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Karp
Karp

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Chapter 179

(Happening at the same time as Varrus’s purge) 

Sitting upon his phoenix companion, Kael’Thas heard the completion of the Lich's spell, and his Mana Sight tracked the surge of energy as it flowed towards him. 

“DEATH'S REQUIEM!!!” 

The words erupted from within Naxxramas, and with it, came a curious magic. 

It was not ice, nor was it a reckless, amorphous blob of energy. 

No, the spell came in the shape of rose petals. 

Thousands and thousands of dark red, dying rose petals whooshed through the sky like tiny shuriken. Everything they touched experienced the taste of death. Furthermore, they were sharp, as evidenced by cutting through iron armor as if it were butter. 

Not even Elven or glass armor was safe, as the swarm was large in volume, and after hitting the same place hundreds of times, the petals pierced the armor sets! 

Only that gear which was made of mythril was secure, yet those sets were in such slim supply, that it didn’t really matter. 

Within a minute, 5,000 Elves, 50,000 Humans, and 80,000 Kobolds met an early end. 

Kel’Thuzad's masterpiece, his magnum opus was almost impossible to contain, and each little petal carried with it the peak strength of a Hero. 

Simply put, the average infantryman was unequipped to face such devastating magic. 

It wasn't as if Kael had sat idly by either, but the chaotic flight pattern of Death’s Requiem was just that serious. 

Kael had tried repositioning the deadly petals’ positioning by altering the XYZ coordinates, however, the vast number of petals made it impossible to contain them all. 

Feeling his veins go cold, Kael gripped onto his blade Felo'melorn with a terrible feeling in his gut. 

Regret began to sink in as he dearly wished his friend were here, and that he had not dismissed Varrus. 

Here, now, on the cusp of defeat did Kael recognize the need to pool their powers together. 

‘You are not alone, my son.’ The ghost of  Anasterian, Kael's father spoke to him through his sword. 

“Father?” 

‘You are the Phoenix King. Call upon them, but be warned, there is a price to pay. Summoning them upon your coronation was the seal of your contract.’ Anasterian's voice calmly explained. 

“Whatever the price is, there's nothing I'm unwilling to do if it means securing the safety of my people.” Kael said with determination. 

Kael felt the presence fade, yet Felo'melorn flashed red, as if to acknowledge his resolve. 

“Kieer!” Al'ar cried in worry. 

“I must do this, Al'ar. Look at them dying. It was preventable, and is all my fault. If my suffering is what is needed to achieve victory, then I shall do what I must.” Kael stated emphatically, his mind was made up. 

“Kieeeer!” Al'ar shed tiers, then began to glow white hot, and started up the Phoenix Song. 

Kael found that the heat of his mount did him no harm, yet the weapon in his hand started to warp, and fuse to his hand. His palm hissed and bubbled as it continuously melted and rejuvenated. This excruciating encounter looped on repeat, and was only the beginning of the price Kael would pay in securing the aid of the phoenixes. 

Through his connection to Felo'melorn, he sensed the boundless hunger of the phoenix. Born from fire, the phoenix was a being of eternal renewal. Of death and rebirth into perpetuity. This cycle was revisited over and over again, repeated across eons. 

In that brief second, Kael was forced to live through a thousand life times. During this event, he experienced every death imaginable. 

Freezing, drowning, bludgeoning, withering. These and many more were thrust upon Kael as the price he would pay. That he would have an understanding that when he summoned the phoenixes, they felt pain, and suffering. That their deaths were no joke. Just because one could be reborn after death did not mean it was okay. 

“Yes. Yes I understand your suffering. Thank you, my friends, for opening my eyes. Thank you.” Kael whispered to the blade. 

“Kiiier!” A Phoenix Song rang from the blade, and Kael felt his mana being drawn upon to an insane degree. 

Closing his eyes, Kael fed everything he had, barely keeping up with the Sunwell's rejuvenation. 

Finally, when the rose petals were closing in, the blade was satisfied. 

Snapping his eyes open, the world seemed to freeze in place. 

Kael's eyes now took on a pure white hue, and his very being was channeling an impossible amount of Light/Life/Fire energy. 

Logically, Kael knew he should explode, yet the constant drain from his sword, and fed power from the phoenix realm left him in a queer state of equilibrium. 

Eyes wandering down below, Dranarus and his Spellbreakers were barely holding out alongside Jan'alai. 

In his current state, the world felt fragile, as if it were made of glass. Everything moved slow, and emotions like anger, fear, pride, envy, all of it became muted as he entranced himself within the song of eternity. 

Holding his hand out towards a petal, Kael took it in his grasp as if it were a static object, frozen in midair. 

Crumpling it, and letting its sharp edges pierce his skin, Kael felt the concepts of death and decay enter his system. He felt his heart explode, his lungs fill up with black putrid goop, his eyes become murky blind, and his skin fall off his bones. 

All this occurred in a manner of seconds, yet like the phoenix, Kael emerged from the ashes. 

“GOLDILOCKS!”

“YOUR MAJESTY!” 

The voices of his closest companions reached his ears as he reformed. 

Kael smiled gently at them. Muted his emotions may be, but Kael appreciated the two all the same. 

Always attending to his needs, and acquiescing to his every petty demand. 

They were good people. His people. 

Taking in their damaged and bedraggled state, the muted emotions all retreated to the back of his mind as they made way for one particular feeling. 

Wrath. 

Holding out his hand once more, Kael grabbed one of the petals, but this time he did not allow it to cut himself. 

Eyes glowing white, Kael perfectly traced the spell matrices that formed this petal, and deconstructed them in an instant. 

With a snap of his finger, he crushed the petal, and projected his mind into the ritual. 

A hundred and one minds all shook and quivered at once as their grand ritual had been infiltrated. 

Kel’Thuzad and his 100 Heroic students within the haunted halls of Naxxramas shuddered as the burning white hot gaze of a pair of ethereal eyes burned their souls. 

I SEE YOU. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Kel’Thuzad felt as if he was on top of the world. 

His grand spell had properly flummoxed the smug Elves, and placed them on the backfoot. 

Sure, he was losing ground in all the other zones of the floating city, but did that really matter when he had the King? 

Once he raised Kael’Thas into undeath, destroying this kingdom would be as easy as it ever was. In the end, the Scourge would reign supreme. 

As Kel’Thuzad was basking within the throes of victory, he felt something was amiss. 

Down below, within the city of Stratholme, his nigh unlimited power source was being eroded! 

Clenching his jaw tight, Kel’Thuzad was mentally preparing a grisly demise for the Elf responsible for removing his taint, when suddenly he felt a shift in the air. 

An electric buzz forcefully shoved itself into the shared mental link he had with his students, and roughly pushed them to the side. 

One of the Lichs attempted to remove this intruder, yet his soul was shattered in an instant. His death was so sudden, so severe his phylactery shattered along with his soul! 

Mana unsteadily quaked within Kel’Thuzad's body as this force pressed down upon him. 

99 other souls screamed as their bones exploded, and their souls crushed. 

‘Those eyes! Those damnable eyes!’ Kel’Thuzad cursed to himself.

Some measure of panic and fear suffused his typically calm and collected psyche, leading him to experience a fresh bout of fear. 

I SEE YOU. 

Kel’Thuzad cut the connection to the grand ritual spell in a hurry. His arm and left leg exploded as a result of the backlash, and his internal mana became a mess. 

“Master?!” Rivendare rushed to his side in hurried concern. 

“Time is short, Baron. Leave me, make sure there are no distractions. The fate of the Scourge depends on your next actions.” Kel’Thuzad spoke in an unflappable tone, as if the damage done to his body was nothing. 

“It shall be done, master. Four Horsemen, we ride!” Rivendare harshly commanded the three other Legendary Heroes, and left the throne room. 

Alone, Kel’Thuzad slipped out of his throne, and rolled around in agony. 

The attack on his soul had been so fierce, it had engendered within him an experience he had long thought lost to him due to his undead nature. 

It was pain. 

Pain like no other assaulted him.

Yet it was this very sensation that reminded him of his mortality. That even if he was  immune to the decay of time, that did not mean he was invincible, or indestructible. 

Grasping at the black tiled floor, Kel’Thuzad struggled to pull himself up the steps to his throne. At the same time, he was constantly pulling upon what reserve energy that he could in a vain hope to heal himself. 

What ordinarily would take 2 seconds of levitation had become a laborious minute long trek.  

A minute may not seem like a long amount of time, yet during that brief period, almost all of Naxxramas had collapsed in on itself, and was melting under the intense flames of phoenix fire. 

Chuckling hollowly to himself, Kel’Thuzad realized he had been full of hubris. His ambitions were to gather these disparate warlords, and become the next Lich King. 

To rule over all. 

Yet reality proved-as it always did-much more disappointing than fantasy. 

Climbing up to his throne, Kel’Thuzad pried open a panel on the armrest, and took out an old, weathered scroll. 

Unfurling it, he looked at the runes upon it in discomfort. 

The price he was about to pay made him squirm in his seat, yet what was the alternative? 

Mustering what little mana he could muster, Kel’Thuzad activated the scroll. 

A second later, a slip stream of time coated the Lich, and the conversation he was about to engage in-which would last minutes or even hours-would only be a second on Azeroth. 

[Why have you awakened us from Our slumber?] 

[Have you reconsidered?] 

[Will you be our toy?] 

Multiple voices sounded out from all around him. 

“To you, the Ideal Masters, creators of the Soul Cairn, I Kel’Thuzad agree to your conditions. Grant me the power to eliminate my foe!” 

[Very well]

[Give us the souls in your employ] 

[Give us your soul] 

The conversation ended, and Kel’Thuzad found himself back within his throne room. 

A shift in Kel’Thuzad's spirit took place. Something was fundamental about his being had been taken, yet something else had filled its place. 

Kel’Thuzad didn't have much time to reflect upon this newfound transformation, as the walls around him completely melted, and the flaming, white hot King flew in upon the back of his phoenix. 

No words, witticisms, barbs, or clever anecdotes were traded this time. 

The second both wizards locked eyes with one another, they unleashed everything they had. 

Fire and ice clashed in an epic manner, threatening to destroy Quel'Vanar, and douse this region of the kingdom in a perpetual rain of giant snowballs, and fireballs. 

Within the command room, the Elves had completed their ritual spell, and created a powerful barrier, barely providing protection to the rest of the Covenant from this epic clash. 

Kael’Thas was closing the distance, and melting everything in his path. He burned bright, like a white dwarf on its last stretch before going supernova. 

The King's heat was intense, and acted to counter Kel’Thuzad at every turn. 

Yet the ghastly wail of the 500,000 souls used as fuel for Kel’Thuzad's transformation carried with it the fear of death. 

Back and forth, each Demigod traded spells until Kel’Thuzad started to lose. 

Recognizing his failure, Kel’Thuzad realized that to achieve victory, he must threaten the people. 

Channeling his mana, Kel’Thuzad created a crushing ice block chalked full of Death energy, and surrounded the entirety of Quel'Vanar. 

Pressing his hands downward, he forced the city to cease floating, and go into a freefall. 

Casting this spell had left him open, and Kael’Thas had pierced the ice shield that surrounded the Lich. The young Elf had then scored several rending blows along Kel’Thuzad's body, destroying well over 40% of it. 

Scorched and full of blackened bones, Kel’Thuzad chuckled darkly as gravity took over, and they began to fall with the city.  

“Your life, or your city, hero! Choose.” Kel’Thuzad cackled. His words were a promise. 

Should Kael turn to save the city, then he would leave himself open to an attack. However, should he choose to slay Kel’Thuzad, then he wouldn't have enough time to halt Quel'Vanar's fall. 

“A King must have faith in his subjects.” Kael gently smiled, and ran his sword through Kel’Thuzad's chest. 

“You’re more callous than I thought. As a King should be.” Kel’Thuzad calmly remarked, accepting his fate. 

“It is a shame you turned into this, Kel’Thuzad. Your study of necromancy is astounding. Perhaps we could have been friends if you had kept such knowledge to yourself.” 

“Fare thee well, Kael’Thas Sunstrider. I am sorry to say, I would have killed you with jealousy before we could be friends. However, a word of advice before I depart. Be wary of that blade of yours, I don't know if you know this, but it is of Daedric origin.” Kel’Thuzad said, before the phoenix fire consumed his corpse, and his soul was delivered to the Ideal Masters on a silver platter. 

Kael’Thas glanced at Felo'melorn, and felt his flesh melt and reforge repeatedly. 

When he thought about putting the blade down, he discovered he did not want to. 

“Kiieer!” Al'ar racked his claws across Kael's back, and cried into his mouth. 

“Thank you, my friend.” Kael muttered to Al'ar. 

The King's muted emotions receded, and Kael had regained full control of his faculties. 

Sheathing the blade, Kael sat down, and felt a great drowsiness overcome him. 

Bursting onto the scene, Dranarus and the Royal Spellbreakers rushed up to him. 

“My King, are you well?!” Dranarus shouted in concern. 

“I must sleep. For a. While. Leave everything to…to, Varrus” Kael’Thas said weakly as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. 

“Your Highness!...I shall! And following your command from earlier, I must inform upon Faedra, as commanded.” 

Kael, unable to speak, tiredly waved Dranarus on to continue. 

Casting a shroud of Muffle, Dranarus leaned in close, and cupped his hand so that his lips could not be read. 

“She is your mother.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: Kael’s not dead, just gonna take a nap for a while. 

Comments

Yeah ive lost all my liking of kael with this bs, hed be better off dead. Hope he dies soon

Ryan Helmbold

“Whatever the price is, there's nothing I'm unwilling to do if it means securing the safety of my people.” Except getting shown up by his friend of course.

MadGod


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