Azeroth’s Death Track

The world of Azeroth has a vast territory, and there is a wide ocean gap between the three continents. For a long time before the rise of civilization, such a gap was equivalent to a world gap that could never be bridged, trapping primitive life in their respective regions. In different fields, there is no intersection with each other.

Without the threat of war, civilizations can thrive in their cradles.

But even in this era, from the Borean tundra to the city of Stormwind on the eastern continent, it has to cross the cold sea longitudinally, facing pirates wandering in the North Sea, dangerous underwater creatures, and of course, moody like gods the ocean itself.

For any mortal in this era, this is a long and adventurous journey, but in fact, 90% of the lives in this world do not have the chance to complete it in a short life. Such a long journey.

Mortals are flawed... They always think that they are the core of civilization, but they don't know that the behavior patterns of mortals have not changed much in thousands of years.

Arthas, who was determined to sacrifice himself to save, did not know that when his adventure began, and even before that, there were some beings who already knew his fate, and even his end.

But most of these beings chose to wait and see the changes that this mortal would bring, rather than directly recklessly intervene.

Because in this timeline, the rise of the dark blade has changed too many things. Under their interference, the darkness hidden under the world can no longer move unscrupulously.

This is undoubtedly a good thing for the order of the entire world, but as we have said, history will not praise what has not happened, so the rise of the dark blade is still one of the most terrible disasters of this era, so The name Tyrion Dawnblade is still the greatest fear floating in the sky of this world.

At this time, the night in Stormwind City was calm, and against the backdrop of a crescent moon, the entire Midnight Garden City area looked very quiet.

The high-ranking knights who originally lived in this city have disappeared. They are either still doing aftermath work in the war zone in northern Xinjiang, or they are sent as commanders to the newly established Twilight Federal District or the soon-to-be-established In the Swamp of Sorrows, after the war era of the Southern and Northern Wars came to an end, these dead warriors still have more and more complicated things to do.

And a busy job means more to the undead than to the living.

In the mansion in the Garden District, Lord Darkblade is leaning on a chair, his eyes are slightly closed, as if he is resting, hibernating or falling asleep, like some physiological cycles that fragile mortals need to maintain their own existence , but in fact, the undead does not need to sleep, so he just maintains this posture, trying to relax his consciousness.

On his body, the pulsating death energy is repairing the hidden wounds in the main body of the great leader, and strands of dark light are wrapped around the cold and silent body, making Tyrion look like a piece of never-melting ice.

hum

Like a visitor knocking on the door, a consciousness from afar, suddenly using a weak but undisguised way of self-existence, made a wave in Tyrion's silent sea of ​​mind, as if he hadn't seen him for a long time. Old friends are saying hello to each other.

Long time no see, Tyrion.

It was an aged voice, and there was undisguised kindness in it, but it didn't lead to any kinder treatment.

Veren...Old Friend....

At this moment, Tyrion's calm spirit suddenly rolled, like an enraged beast, following the track left by the distant consciousness, he smashed back viciously and precisely.

boom

A burst of consciousness silenced the visitor in the spiritual world for a moment, and when his voice sounded again, it was full of helplessness:

Would you please let me finish my sentence?

Faced with the Prophet's complaints, the Lord of Dark Blade didn't say anything. It wasn't until a few seconds later that his hoarse and hazy voice sounded again:

You took the initiative to appear in front of me, does it mean that you have finally made up your mind to change sides and stand by me? You must know, Velen, other than that, I have no interest in listening to you, old fellow. Talking, those clichés, even thinking about it will make you feel boring.

Of course not. I'm here to discuss the advantages and disadvantages of the living and the dead with you. It's not about the positions of the two parties. It's just the identity of the former collaborator... I found something, I I feel the need to tell you.

Although the two sides are thousands of miles apart, Velen's voice is projected in Tyrion's mind, and he can still vividly simulate his squinting and slow-talking state, and what Velen said also made Tyrion Tyrion's mental surge calmed down, which seemed to represent his return to rationality.

Go ahead. I'm listening, at least for now.

Just now, Tyrion, I once again saw a fragment of the future, which is related to you and your power. In my gaze, the power of the undead in this world will be divided... one wielded by you A challenger with the same power has appeared, and his goal is the continent of Northrend. The dormant power from the same source as the Dark Blade is recovering, and the dangerous sword-bearer is approaching the Demon Blade, although I cannot be sure he is...

That's...Arthas Menethil, right?

Velen's voice was interrupted by Tyrion, the great lord slowly sat up straight from the chair, his slightly closed eyes also opened at this moment, in those ice blue eyes, strands of blood could be seen with the naked eye. The cold light is shining.

The person who appeared in the future you saw, you have seen him, and you can recognize him, you are trying to hide something from me, Velen, this is not the attitude that a collaborator should have.

It's not a concealment, it's just that I can't see the cause of this incident clearly. It seems to appear suddenly, very abruptly, which is rarely seen in previous future episodes.

Velen said slowly:

I can't even judge how true it is, and my instinct tells me that you should know about it. Besides, in your terms, is it good for me and my people that I deceived you? Don't you Are you still worried that I will unite with other leaders to ambush you in Northrend?

Well... who knows what you demented survivors will do, before the war started, there were enough lunatics in the human empire, and now, lo and behold, I killed Lothar, and the situation began It intensifies, and you understand, Prophet, that much of my suspicion and hostility is really out of compulsion.

While Tyrion responded, he abruptly changed the subject:

And, when do you plan to return the heart of anger you took from me? Or do you need me to go to the Borean Tundra to take such a precious thing?

Sorry, but the heart of anger is not with me.

Velen answered very simply:

Humans who have lost their leaders obviously need that artifact more. At their pleading, I have handed it over to the most intelligent group of humans. It is one of the artifacts passed down by the Draenei from ancient times. I think I There are enough rights and reasons to determine its ownership, it is the owner's property, Tyrion, such a thing does not belong to whoever finds it.

I never knew, Velen, that you had such an eloquent side.

Tyrion lost interest in the conversation. He leaned back on the chair and waved his hands lazily:

Then let's stop here, Prophet, this is the end of the private communication. Next, the two camps should use another way to talk, but for the sake of this news, I will talk more Give you some time, and hopefully by then, you and your people will be ready...and, remember, my stuff...isn't that easy to get!

Wait! Tyrion, there is one more thing, we need...

hum

Throwing down a word with enough weight, before Velen could finish his next sentence, the interrupted High Lord Darkblade waved his fingers like a sharp sword sweeping across, sealing his will and the sea of ​​his mind completely. .

After the spiritual connection between the two parties was broken, Tyrion's expression became serious. Although it seemed that he didn't care about what Velen announced on the surface, in fact, Alsace's move to Northrend was indeed true. It was beyond his imagination.

Tyrion originally thought that Alsace would not repeat the same mistakes after the world line has been reversed to such an astonishing degree, but now it seems that in a corner he didn't notice, Ner'zhul, the Lich King, will still His eyes were on Alsace, and the bad relationship between the two was finally established.

So, Ner'zhul, my friend, what do you want to do?

Tyrion walked to the window, looked at the deep night outside the window, and thought of the rumors he had heard recently about the forces of Northrend, about the movements of those dwarves, vrykul, and dragons, his eyes bit by bit squinted:

Sure enough, you are not as reassuring as you seem on the surface... Well, it's time to go to Northrend.

And at the moment when the Dark Blade Lord made up his mind, a weak energy fluctuation appeared in the dark night of Stormwind City. The direction of the energy burst caused Tyrion's complexion to change slightly, and the figure of the Great Lord almost disappeared into the night suddenly. Here, it was like a bolt of lightning criss-crossing the night.

I feel the opening of the rift in the world, how is the situation now?

Tyrion carried the Ashbringer, and he walked into the secret room under the church area in the icy night. Vagli Agatha and the soul healer Annala were standing nervously beside the Death's Coffin, while in Wagri Under Gerry's feet was a black corpse that was rapidly evaporating.

It was a dementor that invaded reality, and Tyrion could easily distinguish its twisted joints, the chest torn apart by the spear, the black blood stained on the ground, and the claws wrapped in disgusting mucus, as well as the Humanoid, but there are only a few piercing black hollow monsters on the face. At this time, it is like a snowman melting rapidly in the sun. After a while, only the solid and cold bricks are left. Black silhouette.

These monsters that do not belong to this world, even after death, will be quickly swallowed by the realm of death.

It's just a wandering soul-level dementor. This guy's claws can't even destroy the wood of the dead man's coffin, but the appearance of this thing means that the situation is getting worse. Tyrion, the realm of the dead has found Yuna, and they I won’t give up so easily.”

Agatha stretched out his hand, and slowly pushed the heavy Soul Gathering Coffin away. The wood soaked by the power of the soul was dark in appearance. Amidst the deep crackling sound, a wisp of black soul power turned into mist, entangled At the bottom of the wooden coffin in front of the three of them, and amidst the lingering black halo, a little draenei girl about the size of Dornan two years ago was fainting from the escaping soul power. get up.

Probably because she had just woken up, the expression on her face was dazed, and apart from her pair of lifeless eyes, this little ghost was almost no different from other little girls, wearing a little draenei style dress. Skirt, with shofar braids, the image of this child is still at the moment of his death.

But she is different from other ghosts.

Yuna?

Wagri Agatha yelled softly, but woke up the child from a dazed state. The latter turned back and looked at Agatha blankly. Her body quickly dissipated in the black mist. Obviously, this The little blind girl is trying to escape from this place.

Yuna! Remember me? I'm Tyrion...

Tyrion stepped forward and called out in a low voice:

You should remember my voice, you should...

friend?

Yuna's figure disappeared halfway, when she heard Tyrion's voice, she shook her head hesitantly:

Is it really you? My friend Tyrion?

The little ghost took a step back and waved in the direction of the sound, trying to reach Tyrion in this way. The latter stretched out his hand and gently held the little ghost's cold hand in his palm.

It was me, I asked two of my friends to save you from the dementors, now you are in my city, it is safe here...

It's not safe here, friend! They're watching us. It's not safe here. Those bad things will come and bite us at any time... Friend? Are you still there? Come with me, I'll take you to a really safe place, and they will Saw you...they're looking for you too!

Yuna let out a scream, but was quickly carried out of the dead man's coffin by Tyrion. The Lord of Darkblade stretched out his hand and patted Yuna's head. He said softly:

No! Little Yuna, it's safe here, I promise, come, let's have a good chat, my little friend, about why those dementors are chasing you? About your foothold in the shadow world, and They ...I promise, little Yuna, I will protect you.