Who a King Must Do Ch. 52

With Valeera satisfied, all of the harem had gotten their daily dose of semen. Enough, at least, to keep them content while he was busy elsewhere.

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While the vast majority of the Broken Isles' resources would have to be assessed and exploited over the course of decades of expeditions, colonization and negotiations with the natives, there was one specific area that could not wait and required Anduin's immediate attention. Deep within the tall mountains of Stormheim, in the Broken Isles eastern region, beyond the homes of the vrykul vikings, lay the Halls of Valour.

There governed Odyn, one of the Keepers left behind by the titans themselves after they had concluded the shaping of Azeroth. More importantly, he was once the Prime Designate, the leader of the Keepers, and even if he had since relinquished that position, he was still one of the most powerful entities on the planet, commanding a vast army of eternal warriors.

Those eternal warriors were another reason why Anduin had to go see him. The Valarjar, as they were called, were created when Val'kyr retrieved the souls of the worthy and brought them back to the Halls of Valour, to be given bodies of metal. Those very same Val'kyr, Sylvanas sought, wanting to pervert their power, like the Lich King once had, to raise new undead.

All of the other forces on the Broken Isles could mess up a local biome at worst, Odyn possessed the power to mess with the balance of life and death and there was a chance that Sylvanas would come and seek him. She had attempted to do so before and almost succeeded. This was not a risk Anduin could take.

There needed to be a deal with Odyn.

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"My dark lady," the voice of Nathanos Blightcaller reached Sylvanas' ears while she stared down into Suramar, "the boy king is-"

"I can see it!" the warchief interrupted her once-apprentice in a sharp tone. She was in a bad mood these days. Every week had another advance of the boy king being reported and for some reason she felt distant, long forgotten urges whenever she observed him dominate his sex slaves. They were easy enough to ignore, her body was cold, even if her elven form was still attractive.

Undisturbed, Nathanos stepped back. With his complete body and full hazel hair and beard, the ranger looked almost like he had done when he was a regular human, had it not been for his scarlet glowing eyes and the blueish skin betraying his state of undeath. He kept his suggestions quiet and waited for her to plan her next move.

Sylvanas had moved to the Broken Isles because she had thought she could use the chaos there to kill Odyn and steal his power. The dark lady had contact with Aszhara, as the two of them had interests that could potentially overlap. In this specific case, the death of a titan Keeper, this was very much the case and so the youngest of the Windrunner sisters had gotten a deal for the teleportation embargo to be lifted so that she, ahead of a strike crew, could assassinate the one-eyed Keeper.

Killing a godlike being of metal and magic wasn't an easy task, so preparations had to be made. Anduin showing up was unexpected. How Aszhara's troops could have allowed word to get out and how the boy king then made it over that fast, those were the real issues. It shouldn't have happened. The entire string of events that had brought them to this point shouldn't have happened. The burning of Teldrassil should have demoralized the Alliance, reduced their forces, and given Sylvanas the opportunity to diminish their resources by throwing the obedient, savage forces of the Horde at the civilized Alliance until they were willing to do anything just to be left alone. Instead it had somehow kickstarted the development of the boy king into an assertive conqueror amassing a harem of stupid little cocksucking bitches.

'How easy their life must be,' Sylvanas thought with a twinge of envy. That, like the lust, was quickly chased away by the seething hatred of undeath. Even if she did desire to submit to Anduin, which she did not, she had nothing to gain from that life. She could feel no pleasure, her pussy was dry and her womb barren. Her body was a seductive display to be used for manipulation and nothing else. The only goal was to keep her unlife going.

Question was, what did she have to do here? Retreat was the safe option. She had mages with her and a portal could have been opened immediately. However, doing so would mean their preparations were for naught and Anduin's stroke of luck was likely to continue. If he allied himself with Odyn, she wouldn't get another chance to kill the Keeper and the boy king would only grow more powerful.

No, now was the time to strike. Anduin was without his harem of gods and demigods. The trap that should have been sprung on Odyn could have been sprung on two targets as well. "Prepare our forces, tell them to give all they have to the enchantments -- their life if necessary," she ordered Nathanos.

"As you wish, my dark lady," the ranger lowered his head obediently.

Somehow that made Sylvanas sick to the stomach. Nathanos used to impress her. A human, the sole human, to ever be recognized as a ranger by Silvermoon. The drive and ambition that he had displayed, the fervour with which he had attempted to prove himself to her in life, in death it was all just obedience. She had hoped that restoring his body would have perhaps brought that confident man back. For sure, he was confident and capable, but he always just did what he told her. A perfect pawn. She needed that for her plans.

But when she thought of a man, she thought of Anduin Llane Wrynn. A strong character, conquering, satisfying, and getting his way, never afraid to budge.

She shook her head. 'Don't admire your target,' she cussed at herself. Every day was a test. The High King had to die, so her mind could rest.

If he broke, so did the Alliance.