Who a King Must Do Ch. 16

"Are you certain of this?" Anduin asked, picking up the empty Blade of the Black Empire. Though still organic in appearance, the eye was staring dully and moving only in accordance to gravity. It wasn't dead, the flesh pulsating with Shadow infested liquids, but there was no will sealed inside. Now that the High King knew that it was a prison for Xal'atath, an immensely weakened Old God, rather than the entity itself, he looked at the dagger differently.

Nevertheless, Xal'atath insisted in a shivering tone, "Bring it over here." The cum-soaked voidborne would have met him or simply done the moving herself, but she couldn't feel her hips or legs whatsoever. In fact, most of her was barely able to move. Even her upper body was raised of the metal ground only with the support of her elbows. Whenever a bit of feeling resurged in her nethers, in the shape of an aftershock that almost rivalled a proper orgasm, that posture was threatened as she moaned and writhed. Aside from the liquid itself, she had absorbed a ludicrous amount of her master's energies. "Master," she tasted the word.

Now that she felt this admiration for Anduin, his strength and his unique ability to make her feel the Light, it was a different word. Before it described those who she must serve, because they had made her and none other choice was given. It described, with pragmatic futility, those who dominated her existence.

The High King, she called him master because she now felt that, at his side, even the Void Lords were no threat. Sure, they could devour existence itself, but only if they ever reached it. Until now, helping them in that had been her purpose. Now it felt like a mind controlling effect had been lifted off her. Not unlikely, given that (in her time as a proper Old God) her own minions had never been able to feel anything but veneration for her either.

Yet, Anduin didn't replace that with a similar effect. He simply let her be herself and for that... she loved him. How peculiar that such a feeling could even flutter inside her chest. He kneeled down to her with the dagger in hand, presenting the curved blade to her.

"Before, the Blade of the Black Empire was my prison," Xal'atath explained, running her long fingernails over the flat side of living metal. "A place I could not escape, where the other four had left me in case they would ever find use for me again. The seal is broken now, so I might as well reform this weapon for my own uses... you prefer longswords, do you not, my master?"

It was true that Anduin, when engaged in melee liked longswords more than daggers. Although initially terrible in close quarter combat, his recent exploits had made him skilled in that regard. As he had always had superb physical abilities, it was likely the change of mindset that had allowed him to excel. A war changed a man, after all, especially if they fought a Bitch Queen. "Indeed, Xal'atath."

The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine. Such softness for a name that stood for consuming all energy in the known universe, he didn't care about her hostile nature, only for her. What odd a bliss to feel. Suddenly she was incredibly happy about having chosen the form of such an attractive woman, even as the ease of manipulation was replaced with joy about being erotic to behold.

She grabbed the blade, pulling its edge against her exposed palm. Rather than the elven form bleeding, the dagger began to contort in its form. Hastily, Anduin let go, as the weapon was absorbed into the Old Goddess body. The void elf before him disappeared, transformed into a sword.

A longsword of the same aesthetic as the dagger now lay on the floor. It had a double edged blade, with a straight back and curved tip. Towards the bottom, shortly above the guard, the blade had a hollow spot that was filled with a freely hovering, white eye with a purple slit for a pupil. A spiked extension grew out in front of the fleshy grip, a protection for Anduin's fingers as he grabbed Xal'atath and raised her up. The handle was long enough to be used for one- or two-handed attacks.

In weight, she was completely indifferent from Shalamayne, while her appearance definitely reminded Anduin of his father's blade, just deeply corrupted by the Shadow. The eye was exactly at the same spot as the hovering sphere of gold was in Shalamayne.

First, he swung her around testily, then he summoned the second blade as well and danced around on the spot for a while. Just like the Light and Shadow those blades represented, it felt completely natural to wield them.

'I can shift between this state and my true body whenever I wish,' Xal'atath informed him. 'I would simply collapse again if I tried now, so I will spare me the humiliation of demonstration. Nevertheless, you will never be without a wife on your travels ever again.'

'...I have several questions,' Anduin found himself thinking and, before he could present them, his newest cumslut was already answering them. Present in his thoughts, as she was, he didn't need to formulate them.

'The enticing shape of a void elf shall from this day until the day of your demise be my true form - Unless you find a different one I can take to be more attractive to you,' she began. Anduin was absolutely certain that he did not want her to grow extra teeth and tentacles, so this was all good. 'What else do you worry about...? Ah, yes, our child. Until the late stages of my pregnancy, these transformations will not harm it in any way... do you wish for a boy or a girl, your majesty?'

'I can choose?' Anduin asked and immediately shook his head, scolding himself for even putting normal biological expectations on something as deeply alien as an Old Goddess. 'It is up to you.'

'A girl it shall be then,' Xal'atath had already expected that answer and made a decision. She was fine with serving him now, more than fine in fact, but that didn't change her nature of wanting to scheme three steps ahead, around, through and above of everybody else. 'Although it will take quite a while until you get to meet her...'

'I thought you could give birth basically instantly?' not only did he remember her saying something like that, voidborne normally came in sheer endless numbers.

'If you want a mere minion, I could use your seed in that capacity as of this moment,' Xal'atath explained. 'For a proper offspring and heir to both of us, wielding our powers and free of the Lords grip as you made me, to birth such a being I will require seven millennia.' That was a frankly ludicrous amount of time to Anduin, who was barely over eighteen. All signs indicated that he would become immortal, however, given in how much magic he was drenched in. Between Xal'atath and Tyrande, it wasn't like he wasn't fucking other ancients either. 'Even if you don't live to see her, I ask of you to leave this to my will - she will be my eternal memory of you,' Xal'atath pleaded.

'As you wish then,' Anduin conceded the point. It seemed Jaina would remain the person who gave first to his first child (eventual bastards not included). 'What is it about 'wife' then?'

'If you are to be my beloved master, than I shall be queen,' the aristocratic, if still somewhat moaning, tone of the Old Goddess factually laid down. 'Third queen seems to be below me, but I will surely not be a simple slave. Do you deny me the privilege you extended to everyone else?'

Well, he wasn't going to, but this would certainly be a bit hard an optic to sell to his people. Except they were already fine with him doing everything else with the Shadow, so they probably wouldn't complain even if he wed a literal Old God. They trusted in his ability so far, so why stop there? 'Omnius is probably going to support this even...' Anduin thought and then was suddenly reminded of where he was. 'Xal'atath, could you free everyone from your spell, please?'

Over the recent events he had completely forgotten about the adventurers and guards still pressed against the wall by an invisible force. '...They would have made for tasty snacks... but you are my master now, so I shall obey,' all of them suddenly dropped to the floor as the spell was undone.

"Today is ONE HELL OF A DAY!" the leader of the adventurer's announced when he looked around. "Everyone alright?"

"Only horny," one of the female party members jokingly reported. "That was one nice show there."

"By the Light, Gizebellesta, I was worried sick through the whole thing!" the leader shouted back. "It looked we would ever be a meal for some emergent void creature or the meal for an emergent shadow king!"

"Well, I am sure I could have convinced possessed Anduin to just fuck me brainless instead," the woman in question answered.

"... You and your fucking rape fetish, I swear to everything."

Anduin ignored the continuous bickering of the party in favour of heading towards a duo at the side. The guard that had lost part of him to G'huun was sitting there, clutching the little stump of an arm he still had left.

While he seemed as happy about their survival as the rest of them, his enthusiasm was understandably curbed. His night elven slave was at his side and gently caressing him, any words had already been said.

"Your services today will never be forgotten," the king assured, putting his hand on the guards shoulder. They both understood that, crippled as he was, he could no longer work in the king's guard. "I will see to it that the best gnome technician will engineer a replacement and that you will be reassigned whatever job in the military you want."

"I thank you, my king," the guard lowered his head. That was all the exchange needed. Anduin headed back towards the place where his armour and clothes laid scattered. It took a bit to get them back on, but once he did, he realized he could save himself the future trouble by sending the entire armour into the void with Xal'atath's vessel and Shalamayne, leaving him only in the tight shirt and pants that he wore underneath.

"Okay then, maggots!" the leader was done with his bickering. "As FUN as this was, let's get out of here before the Horde gets wind of the High King being here and gets us all into trouble. We are starting the next betting pool of 'How many days until the next threat to our world' once we had a good night's rest... everything okay, Aclysia?"

The demon hunter was still on the floor, having only fought herself to all fours while everyone else was standing already. "Hrrrr... hrrrrr..." she let out stuttering breaths that sounded animalistic and somewhat threatening. Fel energy was mixed in her breathe, not as fire but as fine greenish, pink mix. "I am... hrrr... alright, yes..." she answered, her head moving to lock her supernatural sight on the hand that was stretched down to her.

"Let me help you," he High King offered, but found his offer ignored and the white-haired woman stumble to her feet and away from him.

"Stay away... we won't get out of here soon if you don't," she gasped and walked in a very odd, thigh-clenching way. Anduin guessed what was going on and gave her the space with a smile. It seemed Aclysia had made her choice regarding him. At the very least her body had. From the moaning gasp she let out as she walked, it was pretty clear that the king was going to like this choice.

________________________________________________________________________

With G'huun and his minions vanquished, it seemed that the titan facility slowly restored itself. Small robots began forming and bigger statues channelled light magic into the blight that festered in the corners. It was the start of a long process of first cleansing the building and then the surrounding lands. Still, this was good news, as it would drastically reduce the amount of time this land would need to heal.

If everything went well, the mending process would only complete after Anduin had already finished in his conquests. Should it heal long before then, this was also fine with him. He would rather have people live a good life on healthy soil, even if they happened to be his enemies.

MOTHER met them on the way back out. Her robotic voice had something like admiration reverberating inside it when she recounted their likelihood of both success and survival to have been abysmally low. She made no apology of the fact that it her beam that had caused them to almost die, didn't even make mention of it. To her logic circuits, nothing of the sort was necessary.

The adventurer's thought otherwise and bombarded the titan construct with demands of a reward. Anduin soon found out why all of them were covered head to toe in epic piece of armour and armed with weapons of legend - They remorselessly took with them any trinket that looked even remotely useful.

While he wasn't quite sure if he approved of such behaviour, Anduin was not about to state they weren't justified in claiming some rewards. Neither the facility nor the corpses of their enemies would miss what the party took anyway.

Eventually, they left the facility and took a deep breathe in, one of freedom and filled with the stench of a bog filled with blood magic and necromancy. They missed the ventilation of the titan facility already, but if they wanted to go home they still needed to cross it.

The stench was even worse than before and in the distance Anduin could hear moans, cries and screams, all of the despairing and brutal variety, from primal lungs, shouted across the landscape without grace. The sudden silence of their ever-whispering god must have sent the blood trolls into a frenzy. Now they were busy destroying themselves. After all, the only thing that had bound these tribes together was their unified worship of the Old God. Nobody would bemoan their end, not even Anduin. Aside from the loss of life, there was no tragedy to be found in the end of a civilization built on sacrifices and rot.

"High King Anduin," an immensely deep voice and melodic voice caught their attention. It was accompaniment by the sound of several hundred kilos of muscles squelching through the mud on thick hooves. An impressive symphony of metal rang through the air as all of Anduin's guards entered a defensive stance at once, their blades pointing at the three figures that approached them.

"Stand down," Anduin told them and the same symphony echoed again as he walked towards them. He had no animosity or reason to fear the figures before him, particularly because of who lead them. Accompanied by Valtrois and a troll female, wearing a highly ornate gown and even more ornate, frankly ridiculously tall hat, both articles of white, gold and purple colour and covered in tusks and feathers, stomped a tauren.

He wore very little, basically just wristband, a wreathe of white feather's behind his head and a loincloth. Gold rings decorated his proud horns and large nostrils. On his back the bull of a humanoid carried two totems carved from dense wood as if they weighed nothing. His three-fingered hands held onto a large mace, the head of it as large as Anduin's chest. Even though it was bloody, the High King walked towards the tauren with open arms.

"Since when do you call me king, Baine?" Anduin asked and the two exchanged a friendly embrace. Given their differences in size, that looked somewhat dominating on the tauren's side, but nobody minded that. "What is the leader of the tauren people doing on its own in the middle of hostile territory?"

"I could ask you a similar question, friend," Baine laughed, slamming his hand against Anduin's shoulder. When they last met, this motion of bashful closeness had caused the meeker boy to stumble as he laughed, now the king stood his ground as he reacted the same. A difference the chieftain noted. "It is true that you have changed - for the better it seems."

"I have great footsteps to follow," Anduin answered rather simply, causing the bull to nod. He knew all too well how it felt to be suddenly thrust into a leadership position following the untimely demise of once father. "As much as I appreciate seeing you again, I have to ask what you are doing here. We are at war, after all."

"I came to support you in your fight against the ancient danger called G'huun," Baine answered, looking over to Valtrois, "although she returned later than I anticipated. I would have brought more forces, but I was afraid doing so might alarm the 'Warchief' to my actions."

"And my fighters are bound to the capital by decree of my father," the troll woman commented from the side, crossing her arms impatiently. Her accent was heavy and finally Anduin realized who this was.

"Princess Talanji," Anduin lowered his head. "I apologize for the stay in the dungeons you had been put in. Before I learned of your stay and could arrange for this to be corrected, the Horde had already broken you out." He looked up again. His plan would run much smoother if he could enslave her as well... but she was extremely ugly.

Trolls weren't exactly known for their beauty in the first place. They had giant noses, warts, the fangs of their lower jaw stretched their lips and deep trenches surrounded their massive jaw muscles. Talanji was somewhat of an exception to this, skipping on the warts, but even beautiful for a troll made her only about as good looking as an above average Stormwind female BEFORE they all began to be drenched in magic. To put it simple, on a scale of one to ten, the average human landed somewhere on an eight, while the average troll was a three. Talanji was maybe a five, six at best.

Even if Anduin himself could force himself over that (and the stench wafting out of her mouth from the typical troll diet of ritualistically prepared meat), his dick was about as flaccid as it had been since he first laid eyes on the naked form of Tyrande.

"Sure, sure," she waved off, obviously not believing his excuses, but with bigger worries. "It matters not to me dis day. It seems you are in retreat. Are you one who gives up easily, High King? Or will you find the courage to-"

"You seem to be in misunderstanding," Anduin shook his head as he gently interrupted her, "the beast is dead. We have won this day."

Baffled silence followed that. "It hasn't even been a week," Valtrois whispered out loud.

Anduin had no idea. Since they had spent all their time underground and slept in shifts at best, his sense of time was thrown off considerably. "Be that as it may, our success is evident," he gestured at the shaft they had left from. "You are welcome to check for yourself. Only the titan constructs are in control now. The rot is being exterminated." Talanji immediately removed herself from the gathering to do just that. Something stalked after her in the shadows, one of the deceased Vol'Jin's shadowhunters, as he quickly realized. There was no need to warn anybody in that case.

"...It seems all things they say about you these days are true then," Baine stated without any caution or ill will. They were enemies in a war he hadn't wanted. "From the manhood to the power." Unlike many others, Baine didn't care about his friend's apparent mischiefs. The man before him was clearly the same in his good nature. "Not even Sylvana's propaganda can truly suppress those rumours, you must know."

"Good, then it lets them know that my power is only growing," Anduin nodded and looked the tauren in the eyes. "You must be aware that I will turn Sylvanas into a heaving cumdump."

"pfff...Ahaha...AHAHAHAHAAA!" Baine broke out in laughter at that, just as Anduin smiled at his seriously delivered, but quite ridiculous line. "I do not mind if you do, to be perfectly honest," he told him. "I remain opposed to the dismantling of the Horde, but it seems apparent now that our bond is too loose to assure a prolonged peaceful leadership. Something must be done and it must start with the removal of Sylvanas from power. After that, we may discuss the future of the two powers." The tauren turned to Valtrois. "Pretend you didn't hear that, would you?"