Shadow Trails in Azeroth

Black and his crew landed in a land of Zandalari called Nazmir.

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

In the world of Azeroth, the first batch of intelligent original beings were born here.

It was abandoned due to a disaster called the blood plague, and the corrupted blood trolls came because of this, but behind the blood plague, there was a terrifying secret.

But it's not the only secret on this land.

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

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

Blake has never been to Hades.

At least not in the real world, but now he has entered Bwonsamdi's palace, holding the soul-inducing lamp, shrouded in pale light, allowing him to cross the curtain that isolates the living.

As soon as you enter this land of death, a chill of the soul emanates.

The pirate looked around.

At this point in time, the Hades Palace was not as decadent and desolate as he remembered. At least the building did not collapse too much, but it looked in disrepair, as if it would collapse if touched.

The soil under his feet was chilling, and he could vaguely see the weathered white bones that were usually 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 they were dismembered.

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

It's like deliberately torturing people.

Bwonsamdi's Hades Temple occupies a small area. From where Blake is standing, he can see it all at a glance. However, this place is very strange. There is no one around.

This is not normal.

No matter how withdrawn Bwonsamdi is, no matter how unpopular he is, he is still a Loa.

It has its own priests.

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

This fully demonstrated that Bwonsamdi did not welcome him as a guest and had no intention of showing up to meet him. He did not even send a servant. It was really rude at all.

Blake curled his lips and continued forward with the soul-inducing lamp, walking across the desolate stone bridge. Under the bridge were a group of suffering troll souls, wailing and cursing endlessly.

But the pirates ignored them.

Outside the Palace of Hades, 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 judgment of the God of Death.

But today it's equally empty.

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

The number is quite impressive.

Not only are there straight-backed Zandalar trolls, but there are also trolls from other clans in other parts of the world who always have hunched backs.

Bwonsamdi is the god of death.

Theoretically, after all trolls die, their souls come to it.

It is not as particular as Hela, and it even built a ghost ship to pick up those ghosts.

Old Bwonsamdi was very ruthless towards his followers.

It allows them to walk across the road of soul with both feet, from afar, across the world, and come to the God of Death. As for whether those weak spirits will dissipate along the way, this is not a question that old Bwonsamdi would care about.

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

"Then shall I come in?"

Blake was holding a soul-inducing lamp and stood alone in front of the road to the main hall of Hades. He raised the lamp in his hand and looked around, but did not find any hidden spirits.

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

He shouted loudly, and there were empty echoes. The pirate stood there and waited for a few seconds, but no Bwonsamdi priest or Death Sword Guard came over to beat him.

He held the lamp confidently and boldly and walked towards the main hall of the Hades Palace.

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

The interior furnishings were very old, and there were no luxurious gold items. It looked as miserable as if it had been robbed by bandits.

Poor and useless.

It was so simple that the pirate almost cried.

From this point of view, Bwonsamdi is really a very honest Loa. It does not require its followers to pay tribute to it with luxury goods decorated with jewelry.

Hey, the golden city of Dazarori, the Loas who wear gold and silver and adorn their bodies with jewels! Learn from others!

I'm talking about you, the shameless Tyrannosaurus Rezan!

Do you know how many pirates could become rich overnight by removing those gold foil gems inlaid on your huge body?

But poverty will lead to poverty.

Only when you truly step into the inner hall of the temple can you see the majesty of the God of Death.

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

There was an abyss-like stream of light below the temple, floating with the same burning power as the blood moon outside the Hades.

It's like being separated from life and death.

Hela's death power is pale, like the salty sea water when desperate and suffocated.

Bwonsamdi's power is a mixture of red and blue, like the world when his eyes are covered with blood, and like the light when his soul is burning.

"I brought you a gift."

Black held the soul lantern in his hand, and Gul'dan's soul roared and struggled in it.

The great warlock seemed to feel that his end was approaching again.

"I originally planned to dedicate this dark soul to Hela, but then I thought about it. That madwoman wouldn't favor me just because I gave her good things.

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 find you, hello! Why don't you show up and have a few words with me? "

Blake'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 magic essence to those who need it, and then ask them to repay several times the return at some point.

You are different from Hela.

You are cunning, vicious, cruel, smart, and cautious. Your trading partners are all over the stars, and even in the world outside reality.

You even made deals with brokers from the Shadow Realm."

The pirate was lying on the steps, shaking the pale lantern in his hand, as if luring the fish in the sea with bait, he said:

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

There was no response, making Blake a little impatient.

He has been waiting for death.

He knew Bwonsamdi was here.

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

Habron kept saying that Bwonsamdi was afraid of Hela and would never help Black, the betrayer of Hades.

But Black knew better.

Bwonsamdi is not afraid of Hela.

What it fears is another god of death.

"Do you really want me to say that forbidden name in your temple? If you don't help me, I will have no choice but to look for it in despair!"

Blake looked at the swaying sea of ​​death below the steps of the inner hall. On it, he could see souls turning into human faces, wailing in pain, but making no sound.

Those painful faces appeared more and more, seeming to represent a warning and an urging.

Go now!

Old Bwonsamdi doesn't welcome you!

"That is the god of death, the son of time, the father of sleep, the friend of the night."

The pirate spoke out the priesthoods and titles one by one in non-standard troll language. With each word he spoke, the red and blue sea of ​​death below began to boil.

It represents Bwonsamdi's mood swings.

From shock to anger.

and finally to disgust and hostility.

This change in emotion caused changes around the entire Hades Palace. Strong winds blew, thousands of souls roared, and black smoke rose around the originally empty Hades Palace.

The weathered and decaying masks of various colors that were hung as decorations on the buildings around the Palace of Hades began to be filled with blue aura.

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

Only their upper bodies were floating, like a mixture of humans and spiders. Auras of light formed decayed cloaks behind them, and those masks were their faces.

They roared, suspended in mid-air, carrying troll-style death swords, and rushed towards the hall of the Hades Temple.

Bwonsamdi was impatient.

Since this evil guest doesn't want to leave, old Bwonsamdi doesn't mind entertaining him and will stay here forever.

Um.

Speaking of which, having troll souls everywhere in Hades is a bit too monotonous. One more bold human might make this place livelier.

"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 who vows to engulf Azeroth. It is Musara Antyne!"

Blake felt the divine power of death surging behind him. It was another kind of power that was different from Hela's crazy power. They were both interpretations of death, but there were subtle differences.

He also ignored the strange structures behind him that could only exist in the nightmares of the soul, and the cold and combat-savvy Death Sword Guards.

He shouted the forbidden name loudly in Bwonsamdi's palace of the underworld:

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

"That's Muezala, the King of the Dead! The God of Death!"

"That's enough! You villain!"

When that name was finally spoken, a deafening roar finally sounded in the temple of Hades.

As that voice emerged, the Death Sword Guard who was swinging his sword behind Blake also stopped.

The blood moon is getting brighter and brighter at night.

As Blake watched, a strangely dressed troll, Loa, finally slowly rose from the boiling sea of ​​death below.

The illusion it chose at this time was not tall, just like an ordinary troll.

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

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

There are also shin guards decorated with white bones on the legs.

Because he is the God of Death, his illusory body is covered with traces of stitching, and there are white bones exposed under some of the skin. The six fingers of his hands have completely turned into bone.

And its face.

There is still flesh on the chin, but the upper half of the face is completely made of bones. The eyes exude blue soul fire, two white fangs protrude from the mouth, and there are also the sharp long ears that are the trademark of the troll.

The most peculiar thing is its hair.

Black and very lush.

It's like hair when you were alive, very long but not curly.

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

It looked angry.

It hovered in front of Blake's eyes, and he put his head closer to the cheek that looked like a bone mask. The soul fire in his eyes was shining, and he glared at the human in front of him fiercely.

It stretched out its sharp white fingers and pointed at Blake's heart.

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

It said in a hoarse, lazy, always elongated voice that sounded like it was always laughing and always sarcastic:

"Why are you so annoying! When you saw old Bwonsamdi clearing out the Underworld and driving away all the noisy priests, you should know that I don't welcome you.

You want to make a deal with old Bwonsamdi?

No no no! "

It straightened up, waved its hands, raised its waist again, and said in an exaggerated tone:

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

let's go.

Old Bwonsamdi will not make a deal with you or give you a taste of my magic essence.

Hela is crazy.

If poor old Bwonsamdi accepts you, she will rush over and tear down my Hades. Look at this shabby place like mine. If it’s torn down again, I won’t have the money to build it up again. "

A sincere smile appeared on the terrifying face of the Troll Death.

It hovered above Blake's head and said to him condescendingly:

"What a shame, my friend.

The last god who could help you has rejected you.

You are dead.

Ah ha ha ha, old Bwonsamdi is really sad to see you so unlucky.

Well, I was just faking it!

Ha ha ha ha. "