Azeroth’s Death Track

The world undergoes major changes, and many stories are no longer the same. It is like a spiral that has been disrupted again, involving everything in the world, disrupting, reorganizing, and evolving. In the end, those familiar stories will be transformed into Completely different ending.

But the story will change, the participants in the story, those people, the most important part of the story, will not change so easily.

For example, in the two versions of the story, Arthas Menethil was driven by the will of protection to embark on a long journey. For example, in the two versions of the story, Jaina Proudmoore both It is a very important part, or, even the two versions of the story take place in the same place, but Northrend when the world was changed, at midnight when the snow fell all over the earth, in the purest snow In the middle of the earth, will there be a tragedy or a comedy?

No one knows... and watchers, keep watching...

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What happened?

General Tenred, who was urgently summoned to the port of the White Tower, raised his head and looked at the dignified Archbishop of Chaldea. Beside him was the indifferent Countess of Prestor, who rushed over with her seriously injured body. Great Knight Uther, those war observers who are about to go to the front line in the middle of Thousand Needles, that is, several young people from the tribe, and finally the Archmage Modera of Dalaran.

Her Majesty Garin and Liam have already gone to the front line. It is said that the centaur scouts are frequent and the battle is about to begin. I don't want to miss this.

Tandred, who has suffered a blow from fate, still has that bohemian look on the surface. The uniform of the admiral is open casually, and he wears a golden anchor pendant around his neck. With his slightly rough image, he is more or less energetic.

Thrall and Vol'jin, who were sitting on the side, were whispering something, probably talking about the war with the centaur. After all, the conflict between the orcs and the centaur has a long history. If the war in Thousand Needles shows a good result, then It means that in the barren land, the prepared orc army and tauren can also follow in the footsteps of human beings and completely drive those annoying barbarians out of the gathering place of the two races.

Everyone! Everyone!

The archbishop's deep voice was accompanied by his slightly anxious knocking on the table in the conference hall. There was a flame in the eyes of this big man who had always appeared with a gentle appearance and a steady image. This situation made everyone present aware of it. Something, even Tenred, sat up straight at this moment.

Wars on the front line are important, we all know that, but now, I have called you here to say another thing.

The archbishop glanced at the people in front of him, and said in a deep voice:

Ms. Jaina has just sent an urgent magical letter, and I think you are all entitled to see it.

Archmage Modera waved his hand, and a light blue magic light curtain jumped out in front of everyone. It looked like a map. In the center of the map, there were red light spots shining, and on the edge of the continent, there were also Faint blue dots.

This is a map of Northrend! What do the red and blue dots represent?

Tandred asked loudly, which also represented the doubts of everyone present.

The red one is His Majesty Alsace, the blue one...

The bishop of Chaldea glanced at Tenred, and said in a deep voice:

It's Ms. Jaina, we just got the news that His Majesty Alsace did not go to Ashenvale for vacation, but went to Northrend. It is said that he is looking for an artifact that can change the fate of mankind, but unfortunately, according to According to Ms. Jaina, it is not a divine weapon, but an evil magic weapon contaminated with the power of the undead, and His Majesty Alsace's will was tempted and distorted.

The archbishop clenched his fists, and it could be seen that his chest was filled with anger and disappointment.

He was under too much pressure, and now, that pressure has sent him down a road of no return.

Why is my sister there too?

Tandred had put away all his dissoluteness. He stood up, put his hands on the table, and shouted loudly:

Alsace took her there? I knew that bastard was unreliable!

While speaking, Tenrad was about to rush out of the conference hall, but Archmage Modera quickly blocked the door with a blue light curtain. The white-haired Archmage said sharply:

Calm down, Tenred! It wasn't Alsace who tricked Jaina to go to Northrend, but Jaina rushed there voluntarily. This child is too reckless, but she hasn't forgotten that she also has friends, which is also The reason why I and the Archbishop of Chaldea summoned you here.

The Archbishop then said:

Jianna is currently staying in the Borean Tundra. She has found the Prophet Velen, but the draenei can give very little help, and they themselves are being harassed by constantly invading demons, so I want to use the name of the I request that you go to Northrend to help Lady Jaina and Her Majesty Arthas...The Imperium of Man cannot afford the terrible price of losing a king any longer.

More importantly, this matter cannot be disclosed!

Chaldea's voice was full of exhaustion, and he explained:

Alsace's actions not only represent him personally, he is the heir to the destiny of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Once this matter is exploited by someone with a heart, Alsace's throne will be challenged. At this moment, I think You all understand the risk.

I admit that His Majesty Alsace's childish behavior really makes people feel disappointed, but I also think that this is not the reason for us to give up on him. I hope we send the most trustworthy and capable supporter, Lord Modera. The mage will send this quick-response team straight to the Borean Tundra, the furthest portal we can open in Northrend.

But what about the war at the front?

The countess, who had been silent all this time, raised her head and looked at the archbishop with her calm eyes. She said:

The front line is waiting for support from the rear. If we go to Northrend, we won't be able to find a single person in Thousand Needles.

The Archbishop of Chaldea will stay here.

Archmage Modera whispered:

He will bring the backup to the front line of the war together with the Duke of Ebonlocke, and only a figure like him who has a good reputation among believers in all countries can bond soldiers from all countries together.

No, it's not just me.

The Archbishop of Chaldea shook his head. He cautiously applied another layer of enchantment to the conference hall. Then he lowered his voice and said:

This is the most confidential news, everyone. His Majesty Fao will appear in this war. He believes that the war against the barbarians is very important for the recovery of human civilization. Although we tried hard to persuade him, His Majesty still decided to go to the front line. Inspire the fighting spirit of the soldiers, and my trip will also serve as a follower and protector of the crown.

If it's Faol's crown... then there is really no need to worry.

The Countess of Prestor has lived in human society for many years. She is well aware of the status of the Pope of the Church of Holy Light in the hearts of common people. With his presence on the front line, the defeat of the group of barbarian centaurs is inevitable. .

I will bring a few people from my tribe to join this rescue.

The countess nodded. She has no interest in mortal wars, especially bastards like centaurs, and she can take this opportunity to go back to Wyrmrest Temple. Although the Black Dragon Legion is on the verge of extinction, the Black Dragon Legion The holy land is still guarded by giant dragons. She needs to go to the Obsidian Holy Tome and the Black Dragon Holy Land to see if she can find some things left by her ancestors.

I will select the most trustworthy paladins to join them.

The pale knight Uther whispered:

No one will give up on Alsace, my disciple. Although he has gone astray, I believe that all this is because he wants to protect his people and civilization too much...

What about us?

A rough voice sounded, and when everyone turned their heads, they saw the young orc Thrall standing up. This wise man in the younger generation of orcs was frowning, and he asked:

This should be an important matter in human society, a confidential matter, why did you tell us?

Because this is an opportunity, Warlord Thrall.

The Archbishop of Chaldea looked at the orc and said:

Before Emperor Lothar died in battle, I had a brief exchange with him. The emperor didn't want to see humans and orcs continue to be hostile. If he was still here, maybe he had used his own way to eliminate the conflict between the two races. Hatred, I know, the blood-curdled hatred is not so easy to dissipate, but... the great one has passed away, and we living ones should follow his great will.

We hope that the orcs will also participate in this operation. Rescuing a human king with our own hands will be more useful than any high-sounding words from the leaders of the two races.

The archbishop took a deep breath, and said softly:

What's more, you are friends, aren't you?

friend?

Thrall pursed his lips. After a while, he looked back at Bain and Vol'jin, neither of them expressed strong objection, so Thrall turned his head and nodded slightly:

Okay, but this is our private behavior. We can't represent the tribe yet. I hope this is the beginning of a good relationship between the two tribes...

Let's go, don't waste your time.

Archmage Modera took out her pocket watch, looked at it, and said:

Three hours have passed since Jaina asked for help. His Majesty Alsace may come into contact with the magic weapon at any time. We must hurry up!

A group of people quickly left the conference hall and began their preparations. At the end of the crowd, the archbishop of Chaldea was holding the sacred scriptures, and his fingers inadvertently touched the handle of the decorative purple ritual knife at his waist .

The factors that would interfere with the war... have been eliminated, and 500 shadow priests are ready...

He said so.

Very good, very good...Then let the true power of the shadows be displayed in front of your people... The shadows under the light should really stand under the light.

The voice of Miss Xalatas rang in the heart of the Archbishop of Chaldea, who showed a gentle smile, and between the beating of his fingers, deep shadows moved quickly in his fingers.

Like dark magic.

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At the same time that the rescue team was preparing to rescue the crazy His Majesty Alsace, the king of Lordaeron was already approaching his place of destiny.

Keel Wilderness, at the end of this boundless blizzard, among the ten-thousand-year-old glaciers, those shadows, the shadows under history, linger on this snowfield, the center of the Northrend continent, and the land and floating In the land where the ice meets, the hidden dark power is entangled in this snow field, and the sun and the moon are no longer known.

Long before the lich descended on this continent, dark forces were entangled under this glacier. Those disordered and gloomy forces were waiting for an opportunity to break through the ground, and now...they have waited.

That voice, right here...it's calling me.

After traversing the glacier road with difficulty, and crossing the territory of those ancient snow diggers, those can easily grow to more than 30 meters long, have the ability to freeze, and have giant jaws as strong as steel, covered in gray Black horned armored monsters, every time they appear in human society, they will cause terrible panic, but in this ancient glacier, they are everywhere.

Alsace's sturdy armor was corroded by acid everywhere, and the warhammer in his hand was still stained with disgusting green slime. Behind him, Farric's image was also very bad. Fortunately, in the Marvin, who was injured before, has recovered the ability to walk, and the black steed that miraculously followed them all the way to this place is invincible.

In front of the panting three people was a cave formed by the self-collapse of a glacier over a long period of time. , all the light seems to be absorbed by something in the cave, the cold wind cave in front of Alsace, it is no exaggeration, it is like the sharp teeth and mouth of a giant beast, waiting for the reckless The prey actively enters it.

Your Majesty, this...

The two head guards subconsciously clenched their weapons, and Arthas also held the hammer in both hands. He glanced at the two behind him, with a flash of stubbornness in his eyes.

I've come here, I can't go back any further.

This is my fate, the fate of the victim Arthas...

After speaking, the young king strode into it, and the light in the cave danced like a hell leading to darkness.

But there were no other enemies in this cave, or in other words, those ghosts hidden in the cold wind were not awakened by Alsace under the influence of another force.

The three of them walked all the way to the deepest part of the cave. On the throne-like sharp ice block raised by the thousands of years of ice, a dark magic sword was floating there silently. The dark and gloomy power emerged from the cold air. Slowly pouring into the sword, the more obscure power is like breathing, emanating from the ice-blue jagged blade of the magic sword with the skull hanging on it.

That's it... Frostmourne, the long sword that appeared in my dream, it will bring the power to change everything, the power to protect, and the power to counterattack.

Arthas was like a man fascinated, walking step by step towards the suspended long sword, the power of Menethil in his hand, and the precision-forged warhammer unconsciously slid from between the king's fingers, The light in his eyes became dim, and his long golden hair moved without wind. In the end, he stood in front of the sword.

Only by transforming into a more terrifying demon can we defeat that evil demon. I... have come to fulfill my destiny.

As he spoke, Alsace raised his hand and grabbed the cold sword, but at this moment, a deep voice suddenly sounded from deeper in the cave.

Stand back! Arthas Menethil... What lies before your eyes is a heavy fate that does not belong to you...

Wearing black hideous armor, Tyrion Dawnblade slowly walked out from the dissipating halo of darkness. He held the hilt of Ashbringer in his left hand, and the heavy sword of darkness was lifted in his hand. On the thin face of the visor, in the ice blue eyes, there was a trace of seriousness, as well as a trace of sarcasm.

Listen to me, go back, young king...

You've gone too far on this road to despair.