Azeroth’s Death Track

Chapter 132 2. The Exile [3100]

Ner'zhul was dying.

Anyone who saw his situation at this time would quickly come to this conclusion.

After being thrown into Shadowmoon Valley by Gul'dan 13 years ago, Ner'zhul, who learned all the secrets, had already collapsed. He was no longer the wise shaman and qualified leader. Bewitched by the devil, he almost destroyed the orc civilization he was desperately maintaining, and his heart was dead.

The most painful thing is that soon, the soul of his wife, Rulkan, another great shaman of the Shadowmoon Clan, no longer responded to his call, which made Ner'zhul's only motivation to live was also destroyed. cut off.

In fact, even after Gul'dan integrated the power of the entire orc world, there are still quite a few orcs who are unwilling to follow Gul'dan and live in seclusion in the world of Draenor. They often come to find Ner'zhul and pray for the wisdom of their ancestors. But Ner'zhul, who was denied by the elements and ancestors at the same time, has been unable to use this power.

The repeated failures made the remnants of the Shadowmoon clan completely disappointed in Ner'zhul.

At this time, the old orc held by Tyrion was skinny, almost weightless, his skin was shriveled, it was almost a layer of skin covering the bones, and he looked extremely terrifying.

A tattoo of a white skull was engraved on his cheek, which represented the cruelest punishment of the Shadowmoon clan. Those shamans who persisted in desperation believed that Ner'zhul was dead, and they had completely given up. Him, exile him, let him fend for himself.

Oh, outcast?

The death knight threw the chaotic old orc on the ground. He knelt down and patted Ner'zhul's cheek with his fingers, trying to get his attention:

You are the great man who formed the tribe with one hand, how did you end up in this situation? How pitiful...

But this kind of ridicule did not wake up Ner'zhul's will. On the contrary, after losing the last wood carving of his wife carved by himself, the old orc's remaining energy was like a punctured balloon. dissipated.

Apart from being able to breathe, he was no different from a dead man.

He's beyond help.

Glokush glanced at Ner'zhul and said to Tyrion:

I learned the truth about the demon's enslavement of the orcs. The cruel reality broke Ner'zhul's last spine. He is already a disabled person.

Really?

The death knight snorted:

Is one of the most powerful shamans in the history of the Shadowmoon clan really abolished like this? I don't really believe it, especially the graveyard he chose for himself.

Tyrion looked back at the surrounding terrain, and sure enough, he saw a remnant of an ancient altar on the edge of the poisonous water and magma not far away. He reached out and lifted Ner'zhul's neck, grabbed him and quickly crossed the poisonous water around him. Rivers of water and scorching fel lava.

Sure enough, Ner'zhul's body trembled more and more as he got closer to the altar. He seemed to be afraid of something. There was something on that altar that made him afraid.

boom

The old shaman's body was thrown under the altar roughly. The moment he landed, Ner'zhul, who looked like a madman, used his hands and feet and screamed, trying to escape from the altar, but was caught by Tyrion. With his feet on his chest, he bent down and looked at the panicked shaman with ice-blue eyes. With undisguised malice, he said softly:

What are you afraid of in the end?

This is the cemetery of all the elements of Draenor. The elemental echoes of this world were strangled to death here. Gul'dan did it, right? You saw all that with your own eyes, you witnessed the elements of Draenor being sealed You saw the scene where the elements failed...you witnessed the death of this world!

Legendary, what are you afraid of?

Tyrion didn't say a word, and Ner'zhul, who was stepped on by him, struggled more violently, until Tyrion asked that question again, Ner'zhul's chaotic eyes were completely overwhelmed by fear and regret. occupy.

boom

Two stones were thrown in front of Ner'zhul's eyes. When he saw the rough stones shining with special light, the shaman's eyes suddenly widened. He stretched out his hand and tried to grab the two stones, but The outstretched hand was stepped on the ground again by the death knight.

This is my stuff...

Tyrion whispered:

If I don't give it to you, you can't take it!

Ner'zhul's body struggled again, and he closed his eyes in pain. After a few minutes, he opened them, and the confusion and panic in his eyes disappeared, replaced by a weak light.

Who are you?

Oh, so you can talk.

Tyrion took a step back expressionlessly. Ner'zhul, who had been freed, was like a tiger preying on him. Like grabbing a certain most precious treasure.

It's like grabbing his own life, no, that's something more important than life.

Curse...password!

Regardless of the dust and filth on his body, he sat cross-legged on the ground. Obviously, he knew what the stone in his hand represented.

Nearly 20 years ago, Gul'dan used this thing to seal the elemental echoes of the world of Draenor, depriving all shamans of their source of power. It can be said that the two stones in his hand were the beginning of the destruction of this world the first bell.

But since it is a seal, it means it can still be lifted.

At the moment when he grabbed the two stones of the curse code, the weak Ner'zhul seemed to be completely alive. As one of the most powerful shamans in the history of the orcs, Ner'zhul knew very well the difference between the material world and the elemental world. Relationship, the reason why the devil's fel energy can corrupt Draenor so easily is because the elemental territory that exists in this world itself is sealed.

That is to say, as long as he can unlock the code that Gul'dan blocked the world's elements, he will be able to cover the world again with the power of the elements... Although in Draenor's current state, complete recovery is already an impossible luxury, but At least he can save a third of the land... At least he can leave hope for the descendants of the orcs.

He can atone!

After the elemental realm was restored, he could see his late wife Rulkan again...

Even his own destiny, which he had already given up, took a 180° turn at this moment. The ups and downs of fate made Ner'zhul somewhat unacceptable, but he had maintained a bad life for several years. At the moment when the light of salvation arrived, the weak shaman's face turned red, and even the vibration of his soul became violent.

At the moment when he felt uncomfortable in his body, Tyrion, who was on the sidelines, stepped forward and punched the old shaman on the back of the neck. Ner'zhul rolled his eyes and passed out.

When Ner'zhul opened his eyes again, he subconsciously clenched his fists. After feeling the hardness of the stone in his palm, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he smelled the smell of roasted meat. He struggled to get up, Looking back, a short creature he had never seen before was struggling to cut up a baked fel disaur with a knife.

This thing is similar to a crocodile. It is one of the few living and edible creatures in Shadowmoon Valley after being infected by evil energy. It has become a dangerous existence similar to Warcraft, even the best orc hunters, it is very difficult to deal with these hordes of Dipsaurus.

Hey, are you awake?

The dwarf Ayla, who had just cut the meat, looked up and saw Ner'zhul standing there. Seeing the old orc who could be blown down by a gust of wind, staying with the death knights for a long time had already made the little dwarf's nerves thick After a while, she felt no threat from Ner'zhul, so she scratched her arm, where there was a red welt.

The disobedient little dwarf was whipped by Luminas just now. Although it was only a symbolic punishment due to pressure from his peers, the two people before the punishment were still alive, but the whip still made the dwarf Grinning.

The dwarf in a bad mood cut himself a large steak, and pushed the rest to Ner'zhul, who was drooling, and said in a substandard orc language:

Eat it, eat it... Anyway, no one else eats these things except the two of us.

The little dwarf's culinary skills are still very reliable. Food comes first, and the old orc doesn't care about other things. After wolfing it down, he wiped his mouth with his dirty sleeve. He carefully looked at the dwarf in front of him, and asked in a low voice:

Who are you? Where are you from? Who are they?

My name is Ella, Ella Moxian, and I am the logistics director of the Dark Blade Knights! Well...that's it!

The little dwarf patted his chest, gave himself a name that sounded loud, then pointed at the statue-like death knights behind him with a grin, and whispered:

They are knights of the Order of the Dark Blade... er, death knights, dead knights! Do you understand?

Ayla seldom has someone to chat with all day long, and the dwarf's racial character is very out of character. Seeing someone chatting, he doesn't care about Ner'zhul's strange smell, chattering, under the treacherous and silent guidance of the old orc , and told Ner'zhul everything he knew.

Including the orcs' invasion of Azeroth, their failure, the destruction of the Dark Portal, the disappearance of Gul'dan, etc., all were told to Ner'zhul, and these news made the old shaman's eyes flash.

A character like him, at any rate, was once the leader of the tribe. He knew very well that the curse code Tyrion gave him was not for nothing. This death knight he had never been in contact with must have some kind of purpose, but the more the dwarf said, The more, the more confused the old orc became.

After Ella, who had satisfied her desire to chat, ran to prepare bath water for Luminas and the blood watchers, the old shaman was still thinking for a long time. He looked at the two stones engraved with the curse code in his palm, and finally Made up my mind.

Tyrion stood alone on the edge of the dilapidated altar. Like other death knights, he watched the fel magma flowing in front of him calmly and silently. No one knew what he was thinking, but the heavy footsteps sounded from behind , interrupting Tyrion's thinking.

Have you decided yet?

The death knight whispered:

I'm not very good at negotiating, so let me be honest, I need your cooperation.

The hoarse voice reached Ner'zhul's ears, and the old shaman didn't feel very surprised. In fact, he had experienced too many things in his life, and it was hard to feel surprised.

Tyrion's answer silenced him for a moment, and finally the old shaman looked up:

I want to unlock the code of the curse! I want to save my world and my people! I want to atone for my sins. After all this is done, my life will be yours!

What do I want your life for? It's just meaningless stuff.

The death knight didn't look back, his voice was like a dream:

I have no interest in the lives of you and your people. I have no interest in weak living people. In my future plans for this world, you, like your people, have no special value.

You don't have to guess what I want to do.

You don't need to estimate what I can do.

I'm not asking for your opinion, I'm just informing you that you want to cooperate with me to do something, which is beneficial to you and your world, and I didn't give you the right to refuse, that's all.

This outrageous answer made Ner'zhul not know what to say. After a while, he gritted his teeth and lowered his head slightly:

So, what are we going to do?

This answer finally satisfied the death knight. He turned around and threw the last piece of curse code to the old shaman. Then he frowned and looked up and down at Ner'zhul's image:

First of all, go change into a decent dress and clean up your image. The savior of Draenor should be more majestic.

The rest will be very simple...I want you to be the third great chief of the tribe!