Azeroth’s Death Track

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"I often ask myself, what is the meaning of death?"

"Look, I have been in death for too long, too long, but for this very simple question, I still don't have an answer that will satisfy everyone."

"In the beginning, I thought death was the end. The end of all things represented despair, pain, coldness, and stillness."

"However, I soon discovered that my understanding of death was too bland and no different from those of ordinary people, which prevented me from continuing to explore the deeper power of death, so I began to concentrate on research..."

Tyrion sits on the ground of the Naru seat in the city of Shattar. In this dark scene, he is like a teacher who preached and puzzled, teaching a newcomer who is new to death. His precious knowledge, and in front of him, the prophet Velen held his son's body, so he knelt down on the ground, leaving his **** robe stained with ashes and stains.

The seal of the draenei leader filled with the Holy Light on the forehead of the prophet has long been broken. Now he is like a hanged old man, a near-dead who has reached the end of his life, and it seems that he has been crushed by something painful. Witness, witnessing the blood of the original being strangled by himself, witnessed the most important person in his life, died under his sword... This is a real human tragedy.

His eyes are no longer shining, they are no longer filled with the radiance of the stars like they used to be, they are no longer like the wise man who has mastered all the mysteries of the stars, his eyes are muddy, and the stagnation and pain full of them make him It looks like a crucifix statue.

This is perhaps the most substantial interpretation of suffering...

A story about affection, hatred and killing, and the only witness to this story is the chattering death agent who sits beside him, who likes to appreciate all the tragedies and comedies, Tyrion. Blade of Dawn.

"Hey guy!"

Tyrion extended his finger and snapped his fingers in front of the dull Velen. He tried to attract the prophet's attention in this way. He asked softly:

"You know, after I stepped deeper into death, what kind of truth did I realize?"

The Prophet didn’t answer. He didn’t want to answer. He didn’t want to care about anything. He just wanted to hold his son like that, stay here so quietly, just so quietly... die.

In fact, he now hopes that Tyrion will wield his sword and give him a sword so that he can meet his son in hell.

At this moment, Velen felt like a heartless monster. Perhaps his son's accusations against him before death were true. He was a monster...a monster shaped by the Holy Light !

It was a choice. Rakish's actions were all tortured. If Velen calmed down, he would find the deep disappointment behind Rakish's questioning.

It is a pity that Velen finally chose a faith between his relatives and faith. He did not even spend a little more time to explore the identity of Rakish, just because this demon is about to destroy a Naru, an old friend.

Faith, at that moment, blinded his eyes.

Let him do something that he can never forgive himself.

"Oops."

The high lord looked at him without saying a word, as if completely shutting down his prophet. He shrugged. In the dark, he took two of the best cigars from the cigar box he carried with him, and emerged in the black fire. After igniting, he stuffed one of them into the prophet's hand, and the other enjoyed it himself. Between the clouds and the mist, he said to the prophet:

"Throw away all those health advices. You see, compared to the harm caused by these products, doing bad things is obviously more unhealthy... Come on, this thing can make you tense After a moment of relaxation, my discussion with you is not over yet."

"You know what I saw after you stepped into death, what did I learn?"

Tyrion’s voice fluttered and flowed in the dark, like a viper snake meandering in a deep light curtain, vomiting vicious believers, tangling bit by bit around the prophet’s body, he used that The lingering voice said in the ear of the prophet:

"I was wrong, death is not cold, it is not unsympathetic, it is not ugly... it is beautiful, passionate and fair, it is a blessing! An ultimate interpretation of freedom and order, you See, in this world, not everyone can live the way they imagine, but anyone can arrange their own deaths..."

"That's the incompetent's final fight against the world's indifference! But unfortunately, death doesn't open up to anyone...whether you are a powerful man or a stubborn farmer, whether you are an evil person who throws into the dark, still is..."

Tyrion's voice stopped, and he made a short laugh:

"It's still a man who claims he can predict the future... the Prophet!"

"It's punishing you! Velen... because of the deaths you bear, the innocent souls of Draenor who died because of you, the painful hissing echoed in the dark temple, the cry of despair in Shattrath City, Thai The ones that never rest in the ruins of Moore... have you seen it?"

The lord patted the prophet on the shoulder. He lowered his voice:

"Look, they are right behind you... they pray for death to punish you, and that is their last expectation, and death will never let them down! Your son tells you that he is redeeming you, what he said is Really...he died for you, and you, you are still alive in the world, but a meaningless body, your heart is already dead... after you over-indulge in faith and neglect At the moment of reality, your heart is dead."

"Of course, you can continue to pray for the Holy Light, the omnipotent Holy Light... Maybe, it can bring back your son?"

Tyrion's sarcasm is like a hammer, thrashing between the broken heart of the Prophet Velen, causing him to quickly glide into a worse scene in an already bad state, echoing in that body Under the impact of despair and pain, a trace of infiltrating blood appeared on the Prophet's chapped lips, and his blue face also shone an abnormal blush.

"You...what do you want to say..."

The Prophet raised his sleeves and wiped the blood stains on the corners of his mouth. He glanced at the burning cigar. The collapsed old man held the body of his son in one hand, and the other hand, put the never contaminated enjoyment in the Holy In the doctrine of light, the intriguing temptation was placed on his mouth. He took a deep breath, and between the deep coughs, the prophet said in a slightly inaudible voice:

"If you can help me, then speak..."

"If you laugh at me, go away! I need to be quiet, and my Nuri also needs to be quiet... I want to be with him, I haven't been with him for a long time, I'm in no mood... and I don't have time to listen You say this!"

There was an unabashed disgust in the hoarse voice. Obviously, the old Velen had no intention of confounding with Tyraon anymore.

The lord is not angry because of the prophet's bad attitude, he is not a villain! Please! The poor old man in front of him had just died his son, can't he let him vent his frustration?

"I am the lord of the dead, Velen, my friend."

The high lord put his hands on his knees sitting cross-legged, and he said with excitement in the dark:

"Perhaps during your lifetime, you people, or believe in the Holy Light, or kneel to evil energy, or believe in the weird things of nature, but after death...you all belong to me!"

"I came here to generously provide you with a useful means, a means to replace helpless suffering and meaningless self-blame! A means to regain dignity before death!"

He spoke, taking a delicate little bottle from the pocket lined with the sword robes, which was made of crystal, and looked like a potion made by alchemists, and between the shaking of the big lord’s fingers The liquid in the little bottle exudes a colorful and gentle halo in the dark, like a layer of moon veil.

"This is what I will offer you, my friend."

"Let me introduce it to you, this is a treasure that my lovely daughters accidentally found during an expedition. Oh, it may not be called a treasure. In short, on the mainland of Pandaria, the one that has been circulating for thousands of years , The legend about the youthless spring...It is said that as long as you drink a spring of water, you can get real immortality without any side effects. It is a gem bestowed by the gods to those who are the luckiest...When you hear this, you may ask , Does this thing really exist?"

There was a strange smile on Terion’s face:

"Of course it exists! It is here!"

"However, there is no perfect thing in this world, and this spring water will not let you live forever. Everyone likes to add their own speculations to such legends, and then between word of mouth, it will become More and more outrageous, but in fact, it has only one effect... a very simple, but very important effect for you now."

"Life Conversion!"

Lord Lord handed the crystal bottle filled with aging spring water to Wei Lun, he said:

"Take a sip for your dead son, and then take another sip for yourself. Your immortal life will flow like spring water, pouring into your son's dead body, and he will be resurrected... even Will become healthier than before! He will become an immortal like you, he will be your heir, and you..."

Tyrion’s voice became extremely indifferent at this moment:

"you will die!"

"boom"

The crystal bottle was seized by Velen in a rude way. Without any hesitation, he would twist the bottle open and pour the spring water into his son's mouth, but at this moment, Terion's faint voice spread Come:

"Is it really so urgent? Evil energy, like the poison of tarsal bones, invades the body and soul of Xiao Nuri, resurrects him without treatment, is it really wise? Or, Velen, you want your resurrection Son, continue to be the running dog of Kil'jaeden or Sargeras? Let him continue to be a destroyer of all things...is it really possible to do this?"

Velen's movements stopped in midair. At the next moment, the Lord's cold hand rested on Velen's shoulder. He said:

"You and I, as father laborers, always want to create a perfect and bright future for our children, I know your inner thoughts, Velen, you hope that your son can become a draenei savior , To be the liberator of Argus... You want him to become a legend, I know, and I hope my daughter can do something big..."

"Remember Vihari?"

Tyrion said a name that made Velen unable to resist clenching his fists:

"Vihari did not escape from the legion. She experienced the "redemption" of death. Of course, she is my person. I believe you already know this. Don't be angry... What I want to tell you is, My subordinates perfectly dealt with the evil energy in Vihari's body, turning her back into a healthy and beautiful Draenei girl, I can save her, I can also save Nuri, save your son."

The Lord Lord said that at this moment, he would not go on, but Velen felt a bit from Tyrion’s silence... After a moment, the Prophet stood up trembling, and he looked at his face and sat at Lord of the ground, his voice asked obscurely:

"What do you ask me to do?"

"Awesome!"

Tyrion clapped his hands and said like a happy child:

"Everyone now understands the style of Dark Edge, which is really great. As for what I want you to do... let me think about it."

Lord Lord extended his fingers and rubbed his forehead. After a moment of thinking, he tilted his head and looked at the prophet in front of him. He whispered:

"I want you to be...Avenger!"

"There is no mercy, no bottom line. Those evil things that Kil'jaeden has done to you and your family, I hope you can multiply ten times, one hundred times, one thousand times the blessing with it! Don't be merciless! Don't give up halfway!"

"I hope that in my face, you cruelly remove every piece of flesh and blood and break every bone of him! Let him kneel like the old dog with a broken spine in the most painful wailing In front of me, weeping and weeping begging me to give him "benevolent" death..."

"And I... I will reject him! His skull will become my favorite collection, and his blood-stained bones will be the starting point of your dark journey..."

"Kirgadan's eternal despair and torture will become "Avenger" Velen, and it will be your wildest proof of the dark power of the stars! And you... you will be the first knight with a dark blade Kill the death lord of Argus, and you will personally insert the hunted death banner of Dark Blade at the very top of Argus's burning throne!"

"In that icy and deadly way, declare the absolute control of Dark Blade over Argus! There, that world... will become the new bastion of Dark Blade, it will become the dawn of the age of death, and I will also harvest a worthy treasure Of...Death Titan!"

Tyrion narrowed his eyes. He looked at the prophet in front of him. He said softly:

"How? For this request I made that you can't refuse... what is your reply?"

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