Stormwind Wizard God-Chapter 600: The Dragon Queen’s Dining Disaster

When the battle was raging outside like a Category 5 hurricane and the sun and moon were darker than a coal miner's lunch, did Duke just sit on his hands doing nothing?

Hell no!

Duke, who always crossed his T's and dotted his I's before making a move, had been chewing over the Ner'zhul situation like a dog with a bone for what felt like eternities.

He threw in the towel on gathering all three artifacts. After all, he couldn't get his mitts on the Scepter of Sargeras without risking his neck. If he tried pulling that stunt, maybe the remaining tenth of old Sargeras' soul would send him to meet his maker faster than you could say "demon lord."

The Eye of Dalaran was also off the table - that sucker was Dalaran's crown jewel. The writing was on the wall, and Duke had already bent over backwards to play nice with them.

The only prize worth going for was the Book of Medivh.

Duke didn't want to take a vacation to Draenor - he was scared stiff that he'd have to march off on an expedition to that hellscape right after giving Kil'jaeden's lieutenant and his legion commander the beating of their lives. After all, history showed that Kil'jaeden should've been tied up with other business at this point.

What really made Duke's blood run cold was the catastrophic explosion that would blow Draenor to smithereens.

In the original timeline, Turalyon and Alleria got caught with their pants down in that explosion, and Khadgar was left wandering the void like a lost tourist for God knows how many years before he could get his bearings.

Brother, cut it out with the kamikaze missions!

How the hell could flesh and blood survive a nuclear-level blast?

Even without that doomsday explosion, Duke wasn't betting the farm on this Outland expedition. The Alliance was more fractured than a dropped mirror, and their expeditionary force of 100,000+ soldiers would have a snowball's chance in hell against a desperate Ner'zhul on the run.

Want to conquer Draenor, which was roughly the size of Texas compared to Azeroth?

Think you can wipe out the orcs with that ragtag bunch?

When pigs fly!

After burning the midnight oil thinking it through, the smartest play was to guard the Book of Medivh like Fort Knox, barricade Nethergarde Keep tighter than a tick on a hound dog, and then slowly turn the entire Cursed Lands into an impenetrable fortress. Pull that off and wait a few decades, and the Horde would be deader than a doornail in Draenor.

Once he'd made up his mind, it was smooth sailing from there.

The biggest game-changer from the original timeline was that the Book of Medivh wasn't stupidly dumped in the Stormwind City Library like some amateur hour operation. Doing that would've been like sending a kid through a biker bar with his pockets stuffed full of hundred-dollar bills.

But having the Book of Medivh stashed in Karazhan with Duke wasn't enough insurance.

So Duke called in the cavalry - specifically, a certain legendary powerhouse.

The million-dollar question was: what could possibly tempt a divine being who could deck Demon Kings and punt Black Dragons into next week?

Duke had been pulling his hair out over this puzzle. freeweɓnovel.cøm

But ever since a certain dragon queen discovered her inner foodie thanks to some ice cream, the answer became crystal clear as mountain spring water.

And that's how we got the absolute circus that Ner'zhul was now witnessing:

"WHAT THE—!?" Without giving two hoots about the meatball soup splashing all over her magnificent chest, the human-shaped Queen Alexstrasza was huffing and puffing while cramming meatball after meatball into her mouth like a competitive eater at a county fair. Her gorgeous face looked absolutely ridiculous with several meatballs bulging out her cheeks like a chipmunk hoarding nuts.

Even so, the dragon aura she was unconsciously radiating scared Ner'zhul so badly that it made his Hellfire freeze up like a deer in headlights. The massive construct looked like it was about to wet itself.

"Mmph grmph blurgh! (Is that supposed to be a demon!?)" The queen grudgingly set down her spoon and stood up with all the grace of a newborn calf: "Grrmph blugh gargle! (You picked the wrong day to mess with me!)"

Duke, who was approaching with another tray of food, smacked his forehead so hard it echoed: "For crying out loud! Can you please swallow your food before trying to talk? You're making the entire Dragonflight look like a bunch of savages!"

Her Majesty finally seemed to realize she'd lost every ounce of her royal dignity. She took a deep breath, and then with a sound like a garbage disposal, she gulped down the dozen-plus meatballs in one astronomical swallow.

Duke's jaw hit the floor as he watched those egg-sized meatballs create visible bulges traveling down the Queen's slender throat like a cartoon character, disappearing into what must have been a bottomless pit of a stomach.

His sanity should have snapped like a twig ages ago.

To bribe this walking appetite, after getting word that Ner'zhul might come knocking, he and the Windrunner sisters had transformed into a three-person culinary army and slaved away in the kitchen for hours on end.

He'd cooked enough food to feed a small army, but it still wasn't enough to put a dent in this glutton's hunger.

It defied all logic that shrinking a dragon weighing dozens of tons down to human size - even if it somehow only weighed 100 kilograms - could be satisfied with human-sized portions. Trying to fill a dragon's belly with human food was like trying to fill the Grand Canyon with a garden hose.

Well, there was absolutely zero point in questioning the physics of it all!

But he'd spent hours perfecting those soup dumplings!

"BURP!" The queen let out a belch that accidentally shot out a small geyser of flames. She then gave Duke an enthusiastic thumbs up: "Hot damn, those meatballs were finger-licking good! I can still taste them rumbling around in my belly."

Sweet mother of pearl, do dragons have taste buds in their stomachs?

Turning her attention to the scene, the queen's mood soured faster than milk in summer heat when she spotted Ner'zhul's green hide. Seeing orcs always reminded her of those humiliating years that still made her blood boil. Then she clocked the Hellfire, which definitely fell into the demon category. How could a sharp cookie like the queen not see exactly what Duke was playing at?

"Even though I knew from the get-go that you had ulterior motives when you suddenly invited me to this feast, the grub was so damn delicious that I'll gladly annihilate every demon and black dragon that dares show their ugly mugs around here."

The Queen struck a pose that would've been intimidating and majestic - you know, if she could've wiped the soup stains from the corners of her mouth first.

Unfortunately, right now she looked like the world's most dangerous food critic!

Even so, the Queen's promise made Duke grin like a kid on Christmas morning.

Holy moly! This was better than a get-out-of-jail-free card - this was a nuclear-powered insurance policy!

Hold on just a cotton-picking minute!

"Orcs aren't included!?" Duke's voice cracked like a teenager's.

The queen looked sheepish: "Yeah, orcs are off-limits."

Duke's heart sank like a stone, but he didn't push his luck. The Wyrmrest Temple had more political red tape than Washington D.C., and their dragon protection protocols were more complicated than rocket science to outsiders.

No sweat, this was already better than he'd dared to hope.

Duke set his serving tray on the coffee table he'd prepared for unexpected party crashers. He untied his apron and tossed it to Vereesa, who had already nocked an arrow and was ready for business.

After cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders, he strutted toward the orc warlock like a gunslinger heading to high noon!

"Ner'zhul, I presume? Perfect! Let's settle this mano a mano!" Along with Duke's cocky challenge, a ghostly dragon claw materialized out of thin air. With just one squeeze, the Hellfire that could've sent half the human army running home to mama crumbled to dust and scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Ner'zhul was so thunderstruck that he instinctively stumbled backward like he'd been slapped.

Alleria shook her head with a wry smile, resting her chin on her palm: "Duke, you magnificent bastard... such noble words from such a devious mind."

Vereesa chimed in with a grin: "But I love that he's got just enough devil in him, while still having the stones to step up when the chips are down!"

"..."

While the Windrunner sisters were having their little heart-to-heart, Ner'zhul was cursing up a blue streak in his head.

He finally caught on that this so-called "duel" meant fighting Duke without summoning a single demon. What in tarnation! A warlock who can't summon demons is like a cowboy without a horse!