But Krasus refused to yield. His body strained. His bones felt as if about to crack in a hundred places. His skull threatened to flatten...

The earthen shell cracked. Like a newborn, Korialstrasz the dragon thrust his head out and roared his defiance to the black dragon.

Sinestra was in the act of using the cube. The cerulean artifact pulsated and, in reverse of its normal function, now fed forth the power it had accumulated.

Korialstrasz rose up, at the same time sending the pieces of the hardened shell at the black dragon. As they bombarded her, he whipped with his tall from below her blocked view.

The tail sent the cube flying toward him. Korialstrasz expertly caught it in one paw. Following the example related to him by Vereesa, Korialstrasz threw the cube into the other artifact.

"No!" the black roared. Sinestra grabbed for the cube.

The cube and the Demon Soul utterly annihilated one another. Both had been too unstable for such close proximity; their doom had been certain the moment that the cube had touched, for now Balacgos's creation tried to both feed and feed upon what would not surrender what it was absorbing.

The final, absolute end to Deathwing's creation was a burst of magical forces that, while not as horrific as when Vereesa had shattered it with the naaru staff, were fearsome enough to any in the near vicinity.

Sinestra turned away, but too late. Even her scales were not sufficient to keep her from being scorched. The stench of burning flesh filled the cavern.

And as the black roared her pain, she did so with a face perfectly matched in horror on each side.

Despite her agony—or perhaps because of it—Sinestra flew at her rival. Korialstrasz met her head on. In truth, he was still weakerthan she because of all through which he had been, but not once did he concern himself with that.

Sinestra sought to clamp her teeth upon his neck. Korialstrasz twisted his head back and forth, trying to avoid that while at the same time steering her toward the chamber of the eggs. The two crashed against the wall next to the entrance, sending down a rain of stalactites on both.

But just as Korialstrasz was about to succeed in getting her in among the eggs—and hopefully turn their battle, whatever its outcome, into the destruction of her most prized resources— Sinestra pulled back from him.

"Clever, clever, my dear Korialstrasz! I do applaud you! Would that you had been Earth-Warder rather than Neltharion! Such more valued offspring we would have produced!"

"Rather would I have spawned with a kraken!"

Despite the open and very definitely painful sores on her face, the black dragon laughed.

Behind Korialstrasz, the way to the eggs sealed tight. When he struck the former opening with his tail, it was like hitting diamond.

"I would not want my new children getting singed," she mocked.

The ground beneath them rumbled.

Korialstrasz recalled the lava pools in the next chamber and knew that they had to have a source below.

A source that no doubt stretched under the entire expanse of Grim Batol.

The floor of the cavern erupted. A flood of molten lava rushed up—

The dread mount shook anew, but the two other leviathans locked in conflict paid no mind to it. Dargonax and Zzeraku fought with abandon, the former occasionally crashing into walls when struck by the letter's magic... and then both sinking into them as the Devourer, too, turned incorporeal and better learned to strike back with his own fearsome energies. The cavern filled with bright and deadly light as tendrils sought to strangle, starbursts tried to rip through ghostly torsos, and phantom jaws attempted to bite through equally ethereal throats.

But all this meant little to Rom, who had stood with Iridi while she had attempted to finish freeing the nether dragon and now sought to reach her after Zzeraku's horrific foe had sent her flying. At this point, the dwarf wanted only to get the draenei and his people out. As the priestess leaned against her staff, he spotted Grenda in the distance.

She also saw him and the pleasure in her eyes was enough to make the veteran warrior blush under his beard. He waved for her to lead the others to the nearest passage, then saw that she was pointing past him.

Spinning about, Rom saw Rask aiming a dwyar'hun. The drakonid had likely seized it off one of his minions, for he had not been carrying it earlier. Rask had no doubt calculated that he might not come out near enough to those he pursued to use any other weapon.

The drakonid fired even as the dwarf registered him. However, the target was not Rom, but the draenei. Yet, not at all caring what risk he took, Rom threw himself between the drakonid and the priestess, at the same time raising up his ax.

The spiked missile deflected off the flat of the ax head, but instead of flying off in a harmless direction, it hit Rom in the shoulder right between two segments of padding. He grunted as some of the spikes went in at least half an inch.

Hiding his injury from the draenei, he roared to her. "Run for Rhonin! He's our best bet of makin' it out of here alive! Hurry! Go!"

He started after her for a few steps, then, when he was certain that she was committed to reaching the wizard—and thinking that he was the same—Rom turned.

But he did not turn soon enough. The head of a heavy ax sank into his side. The dwarf fell, his one hand trapped under his body. He felt his blood simultaneously spilling over his torso and growing cold as it sluggishly attempted to keep flowing.

A heavy clawed foot stepped on his maimed arm and although it was broken, it still very much felt the new pain as Rask purposelypressed enough to make a new, sharp break.

"Dwarf filth..." The drakonid stepped past Rom, the ax now gripped for tossing. Only a creature as powerful as Rask could throw such a large ax with accuracy.

It was time to die, Rom knew. The ghosts of Gimmel and the others who had perished in and around Grim Batol gathered in preparation of his joining their ranks.

But Rom struggled to his knees, keeping as silent as he could. Wavering, he moved behind Rask, who was aiming not at Iridi, but an unsuspecting Rhonin. There was no doubt in the dwarf's mind that the drakonid would deliver unto the unsuspecting wizard a fatal blow despite the distance.

Rom sought for the dwyar'hun, but Rask had apparently discarded the weapon right after firing the one shot. He left the wounded warrior with only one chance.

Rom threw himself under the much taller drakonid's arm, shoving Rask's arm upward. At the same time, he twisted the creature's wrist, trying to drive the sharp blade into Rask's head.

But although still strong by human standards, Rom was too weak to achieve his desperate goal. The ax head instead turned toward Rask's jaw, slicing it open.

With a hiss of rage and pain, the scaly guard shoved him away. Blood dripping from his mouth, the drakonid swung the ax at Rom. However, the swing was an awkward one, the flat instead striking against the dwarf's helmet.

Rolling away, Rom located his own ax just as Rask staggered over him. The drakonid's breathing was ragged, but he was far from slowed. He adjusted his grip on his weapon and came at the dwarf.

With a mighty roar, Rom raised his ax.

The drakonid's reach was greater than his. With a grunt, Rask chopped at the fallen warrior, the blade cutting deep into the dwarf's chest.

The dwarf cried out, aware the blow was a fatal one. Yet, instead of giving in to his death, Rom used the incredible pain toadd to the force of his own swing. With the skills of one who stood among the elite of Bronzebeard's warriors, he guided the ax expertly past Rask's guard. And with his remaining strength, severed the drakonid's head from his body.

As Rask's body tumbled to the side, Rom collapsed near the head, which even in death still wore a snarl. The roars of the fighting dragons nearly shattered the dying dwarf's ear drums. He heard a crack from above and knew that a section of the ceiling had broken loose, but was not concerned. By the time the collapse would reach him, Rom would be beyond any pain.