Chapter 729

Chapter 729: How Much Could Be Considered Agreement

As night fell, the warlocks rested in the Orc camp on the hillside. Jesse approached the altar and gazed at the ethereal demon.

Kallez’s two small eyes, resembling fiery lanterns, fixed on Jesse as he said, "What’s the matter, little thing? Planning to free me? Enslaving my kind is the stupidest choice you’ve ever made."

"Trust me, it wouldn’t even crack my top three worst decisions," Jesse retorted, stepping closer. "I have questions, Kallez."

"Speak. Let’s hear your grand inquiries."

Kallez lowered his head, enormous black horns framing Jesse. A single shake could’ve sent him flying into oblivion.

"Answer truthfully—no matter what. That’s an order," Jesse commanded flatly. After prolonged teeth-grinding, Kallez yielded: "I obey my master."

Jesse watched him, deciding to test his compliance. "Where’s Ner’zhul?"

"Ner’zhul?" Kallez scoffed. "That Orc’s dead, Jesse Seso. Kil’jaeden trapped his shattered soul in an icy prison for betrayal, hurled it toward—"

"Continue," Jesse ordered.

Kallez pressed his wings against his body like a tattered cloak, straining against the command. But enslavement and binding magic overpowered his will.

The demon’s teeth ground as words forced their way out: "Ner’zhul’s soul still has uses. Kil’jaeden needs him to… continue the assault on… Aze—"

"Azeroth," Jesse finished. "So his soul’s there. If you return to the Twisting Nether after revealing this, will Kil’jaeden imprison you for treason?"

"Arnak’kaile," Kallez hissed.

"Save your curses. Next question: What happened beyond the Dark Portal? Rumors say Draenor perished."

The Demon Lord paused. "True destruction? Far from it." He spoke of Draenor without hesitation.

"Ner’zhul never grasped the Scepter of Sargeras’ full power. Fragments of that world survive—lands adrift in the void. But Magtheridon now walks its broken surface, sent by Kil’jaeden through the Scepter’s portal. The Legion will reclaim it. Kil’jaeden won’t relent—every surviving Orc and Azerothian soldier will be crushed." Kallez’s fiery gaze intensified. "Azeroth’s fate will mirror it, Jesse Seso."

Jesse pondered. His interference had killed Teron Gorefiend far earlier than in other timelines—the Death Knight’s original demise came by Turalyon’s hand in Shadowmoon Valley. As a Horde leader, Teron’s death might reshape Draenor’s fate, though Jesse couldn’t predict how.

Yet according to Kallez, Draenor’s state remained largely unchanged. The critical update was Magtheridon’s arrival in Outland.

Among Pit Lords, Magtheridon stood second only to Mannoroth. Though both Annihilan, his strength dwarfed warriors like Azgath. As Kil’jaeden’s lieutenant and a Burning Legion high commander, he’d used the Scepter’s portal to invade Outland with legions of demons, declaring himself its king. Within years, his power would swell so vast that even Kil’jaeden would suspect betrayal.

"Details of Azeroth’s forces in Draenor?" Jesse pressed.

"Free me to the Twisting Nether, and I’ll ask Magtheridon myself," Kallez sneered. Clearly, he knew little.

Jesse shifted topics to the dread artifact—Ulthalesh, the Soul Scythe. He glanced toward the Orc camp’s distant fires. Utmost caution was vital.

These warlocks could learn nothing. The Dark Iron Dwarf incident proved their ruthlessness for power. Their current respect? Mere awe of strength, or hope for Jesse’s gifts. Not even shared near-death during the summoning ritual could forge true trust.

"What is Dethmoora’s mission in Azeroth?" Jesse demanded.

"You haven’t enslaved her?" Kallez countered.

"You know secrets she doesn’t," Jesse pressed.

"I… won’t…"

Kallez fought the command, jaw clenched. Forcing obedience from such a demon was draining Jesse.

"Tell me, or your death will be agony," Jesse threatened.

"Death?" Kallez laughed mirthlessly. "You think I fear the Twisting Nether? Or Kil’jaeden? This world is doomed! Every soul who learns my true name will turn to ash—you arrogant fool! Did you believe a Sayaad’s prattle could cow an Ered’ruin lord?"

Jesse sensed the lie. Kallez feared Kil’jaeden, feared returning—but he’d risk it to escape a mortal’s leash. A sharper threat was needed.

"You might recognize this incantation," Jesse cleared his throat. "A Nathrezim spell: Ka’rilili Fel’raos Paku—"

"Silence!"

Kallez’s roar shook his armor. He lurched forward, binding magic halting him inches from Jesse’s face.

"You lack the power to unleash Kolkamiin with my soul! None could!"

"I’ll risk it," Jesse said. "If you break free, I’ll down Flasks of Distilled Wisdom, anchor a ritual circle here, and unleash your soul as a weapon." He pointed northeast. "See Blackrock Mountain’s glow past the cliffs? Orcs infest it. I’ll catapult your essence there. If you’re half as mighty as claimed, you might blast layers off Blackrock Spire. At least your summoning would aid Stormwind."

"So gamble, Kallez. Bet I can’t forge your soul into a tracking bomb."

The demon seethed, words dying in his throat. Finally, he spat: "Dethmoora seeks ways to herald the Legion’s arrival in Azeroth."

"Worthless. Even the lowliest creature knows the Burning Legion’s goal," Jesse snapped. "Tell me something unknown."

"Kil’jaeden tasked me to send her after the Great Master’s lost Azerothian relic," Kallez rasped. "But she plots alone—hides much from me…" Suddenly, his tongue flicked against razor fangs. "I see. You seek that relic too, Jesse Seso. That’s why you press me—no more games! What did Dethmoora tell you?"

"Why so agitated?" Jesse probed. "Is this relic truly worth Kil’jaeden’s forgiveness?"

Kallez’s eye-flames dimmed. He offered no reply as Jesse held his gaze.

Midnight approached. Sustaining dominance over the demon had drained Jesse. Yet he sensed a twisted accord forming between them regarding Ulthalesh.

"Final question: Can you shrink yourself?"

"No."