As the departure order was issued, the ground staff evacuated with a comical speed, scattering like startled chickens. Then, with a dramatic hum, the blue crystals on the base of the Genedar lit up, throbbing with raw, concentrated power. The spaceship was launching! Slowly, majestically, it changed direction, its crystal base emitting a brilliant blue stream of light as it effortlessly soared upwards. As expected of Draenei technology, this anti-gravity system had reached its absolute peak, practically defying the laws of physics with a casual shrug. Driven by the leap engine, it broke away from the planet's gravity with a silent, powerful surge, soaring directly into the sky and penetrating Draenor's atmosphere with a satisfying whoosh!
After the spacecraft left the atmosphere, Galen, now floating weightlessly, saw the runes on the wall light up under the power of the energy crystal. He looked carefully, his eyes widening slightly, and recognized that it was a gravity control rune, used to balance the internal gravity of the spacecraft. Wonderful! No more floating coffee mugs!
Inside the spaceship, hundreds of dwarf and goblin engineers were a whirlwind of frantic, intense activity, shouting commands and tweaking dials.
"Mana shield activated! And it's only flickering slightly!"
"Water Element, Storm Element connected! They're arguing about who gets to steer!"
"Cabin pressure is normal! Mostly! Just a slight hiss from that one pipe!"
"Engine is currently outputting 30% power! And making a funny gurgling noise!"
"..."
As the goblin and dwarf technicians reported the data one by one, a rare smile finally touched Romuul's lips. "Genedar took off again... It's really..." Romuul suddenly became sentimental, a single, glistening tear forming in his eye. After all, this spaceship had accompanied the Draenei through 25,000 years of exile, a truly epic, and probably very cramped, road trip. It wasn't until the last millennium that their exile finally ended, when the Genedar fell on Draenor with a rather undignified thud.
For thousands of years, they had been utterly unable to repair Genedar. In addition to the rather inconvenient fact that the orcs had blocked the crash site as a holy mountain (because nothing says "holy" like a giant, crashed spaceship), there were also crippling technical reasons. The Draenei inherited the technology of the Eredar, yes, but they had only adapted it to the highly urbanized, incredibly convenient planet of Argus. The wild, untamed planet of Draenor did not have the developed economy, industry, and production line support like Argus, and so they had technology but absolutely no production methods. It was like having a recipe for a gourmet meal but no kitchen.
The Draenei were forced to improve their technology, recreating Argus technology on Draenor and building several crystal cities, probably with a lot of grumbling. Even so, the Draenei's technological civilization had not yet recovered to the level of Argus 25,000 years ago, otherwise they would not have been so easily defeated by the backward, surprisingly effective orcs.
After collecting his rather dramatic thoughts, Romuul issued a new order, his voice firm. "Speed up! Target Blue Beauty! And try not to get any space dust on the windows!"
There were two planets around Draenor, not far away from each other, like very large, very distant siblings. Even at the highest point of the Spires of Arak, you could clearly observe the surface of the nearest blue planet, looking like a giant, very pretty marble. This blue planet was called Blue Beauty by the natives of Draenor and was also the moon of Draenor. Genedar's test flight would return after reaching the moon, presumably after a quick photo op.
Feeling the rapid advancement of the spacecraft, Galen felt that the Draenei technology was truly amazing. They really know how to make a spaceship go fast! The test flight went smoothly, almost suspiciously so. After reaching the moon at full speed, Genedar returned to the ground of Draenor with a gentle thump and stayed steadily at the engineering center, probably much to the relief of the ground crew.
It was at this time that Galen chose to dramatically appear in front of everyone, like a benevolent, slightly smug deity. The little dwarfs and ugly goblins, now practically vibrating with joy, gathered around him, sharing their excitement with Galen, probably trying to get a raise. In the end, it was the more steady Master Craftsman and Gazlowe who rescued Galen from the enthusiastic horde, driving away these little critters with a few well-placed threats and promises of more explosions.
After his subordinates finally dispersed, Mekkatorque waved his big wrench, practically giddy with excitement. "Thank you, Galen! It's you who led us to create a new era! An era of flying! And not just with gryphons!"
"Yes, God, I didn't expect that in my lifetime, besides the glorious failure of teleportation, I could also enter space in this way! It's really hot! And surprisingly quiet!" Gazlowe was equally excited, his mouth grinning from ear to ear, probably already calculating the profits from space tourism.
Well, Galen thought, mentally retracting his earlier compliment about them being "stable." These two are not very stable either. They're practically bouncing off the walls. He pondered the implications. I just don't know whether it is a good thing or a bad thing to pull the races of Azeroth from the Age of Swords into interstellar colonization. We're going from hitting things with sticks to flying through space! That's a rather large leap.
The engineering of Azeroth originated from the Titan technology of Ulduar, but the gnomes and goblins only inherited part of the Titan engineering, probably the parts that involved blowing things up. Now, they had suddenly jumped from the steam technology of the industrial age to the information atomic energy age... But on second thought, who cares? Can it be worse than the original time and space? Probably not. At least we'll have cool spaceships.
"High Tinker, Gazlowe, Thermaplugg," Galen began, bending down and patting their shoulders with a slightly patronizing air, "this is our first attempt, but it is a great progress for all of Azeroth! A truly magnificent, potentially explosive, progress!" He paused, then asked the question he was most concerned about, his voice dropping slightly. "If you are separated from the technical assistance of the Draenei, can you independently build a space battleship that belongs to Azeroth? One that doesn't look like a giant, crystal-powered paperweight?"
With the current level of Azeroth, could it really create such a vehicle that could fly out of the planet and into the terrifying void? He hoped that Azeroth could emulate the Draenei's technology tree, use magic gem technology as a foundation, and embark on a path of development that combined magic and technology. A glorious, glowing, laser-shooting path!
The master craftsmen looked at each other, their eyes bulging, and they fell into a brief, very intense thought, probably calculating the cost in gold and explosions. "The Genedar was an old ship that was refurbished, so we didn't get involved too much, but with Vindicaar we were involved throughout the entire process!"
The Great Craftsman, who had the highest level of engineering (and probably the most impressive collection of wrenches), spoke first: "With the experience gained from the first time, apart from the core engine technology that needs to be mastered, the other module craftsman associations and the repairman associations are confident that they can complete it! It'll just take... a lot of coffee."
"How long will it take?" Galen pressed, his patience wearing thin.
"Five... no, ten years..." The construction of a spacecraft was a very confidential process, and when it came to five years, the master craftsman hesitated, probably thinking of all the paperwork. After Gazlowe stretched out his two hands, clearly indicating a much longer timeline, he changed it to ten years.
Ten years... In his memory, the Legion's return took place thirty-two years after the opening of the Dark Portal. Although he could delay the time, ten years would still be... Too long! Far too long! I don't have that kind of time! I have a Star Palace to build!
Galen made a decision in his mind, a bold, slightly reckless decision. "This is a huge project. I decided to let the entire alliance participate! Everyone gets to build a spaceship! It'll be a team-building exercise!"
"You will be in charge of the general direction and gather the blacksmiths of the Bronzebeard, Wildhammer, and Dark Iron dwarves to smelt the steel needed for the interstellar spacecraft! Tell them it's for a very large, very shiny hammer!"
"Quel'Thalas, Dalaran, Suramar, Eldre'Thalas, and Nar'thalas are the magic cities responsible for the engine technology of the spacecraft that the magicians are researching. Other races can provide manpower, or if they don't have any, they can provide supplies! And if they don't have any supplies, they can provide moral support! Or snacks!"
After saying this, Galen took out the design drawing of the Hyperion that he had treasured for a long time, a magnificent, slightly futuristic blueprint, and said, "Just build it according to this appearance. My requirements are not high. I don't need to carry out long-distance interstellar travel! Therefore, even if the power engine is only one-third of Vindicaar's, it is acceptable! Just make it fly! And look cool!"
Galen lowered his requirements, practically begging. As long as it belonged to his own interstellar fleet, it would be fine even if it just escaped the gravity of Azeroth and flew around Azeroth in a very impressive circle.
"We will definitely live up to our mission!" the great craftsmen chorused, their eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and terror.
The great craftsmen have left, probably already drawing up plans for very large, very expensive explosions. They would return to Azeroth to build a new space center, presumably one with very sturdy walls. The interstellar spacecraft was an important part of the Galen plan. As long as he had an interstellar fleet and the Sargerite Keystone that Illidan was about to get (hopefully without too much drama), he could go to any planet he wanted! Even the ones with really annoying aliens!
Although there were only two spaceships at present, the Vindicaar and the Genedar, they could still carry out their plans. Galen closed his eyes and began to search for Illidan through the Altar of Kings, hoping he wasn't in the middle of something too important.
Shattered Abyss Mardum. This was once a prison built by Sargeras in the Twisting Nether before his fall to imprison demons. This isolated prison was impregnable, and demons could only rot in it for eternity, probably complaining about the lack of Wi-Fi. Later, Sargeras, who fell into the Dark Titan, released these demons and formed the Burning Legion with them. Then this demon prison became a war transit station for invading other planets, like a very unpleasant, very fiery airport.
The years of strategy of Illidan, the soul of Mardum, has occupied 90% of the floating islands! That's right, a floating island. Sargeras's method of opening the prison and releasing the demon was simple and crude: Break it with one sword! The entire planet of Marton was torn into pieces of floating islands just like the explosion in Draenor, only with more screaming.
At this moment, Illidan was standing on the hillside of a fel volcano, looking at the last huge floating island and the Fel Hammer above the floating island! In the open space below the fel volcano was his Illidari Legion, a motley crew of doom! Demon Hunters, Draenei Broken, Destroyers, Naga, and more of Galen's base troops supporting Illidan! Hoplites, Sharpshooters, Armored Knights, and Gryphon Riders! A truly terrifying, and slightly unhygienic, army.
"Illidari!" Illidan roared, his voice echoing across the fel-scarred landscape. He was conducting pre-war mobilization, launching a final offensive to capture the Fel Hammer and seize the Key of Sargerite! The fate of the universe, or at least this floating rock, depended on it!
Drop drop!
A prompt sound came from his mind, interrupting his glorious, dramatic declaration! Among the followers of the Heart of Origin, Illidan was the most unruly one. In addition, he was a half-demon of demigod level and a demon hunter who used fel energy. Almost no followers would contact him actively! Then the one who called him could only be the boss, Galen!
Thinking about how Galen had interrupted his advance plan before and now he did it again, Illidan was a little angry, okay, very angry, so he decided to ignore it. After all, the current war was more important than whatever triviality Galen had to say!
"We have been fighting in Dreanor for four years... four glorious, bloody years!"
Drip drip!
Illidan's eyes twitched, and he calmed down, forcing himself to continue: "We are about to drive the Burning Legion out of Mardum and completely capture it... for glory! For vengeance! For...!"
Buzz Buzz!
The demon hunter's cheek muscles were tense and his back teeth were clenched tightly together. He forced himself to continue, his voice strained. "Capture this place and let the Burning Legion know that their doom is coming!! Their fiery, painful doom!"
"For the Illidari! For Lord Illidan! For Azeroth! And for the love of all that is unholy, stop beeping me!"
Although Illidan's declaration was intermittent, punctuated by increasingly furious beeps, the demon hunters below were still ignited with fighting spirit, and magic power burned in their chests! This scene satisfied the interrupted Illidan. He spread his demon wings, and under the illumination of the green light of the fel magma, he cast a huge, terrifying shadow on the Illidari below! He jumped from the mountainside to the ground, raised a war blade in his hand and pointed it at the Fel Hammer: "Go! Illidari! Kill them all... and if that beep happens again, I swear I'll turn this entire planet into a giant, silent, fel-infused paperweight!"
Drip drip!
Boom!
At this moment, Illidan couldn't bear it anymore, the evil energy in his eyes surged, making his entire face look terrifying and hideous, like a very angry, very green demon. "KILL THEM ALL! AND STOP BEEPING ME, Galen, YOU ANNOYING OVERLORD!"
The Demon Hunters were the first to rejoice, probably thinking this was just part of his dramatic pre-battle speech. They spread their wings and jumped down from the floating island, launching a furious attack towards the land where the Fel Hammer was!
"Lord Illidan looks so handsome today! So angry!"
"Yes, this declaration makes my demon blood boil! And makes me want to find out who's beeping him!"
"Kill! Fight for Lord Illidan! And for the sanctity of pre-battle speeches!"
"Death! Devil! And silence that infernal noise!"
Hearing the chaotic battle cries of his men faintly in his ears, Illidan felt that the magic power in his body was about to flow from his heart to his whole body, probably in a very painful, very green way. Finally, he couldn't help it, and his spirit sank deep into his mind, practically screaming: "Beep, beep, beep! You cosmic nuisance! What do you want?!"
Galen: "?"
After being retorted by Illidan with a series of sweet words that were full of motherly connotations (and probably a few very creative curses), Galen was stunned for a long time before he came to his senses. Damn, Illidan is going to heaven! Or hell! Or somewhere equally dramatic! But he soon thought of Illidan's violent look when he led him to attack the Eternal Palace, and guessed that this time he must have reached a critical moment again. Ugh! It was indeed very rude of me to interrupt him like this. He's probably mid-demon-slaying!
Forget it. The interstellar colonization plan couldn't be completed in a day or two anyway. He could make preparations first and start directly after Illidan got the keystone, hopefully without too many more beeps. In fact, if there were not so few planets that could withstand the huge energy required to open the Dark Portal, Galen would not have to consider other options. He could just drive to each planet one by one, like a very slow, very powerful cosmic Uber.
After leaving Draenor, Galen came to the back mountain of Holy White City, where a resurrection array had been prepared in advance, looking suspiciously like a very large, very glowing crop circle. He took out a bronze dragon egg that Garona had stolen from the Caverns of Time. It was said that this dragon egg came from the Dragon Queen Soridormi herself, probably after a particularly wild night. The dragon egg was placed in the center of the magic circle, and the subsequent operation procedures were familiar, if a little messy. In a flash of light, the dragon egg hatched, and a heroic spirit in the Altar of Kings regained his body, probably with a very loud groan.
"Murozond salutes the Grand Lord!" a tiny, squeaky voice announced.
"Welcome back, my Eternal Dragon King!" Galen boomed, trying to sound majestic.
The one who was resurrected was the Eternal Dragon King Murozond, who had been dead for almost ten years, probably very annoyed at being woken up. In the form of a young dragon, Murozond held his breath for a long time before he squeezed out a bit of magic power from his weak, newly resurrected body and performed the transformation spell. However, perhaps he lacked energy and did not transform into the high elf who liked to expose his upper body, but instead turned into a human child, looking rather bewildered.
The child Murozond looked up, his eyes wide, and asked Galen: "Is there anything I can do for you, Lord? And why am I so... short?"
Galen looked surprised: "Why don't you become a high elf? You usually do! Did you forget how?"
"The first principle of illusion: choose the mortal overlord of the current era," Murozond explained seriously, as if reciting from a very ancient, very dusty textbook. "Obviously, humans have risen and surpassed the night elves. Now is the era of humans! And children are less suspicious!"
"Oh..." Galen didn't know whether the Eternal Dragon King was flattering him or not, but it didn't matter. He got straight to the point: "How much time power do you have left? Can you take people on a time travel trip? And try not to break the timeline this time."
"Only one out of ten survives..." Murozond looked heartbroken, as if he'd just remembered a very bad investment. "But the blessing of the Father of the Gods has penetrated into my soul. It only takes a little time to recover. It won't be a problem to lead people through time! Just don't ask me to do it quickly!"
"How long will it take?" Galen pressed.
"Several people?" Murozond asked, already looking tired.
"Two... no, three!" Galen decided, adding an extra person for good measure.
Murozond was silent for a while, probably doing very complicated temporal calculations in his tiny head. "Ten days! I need ten days! And a very large nap!"
"It is good!" Galen declared, already planning his next cosmic adventure.