Chapter 655

Chapter 655: Shaking Your Will

Leaving the dark room, Jesse felt disappointed. When Nekros had promised a tour, Jesse thought the Warlord would personally show him the Red Dragon Queen. Instead, Nekros sent his son. Even if Nek’rosh brought him to see her, it would be pointless without Nekros present and without the Demon Soul. Everything felt wasted.

He cared nothing for how many Orcs defended Grim Batol or whether they could withstand the Alliance. The tour became long and boring—repetitive dwarf statues, houses, walls, chaotic chasms, and ruins.

Reaching the lowest level, Nek’rosh led him into a hall as vast as Khadros’ anvil. Stepping inside, a wave of intense energy struck Jesse. Blinding crimson light momentarily obscured his vision.

"This is the Hatching Chamber." Nek’rosh pointed below at the countless red dragon eggs filling the hall. Their overwhelming life force radiated so powerfully that even Molofeel grew uncomfortable nearby.

Each egg was full and beautiful, its rough shell covered in dark red spikes and crimson mana crystals. Given a few years, this Warlord could truly raise a powerful red dragon legion. These must be the eggs Deathwing desperately wanted him to find.

But beyond the eggs, Jesse’s focus locked onto a sealed door across the hall. "Where does that lead?" he asked.

"That door won’t open without my father’s permission," young Nek’rosh replied. "It’s not part of the tour. See how magnificent these eggs are, warlock? They are the future of Grim Batol and the entire Horde."

"Truly astonishing," Jesse agreed, now certain the Red Dragon Queen was behind that door. So Nekros wouldn’t even let him glimpse her? Or was he afraid to risk his son near her without the Demon Soul’s protection?

That evening, the Dragonmaw clan gave Jesse a clean room. Restless within its walls, anger simmered inside him. He checked corners and walls for magical items or listening spells, then sat down.

"Relax, master," Molofeel leaned casually nearby. "If they spied on you, I’d know instantly. That warlock wouldn’t even try such tricks if he understood Sayaad."

"Then charm Nekros for me," Jesse demanded.

"Sadly, his will is formidable," Molofeel sighed. "His shadow resistance rivals yours. He shows little interest in dark magic, yet his power matches any fanatical warlock. He’s a gifted shadow manipulator."

Jesse wasn’t surprised. Gul’dan wouldn’t have entrusted him with the Demon Soul otherwise.

Molofeel added, "As a warlock, if he sensed my charm attempt, he’d turn hostile instantly. You’d face the whole city. Too risky."

"So it’s impossible."

"Not entirely," Molofeel smiled faintly. "When first summoned, I couldn’t touch him. But now, strengthened by your magic and the Mageweave…" Jesse rubbed his temples, eyeing the patterns on her chest. "Get to the point."

"If we exhaust his magic or shatter his spirit, I can enslave him, crush his will."

"You mean I must beat him senseless first?" Jesse scoffed. "Fight him publicly in Grim Batol? What good are you then?"

"If fighting’s out, there’s another way," Molofeel offered. "If his will wavers, if he hesitates… I can subtly nudge his mind with shadow. It won’t control him, just tilt his thoughts slightly. Undetectable."

"Have you used this ‘nudge’ on me?" Jesse demanded.

"It’s a form of charm, master," Molofeel said quickly. "I obey your orders. I’d never use it against you."

"Still, it’s a path." Jesse frowned. "Let me see—I make him hesitate, make him seriously consider taking me to the Red Dragon Queen. Then you push him from ‘no’ toward ‘yes’?"

"Essentially," Molofeel confirmed.

Jesse’s brow furrowed deeper. How to make him waver? Directly asking to see the Queen felt too suspicious. It needed finesse.

He had to make Nekros believe only showing the "Blackrock envoy" the mighty Red Dragon Queen—not Grim Batol’s weak defenses—would prove their strength to Blackrock Spire. Only then would Great Chief Rend reconsider allying with the black dragons.

Moreover, the Warlord overestimated his fortress. Jesse needed to shatter that confidence, make him fear these eggs wouldn’t hatch in time before the Alliance attacked. That might push him to unleash the Queen and her mates.

But how?

Molofeel leaned against him, her hand inching downward. "Master, don’t brood. The night is long. Let me try that Orcish trick—"

"Stop," Jesse pushed her away. "In the Orcs’ den?"

Molofeel suddenly lifted a silver hair strand. "You refuse me… yet sneak with that elf?" Her voice turned cold.

Jesse stared. "What damn affair? Where’d you get this?"

"Under your robe. Another on your pants." Molofeel produced a second strand, smiling coldly. "So cautious with me… yet careless with elf hair clinging to you?"

"Damn it…" They’d huddled for warmth often in the freezing wetlands. Jesse hadn’t washed his clothes in ages. The hairs must have clung then.

He snatched the strands—and an idea struck. "No games now. Slip out of Grim Batol. Find Vereesa and Greed. Tell them: stay out tonight. Eliminate a small Dragonmaw patrol—tonight. Leave no traces. Nothing linking to Wildhammer dwarves or elves. Make it professional. I want Nekros to feel the Alliance breathing down his neck."

"Ah…" Molofeel’s smile returned.

"Yes," Jesse crushed the hairs. "I, Shadow Council member, Gul’dan’s student, wielder of Gorefiend’s staff, master of magical tracking… will ‘find’ elven traces no Dragonmaw Orc could. Proof that the Farstriders prepare to dismantle Grim Batol’s defenses. That the Alliance assault is imminent. Nekros needn’t fully believe it—just shake his confidence. Watch his state then, Molofeel. Seize the moment. Remember our goal: make him personally take me to the Queen."

"Once the Orcs are dealt with, have Saenor call my name. Strong then weak—twice. Hope his magic holds. If not, make him drink a potion! Deliver this fast. Return faster. Don’t let them notice my succubus vanished."

"Also, tell them the Queen’s location. They’ll need Invisibility Potions to enter."

"Understood, master." Molofeel dissolved into shadow. Jesse cast Detect Demon, catching only a glimpse as she streaked through the window toward distant streets.