Clouds billowed high in the sky, and the cold wind cut like a blade.
Obsidian flew silently through the northern sky, his wings half-folded, maintaining a gliding posture with only faint air currents.
The thick clouds seemed to be nature's skilled hand, weaving a misty cloak for him, tightly enveloping his massive body, and concealing his faintly floating divine aura within it.
Though a divine body was strong, the risk of exposure to a world with unknown laws far outweighed the battle itself.
He was cautious to the point of paranoia:
His flight altitude always remained at the edge of the clouds, never easily revealing his form;
His divine power was suppressed to its limit, maintaining only the lowest level of power fluctuation, disguised as a strong and silent adult dragon;
He observed in all directions, his divine sense extended, and any suspicious magical fluctuations would be immediately etched into his mind.
Below him were endless snowfields and broken mountain ranges.
This continent was far colder and more ancient than he had anticipated.
Ice-bound rifts, like wounds on the world, stretched deep into the earth's marrow;
Looking towards the distant mountain peaks, slumbering stone statues stood majestically, their faces blurred, yet exuding an unspeakable aura, like giants guarding this world, silently watching every traveler who passed by.
There were no cities here, no humans, only cold wind and time.
Obsidian didn't know if this was the edge of the world.
But what was certain was that this was the "starting point" woven by fate after his ascension to godhood.
Suddenly, a faint dragon roar came from the distant horizon.
He slightly adjusted the angle of his wings, hiding himself in a thicker cloud mass, revealing only a hint of his indifferent golden eyes.
A jade-green female giant dragon slowly ascended from below the clouds, approaching precisely along the wind direction.
He could tell that the other party had not discovered him; she was merely on a normal patrol.
But when the Green Dragon approached within a hundred zhang, at the moment she inadvertently met his gaze—
Her body stiffened abruptly, and her dragon eyes contracted violently.
Then she turned, dove, and fled without hesitation.
"...Quick reaction."
Obsidian did not move, only watching the dragon disappear into the wind and snow.
He had not released a single trace of pressure, yet he still made the other party feel an "existence that could not be looked at."
It wasn't a suppression of power, but more like an animal's instinct—run, absolutely not his opponent.
Obsidian also didn't chase her; he felt that he would soon discover traces of civilization.
After flying for a while longer, a larger Red Dragon appeared silently, approaching from the southwest.
It was clearly more experienced and did not immediately flee, but maintained an observing and wary flight posture, slowly approaching.
Until it approached within two hundred meters, Obsidian slightly opened his eyes, and a subtle aura fluctuation, like a spark touching oil, instantly ignited—
The Red Dragon immediately turned around.
That was a battlefield-level retreat posture, even causing a series of sonic booms behind it.
Obsidian watched it fly far away before slowly retracting his aura.
"What do they think I am? Deathwing?"
Obsidian murmured, a hint of sarcasm flashing in his dragon eyes.
When that name left his mouth, it carried a subtle sense of displacement.
He, of course, knew "Deathwing."
Even after countless days and nights had passed, that game, that digital continent named "World of Warcraft," still lingered in the deepest corner of his soul.
That Black Dragon King, who cherished his friends, bore the power of the earth, yet fell into the abyss, was once a source of regret and a totem in the hearts of countless players.
Originally named Neltharion, also known as Deathwing, he was one of the five Guardian Dragons, the Earth-Warder.
His appearance was the pinnacle of dragonkind; his scales were as solid as meteor iron, and his fury as scorching as a molten mountain;
His body was almost shattered by the impact of rampant energy, so much so that he had to rely on Elementium armor and arcane runes to barely maintain his body, to prevent himself from exploding when he roared.
He remembered the opening cinematic of that expansion: the world shattering, Deathwing flapping his wings and soaring into the sky, unleashing towering flames that completely reshaped the landscape of Azeroth.
"The Destroyer."
That was the impression he had at the time—destruction, madness, burning.
"Am I very similar to him?"
Obsidian looked down at his forelimbs.
He had no Elementium armor, and there were no cracks or lava leaks on his body.
His scales were as deep as the night sky, their surface shimmering with a faint glow, like carefully polished obsidian, both calm and clean, without any trace of corruption or damage.
His dragon horns curved elegantly backward, with smooth and harmonious lines, and his tail end was not a chaotic bone spur.
His body was not like Deathwing's, constantly on the verge of exploding.
Nor was his divinity tainted by Void corruption.
"I don't look like him. And I won't be him."
Obsidian clenched his claws, shaking off the thought.
Besides, this isn't Azeroth... right?
Obsidian shook his head, gazing at the Red Dragon's hurried fleeing figure, his dragon eyes slightly narrowed.
"Never mind, he should be able to lead me to a place with people, no, with dragons."
He reined in his aura, flapped his wings, and glided in the direction the Red Dragon had come from.
Since the other party was so wary, it meant there must be a dragon gathering place nearby—perhaps he could get some information about this world from there.
—Dividing line—
Dragonblight, Ancient Path.
The cold wind howled, and the snowfield was vast.
Obsidian landed on an ancient stone path, his dragon claws stepping on the rune-carved megaliths, producing a dull echo.
This road was astonishingly wide, enough for two adult giant dragons to walk side by side, and its surface was covered with thick frost, but the exquisite patterns of its past could still be seen.
That was Titan craftsmanship, which remained largely intact even after the Great Sundering.
"A bit familiar..."
He murmured, flying north along the road.
As he went deeper, the surrounding scenery gradually became familiar—broken glaciers, ancient battlefields frozen in ice, and that majestic towering spire in the distance, standing in the wind and snow...
Dragonshrines!
Obsidian's heart gave a sudden lurch.
"Damn! Is this really Azeroth?!"
He had originally thought the system had thrown him into some unfamiliar magical world, but after a circle, he had actually arrived in Azeroth?
And judging by the looks of it, the timeline seemed to be after Deathwing's betrayal?
"This is troublesome now..."
As a former player, he was all too aware of the dangers of Azeroth.
Old Gods, the Burning Legion, Titan constructs, the Army of the Light... and even the Shadowlands behind the veil later on.
Although he had ascended to godhood, the systems didn't match up!
Was a DnD god equivalent to a Titan? A Titan Keeper? Or a smaller subordinate?
Not to mention things like the Old Gods, which caused mental corruption...
Until he had concrete evidence, it was best for him to remain cautious.
"Observe first, don't act rashly."
Obsidian took a deep breath, suppressing his divine power to its limit, and his body's scales subtly adjusted, reflecting a grayish-white similar to the wind and snow, perfectly blending into the environment.
He flew at low altitude along the Ancient Path, silently approaching the Dragonshrines.
Dragonshrines, Main Spire.
This sky-reaching colossal spire stood majestically, its body encircled by reliefs of five-colored giant dragons, and at its summit floated a massive magical crystal, emitting a soft arcane glow.
And around the Main Spire, five slightly smaller sub-spires were arranged in a circle, corresponding to the five great dragonflights—
Red Dragon Sub-Spire: Enveloped in crimson flames, rich with the aura of life.
Blue Dragon Sub-Spire: Arcane runes flowed, magical power surged.
Bronze Dragon Sub-Spire: Encircled by the Sands of Time, ethereal and elusive.
Green Dragon Sub-Spire: The aura of the Emerald Dream faintly visible.
Black Dragon Sub-Spire...
Obsidian's gaze lingered on that pitch-black sub-spire.
Unlike the other four sub-spires, the Black Dragon Sub-Spire was already silent, its body covered in cracks, and its surface enveloped in a strange dark purple energy.
That seemed to be the mark of Void corruption.
"It seems after Deathwing's betrayal, the Black Dragonflight has been disbarred..."
Obsidian reconsidered, thinking, that doesn't seem quite right, does it?
During the Wrath of the Lich King, he seemed to have done quests for the Black Dragons, and they could freely enter and exit the Dragonshrines, couldn't they?
However, there were no such sub-spires in the game.
In earlier years, due to computer performance limitations, much of the game's content was cut.
For example, the journey between Goldshire and Stormwind City.
In the game, it only took a few minutes, but in some official novels, it required several hours to travel back and forth.
So the real Azeroth and the one in the game should be very different, at least much larger.
"Never mind, now is not the time to consider these things."
He quietly landed on a broken cliff on the outskirts of the temple, his dragon eyes slightly contracted, observing the movements of the main spire from a distance.
There were Dragonkin patrols near the temple, but not many, and each Dragonkin appeared tired and wary, clearly having experienced a major battle.
"It seems the five great dragonflights are currently in a weakened state..."
Obsidian mused, and then suddenly, his divine sense caught an unusual fluctuation—
Someone was watching him!
He abruptly turned his head, his gaze fixed on the top of the Bronze Dragon Sub-Spire.
There, a slender Bronze Dragon was quietly watching him, and in his golden dragon eyes, the Sands of Time seemed to flow.
A child of Nozdormu!
Obsidian's heart tightened, but he quickly calmed down.
The other party did not immediately attack, which meant he had not yet determined his identity.
"Since I've been discovered, then..."
He bared his dragon maw, revealing a cold smile.
"Why not take the initiative to say hello."