Who A King Must Do Ch 66

Much of the world still bore the mark of the Cataclysm. In few places were the scars of the world-shaking event more apparent than Mount Hyjal. About a third of what should have a pure, lush forest, nurtured by the roots of the world tree, had been consumed by lakes of magma when the cultists of the old gods had brought the Firelands as close to this realm as possible.

Of these massive lakes, many had long since cooled into carpets of crackled black. Gradually, they had been reclaimed by nature, but the recent war had shifted the reclamation efforts of the night elves away from their ancestral homeland. First because they had to escape Sylvanas, then because they had found a new home at the feet of their human masters.

Nordrassil, the world tree, and Hyjal as a whole still had two significant roles to play. For one, it was this very tree that granted the night elves their immortality. Granted, the magic in the air of Stormwind could have taken over this task, but it did not need to because this tree existed. Secondly, Hyjal was the centre of druidic learning on the entirety of Azeroth and thus where night elves and tauren, primarily, held meetings.

On the cultural front, Hyjal also remained of immense importance. To reclaim it would have been another showcase, for the night elves of the empire of life, that their emperor and his people were indeed the masters to follow. When the battle for Azeroth began, it had effectively split the world into the Horde, on Kalimdor, and the Alliance, on the Eastern Kingdoms.

For these many reasons, Anduin casually stepping out of a portal and into the temple underneath the world tree's great trunk was a moment of significance. The night elven building covered a shore that oversaw a silver sparkling pond. The second Well of Eternity, a fond of immense power that many wars had been fought over.

"The air in this place still agrees with me most favourably," Ysera stated, as she followed her Master through the portal.

"I agree, sister. Our blessing has matured nicely," Alexstrasza stated.

"Well, I didn't personally have a hand in any of this, but I'd say I could tap into what Nozdormu did," Chromie babbled. "Just a little bit of tweaking and then..."

"Keep moving already," Onyxia demanded, shoving the shortstack along before moving her own attractive form through the portal. She raised her nose and inhaled several times. "The power here is pleasing. It's not as potent as Master's domain, but it has matured nicely."

"I concur," Stellagosa hummed, the last of the dragons to step through. "This is the centre of the leylines in the western hemisphere. Perhaps it would be appropriate to erect a summer residence here?"

"What a splendid idea." Azshara was next through the portal. "It would be proper for me to have a house at the well that is rightfully my property. I would see it returned to its former glory."

"I would warn you not to invite any demons again," Tyrande said drily, "but I think you know your place now, sister slave."

"Well, of course, high priestess. I swear upon Elune, the moon, and the life in my belly that I shall do nothing that harms our Master's goals." Azshara put both of her left hands on her medium sized chest, to portray the offense she felt. "I merely state that this tree you erected to protect the second well has shackled its true potential. Although... I am willing to work with it to create something a little more... friendly to Master's many subjects."

"Good to hear," Shandris added.

"There's no greater trust to be had then between loyal cocksleeves," Maiev stated the words in her deep, female voice.

Anduin rubbed his chin, listening to what his harem was discussing. "This would be an appropriate place for a second residence."

Immediately the gathered haremettes began planning things in earnest. "I can have the foundations shaped within a week," Onyxia declared. "Raw earth, levelled for constructions. Lava and stone smoothed."

"The tree itself shall be reshaped to support whatever structure you wish to house in," Ysera stated.

"Blessings of all five flights, to complete its power," Stellagosa promised.

While the various women explained how they would turn the entirety of Hyjal into one massive palace for their Master, they got closer. Anduin soon had his arms around Alexstrasza and Ysera. Onyxia and Stellagosa pushed against his back together. Chromie cheated a little, hovering in the air in front of him with effortless magic. Azshara, Tyrande, Maiev and Shandris simply shared the grass to his feet. There was nothing demeaning for any of them about the pose.

Anduin looked over his shoulder, where the rest of his harem was waving goodbye. Those haremettes accompanying him were the either the night elves that wished to see the world tree again or the dragon aspects here to help him with his task to enter the Firelands. They would remain ready to, at the signal of a Master's Image left in Stormwind, send the naga elementalists through. That was, if Anduin at all needed them.

"We'll discuss what we do with this place in detail another time," the Emperor of Life decided. "For now..."

"Anduin? Is that really you?" A deep voice echoed over the open space.

The Emperor of Life looked up from his beloved harems to find a small crowd of tauren and furbolg that had gathered around them. They had, in the absence of the night elves, been the primary keepers of this place. The one that had spoken was who truly was in charge of the operation though.

Thrall, or Go'el as he mostly called himself these days, strut towards him. The World Shaman, they had called him during the Cataclysm. His powers had waned since then, but he was still immensely powerful. "it truly is... difficult as that it so make certain with... all of them around you." The eyes of the orc couldn't have gotten any wider, as they darted from one Azerothian legend to the other. Not knowing how else to greet them all, he simply bowed his head.

"Young Go'el, I hope time has served you well?" Ysera picked up.

"Not as good as you, Awakened," Thrall returned. "I heard of your miraculous return... I heard of a great many things I am now acknowledging as truth." The shaman's gaze lingered on Onyxia, then Alexstrasza, and finally Tyrande. "I have met Malfurion..." he carefully breached the subject.

"Has he found another woman to abandon for ten millennia?" Tyrande asked simply. Thrall, who had attended the wedding of the now ex-wife of the Arch Druid, was speechless. Sensing it, the High Priestess of Elune rolled her silver eyes. "I have heard and contemplated a hundred times over, Thrall. My mistake wasn't cheating on my husband, my mistake was to believe he ever truly loved me. Even after he awoke, he took every excuse to leave home. I encountered more than one dryad he had vented his lust on over the years. Finally, I decided to unify my own needs with a debt owed to Stormwind." The first of Anduin's slaves nuzzled against the bulge in his pants. "And that was the only good decision I made on love in the past ten thousand years. He made me feel true love, showed me what I truly liked, bred me, all in one day. If Malfurion is still shattered over me meeting a true man, then he was never even half the man I saw in him."

"Good girl," Anduin whispered towards the turquoise haired sex slave. Two words and she preened, as if she had just been given the greatest award in the entire universe. A tiny nod, and Tyrande took her true reward. Swiftly, she opened the front of Anduin's pants and wrapped her purple lips around his cock. The velvety touch of her mouth glided smoothly back and forth the upper half of his manhood, giving Shandris and Maiev the space to tongue bath the rest. Azshara reached under the tiny skirt of her revealing, red dress and masturbated feverishly to the scene.

Thrall's eyes nearly popped out of his head as a group of the most powerful women on Azeroth, respected and infamous equally, turned into quivering, panting messes in front of him. Eyes that would have been filled with wisdom and authority were hazy with lust and submission. They angled their legs, pressed against Anduin, and slightly shifted their minimalistic wardrobes to reveal an utter lack of underwear.

Anduin paid no reaction to Thrall's reaction. He was too focused on the wonderful job his three elven slaves were doing. While their tongues lavished his manhood with loving licks, large tits of several dragon slaves were squishing against him. Even muted by clothing, their softness was dominant. More mouths pressed kisses on his neck and face. The only reason why he wasn't kissing the blonde shortstack in front of him was because he wanted to keep staring into the eyes of Tyrande. Chromie would have to be satisfied with riding his fingers, as she hovered in the air.

And she was. The digits she rested upon were enough to make the gnome-appearing time dragon drip pussy juices into the verdant grass. The robe she was wearing was pushed up enough to reveal the entirety of her fat thighs and ass, assets that made her more than worthy of the title shortstack even if her tits were middling in size. Her tail kept curving with each orgasmic spasm.

Only the three elves down below came harder. Their lips on his cock constantly filled them with rewarding buzzes. Even without touching themselves, they had utterly soaked the skirts of their legwear. Tyrande's white priestess robe was easily stripped out of, showing her firm tits and the hard, purple nipples to everyone.

Anduin took his left hand off Ysera's hip and clawed into Tyrande's wild mane instead. With all the casualness with which one used a cocksleeve, he pulled the High Priestess over his cock. Shandris and Maiev bowed a little lower, each now worshipping one of his heavy balls. The depths of Tyrande's throat vibrated with her screams. Her ass shot up, riding her skirt up her wide hips, leaving the ornate dress as a white strip around her athletic midriff. Under the eyes of everyone, she repeatedly squirted, just from having his cock fill out her throat. Then, his balls tightened under the wordless praise of the other elves' tongues.

Cum pumped into her stomach and the previous squirting of pussy juice turned into a near continuous torrent of the clear fluids. Each spurt had her eyes roll up higher, her perfect ass go up a little more.

Anduin lingered on the sensation for as long as he could. The heat of her throat. The way her tongue pressed him against her palette. The sheer intensity of her moans. The attempts and failures of her to return to gazing longingly into his eyes, while ecstasy reduced her concentration to nothing. Prolonged as his enormous orgasms were, much as the tongues of the other two sex slaves urged him, it came to an end eventually.

Letting go of Tyrande's hair, he put his arm back around Ysera. His fingertips glided up and down the naked, smooth skin of the green-haired dragoness' midriff. Even before she had made herself his property, she rarely worn more than a bra and a thong. The minimalistic clothes left much to be touched and he could have taken them off with a single gesture.

In the first place, they only wore clothes for appearances. Anduin was considering introducing a formal harem outfit for all his women. Something light, preferably see through, and easily removed... A question for later.

Anduin lowered his hands to the butts of the two dragonesses and squeezed. Chrome kept pressing her robe-covered form against him. Below, the night elves continued their worship. "What have you become, Anduin?" the voice of the shaman made Anduin refocus his attention.

Thrall stood across, crouched down, the Doomhammer in one hand. In his eyes burned caution and elemental power. The World Shaman, they had called him, but what Anduin felt radiate at that moment barely even got a response out of his haremettes. "I would not try if I were you," Azshara stated, checking the nails of her left hands.

"There is no need to threaten him," Anduin assured. Up and down, Tyrande's lips glided. "I saw a path to peace and prosperity and I took it, Go'el. A world united can stand against everything that is to come."

"Unity does not come through mindless following," Thrall declared.

"No, it does not," Anduin agreed. "It comes through being united in a purpose. You should know, you united the Horde with the purpose of survival, then united Azeroth against Deathwing." The monarch turned to Alexstrasza and grabbed her chin. The enormous tits of the dragon aspect bounced when she tensed up with glee. "What greater purpose could there be than life itself?"

"This perverse display is how you would venerate life?" Thrall asked.

"Yes," Anduin responded intensely, eyes snapping back to the orc. "A nation of love so deep that what was once morally questionable can manifest without its drawbacks. Harems with caring masters and mistresses, with submissive sex slaves and strong-willed servants that can be certain they will not be taken advantage of." Anduin made a simple gesture and Tyrande slowly glided up his manhood.

With a longing, "Aaaah," she drew in fresh air. The urge to serve was strong, in her, Shandris and Maiev equally -- even in Azshara who pulled her miniskirt back into position. All of them resisted the urge to pleasure him and instead followed the simple order, standing back up and weaving magic to clean themselves. They were learning from each other. Not as fast as Anduin was learning from their marks, but learning nonetheless.

Anduin fixed his clothes with his own magic, then started walking towards the large orc. Thrall dropped deeper in a defensive position. "You're handling more power than anyone should."

"Perhaps," Anduin agreed.

"If you know that, then take my advice -- you cannot be leader on your own, you must-" Thrall suddenly stopped when Anduin's hand landed on his shoulder. The shaman had meant to keep a distance, to avoid the magics that had turned the women around him into such obedient sluts. Only, Thrall still did not realize, that the magic was a manifestation of them having become sex slaves of their own volition, not the other way around.

"Your contributions to Azeroth can never be forgotten," Anduin stated. "But when you put the mantle down, you chose Garrosh to lead." Thrall tensed up, as Anduin's voice grew ever firmer. "That choice led to the destruction of Theramore, of half of Pandaria, and so many other places. Then, when you struck him down, you chose Vol'jin. An honourable man himself, no doubt, and yet so blinded that he chose Sylvanas when he died alongside my father. A choice that then led to the burning of Teldrassil." Taking his hand off of Thrall's shoulder, the Emperor of Life stared accusingly. "And what have you done since for Azeroth, besides hitch your cart to causes already won?"

"You would suggest I'm a coward...?!" the shaman growled.

"I state that you are past your prime." Anduin's response was clear.

Thrall clutched his hammer, uncertain of what he would do with it. Before he could make a decision, Anduin had his hand on the weapon and pushed it down. It was a leisurely motion, like tapping a piece of driftwood down a calm water's surface. Even thought Thrall strained his muscle, the hammer was pushed down to his waist.

"You are strong, but I have moved beyond strength." Anduin gestured for his harem to start walking towards the exit of the glade. He was done there. "Care for your family, shaman. Leave the world to me."

With that, Anduin stepped past the orc and set out for the Firelands.

______________________________________________________________________

Time had passed since the Cataclysm. Only a few years. A few very turbulent years. Azeroth had not enjoyed any prolonged prosperity since the days of the first Horde invasion. Even before then, things had often been turbulent. There was a reason why they called Azeroth a world of warcraft.

Still, years were a lot of time, especially in an environment of boundless vitality. The world tree continued to sustain everything around with constant energy and the wild gods that inhabited the area did the rest.

The parts of Hyjal that had been scorched to ash were rapidly being reclaimed. Much of what had been burned was already covered again with fresh grass and young trees. Only where the rock itself had been melted into lava pools, did the elemental magic still scar that land. Typically, this was in the form of black, craggy stone -- the cooled remains of that lava.

"Onyxia, do you think you could fix this?" Anduin asked.

The black haired dragoness rolled her golden eyes. "Are you seriously asking your Earth Slave whether she can change the earth for you?" The sassy tone and way of referring to herself clashed in a way that made Anduin chuckle. Considering the proposal seriously, she added, "I could break this stone down to dirt, make it more palatable to the plants in the area. I think leaving it as it is has an aesthetic charm though."

"You would," Alexstrasza sighed and shook her head. "Your sense of pleasant sights has not been fixed by your correction by Master's cock. Neltharion once knew the beauty of the earth lay in gemstones and pleasantly shaped caves, instead of fire and brimstone."

"Magma is an excellent cave warmer," Onyxia responded simply. "Putting my personal preference aside, I believe this would make for a nice, flat foundation for our second residence." The Broodmother smirked. "I would look forwards to shaping it. Our hatchlings will need much room to play. More than the city offers."

Anduin slowly nodded. "We'll leave it as is then, for the time being."

They travelled further. They did not walk, of course. Azshara combined her considerable power with that of Onyxia and Anduin's sheer endless mana, to use a chunk of dirt as a rapidly levitating platform. They flew at near sonic speeds, the wind breaking around an arcane bubble enveloping them. After just a few more seconds, they had made it to the Sulfuron Spire.

The fortress was light with elemental magic even after all this years. Its four towards fed fresh lava into the red lake below. Its dark stone walls stood atop an island of half-solid obsidian. A large spire at the centre extended twice the height of the other towers. A decorative and ritualistic construction of solid stone, the symbol of the former Firelord, Ragnaros, located at its top: a circle, cut horizontally, the top half hovering in the air and adorned with a pair of horns like jagged flames.

The Sulfuron Spire had been where Deathwind had punched a hole into the barrier that kept Azeroth separate from the elemental plane of fire and to this day the entrance to the Firelands laid open there.

They landed by the circular gateway. Its borders swirled with the familiar purple of self-sustained portals. Without any hesitation, Anduin stepped through. The harem followed.

Heat enveloped them, scorching heat that would have turned exposed skin into a crispy layer for any lesser entity. Even Shandris, by far the weakest of their group, did not struggle for a moment to deal with its effects.

They emerged in on an island, hovering in an endless red expands. Magma and living flames dominated as far as the eye could see. Fires that fought one another on massive scale.

On one side, there were the elementals Anduin was used to. They took many forms, although the most common one was that of a blob shaped like a human torso, with immense shoulders and thick arms, the head extended forwards instead of upwards and a featureless face. There were giants of molten rock, living vortexes of scorching energies, and even phoenixes of pure fire.

The other side was fewer in numbers. The bulk of them were women of orange glowing skin, their form entirely exposed or covered only by bits of rock that took the shape of stocking, gloves, or lingerie. There were tall women made out of molten rock, as if it was muscle, and harpies of blue fire that engaged the phoenixes in aerial combat. Despite being universally smaller than their enemies, the individual members of this side dominated the competition in combat. Their number being so low, however, prevented that dominance from cascading into a proper victory.