Rise of the blood elves

Varimathras, the leader, narrowed his eyes and seemed to think for a while. After a moment, he raised a hand. The demon and undead troops that were slowly pressing forward immediately stopped where they were and started to fight with them dozens of meters away. The coalition forces looked at each other from a distance.

Angmar put his elbows on the ground and raised his upper body up.As soon as he stood up, a sense of alarm suddenly arose in his heart.

Through the gaps in the crowd, his eyes swept over the terrifying existences that cast prying eyes on him one by one. The undisguised greed in the eyes of the Dread Lord also concealed a deep fear.

"Varimathras,"

"Balnazar,"

"Anasalon."

Angmar recited the names of the three demons one by one in his mind, and then looked at the lich floating behind the three fear demons, with four runic chains wrapped around his body.The Lich's posture was respectful but neither humble nor arrogant. His whole body was slowly exuding the breath of death and cold. It was obvious that his magic power had reached a certain level.

Although there are many lichs behind him, all of them are powerful resurrection casters, but the moment his eyes were fixed on this most special lich, the energy of the Sunwell and the essence of the holy tree in Angmar began to flow rapidly. It seemed to be conveying some strong hostility to him.

For the Sunwell, there was only one "person" who could make her so resentful. During her lifetime, she was one of the most maverick members of the six-person council in Dalaran, but she eventually fell into darkness.

Kel'Thuzad.

While Angmar was observing Kel'Thuzad, the other party was also observing him.

Different from the various thoughts conveyed by the eyes of the Dread Lord, the Lich just looked at Angmar quietly, looking extremely calm.Kel'Thuzad must have known through his spiritual link with the Lich King that his master's attempt to occupy Angmar had failed.

Angmar glanced calmly at the Dread Lord and Lich in the distance.

If it were before, facing such a terrifying existence, Angmar would only lament that Azeroth is something that should not be underestimated and would make anyone feel insignificant and powerless. He would also lament that he had too little time and too little talent. It is impossible to master the power of arcana that ordinary people cannot understand in their lifetime, so as to gain transcendent power.

But now

He stroked the hilt of Flamestrike, recalling the shock that the touch that spanned thousands of years had brought to him.

The hilt of the sword, wrapped in magic cloth that had not lasted for 1 years, exuded bursts of warmth.

The magnificent fantasy of Azeroth is indeed far beyond Angmar's imagination. An alien soul born in this world, because of its unique characteristics, can make subversive changes to its solid and abnormal timeline. This is also the beginning of his life. Unexpected.

No one has such a gift.

He had thought that the bronze dragon, which maintained the normal operation of the timeline, would immediately obliterate anyone who traveled through it.Even if such a thing does not happen, the inertia of history cannot be reversed by one person.

But he found that he was wrong, both perceptions were wrong.He is not a simple time traveler, and history is by no means irreversible.

When a soul that did not belong to this world was born as the high elf "Angmar Morning Star", the wheel of history had already been deflected.Everything about him is included in a timeline that is full of endless possibilities, but will only follow the established trajectory.

Change was destined as early as the beginning of his birth into this world.

"Soul, time" Angama clicked the meaning of these two words and slowly stood up.

"You gave me a good start, but you were enlightened by another version of yourself 1 years ago. So, when did this cycle start?"

The endless cycle of time is like a fog, gradually occupying Angmar's thoughts.

His actions and future possibilities have long been firmly limited by the only certain timeline, giving him the feeling that his fate has been doomed and shackled. He only feels that he is shackles and everything is boring.

Angmar once again thought of his trip to the Tomb of Tyr a few months ago, the figure whose body was covered by the sands of time.Before leaving, Angmar's memory was still fresh in his meaningful gaze.

He still couldn't understand the deep meaning in that gaze, but he vaguely felt that it might be some kind of expectation.

The sound of Angmar getting up attracted the attention of Idonis, who had been staying by his side.

"Three Seats of Angmar"

Idonis turned around. It seemed that the magister was not in good condition. It was obviously caused by excessive mana consumption in successive battles.He looked at Angmar quietly, hiding the scrutiny and suspicion in his eyes very well, but the right hand in his sleeve held the curse seal of the instant attack spell.

While the Magister was asking questions, Lor'themar and Liadrin also noticed the situation here, exchanged glances, and walked towards Angmar. Their hands did not leave the weapons on their waists for a moment, forming a faint pinch. The force of the horns surrounded him in the center, while the other hand kept gesturing to the men behind him.

Lor'themar winked, and Liadrin pulled out her weapon with a swipe, placed it on Angmar's neck, and then began to pump sacred energy into his body.

Just after he woke up, he was held at knifepoint by one of his own. Angmar was a little bit dumbfounded, but he also knew that several people had watched Sylvanas penetrate into his body, so it was impossible not to be on guard, so he just let it go. By giving.

After more than ten seconds, Liadrin's tense face relaxed slightly, she retracted her weapon and nodded to Lor'themar beside her.

Lor'themar breathed a sigh of relief, looked into Angmar's eyes and said apologetically: "Sorry, I have to confirm that you are not controlled by that banshee. Okay, go back to your fighting position."

As soon as the two commanders spoke, a group of people nearby put down their weapons, bowed to Angmar, apologized, and turned back to their respective positions.

"Get out of here quickly and go to the back to recover your mana. The next battle is no longer something you can interfere with." Liadrin said softly, put Quel'dra back on her waist, and then joined Lor'themar. Walked towards the front of the formation.

Angmar looked around, the battle in the distance was still going on.Even farther away, in the defensive positions under the Greymane Wall, the fighting was in full swing. For a while, it was impossible to tell which side had the upper hand, and the entire battlefield was in chaos.

In the very center of this battle, all the top warriors from the coalition forces gathered here, leading hundreds of elites from all races. They were already prepared to withstand the impact and fight to the death with the enemy.Regardless of the number of legendary warriors or the total strength of both sides, the demon side obviously has the upper hand, but the three fear demon kings have not yet given the order.

The central area of ​​​​the battlefield fell into a strange stagnation, and no one was willing to attack first.

Until Angmar removed the Flame Strike from his waist.

One of the Dread Lords' expression changed drastically, and he hurriedly took two steps back. He subconsciously raised his arms to cover his eyes. When he found that the expected attack had not come, he looked at each other with the other two.