Just then, a golden portal burst open at the very spot where the dragon had first appeared. A deep, commanding voice roared from within.
The Infinite Dragon's face darkened instantly. With a flash, he shifted back into his dragon form, planting himself between Ancient One and the portal, eyes sharp with caution.
But things grew worse. The single golden portal multiplied, again and again, until dozens surrounded them on all sides. And from each one, the same booming voice echoed.
The Infinite Dragon bellowed and unleashed a blast of shadowy breath at one portal. But from within came a golden breath, colliding with his attack and canceling it out.
Then from the portals emerged shape after shape—dozens of pale golden dragons, nearly identical in form.
Bronze Dragons. The eternal rivals of the Infinite dragons.
Though there seemed to be many, in truth there was only one: an adult bronze dragon. But this was their terrifying gift—they could summon their own selves from different points in time to fight at once.
I am one. I am ten. I am hundreds. And if powerful enough, I am countless.
The Infinite Dragon's eyes grew solemn. As a fallen offshoot of the bronze flight, he had the same ability. But he was still young, and could call no more than a dozen of his past and future selves. His foe, an adult, could summon far more.
Even so, he had no choice. He too began summoning different versions of himself, preparing for a desperate clash.
"Hmph. At last you stop running, monster! And now you even shield that human? What have you done to her? Wait… why can't I see her in the timeways?"
The bronze dragon fully revealed his true body, a gleaming form over twice the size of the Infinite Dragon, stretching dozens of meters long.
But the bronze dragon's attention was quickly pulled away from its pinned foe. The faint, phantom-like body of Ancient One caught its eyes—her blurred form a sign she was deep within the timeways.
Yet when the bronze dragon reached into the currents of time to search, it found nothing. No trace of her at all.
"Die!" the Infinite Dragon roared, ignoring all words, building up dragonfire for a desperate strike.
"Hmph. Pointless struggle." The bronze dragon swiped lazily with its claw. The fireball shattered like glass. Another swipe pressed the Infinite Dragon hard into the earth.
Across all timelines, the battle was much the same. The Infinite Dragon was completely outmatched.
With its enemy subdued, the bronze dragon turned its gaze back to Ancient One.
"Let me see what secrets you hold."
It ignored the Infinite Dragon's furious roars and thrashing. Extending its claw, it reached for Ancient One.
She might be cloaked in the timeways, but to a bronze dragon—masters of time itself—that meant little.
Yet just as the claw was about to touch her, Ancient One opened her eyes. Her figure solidified again.
Her pupils had turned black—utterly black, like cosmic voids, bottomless as a singularity.
The bronze dragon's heart jolted.
But pride quickly drowned that flicker of unease. It was a bronze dragon, after all. How could it fear a mere mortal? With anger rising, it pressed harder, its massive claw descending with deadly force.
In that instant, the dragon's eyes widened.
For in Ancient One's hand now gleamed a dagger—its shape strange, runes burning across it, shadows clinging to its blade. Black light pulsed along its edge.
At her feet lay the small sealed box—the one the Infinite Dragon had given her. Inside had been this dagger.
Ancient One flicked her wrist, a simple motion. Yet the little dagger seemed to cut through space and time itself, stabbing into some hidden corner of the timeways.
The bronze dragon felt a terror it had never known. It wanted to flee. But it could not move.
Then the blade struck.
Pain like nothing else ripped through its soul. Its essence trembled and screamed in silence. It could not roar, could not cry out. It could not escape.
Dark power spread from the wound in its soul, flooding its whole body. One by one, in every timeline, its forms were corrupted, eaten away, collapsing into black dust.
And then—nothing. The bronze dragon was gone. Across all time, all versions of it were erased by that single dagger's strike.
As the bronze foe perished, the Infinite Dragon beneath its claws broke free, gasping.
"Congratulations, Supreme One!" It dropped to one knee, bowing deeply. No trace of triumph, only awe, as it saluted Ancient One—the dagger still in her hand.
"Get up… I understand now. This choice was unexpected, but not a bad one. So, Xal'atath? Your whispers are far from enough… but you are a fine weapon." Ancient One stroked the dagger in her hand and spoke softly.
This dagger was none other than the infamous priest artifact of shadow in Azeroth—the Blade of the Black Empire, Xal'atath. How it had ended up in the Infinite Dragon's claws, and why it had been delivered to her, remained a mystery.
"By the way, I don't yet know your name." Ancient One put away the dagger and looked at the dragon.
"Slokna is willing to serve you," the Infinite Dragon bowed its head to the ground and answered with reverence.
"Good. I happen to be short of an errand-runner. You don't mind, do you?" Ancient One patted Slokna on the head as though petting a dog.
"It is my honor!" Slokna shivered under her touch and answered at once.
"Excellent. Then come, let's make a trip to Ahn'Qiraj. You should also meet your counterpart in this world." Ancient One nodded slightly.
Slokna said nothing, but lowered himself to the ground, his posture showing his submission.
Ancient One stepped into the air, walking across the void until she stood steady on his back.
Sensing her balance, Slokna rose and opened a portal before them. Without hesitation, he leapt through.
When they emerged, they were already in a desert of endless sand.
Far ahead rose massive, towering walls. Behind them loomed a grand yet decayed cityscape.
This was one of the most dangerous places on Azeroth—the prison of the Old God C'Thun, heart of the Qiraji empire.
The Temple of Ahn'Qiraj, locked behind the great Scarab Wall.
Normally, the Wall bore the seals left by the guardian dragons and the night elves, almost impossible for mortals to break (A/N: he author admits he never actually finished that questline in all his years of Warcraft, being more of a casual who kept quitting and returning!).
But to Ancient One, this seal was nothing.
She walked quietly up to the gates. Xal'atath appeared once more in her hand. With a single thrust, a tide of black power spread from the dagger, seeping into the massive stone gates.
Almost instantly, an answering wave of darkness swelled from within. C'Thun—sensing the presence of a fellow Old God—reached back eagerly. The sealed horror thought its faithful had finally come to free it.
The resonance tore the seal apart. The Scarab Wall cracked and crumbled, the mighty gates collapsing into ruin.
Before Ancient One now lay the vast city of Ahn'Qiraj, revealed at last.
At the same moment, more than a hundred kilometers away in Cenarion Hold, the stationed night elf commander Malris jolted awake. He had felt the overwhelming surge of dark power from afar.
Within minutes, the mournful blare of war horns thundered across the fortress. And several enchanted owls took flight, racing toward Feralas at full speed.
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