While the Eredar Twins were busily preparing countermeasures to save Evenson from himself, the man at the center of the crisis knew nothing about it.
His consciousness had slipped somewhere... strange.
Very strange.
He found himself standing inside an enormous circular arena.
It was deafening.
Music blared through oversized speakers.
Crowds roared.
Banners fluttered from every wall.
The atmosphere resembled the championship finals of a global esports tournament.
A booming announcer’s voice echoed through the stadium.
"Colorful banners wave over the tavern! Hearthstone heroes clash for glory! Priests, Princes, and champions compete! Anything goes on the road to victory!"
Evenson blinked.
"...What?"
Before he could process what he was seeing, triumphant orchestral music replaced the announcer’s jingle.
The announcer’s voice rose another octave.
"And now, entering the arena... the champion of the 100,003rd Ulthalesh Cup Hearthstone Championship..."
"...Lady Ulthalesh herself!"
Evenson’s jaw dropped.
The mighty dreadlord appeared wearing a brilliant crimson cape.
She marched solemnly around the arena with impeccable military precision, clutching an oversized orange championship trophy high above her head.
Every step landed perfectly in time with the music.
The announcer practically screamed.
"With overwhelming skill and absolute dominance, she crushed every challenger! Let us celebrate our undefeated champion!"
The crowd erupted.
"Welcome!"
"Welcome!"
"A warm welcome to our glorious champion!"
Only then did Evenson notice the audience.
Every seat was occupied.
Not by living spectators.
By souls.
Thousands upon thousands of translucent spirits from countless races filled the stadium.
Each held bouquets of flowers.
Each waved them in flawless synchronization.
The precision was almost frightening.
They must have rehearsed this.
Extensively.
Evenson slowly tilted his head toward the sky.
No.
Absolutely not.
This cannot be the inner world of Ulthalesh.
The legendary Ulthalesh, the Deadwind Harvester.
An Artifact Weapon feared by generations of Warlocks.
A relic that had harvested untold millions of souls.
Its inner realm should have been an endless abyss of darkness and despair.
Not...
Whatever this was.
It was like discovering that the Lich King secretly spent weekends hosting children’s birthday parties.
Ulthalesh froze mid-step.
"...Hm?"
"...Hm?"
"...Wait."
Her expression cycled through confusion...
Recognition...
Horror...
Then pure panic.
"ENOUGH!"
The stadium vanished.
The spectators disappeared.
The music stopped.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Only Evenson and Ulthalesh remained.
Crimson mist rolled across the void.
The dreadlord resumed her true form.
A colossal bat-winged demon towered over him, bald-headed, fanged, and terrifying beyond words.
Her head alone was nearly as tall as Evenson.
Blood dripped from teeth sharp enough to shred steel.
She slammed both hands down on either side of him.
Her face descended until those monstrous jaws hovered inches from his own.
To anyone else...
The display would have been enough to stop a heart.
Evenson merely looked up at her.
Completely unimpressed.
After what he’d just witnessed...
It was difficult to feel intimidated.
Ulthalesh stared back.
"...Grrraaaah!"
The furious roar carried all the dignity of someone whose deepest secret hobby had just been exposed.
Realizing intimidation wasn’t working, she shrank back into her humanoid form.
She clenched both fists so tightly her arms trembled.
Her teeth ground together with an audible crunch.
She was furious.
For tens of thousands of years she’d entertained herself with harmless little hobbies inside the scythe.
Not one previous wielder had ever seen them.
Then this idiot arrived...
...and uncovered all of them in a single day.
What miserable luck.
Finally, after several moments of simmering rage, she forced herself to focus.
"Fine."
"What are you doing here?"
"I didn’t exactly choose to come."
Evenson folded his arms.
Trust me. I’d rather not have my worldview permanently damaged.
Ulthalesh tilted her head.
Then a knowing smile spread across her face.
"I see."
"You enjoyed using my power."
"You became intoxicated."
"And now..."
"You can’t bear to let me go."
Normally, only Warlocks who failed to master Ulthalesh while becoming addicted to her strength could enter this place.
Few ever left.
Evenson winced.
Ignoring the unfortunate double meanings...
She wasn’t entirely wrong.
Using Ulthalesh had felt...
Amazing.
Harvesting entire armies had been intoxicating.
"Hmph."
"I expected more backbone from you."
"But in the end..."
"You’re just another fool."
She looked at him with open disdain, radiating the confidence of someone fully expecting to be worshipped.
Evenson took a step forward.
"As your wielder, I should have the authority to use those powers."
He very deliberately chose wielder instead of master.
"What powers?"
Ulthalesh barked a laugh.
"Those are my powers, idiot."
"And for the record..."
"I’ve never acknowledged you as my wielder."
"We made an agreement."
"We reached terms."
Ulthalesh burst into laughter.
Deep.
Unrestrained.
Almost mocking.
"I am the sovereign of the Nathrezim."
"The queen of dreadlords."
She pointed a clawed finger at him.
"You think you’re clever?"
"I understand deception."
"I invented half the tricks mortals call clever."
"A vague verbal agreement filled with ambiguous wording?"
"You honestly believed I wouldn’t notice how much room that left for interpretation?"
She spread her hands.
"Forget your little contract."
"It means nothing."
Then her smile slowly widened.
"There is, however..."
"...another way."
Evenson’s eyes narrowed.
"What way?"
Ulthalesh opened her arms.
"Become one with me."
"Let our souls merge."
"Then every ounce of my power..."
"...will become yours."
Silence settled between them.
She stepped closer.
"I won’t erase your will."
"I won’t force you to obey."
"I’ll merely offer the occasional suggestion."
"A little guidance."
"A little assistance."
"So..."
She smiled almost gently.
"Such a tiny price..."
"...for limitless power."
"Isn’t that a bargain worth accepting?"
...
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