Azeroth Shadow Trail

Chapter 1449 82. Suicide of love, ask for support

"Malak! Malak, you miserable wretch! You and your entourage are a bunch of pathetic cowards!"

The deep roar echoed on the snow-floating altar outside the Gudak Palace, like bursts of endless thunder. The roar was full of betrayal and accumulated anger.

Along with the roar, there was also the collision of chains.

At the northernmost point of Zul'Drak, in the gloomy place of death, a loa, a raging beast, is bound by chains soaked in voodoo and magic.

Hundreds of frost troll warriors pulled thick chains around them. These barbaric warriors who grew up in the wild north needed to do their best to control the trampling and wagging of the giant beast in front of them.

In addition to the chains, the priests of the Drakkari trolls are also casting spells around, using ancient and vicious vicious spells to continuously weaken the trapped Northland Loamatos.

This is a frost mammoth with a full mane.

It has a huge body like a hill, and a solid skin like granite.

The two rough and curved tusks are like two dreadful guillotines. With the natural brute force of Matos, it can easily destroy all the existences that try to stop it.

Motos was once the god of brute force worshiped by the frost trolls, and it meant invincible glory in this land.

It is also said to be the chief god of the mammoths who ravaged all over Northrend.

But compared to the trolls who can forage for food and sacrifices for the loa, and who speak nicely, the powerful and savage Matos obviously doesn't like his sons who are more violent, savage and harder to tame.

It stays with the frost trolls all year round, enjoys the shrines and altars built by the trolls near Gudak Palace, and while enjoying the tributes offered by the trolls, it will also give its own strength generously. Distributed to the Drakkari trolls.

Motos didn't think as much as the other loa.

It is a rough and simple character, and it doesn't think much about the future.

It always felt like its partnership with the trolls was perfect. The trolls exchange food and tributes for power, and they can find food without going out, and they can also enjoy the rainbow fart compliments of the priests.

Even beasts have to pay attention to "spiritual life".

It's a pity that this "perfect cooperation" came to an end not long ago. From a certain day, its troll believers began to ask for more power from it. In Motos's view, this did not conform to the rules.

How much tribute can be exchanged for how much power, this was agreed before.

However, considering that it also heard that some strange undead were aggressively attacking Zuldak, the trolls needed strength to resist the enemy, so under the begging of the priests, the mighty Matos agreed to an unfair deal.

But this retreat is just the beginning.

The trolls demand more and more power, but the tribute they can offer is less and less.

The priests trusted by Matos have been using various reasons to prevaricate the Mammoth God's demand for tribute, and even quietly cut off the Mammoth God's connection with other loa.

The result is that by the time the muscular mind of Motos finally realizes that things are wrong, things are already wrong.

"let me go!"

The desolate elephant's call was stirring in the cold wind. Motos looked at the trolls with different expressions around him, and their eyes burst out with anxiety, fear, and shame.

But more is to look forward to.

It is the anticipation of what is desired.

Motos has seen such a light countless times in the eyes of those weak people who seek power from him, but this time, what these trolls who respect him usually hope to get from him is not what he was given at random. power up.

Those stares and fanatical cries that wished to eat it up made the mighty mammoth god feel that his disaster was approaching.

A rare "fear" actually rose in its heart.

It's like a colossus surrounded by a group of ants. Although the ants are so small and the giant elephant is so big, when the ants are hungry enough and there are enough ants, even the elephant will be gnawed into dry bones.

"Aww!"

Motos's frenzied struggle quickly exhausted his remaining strength, and it was dragged to the ground by the bloodthirsty trolls in a deep mournful cry, falling like a collapsing hill.

Its fall cracked the ground and made the waiting frost trolls cheer loudly, making the scene even more frenzied.

The huge mammoth tried to get up but couldn't. It was poisoned by its own priest and weakened. It was also bound by a special chain to the platform where it usually enjoyed the tribute. The product is as embarrassing as it is.

Motos even had an illusion.

It feels like a "tribute" today.

"Malak! Your Majesty! Great Frost King! Say something! Do something! We are all watching you! Enforce the iron law we need!"

Amidst the frantic and crazy cheers and howls, Malak, the king of frost trolls, who was guarded by the Rhinoceros Riders of Drakkari, finally stood up from his throne shaped by skulls.

He wears a full set of clan battle armor as the troll commander, with two icy frost battleaxes on his waist and an ancient bone bow slung across his body. He will use it when fighting a bag of troll headhunters poisonous spear.

Compared with the last time he met Bo Laike, the Frost King of the Northland, who was in his prime, was visibly haggard and older.

Perhaps it was because of the psychological pressure caused by the unfavorable battle situation, or because he had to personally sacrifice another loa, which made him feel complicated. In short, no happiness and relaxation could be seen on the face of the most powerful frost troll. possible traces.

While the other trolls watched, Malak the Frost King standing on the skull throne carried by the barbarians raised his left hand, like a silent order, making the whole altar instantly quiet.

He stared at God Loa who fell on the ground and struggled but couldn't break free. A scornful light flashed in his ruthless eyes like ice, and he asked in a cold voice:

"Then, Zul'Drak's god of brute force, the mighty and invincible Matoth, who has been worshiped by the Drakkari trolls for hundreds of years, you have seen the vicious dead attacking the land beneath our feet.

You know, your followers need strength.

But they are humble and dare not speak to the gods so directly. As the king of the frost trolls, let me ask for them.

Motos!

Would you like to give your power to the troll warriors who need it? O mighty spirit born of this land, will you do whatever it takes to help us fight the evil dead? "

Malak's question was straightforward, without any sloppiness, or even any verbal cover-ups, and he almost said the words "tool man loa".

But this inquiry made Motos, who was already in a desperate situation, even more angry.

The Mammoth God slammed his heavy ivory on the ground, causing the masonry to shatter. It used this bursting action to represent its dissatisfaction and resistance. It roared:

"I have given every single one of your warriors the blessings I can give you! At the request of those cunning traitors, I created hundreds of mammoth warriors for you in just half a month!

I have not been so generous to my own blood!

But you are still not satisfied! "

"Because it's not enough!"

Facing Motos' rebuttal, Frost King Malak didn't hide the slightest bit, and he answered directly:

"The mammoth warriors you created for us have been killed and wounded on the front line, even though they killed ten times their number of enemies before they died in battle, it is still not enough!

Those powerful warriors could not resist the call of the evil force of death. Every time they fell, the power of the natural disaster would increase by one point.

We need warriors who can stand against death!

We need real warriors of the gods! "

"You're crazy!"

The Mammoth God roared:

"Even if I am willing, it will take at least ten years to train a group of god warriors for you. Wait! I know what you are going to do, madman!

You crazy lunatic!

I smelled the curse of Quesluen on this chain, that cunning wind snake did not die in the hands of the undead!

You killed it!

You have drained Quesluen's divine power and created so many fallen god warriors for you."

Motos finally came to his senses.

When it saw the dozen or so troll berserkers, headhunters and priests surrounded by divine power around Malak, it realized where its biggest crisis today came from.

Its bestial instincts are right.

It is actually the "tribute" that Malak wants to dedicate to the frost trolls today!

"We need at least 300 spirit warriors to resist the peak of the undead."

Malak the Frost King stood on his throne, raised his left hand, and shouted:

"You useless loa enjoy the offerings from the Drakkari trolls on weekdays, and you greedily devour the rare resources on this land.

You should abide by the ancient deeds of the gods.

Now your believers need your protection!

You must shelter!

I need a god warrior with your invincible power!

If you don't give it, then I'll take it myself!

This is what the Drakkari trolls deserve!

We have paid the price of offerings in the past for today's hunting, executioner! kill it! Pierce its heart, remove its fangs, and take away all available organs.

My loyal soldiers!

In the name of this land, today, I will allow you to feed on the gods! "

Malak roared and swung his Frost Axe.

Under his orders, more than a dozen specially-made thick spears with barbs pierced Matos's skin fiercely, causing the blood of the Mammoth God to spurt out.

The terrible pain caused Motos to widen his eyes, but it no longer let out a weak howl. Instead, the beast's eyes burst out with terrifying killing intent and cold determination.

As a simple and savage loa, Motos was able to get his name out of the intriguing Zuldak. In addition to its true strength, there is another point that cannot be ignored.

This guy is reckless enough!

Seeing those crazy frost trolls rushing towards it, howling and really planning to feed on the "god", Motos, who was weak in body but still violent in spirit, made up his mind.

It knows that it will never survive today, but it doesn't want to take advantage of these crazy idiots.

It's going to blow them up!

Go to hell with these trolls who once held themselves high in peacetime, and now try to sacrifice themselves as tributes in disasters!

"Bang, bang"

The deep beating of the heart echoed on the altar like a war drum.

That was Motos stirring his own heart power. It wanted to turn the divine power that the frost trolls were eager to plunder from its corpse into firewood, compressing and bursting out in an instant.

It will blow up all the treacherous bastards in front of it to powder!

You want this power?

it is good!

come on.

Come closer, I'll give it to you!

"not good!"

Upon seeing the chilling determination in Motos' eyes, Frost King Malak immediately realized that something was wrong. The bad temper of the mammoth god in front of him broke out at this terrible time.

It was indeed different from the weak Quesluen, and would not willingly accept the fate of being slaughtered and eaten.

"Walk!"

The king of the frost trolls gave an order, and the Drakkari barbarians who carried his skull throne immediately turned and ran away. While countless fanatical troll warriors rushed towards the weak loa, their leader gave up at this moment. they.

Obviously, Malak has a very clear understanding of the destructive power of Loa's divine power after self-explosion.

Everything seemed irreparable.

He would have lost many brave fighters for nothing, and it was a bad deal.

But at the same time as Malak retreated, a black shadow broke through the clouds in the cloudy, cold and snowy sky. Amidst the howls of the undead pirates and the wind elementals, the new pirate god descended from the sky laughing.

Gaboa, who was wearing a blood-red looting captain's cap, waved the hot wind scimitar in his hand, and storms mixed with shadow and poison swept across the altar covered with scorching divine power like long whips.

This scene was watched by Malak, but the Frost King just responded with a sneer.

These guys are trying to save Motos.

But they can't!

The self-explosion of the mammoth god's divine power has converged to the final stage, like a bomb that has entered the countdown, and nothing can stop this energy explosion that slaughtered everything.

"swish"

As the Reaper fired fiercely across the sky, driving away the frost trolls on the ground, a black shadow flickered in front of the howling Matos.

Not Boo Laike!

It was Maiev.

And her Highness Talanji, the troll princess, who was held by her neck in a very unseemly gesture.

"I warn you, elf! If you dare to be so rude to me, I will hang you on the gallows. I swear it in the name of the Golden Dynasty! I am a noble princess!"

Princess Talanji, who was extremely embarrassed after landing, yelled at Maiev.

Maievli ignored her, turned around and rushed into the chaotic battlefield, and began to throw knives. Maiev seemed to enjoy this kind of killing, but it was normal. The hatred of elves and trolls was beyond the reach of even the stupidest wild boar. knew.

The noble Princess Talanji gritted her teeth in anger, but she had no choice but to stomp her feet angrily, then turned around and fell to her knees with a plop.

She opened her arms and called out the name of the king of all spirits before Motos' eyes.

"Great Rezan, show your majesty and benevolence, and save this desperate soul in front of you!"

Following the call of Princess Talanji, golden and blue smoke rolled out, and on the entire chaotic battlefield platform belonged to the guardian of the kings, and the huge phantom of Rezan, the god of strength, appeared out of thin air.

The gigantic Devilsaur God roared up to the sky, raised his thick left foot like a war hammer, and slammed it on the head of the red-eyed Matos.

This is how Rezan saves his weaker companions!

It may not be able to stop Loa's divine power from exploding, but it can stun this lunatic Loa in one jio, allowing the concentration of divine power to forcibly stop.

The divine power belonging to Rezan collided with the already extremely unstable power of the Mammoth God, smashing the entire altar and forcing Matos, who was about to explode, into the deepest coma.

Just listening to the sound of the woolly elephant's head hitting the ground, one could tell that Rezan's jio might have crushed Motos's skull.

Of course, for a Loa, such an injury is not fatal.

At least compared to a life, fatal injuries are just drizzle.

"this!!!"

Seeing the vision of Rezan appearing on the land of Zul'Drak with his own eyes, Malak, the Frost King, was shocked.

As a troll leader, he certainly recognized Rezan, and he also knew that such a powerful loa belonged only to the royal family of the Golden Dynasty. In other words, the pesky Zandalari trolls have infiltrated Zul'Drak?

Damn it!

"Zandalari? Hehe."

Malak squinted his eyes and glanced at the extremely chaotic altar, and with a frosty face, he ignored everything that happened there.

He knew that he had to go back to his palace immediately and gather his army.

He keenly sensed an opportunity.

The Zandalari would have to fight the local undead Scourge if they wanted to save the loa, which meant that the Frost King could take the opportunity to recover his strength.

King Shuang thought very well, he was so fat.

But just when he looked back. But he saw the scene where the last divine guard next to him was pierced through the heart by a golden vulgar machete and fell down.

The bastard who killed his guard just bent down carelessly and wiped the blood from the blade on the dead man's battle armor.

Bu Laike looked at the scattered gold coins in his hand, kicked the corpse under his feet, scolded the poor man, then turned his head and looked at Malak who was holding the Frost Battle Ax tightly behind him.

He tilted his head and blinked, and said to Malak:

"You recognize me, right? Dear King of Godslayer, look at you, you have finally become the ruthless commander I predicted.

Exactly the same as I warned you back then.

To be honest, sometimes I really admire my own precise control of the future.

Put down your arms, His Majesty Malak, we can talk about fate and the future. Since your Drakkari Empire has collapsed, and you also need to support your family, the dignified former king can't just beg for garbage, right?

Take my word for it, old Garney was a good friend but not a good leader.

And how indecent is that?

I mean, if you need it, maybe I can introduce you to a good job under the Lich King. Of course, remember to pay me a good agency fee.

what.

I didn’t notice it last time, fellow, your skull is in good shape.”

(end of this chapter)