse stared at her hard for a moment, she didn’t dare say more. Because Jesse wasn’t wrong; that Eredar necromancer was sent to Azeroth by the Dark Titan with Ulthalesh to wreck things.

He looked at the scroll again, seeing all the weird symbols he couldn’t read. Could it tie to Ulthalesh?

Did Dethmoora’s master or boss want her to find this necromancer and grab Ulthalesh back? Or kill him to clean up for the Burning Legion? After all, Jesse recalled that this Eredar necromancer later turned on the Burning Legion…

So Dethmoora must’ve been swamped, trying to summon Archimonde while taking Twisting Nether jobs to run all over Azeroth, cleaning up messes for the Burning Legion.

No wonder she talked to warlocks from another land and wrote so many books to spread demon knowledge in Azeroth.

Not just that, she also had to outsmart the Highborne of Eldre’Thalas, Kaldorei search teams, and even the Council of Tirisfal, all while getting yelled at.

It was truly a ten-thousand-year torture.

But a demon’s power has limits. If Jesse’s group hadn’t shown up, she’d likely have been summoned and controlled by Satyrs in Maraudon, forced to spill where all demon and Highborne artifacts were, including Ulthalesh.

Wait, were those Satyrs after Ulthalesh too? That would need reading all they wrote.

With so much on his mind, Jesse grew scared he’d turn dumb once Arcane Intellect faded. Malin was right; the more you used Arcane Intellect, the more you risked cracking up.

Of course, Arcane Intellect, no matter how strong, just helps you remember better, recall the past clearer, and think quicker. It doesn’t dig up things you don’t know. Without learning Ered’ruin’s rare tongues, you couldn’t read the rest of the scroll.

So the Satyrs’ way was smarter: summon Dethmoora, hold her, and question her.

Jesse calmed down, tucked the scroll away with the others in his satchel, and swallowed. Then he eyed the small black dagger in his hand.

If in the game, the Satyrs summoned Dethmoora to Maraudon, could this dagger be the purple weapon "Blade of Eternal Darkness" that deals shadow damage and drains mana?

Jesse’s eyebrows lifted as he saw how it all fit.