Azeroth Shadow Trail

Chapter 111 21. Evil Guest

Bu Laike and his crew landed in the land of Zandalar called Nazmir.

Although this jungle is now dilapidated, full of decay, death and darkness, but it was the center of the glory of the troll civilization 16,000 years ago.

In the world of Azeroth, the first batch of intelligent primordial beings were conceived here.

It was abandoned due to a disaster called the blood plague, and the corrupt blood trolls came because of it, but behind the blood plague, there was a terrible secret.

But it is not the only secret on this land.

In short, the Nazmir jungle is already a terrible place, it can be called a hell of suffering, but compared with this death palace deep in the jungle

The rotting jungle outside and the cannibal barbarians in it are simply as beautiful as heaven.

Bu Laike has never been to Hell.

At least he has never been there in the real world, but now he has walked into Bwonsamdi's Hades, holding the Soul Lamp, shrouded in pale light, allowing him to cross the veil that separates the living.

As soon as you enter this land of death, you will feel the coldness of your soul.

The pirate looked around.

The Nether Palace at this point in time is not as decadent and desolate as he remembered. At least the buildings haven't collapsed too much, but it looks like it will collapse if touched for a long time.

The soil under his feet exuded a chill, and he could vaguely see weathered bones half buried in the soil, as well as some troll ghosts stretching out their hands from the soil.

They are incomplete.

I don't know why it was dismembered.

Some only have a palm left, some only have a head left, and some have nothing left, but you can just hear its wailing.

It's like deliberately torturing people.

Bwonsamdi's Hades Temple does not occupy a large area, and the place where Bu Laike is standing can be seen at a glance, but this place is very strange, and there is no one around.

This is not normal.

No matter how withdrawn and unpopular Bwonsamdi is, he is still a loa.

It has its own priests.

But Bu Laike didn't see the shadow of those death priests at all here.

This fully demonstrated that Bwonsamdi did not welcome him as a guest, did not plan to meet him at all, and did not even send a servant, which was really rude.

Laike curled his lips, and continued forward with the soul lamp, walking across the desolate stone bridge, under the bridge was a group of suffering troll souls, howling and cursing endlessly.

But the pirates simply ignored them.

Outside the Nether Palace, there is an underground square that looks like an arena. In the past, troll ghosts from all over the world should have gathered here, waiting for the trial of death.

But today it is equally empty.

He looked back, in the dim and cold dark square, beside the stone pillars that were about to collapse, there were still pale troll souls walking blankly towards the palace of the underworld.

The amount is considerable.

Not only straight-backed Zandalari trolls, but trolls from other clans in other parts of the world who always hunch their backs.

Bwonsamdi is Death.

In theory, after all trolls die, their souls will come to it.

It is not as particular as Hella, and it has specially made a ghost ship to pick up those ghosts.

Old Bwonsamdi was cruel to his followers.

It allows them to step on the road of soul with both feet, from far away, across the world, to the face of death. As for whether those weak spirits will dissipate halfway, this is not an issue that old Bwonsamdi will care about.

Anyway, trolls have always respected the value of "survival of the fittest".

"Then shall I come in?"

Bu Laike held the soul lamp and stood alone in front of the road to the main hall of the Underworld. He raised the lamp in his hand and looked around, but he didn't find any hidden spirits.

It's as if this place has long been abandoned.

He yelled something loudly, and there were bursts of empty echoes. The pirate stood there and waited for a few seconds, but no priest from Bwonsamdi or the death sword guard rushed over to beat him.

He confidently and boldly carried the lamp and walked towards the main hall of the Underworld Palace.

It is said to be a palace, but it is actually as dilapidated as the outside, and it is shrouded in the power of death that penetrates deep into the building, making this place very gloomy, and this is not a place where living people can come.

The interior furnishings are very old, and there are no luxurious gold objects, as if it was looted by bandits.

One poor and one white.

The simplicity made the pirates almost cry.

From this point of view, Bwonsamdi is really a clean loa, and it doesn't require followers to pay it luxury goods adorned with jewels.

Hey, Dasaroli, the city of gold, who wear gold and silver and adorn their bodies with jewels, the loa gods! Learn from others!

It's you, Rezan the Shameless Devilsaur!

Do you know how many pirates can get rich overnight by removing those gold leaf gems inlaid on your huge body?

But poor are poor.

Only when you really set foot in the inner hall of the temple can you see the majesty of the god of death.

Bo Laike stood on the steps at the edge of the inner hall, looking down.

Below the temple is like an abyss-like streamer, like the blood moon outside the palace of the underworld, floating with that kind of burning power.

It's like separating life from death.

Hela's death power is pale, like the salty sea water when she is suffocating in despair.

And Bwonsamdi's power is intertwined with red and blue, like the world when the eyes are covered by blood, and like the light when the soul is burning.

"I brought you a present."

Bu Laike held the soul lamp in his hand, and Gul'dan's soul roared and struggled in it.

The Great Warlock seemed to feel his end was near again.

"I originally planned to dedicate this dark soul to Hela, but then I thought about it, that crazy woman wouldn't favor me just because I gave her something good.

I also don't want to tie my future to a madman.

After thinking about it, I think old Bwonsamdi is more reliable, so I came to you, hello! Why don't you show up and have a chat with me? "

Bu Laike's voice echoed in the temple.

He could hear his own echo clearly, but he couldn't get any reply.

"Don't you like to make deals with others? You trade your mojo to those who need it, and then at some point ask them to pay back multiple times.

You are different from Hella.

You are cunning, vicious, cruel, wise, and cautious. Your trading partners are all over the stars, and even the world beyond reality.

You even make deals with brokers from the Shadowlands"

The pirate was lying on the steps, shaking the pale lantern in his hand, like baiting the fish in the sea, he said:

"Can't you give me a chance to trade too? Bwonsamdi! Answer me."

There was no response, which made Laike a little impatient.

He has been waiting for death.

He knew Bwonsamdi was here.

But the cunning troll, Reaper, guessed his purpose and refused to show up stubbornly.

Hablon kept saying that Bwonsamdi was afraid of Hella, and would never help Bu Laike, a traitor from Hell.

But Bo Laike knew more.

Bwonsamdi is not afraid of Hela.

What it fears is another god of death.

"Do you really want me to say that taboo name in your temple? If you don't help me, in despair, I can only find it!"

Bo Laike looked at the swaying sea of ​​death below the steps in the inner hall, on which he could see souls turning into human faces, howling in pain, but unable to make a sound.

Those painful faces appeared more and more, which seemed to represent a warning, a kind of urging.

go now!

You are not welcome at old Bwonsamdi!

"That is the God of Death, the Son of Time, the Father of Sleep, and the Friend of the Night."

The pirate uttered priesthoods and titles in non-standard troll language, and every time he uttered one, the sea of ​​death intertwined with red and blue below boiled.

Represents Bwonsamdi's mood swings.

From shock, to anger.

Finally to disgust and hostility.

This emotional change triggered changes around the entire Nether Palace. A gust of wind blew, thousands of souls howled, and black smoke billowed up around the originally empty Nether Palace.

Those masks of various colors that had been weathered and decayed and hung on the buildings around the Hades Palace as decorations began to be filled with blue spiritual light.

They began to vibrate and sway, and finally they were infused with the power of death into twisted death sword guards.

Only the upper body is vain, like a mixture of a human and a spider, streaks of spiritual light form decaying cloaks behind them, and those masks are their faces.

They roared, suspended in mid-air, carrying troll-style death swords, rushing towards the hall of the Temple of the Underworld.

Bwonsamdi grew impatient.

Since the evil guest was unwilling to leave, old Bwonsamdi didn't mind entertaining him, and would stay in this place forever.

Ok.

Speaking of it, the ghost palace is full of troll souls, which is a bit too monotonous. One more bold human being might make this place more lively.

"It is the master of the other world! The oldest god of death in the shape of gravel! The great illusion of the shadow world! The death loa that swore to swallow up Azeroth. It is Musala Antaien!"

Bu Laike felt the divine power of death surging from behind, it was another power different from Hella's mad power, both were interpretations of death, but there were subtle differences.

He also ignored those weird structures behind him that would only exist in the nightmares of the soul, those cold and warlike death sword guards.

He yelled out that taboo name in Bwonsamdi's Hades:

"That's your father! Your enemy! Your destroyer and coercion! Your betrayer and devourer should have chosen you, but chose Hela's tyrant."

"That's Muehzara, the king of the dead! Death, the god of death!"

"Enough! You villain!"

When that name was finally spoken, a deafening yell finally sounded in the temple of the Nether Palace.

As the voice emerged, the death sword guard who was slashing behind Bu Laike also stopped.

The blood moon in the night is getting brighter and brighter.

As Bo Laike watched, a strangely dressed troll loa finally slowly rose from the seething sea of ​​death below.

The phantom it chooses at this time is not tall, just like ordinary trolls.

The upper body is naked, the blue-purple chest and waist have white lines, the back is decorated with twisted white bones, and the neck is wearing a necklace made of animal teeth and skulls.

A tattered red and black robe was wrapped around his waist, covering his lower body.

There are also bone-studded greaves on both legs.

Because it is a god of death, the illusory body is covered with stitches, some bones are exposed under the skin, and the six fingers of both hands have completely turned into bones.

And its face.

There is still flesh in the chin, and the upper half of the face is completely bones. The eyes exude blue soul fire, two white fangs protrude from the mouth, and the troll's iconic long sharp ears.

The strangest thing is its hair.

Black and lush.

It's like the hair when I was alive, it's very long, but it doesn't bend.

Like a head of anti-gravity hair piercing the sky, this "hair" brings black humor and cynical temperament to the troll Reaper.

It looked angry.

It floated in front of Laike's eyes, and he probed the cheek that looked like a bone mask, and the soul fire in his eyes was shining, staring fiercely at the human being in front of him.

It stretched out its sharp bony fingers and tapped on Laike's heart.

It only takes a little force to pierce the pirate's heart.

It said in a hoarse, lazy, always elongated voice, which sounded like it was always laughing or always mocking:

"You man, why are you so annoying! You should know that old Bwonsamdi emptied the Nether Palace and drove away all the noisy priests. I don't welcome you.

You want to make a deal with old Bwonsamdi?

no no no! "

It straightened its body, waved its hands, thrust its waist again, and said in an exaggerated tone:

"Old Bwonsamdi only deals with big shots in the City of Gold, and people who won't cause me trouble. You, you are not a big shot, but you can tell at first glance that you are a troublemaker who knows a lot of secrets.

let's go.

Old Bwonsamty won't make a deal with you, won't give you a taste of my mojo.

Hela is a madman.

If poor old Bwonsamdi takes you in, she'll come rushing down and tear down my Hades. Look at my crappy place, if it gets demolished again, I don't have the money to build it up again. "

A sincere smile appeared on the terrifying face of the troll Reaper.

It hovered over Laike's head, and said to him condescendingly:

"It's a pity, my friend.

The last god who can help you has rejected you.

You are dead.

Ah ha ha ha ha, old Bwonsamdi is deeply saddened to see you so unlucky

Well, I'm just pretending!

Ha ha ha ha. "

(end of this chapter)