While the Frost Trolls enjoyed their feast in Ital'ruk, within the Divine Realm Serakhen, specifically in the Divine Palace, on the War Stratum.
This was not a true battlefield relic, but rather a reification of the concept of war.
Broken weapons lay scattered across the scorched earth, rivers of blood snaked through them, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of saltpeter, ozone, and residual magical energy.
The dim sky was dominated by several slowly rotating, flickering shattered celestial bodies, casting an ever-changing, pale light.
At the center of this symbolic "battlefield," a small area had been forcibly "leveled," displaying precise creations that were completely out of place with their surroundings.
Energy liquids of various colors flowed through transparent pipes, connecting to various complex instruments that emitted low hums.
Suspended arcane crystals projected constantly shifting holographic images.
Strange ores, biological tissue samples, and several unfinished humanoid creatures with distinct draconic features lay scattered on the ground.
Ekseltus, the incarnation of the Dragon of Radiance, sat before a massive control panel, his expression focused.
One giant claw delicately and precisely manipulated divine power, "sculpting" a tiny runic node on a slightly pulsating embryonic tissue suspended before him.
His other claw rapidly glided across a nearby control panel, precisely adjusting the delicate balance of energy parameters.
Suddenly, the space behind him silently twisted and tore, and a portal quietly opened.
KaIgnas's figure stepped out, appearing behind the colorful dragon, holding the female elf in his claw.
The Divine Emissary did not disturb the busy god; he merely knelt on one knee respectfully, then quietly waited for his deity to speak, his movements fluid and silent.
However, the female elf in his claw could not remain calm.
Although under the absolute dominion of [Commandment], she could not even tremble a fingertip, the muscles on her pale face were contorted and deformed, almost collapsing, due to extreme fear and futile resistance of will, her lips silently opening and closing.
Ekseltus did not immediately turn around.
Within the Divine Realm, his will was the highest law.
With a slight thought and the flow of divine power, he could create servants of any form out of thin air.
The profound rules of divinity and the Divine Realm would automatically correct details, bestowing new life with reasonable structures and stable existence.
But the dragonborn embryos before him were different.
They were not attendants for within the Divine Realm, but seeds to be cast into Azeroth, to become members of numerous mortal races.
Therefore, he had to be extremely careful in harmonizing their inherent divine imprints—both to maintain their connection with the Divine Realm Serakhen and to ensure they could perfectly adapt to Azeroth's material and magical laws.
This was a delicate balancing act, allowing no room for error.
KaIgnas waited patiently, only ensuring that the female elf could not make a sound.
After an unknown amount of time, Ekseltus finally completed the last micro-adjustment.
He watched the rune stably integrate into the tissue network and nodded with satisfaction.
Then, he placed the completed embryo into a furnace-like device nearby.
The instrument hummed, divine power flowed, and began to construct a solid eggshell around the embryo, injecting a nutrient matrix containing divine power.
Having finished all this, he slowly turned his head, his gaze falling upon KaIgnas.
With just a thought, everything the Divine Emissary had experienced in Ital'ruk became known to him.
"Crystal Song Forest should still be called Moon Song Forest by those High Elf?" Ekseltus quickly searched his memory for information—they were a group of High Elf descendants trapped in Northrend after the Great Sundering.
Their coveting of the Blue Dragonflight's crystallized magic led to retaliation from the Blue Dragons, and they were ultimately consumed by magic, causing the entire area and their souls to be permanently twisted.
(The Blue Dragonflight attacked Moon Song Forest)
His gaze shifted to the female elf in KaIgnas's claw, his voice low and direct: "Why did you infiltrate Ital'ruk?"
The female elf was horrified to find that she could speak, but what came out was not what she thought: "To seek new sources of magic…"
This reason sounded very "elven."
Except for the Night Elf led by Malfurion and Tyrande, the destiny of other elven branches seemed to always revolve around the thirst and struggle for magic.
Ekseltus then posed several key questions, gradually piecing together the outline of this elven espionage incident.
After the Great Sundering, the High Elf of Shandaral City completely lost contact with other elves.
Fortunately, thanks to the abundant magical reserves and artifacts left from the Age of Azshara, they had struggled in this harsh land for thousands of years.
However, even the most abundant reserves could not withstand the passage of time, and the shadow of magical exhaustion finally descended.
The Mage Council and Noble Court of Shandaral were forced to "open up new sources and cut expenditures."
"Cutting expenditures" could still be implemented: the magical quota for commoners was drastically reduced, while noble privileges remained.
But "opening up new sources" was the true dead end—Northrend was a barren magical desert, and low-risk access to magic was almost a fantasy.
They had not been without the thought of taking risks—the Blue Dragons' Nexus, the underground Nerubian Empire, and even Freya's protected Garden of Life, "Sholazar Basin"—these places all contained vast sources of magic.
The question was, did the Shandaral Elves dare to touch them?
Theoretically, no.
In reality, history proved that after reaching a dead end, they did indeed provoke the Blue Dragonflight and met with complete destruction.
But this time, before absolute despair, they discovered the newly rising Ital'ruk.
A city still in development, worshiping a brand new god, possessing unprecedented divine power and a class system, looking not as powerful and unfathomable as established powers.
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