Chapter 177

Upon the northern district of the floating city, Quel'Vanar, Syra had cut a hole through the enemy lines, and decimated tens of thousands. 

Ghouls, Abominations, Elites, Heroes, all fell to her black blade with the same ease that a man cuts paper with scissors. 

Syra, all the while was like a child discovering ice cream for the first time. Her ecstatic expressions, and frequent looks back to Varrus said it all. 

Every Hero she slew, Syra would give Varrus a look of glee. 

Nodding back at her, blowing misses, and clapping only seemed to embolden her. 

A dozen Heroic Death Knights were cut into pieces, and fed down a Frost Wyrm's gullet until it exploded from being overstuffed. 

1,000 Ghouls had their legs, and arms cut off so that they could only use their necks and teeth to crawl after her. The sight of so many disgusting creatures going stark raving mad was insane with the hungry growls and black slobber they spat onto the once pristine white bricked road. 

Again and again, Syra performed numerous feats of acrobatics, and overwhelming strength. it filled Varrus's heart with glee to know that she had taken to his gift with such fervor. 

If there was anything his lovable blonde murder machine loved more than him, it was inflicting pain on those who threatened them and their family. 

Her involvement on this front became so extreme, Varrus almost felt bad for the Undead. 

It came to a point where the rest of the army accompanying them basically became cheerleaders, and took on anything Syra hadn't managed to sink her teeth into. 

Blazing in purple-gold energy, Syra was radiant in the sunlight, and absolutely oozed charisma.

Tess, Karwl, and the Illidari all chased after her like ducks chasing after their mother. Their chants and fervor would make a 16th century Spanish conquistador blush, and was something straight out of a shounen anime! 

“I, Tess Greymane, am Syra Vandercross's number one disciple!” Tess turned into shadows, and began to chain gank dozens of Ghouls every second. Her twin daggers spun around, and her plump figure drew the attention of every man, and even a few Elves. 

The raven haired teenage Queen had taken to her bloodline well, and was killing all the leftover trash mobs with the skill and tenacity of a speedrunner. 

Occasionally, she glanced over at Rho'dan with a dreamy look, yet his steadfast refusal to return her feelings only seemed to fuel her negative, teenage emo powers more. 

Dark raven-looking shadows gathered under Tess, and she literally exploded into a hundred different shadow birds. 

Teleporting freely between the birds, Tess scooped out the goo from a Lich's skull, cut off an Abomination's legs tripping it over a dozen zombies, infiltrated a necromancers mind so he rebuilt a pile of bones into a giant hand-one that promptly turned on and crushed the necromancer-as well as dozens of other childish, yet macabrely creative murders. 

Varrus made note of Tess's jealousy, and once he had some free time, wanted to invite her to the Emerald Dream. Maybe they would create all kinds of strife and hatred in the world, but Varrus truly believed that Tess and Ysera had the potential to develop into fantastic friends. 

Moving on, the Kobold contingent was also advancing, and surprisingly creating havoc wherever they went. 

“K-Karwl is a member of House Vandercross! For the Great Candle in the Sky, for House Vandercross!” Karwl lifted an enchanted pick, and pierced through a Heroic Death Knight's shield, much to the DK's shocked expression. 

Not even the dead were accepting of dying to a tiny rat man that barely came up to their knees! 

The Illidari council, meanwhile, tried to move as efficiently, and with as much Elven grace as possible. They were absolute try-hards, and were like the kind of athlete that didn’t celebrate after scoring a goal. It was as if they were too good for this fight, and that the slaughter of tens of thousands of Commons, thousands of Elites, and dozens of Heroes was a regular occurance. 

Varrus couldn't help but chuckle at their smug Elf behavior, but it seemed to be effective, as their ‘otherworldly’ behavior greatly affected the moral of the Humans from Gilneas, and pushed the rest of House Vandercross to try hard as well. 

Watching his typically lazy, magic spamming House start to actually do their best 100% of the time was an eye opening experience. 

Who knew that to draw out the potential of the smug Elves, all Varrus had to do was bring in some competition? That the mere allusion of being inferior to an ally-Humans and Kobolds no less-was somehow worse than actually fucking dying! 

Shaking his head, Varrus really couldn't believe the smug Elf way of life. They really were some thousand year olds with 8th grader syndrome! 

Needless to say, morale was at its highest, and they had made swift progress decimating the endless waves of the enemy that were spawning in. 

Upon this latest push leading all the way up to the gates of the Necropolis, the troops got rowdy, and started to praise their leaders. 

“For House Vandercross! For Queen Greymane! For Lady Syra! For the Great Candle!” Each respective faction within Varrus's army cheered on as the taste of victory was on everyone's lips. 

FOR THE COVENANT!” 

During this unifying shout of exultation, a series of villainous monologuing came from the top of the temple. 

Some priest was raving about his excellency, Archbishop Alonsus Faol. 

Honestly, Varrus was kind of surprised that a Legendary Hero had been brought here. The founder of the Silver Hands was no joke. 

Whilst they were weaker than a Demigod, Legendary Heroes had the potential to slay one, especially if they were backed up by other Heroes. 

Again, referencing Cenarius, the progenitor of Dryads was slain by the Legendary Hero, Grom Hellscream. Then, Thrall and Grom also slew the great Demonic Demigod, Mannaroth. 

To think that having damage alone made one invincible was a foolish notion. 

That was all to say that even if Syra was stronger, that didn't mean she could afford to act all cavalier when someone who could threaten her tried to take her life.  

However, this was a rare opportunity. Each time someone made rapid progress in their abilities, it took time to adjust. 

For example, if a rake thin skinny guy could suddenly-and easily-lift 5,000 lbs, then chances were, he'd have to adapt to his newfound strength so that he didn't accidentally rip apart: the cabinets, shower head, car door, etc. 

In effect, Alonsus Faol was a rare opportunity. 

An opportunity to serve as Syra's whetstone! 

“Go get him Syra, make me proud! You can do it!” Varrus cupped his hands, and shouted through the crazy haze of the battlefield. 

Between the screams of men dying, and the constant squelch of Undead collapsing, Syra took a second to flash Varrus a brilliant smile. 

As the Legendary Priest started to unleash the power of the Holy Void, Syra slashed and diced apart his ‘word magic’ with her heavily enchanted Adamantine blade. 

Holy Void clashed with Holy Void as sword met magic word. 

Tiles cracked, and nearby buildings exploded.

The threat of collateral damage pushed Varrus to act. 

Moving in between the wild, uncontrollable energy, Varrus held up a ward with two hands, blocking any of it from reaching his troops. 

Grunting from maintaining the ward that contained the combined power from both Syra and Alonsus, Varrus barely managed to stand his ground. 

‘The enchantments placed upon that blade are absurd!’ Varrus thought to himself as his wife once again transformed into a juggernaut of destruction. 

Watching her silently and methodically cut down every spell coming her way, Varrus was reminded of his first day on Azeroth. 

Of that fateful encounter when Syra had tied him to his bedpost, when she ran head first into a mob of Undead without a care in the world. 

“Incredible.” Varrus praised as he felt himself becoming both mesmerized, and infatuated all over again with Syra's cool, composed capacity for violence. 

There was no shouting, only focus. 

Unlike the try hard smug Elves who went 100% because Humans/Kobolds were watching and they didn't want to get outperformed/shamed, Syra was like this all the time. 

His beautiful, violent wife went 1000% all in, every time. Sometimes this led to mess than ideal circumstances, but during a conflict such as this, you really couldn't wish for a better ally. 

Getting close to the Legendary Hero, Syra stopped playing around. 

“Finish him!” Varrus urged. 

Upon hearing him, Syra slammed her sword down from as high as she could raise it, down onto the ground.  

As a result, a great wave of Holy Void energy left the adamantium blade's tip, amd travelled in a straight line towards Alonsus. 

At that moment, Varrus felt as if time had stopped completely. 

The world took on a black & white hue, with people/objects emitting muted colors. 

Blinking once, Varrus felt as if he had missed something as a flash blinded his eyes. 

Shouting Become Ethereal, Varrus removed all weaknesses of the flesh, and watched on with bated breath. 

That line released by Syra-which seemed to cut apart a slice of the universe-met the Necropolis, then connected with Alonsus Faol. 

Everything in its path perfectly split in two, as if they were a piece of perfectly cut paper. 

Seconds after the fact, when color returned to the world, an explosion of epic proportions rocked Quel'Vanar's foundations. 

Varrus was forced to maintain his ward, and in fact, found himself recasting his ward spell five more times. Each time Syra's uncontrollable energy broke a shield, Varrus felt himself slightly panic, and looked at his wife as if she were a monster. 

The entire army had gone silent at this awesome display of power. Slack jawed, or simply lost by the absolute insanity that was Syra, not a soul made a peep. 

Honestly, Varrus couldn't blame them. If, by some twist of fate, he had isekaid into a High Elf, and Syra was married to Kael instead, he'd be fucking terrified of her. 

Thankfully, she belonged to him, and he belonged to her. His very scary, very capable wife was on his side! 

Wiping away some sweat from his forehead, Varrus decided to examine the damage. 

In the end, the Necropolis, and every Undead ‘lifeform’ was eradicated. 

All that shit about Legendary Heroes being tough? Yeah, maybe Varrus had to be careful around them, but Syra was just built different…

Because she ONE SHOT the Legendary Hero!!! 

Varrus was actively trying not to lose his shit over how insanely broken his wife was right now. 

Adjustment time, balance your own strength? 

Yeah, okay. That's a big deal for the average man. But Syra? Syra was the real deal. 

How many men are so lucky as to marry a beautiful, loving woman with the power of a WMD strapped to her back? 

Varrus was both shook and prideful that he had enabled this absolute MONSTER of a woman by crafting her that beastly weapon. 

It almost brought a tear to his eye. 

…Unfortunately, half of the northern district also met its demise during this confrontation. 

‘Yaaaay.’ Varrus sarcastically cheered to himself. 

Eye twitching, Varrus felt a considerable amount of heartburn at what had just transpired. 

This floating city was the magnum opus of Telonicus, and Varrus had spent countless days worth of labor providing the materials necessary for its construction. 

However, when Syra turned back to him looking for praise and validation, he wiped away any disappointment, and pulled her to him with a swift application of telekinesis. 

Gripping her in a tight hug, and stroking her baby-soft hair, Varrus whispered sweet nothings in her ear, and kissed her openly, uncaring that an entire army were watching them. 

“Thank you for the gift, Varrus~ You know what comes next~” Syra all but purred, her hands constantly roamed all over him as extreme violence was what activated her horni. 

“After this campaign, I'll give you those 12 children. It's a promise.” Varrus gasped between breaths, barely able to keep it in his pants while Syra grinded into him. 

“Argh, Varrus! You'd better deliver.” Syra growled like a tiger in heat, and slam choked him into the wall of a building then began to make out with him. 

After this battle, none would remember that Alon guy. 

The only core memory for these soldiers would be the obliteration of a Legendary Hero….that, and their agreed upon vow of silence to never, never mock, make fun of or denigrate the embarrassing makeout session of their top two commanders. 

No words were spoken, but the heavy atmosphere and fear that permeated the air was something that the members of the Covenant would take to their graves. 

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

Note: Later this week or next, I’ll be releasing a new story I’ve been working on (21 ch written so far). I intend to get it to 25 or 30 when I do pull the trigger. Just letting you know now for when I eventually blow up your notifications.