The blessing of the TitanSoul, it turned out, wasn't some flimsy, one-and-done party favor. Oh no, it was a widespread, persistent, and frankly, aggressively lasting cosmic upgrade. Varian, for instance, after dragging his son back to Stormwind and enduring a few days of bureaucratic purgatory, suddenly felt a surge of raw, unadulterated power. His rank, previously a respectable "legendary high-level warrior," now vibrated with an almost comical intensity. He was just one glorious, heroic, probably very sweaty step away from the absolute peak!
Meanwhile, Queen Tiffin, who had been diligently chaperoning Prince Anduin through his various royal tantrums, woke up one morning to find something truly miraculous: the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes had vanished! Poof! Gone! Her body felt like she'd chugged a gallon of liquid youth, healthier than a freshly picked apple. She probably looked ten years younger, much to the exasperation of every other noblewoman in Stormwind.
Over in Thunder Bluff, a few days after Baine and Meera returned, their tent, previously a humble abode, was inexplicably covered in lush showers of vibrant plants. Their iconic, ancient totem pole, not far away, had practically thrown a party, regaining its vitality with such gusto that it sprouted so many new buds, it left the venerable Hamuul Runetotem utterly dumbfounded, probably muttering about "overzealous nature spirits."
And the miracles didn't stop there, oh no. Two months after King Drake returned to Boralus, the palace was abuzz with news that sent the long-suffering, long-waiting citizens into a frenzy of excited squawking: the Queen was pregnant! The Star Soul, it seemed, was also moonlighting as the universe's most efficient fertility goddess.
In Suramar, a withered mage, previously a gaunt, twitching testament to magic addiction and general misery, actually began to recover towards the glorious state of a Nightfallen elf, simply because he had the good fortune to stand near Thalyssra! This discovery sent the Nightborne into a collective, astonished frenzy. Perhaps their entire population of withered, grumpy mages now had hope of becoming normal, slightly less grumpy, and definitely less withered Nightborne again! The implications were staggering!
When these bizarre, increasingly unbelievable pieces of information were relayed to Galen, one by one, he was rendered utterly, hilariously speechless.
Is it really that magical? he thought, rubbing his temples. Seriously?
There were plenty of Titans in the Pantheon, each with their own cosmic specialties. Aman'thul, the god-king who controlled time, probably just made sure his tea was always perfectly brewed. Norgannon, master of arcana, knowledge, secrets, and mysteries, was probably just a cosmic librarian. Others included Eonar, the representative of life, nature, and healing (who clearly had a hand in Tiffin's sudden glow-up), and Golganneth, the king of the heavens and waves (who probably just surfed through nebulae).
But the Azeroth Star Soul? She was so ridiculously, wildly diverse! She also served as the otherworldly version of the Goddess of Childbearing, apparently! Galen's imagination ran wild, veering into truly uncomfortable territory. I just don't know if this effect works on Demigods and above... he pondered, a mischievous glint in his eye. Could I... could I get a six-pack without lifting a finger?
After the Lantern Festival celebrations finally wound down, Stromgarde, having hosted a cosmic circus, returned to its normal, slightly less chaotic life.
Since Galen had been crowned king at the Feast of Winter Veil at the end of the 19th year after the Dark Gate (a truly epic, if slightly chilly, ceremony), he had been burdened with the glorious, often headache-inducing mantle of Alliance leader. Now, at the beginning of the 25th year, he had already endured the Nightmare War (which was exactly as terrifying as it sounded), reopened Angela (whoever that was), and somehow, inexplicably, connected Pandaria and the Cataclysm.
After five years of "working hard to govern" (which mostly involved delegating to incredibly competent people) and "dealing with all kinds of affairs" (which mostly involved signing things and looking important), they had initially achieved the rather modest goal of keeping the enemy out of the country. More importantly, they had allowed the long-suffering people of Azeroth to stay away from war and, crucially, recuperate. Now, it was time for the real fun to begin.
Next, he would embark on the grand, utterly ambitious "Alliance's Second Five-Year Plan." This masterstroke of strategic genius covered almost all aspects of existence: science and technology, military, economy, and probably a few things he hadn't even thought of yet, all designed to enhance the strength of the Alliance to utterly ridiculous levels.
Technology, for instance, with Ulduar's Titan engineering as its glorious, glowing core, would be improved into war machines so terrifyingly efficient that when the Burning Legion finally showed up, they wouldn't have to use swords to pathetically chop at spaceships. Oh no, they'd have actual, proper, planet-destroying weapons!
Militarily, they would build military fortresses in every important area of the four continents: the Eastern Kingdoms, Kalimdor, Northrend, and Pandaria. These wouldn't just be fortresses; they'd be impenetrable bastions, designed to deal with the Burning Legion's utterly disgusting tactics of airborne space battleships and blooming everywhere like a particularly aggressive cosmic fungus.
Economy... well, he wouldn't say much about that. Without mountains of gold, the first two things were just empty, glorious dreams. Azeroth was so ridiculously big, and there were so many fortresses that needed to be built (and probably staffed with highly paid, well-fed soldiers). From the beginning to the end, Galen never deluded himself into thinking he could do it all by himself. This required the enthusiastic, unwavering, and financially substantial support of all Alliance countries. The ultimate goal? To enhance the strength of all the alliance countries and prepare for the Legion's inevitable, fiery return!
However, the development of the Alliance, as grand as it sounded, wasn't Galen's main obsession. What he really relied on was his own, personal, ridiculously overpowered Heart of Origin! He immersed his mind in the Holy White City, a place of pure, unadulterated digital ambition.
There was a golden arrow in the building icon of the level 5 imperial capital, practically glowing with untapped potential. After locking the arrow, a row of red, accusatory prompts flashed: "Please upgrade to the level 6 Star Palace to unlock more buildings and units. Unlock condition: Population exceeds 100 million. Current population: /"
Ugh! Galen groaned internally. It's just a small goal! Others have it when they are born, but it took nearly ten years for the population of Galen to reach nearly 70 million, and two-thirds of them are still farmers! Farmers! Do you know how many farmers it takes to make a Star Palace? Too many!
This made him look forward to it with a mix of desperate longing and utter despair. Ugh! I don't know when I will get what I want! What I want...
It seemed utterly impossible to exceed 100 million people in five years by relying solely on the two planets of Azeroth and Draenor, unless he literally hollowed out Azeroth and turned it into a giant, populated cheese wheel. However, he wasn't entirely sure whether the sixth-level Star Palace could actually fight against Sargeras, the ultimate cosmic bad guy, so he didn't dare to dig too much and inadvertently affect the growth of the Star Soul. That would be awkward.
Thinking of this, Galen finally fixed his eyes on the icons of his most promising (and occasionally infuriating) followers: Illidan, the brooding demon hunter, and the hero M'nodozi, whoever that was. Whether it succeeds or not, it all depends on you two! Don't screw this up!
Suppressing the rather intense urgency (and mild panic) in his heart, Galen calmed down and began to meticulously write the Alliance plan. First things first: with the base farm and the Valley of the Four Winds in Pandaria, there would be no famine in Azeroth for the time being. Food was plentiful, which meant... it was time to encourage childbirth. Lots and lots of childbirth.
Next step: develop the economy. This was something Galen was notoriously bad at. The only way he could reliably make money was to open branch mines and set up caravans, which felt a bit too much like playing a very slow, very boring board game. Fortunately, he was a superb hands-off boss and didn't need to handle many government affairs himself. He had elites! Elites who helped him think about major economic tasks, while he focused on more exciting things, like blowing things up.
Therefore, his work focused primarily on military and technology. First, he needed to mark exactly where to build a military fortress, preferably one that looked intimidating. In his previous life, he had famously AFKed in the middle of the Warlords of Draenor version, probably off playing something more exciting. Later, he heard it was super fast to create a new account in the new version to take advantage of the Legion invasion, so he, being a true gamer, created four or five new accounts at once.
He recalled with terrifying ease the invasion events of his previous life, just before the Legion's grand, fiery entrance. There were a total of six areas where the Burning Legion's fleet had rudely invaded: Azshara, Northern Barrens, Tanaris, Hillbrad, Dun Morogh, and Westfall. These six areas, he decreed, would be the front line in defending the starry sky, the first (and hopefully last) line of defense against cosmic nastiness.
Azshara's fortress was graciously given to Velen, who probably just wanted a quiet place to meditate. Dun Morogh was, naturally, in charge of the dwarves, who would undoubtedly fill it with explosives and loud, drunken singing. And the Western Plains belonged to Stormwind Kingdom, who would probably just send a lot of very polite, very well-armed guards.
The remaining areas of Tanaris, Golden Plains, and Hillsbrad would be the solemn responsibility of Galen himself. The Burning Legion's tactics, relying on its ridiculously high technological level and airborne warships to attack the enemy, were frankly disgusting. The spaceship leads the way, then they air-drop Eredar warlocks to open a portal, and if there's any omission, a large number of demons flood into their world, followed by more Eredar warlocks opening more portals. It was a logistical nightmare!
Based on the current situation, the wall of Azeroth had not yet been riddled with holes by the impact of Exodar (thankfully, that was a future problem) and was currently relatively intact. But those six places were indeed where the spatial barriers were relatively weak, but not all of them! Other countries and ethnic forces in the Alliance simply could not let down their guard. With a dramatic wave of his hand, Galen established more than a dozen new, shiny, secondary military outposts! Take that, Legion!
After the marking was completed, Galen, with a flourish, handed the entire, meticulously planned document directly to Darien, instructing him to distribute the plan to each member country of the Alliance and let them start building fortresses. He was a hands-off boss, remember?
Next, he was going to see the magnificent achievements of the goblins, gnomes, and draenei over the years. Tearing open a return scroll with a dramatic rip, Galen teleported directly to the planet Draenor, ready for more technological marvels!
Two enormous spaceships, looking like something out of a particularly ambitious child's drawing, were hovering majestically over the southwestern plains of the beautiful and vibrant Nagrand grassland. The shapes of these two spacecraft were quite peculiar, roughly divided into two parts, upper and lower, like a very confused, very large, metallic sandwich. Below them were colossal crystals, one glowing golden, the other a serene blue. Huge, shining golden magic patterns were intricately engraved on the surface of the crystals, making them look like giant, very expensive disco balls. Above the crystal was the actual spaceship hull, and above that was a dome-like building, looking like a city in the sky built on a crystal mountain! It was both magnificent and utterly bizarre.
Galen didn't know the combat effectiveness of these two spaceships, but their sturdiness should be absolutely guaranteed. At least, in his memory, when Exodar and the former Oshu'gun had fallen (which they did, rather spectacularly), only parts of them were broken, and the overall structure was still surprisingly intact. They were like the cockroaches of the cosmos.
In the middle of the two spaceships was a truly colossal engineering center! It had been expanded on the basis of the base building airport, probably with a lot of explosions and shouting. The most conspicuous thing was the thick, pulsating purple energy pipes that connected the land of Draenor directly to the two spaceships, looking like giant, glowing umbilical cords.
Galen's eyelids twitched. The Draenei-style spaceship, now equipped with Titan technology's energy transmission pipeline, looked weird no matter how you looked at it. It was like putting a top hat on a spaceship.
"Oh! Lord, you are here! Finally! We thought you got lost in a particularly shiny bush!"
When Galen looked up, a green-skinned goblin, practically vibrating with impatience, had already materialized at his side.
"It's you, Blackthorn," Galen said, glancing down at the goblin wearing ridiculously oversized engineering goggles. He recognized him immediately. "Are you the only one here? Where are Thermaplugg and Gazlowe? Are they off inventing something that will inevitably explode?"
"They are making final adjustments with Bishop Romuul in the Genedar!" Blackthorn announced, pointing a greasy finger at the spaceship with a blue crystal base. The Genedar was the spaceship that Velen took the Draenei to escape from Argus, which later crashed spectacularly in Draenor and became a sacred mountain for the orcs. Later, after A'dal brought the Storm Fortress fleet to Draenor, Galen, ever the opportunist, obtained a lot of materials from this expeditionary force and had Genedar dug out for repair. It was like finding a crashed luxury car and deciding to fix it up.
"What about the one next to it?" Galen muttered to himself, genuinely confused. "I remember that we only planned to repair the Genedar, right?" Draenor had always been managed by Governor Medivh, and Galen hadn't paid attention to it for too long. Suddenly, there was a brand new spaceship...
Blackthorn shrugged his shoulders, a gesture that somehow conveyed both indifference and extreme impatience. "After repairing the crashed Genedar, we gained a lot of new knowledge. A lot. In order to verify and familiarize ourselves with this knowledge, we spent a lot of energy and materials to build the new spaceship Vindicaar under the expert (and very expensive) guidance of the Draenei technicians! It was a blast! Literally!"
"Um..."
Vindicaar... Galen thought, a slow realization dawning on him. After circling around, the spaceship finally appeared. Of course, it did. It's always the quiet ones.
"Come on, take me to have a look..."
"Then let's hurry up!" Blackthorn practically shrieked, already pressing a button on his belt. The boots on his feet instantly spewed out bright red flames, carrying him straight towards the spaceship floating in the air, leaving a faint smell of singed hair.
"Whoa oh oh oh!" Galen exclaimed, utterly dumbfounded. "Hold the grass!"
What an anxious goblin! Galen thought, shaking his head. But he didn't believe for a second that the engineers here usually flew directly like Blackthorn! At least those dignified Draenei would never do such a rash, potentially explosive thing! Galen didn't want to either! He preferred a more... elegant approach.
So he stretched out his palm, aimed it at the black rope that had flown nearly a hundred meters away, and made a dramatic, pulling motion!
Take a leap of faith!
"Whoa oh oh oh!" The smoothly flying Blackthorn was suddenly yanked back, screaming comically, and unceremoniously dumped on the ground right in front of Galen.
"Time is money, great lord! Why are you pulling me back?! My precious seconds are ticking away!" Blackthorn whined, scrambling to his feet.
"Humph! Don't play all these fancy tricks, Blackthorn. Just take the normal path! We're not in a goblin stunt show!"
"Oh, alright!" Blackthorn grumbled, rubbing his backside. He then, surprisingly, stood up and obediently led Galen to the engineering center.
Passageways, elevators, access control... Blackthorn kept chattering along the way, complaining that every time he walked through these passages, he felt like he was wasting precious time, precious money, and his precious, short life. Galen, however, ignored him. This was his first time to visit, and he just wanted to see something new. However, he had secretly decided that next time, he would either fly up directly from the ground or simply teleport directly into the spaceship. No more walking for him.
"Blackthorn," Galen asked, genuinely curious, "are those crystal stones absolutely necessary for building spaceships? They look... sparkly."
It was said that the technology tree of the Eredar civilization originated from an Atama crystal left by the Naaru when they visited Argus. After in-depth research, the Eredar had unlocked the secrets of crystal technology, mining gem crystals and building crystal forges to purify and forge crystals. These two spaceships, covered with sapphire crystals, looked quite magical, but frankly, they lacked a certain oomph of technology. Apparently, Galen preferred a sense of technology that involved more visible wires and less glowing rocks.
"Oh! Lord, most of the technology we are using now comes from Draenei technology," Blackthorn shrugged again, clearly bored by the technical details. "Those crystals are the main body of the spacecraft and also the energy reserve of the spacecraft. The energy required for the thrusters is provided by the crystals, and during the flight, those crystals can also absorb the free arcane energy in the starry sky! It's like a giant, very expensive, very shiny battery!"
Blackthorn was not dissatisfied. After all, the spaceship couldn't be made to look like a giant gold coin, so any appearance was the same to him. Galen nodded. Azeroth's engineering was at most in the steam age a few years ago, and the focus of Titan technology was not interstellar travel. No, Titans didn't need spaceships at all; they just floated around like giant, cosmic, grumpy clouds. So far, he had only come into contact with the Draenei, a race capable of interstellar travel. There was still no sign of the Protoss, who were originally supposed to come to Outland and probably build something even shinier.
It seems that if you want to unlock new spaceships, you still have to upgrade your base and climb higher on the technology tree! Galen thought, a familiar longing stirring in his heart. My Hyperion! I want to have it!
Under the impatient guidance of Blackthorn, Galen finally came to the top of the engineering center, a bustling hub of whirring gears and frantic goblins. This was the passage connecting directly to the spacecraft.
"High Lord," Blackthorn announced, pointing with dramatic flair, "the left leads to the Genedar, and the right leads to the Vindicaar! Which one do you want to see? Choose wisely, time is money!"
"Go to Genedar," Galen declared, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I want to participate in the test flight! I've always wanted to ride a giant crystal!"
"Oh! Then we have to hurry! Gazlowe and the others have already installed the warp drive! I'm afraid they will take off soon, with or without us!" Blackthorn didn't wait for Galen; he moved his short, stubby legs with surprising speed, practically a blur, and ran into the passage on the left.
Galen, amused, followed closely and quickly entered the spacecraft. Well, the internal structure of Genedar hadn't changed much, and it wasn't even much different from Exodar. You could see blue crystals inlaid on the wall at a distance, glowing faintly. In addition to lighting, they probably also served to provide energy to various areas inside the hull, like very fancy, very large nightlights.
The goblin tinkerers and gnome craftsmen in the cabin were all practically bouncing with excitement. The dignified Draenei technician Bishop Romuul had just announced that the jump engine had been installed and could finally be put into space for testing! Although the transformation of many areas had not been completed, and even the weapon system hadn't been installed (a minor detail, surely), the sheer fact that they could conduct space flight tests was enough to send these technology geeks into a frenzy of delighted squeals.
Seeing that Blackthorn was about to go over and say hello, probably to complain about something, Galen simply pulled him aside and found a quiet corner to wait, like a very patient, very powerful parent. After Thermaplugg, Gazlowe, and Mekkatorque triple-checked the spaceship (probably arguing the whole time), they finally came to Bishop Romuul and reported: "Bishop! We are ready! And nothing has exploded yet!"
Bishop Romuul, ever calm, nodded serenely. "Notify the ground and prepare to set off! And try not to hit any birds!"
"Oh yeah!"
"Space! Here we come! And hopefully, we'll come back!"