Shadow Trails in Azeroth

"What Frostmourne needs is not to be destroyed. What it needs is a master. This is why the demons threw it into this world."

Blake didn't feel what had just happened. He just felt that the Salamani sisters' swords, which were killing enemies on the battlefield, were coming here at a very fast speed.

Probably the two sword ladies were worried about their master's safety and came to "protect him".

That's not a bad thing.

In the dark and cold hall, he glanced at the prophet, and Viren also looked at Black.

The pirate coughed and said:

"Yes, you are the sword holder they selected, but unfortunately, you 'relyed on yourself' and 'helped by noble people' to get rid of that shameful conspiracy.

I would also like to congratulate Your Excellency the Prophet of endless blessings here.

It is really a great thing that you have escaped from a shameful trap created just for you. "

The smelly pirate laughed and said something meaningful to the prophet. The latter nodded. The tacit understanding between the prophets allowed him to understand Black's "sounds between words".

Viren glanced at the restrained demon son beside him.

He knew that he owed Blake a huge favor.

The pirate glanced appreciatively at Hisari Black Crow, who had completed the task very well. The latter snorted expressionlessly, feeling bad knowing that he was being used as a pawn by the stinky pirates.

But since she has long been accustomed to Blake's damn style, she doesn't feel too much anger in her heart. Instead, she feels that she can personally save the Draenei's prophet and thereby save the future of this troubled race. To be thankful.

Finally, Blake looked at the spinning ice blue magic sword in front of him. In this dark hall full of undead, he said:

"We must find an owner for it here, otherwise Frostmourne will not be satisfied. It must have an excellent sword wielder to exert all its power."

"I come!"

High Lord Ravencase took a step forward and said without hesitation:

"This sword exudes the aura of death from the inside out. Any living person who comes into contact with it will be ruthlessly corroded. Only I am the most suitable dead person here!

My will is strong enough, I can"

"No, you can't, High Lord."

Blake shook his head and said:

"This magic sword was born in the world of the dead. It was forged by the most legendary and powerful Eternal in that world. The knowledge and power it carries come directly from the Firstborn who shaped the Death Stars.

It was created for the sole purpose of spreading death and chaos throughout the material world of the stars.

It's a pity though.

But you can't even resist Apocalypse's bewitchment. If you have to face Frostmourne, the power of soul control is at least ten times that of Apocalypse. The moment you come into contact with it, you will be controlled by it and become a sad sword. slave'. "

"Don't bother!"

The demon boy Lakish, who was bound by Viren with the Holy Light, witnessed the discussion of this group of mortals. This guy with a complicated life experience, who had just died once and was rescued by his father, sneered and said:

"Do you know why the demons must choose the Prophet Velen as the sword bearer?

Because Velen is the ‘benchmark’ for sword wielders!

To perfectly control this magic sword, the mind and will of the sword holder must not be weaker than Velen. For mortals, this is really a terrifying standard that makes people despair. "

"yes."

The devil's sarcasm made Black nod repeatedly. He rubbed his chin, looked at Frostmourne and said:

"Even I, who have always been confident, don't have the courage to touch it. Although I think there is a high probability that nothing will happen to me, but why should I gamble on something that is related to my life?"

"Same willpower as a prophet? You're kidding, right?"

Hisari Black Crow said with a tone of despair:

"Your Excellency Velen has lived for more than 30,000 years! He led his people to avoid the pursuit of demons in the stars for 25,000 years, and he is still the most powerful god chosen by the Holy Light among the stars!

How many people in the entire galaxy can match his willpower? "

"No, no, no, living a long time does not mean strong willpower, and the temptation of Frostmourne is not a simple confrontation of willpower. It will amplify the dark side in the heart of the sword holder.

And there is darkness in everyone's heart. "

Blake shook his head and looked at the prophet, and he said:

"I don't mean to offend you, Your Majesty the Prophet, but as far as I know, there are at least two people on this battlefield who have stronger willpower than the Prophet.

Brox Saurfang and my idiot sister Finna.

In the field of willpower, warriors with iron will are the real leaders. But unfortunately, I cannot allow any of them to hold this sword. "

"What should we do now?"

Lord Ravencrest stared at the rotating dark magic sword in front of him that was constantly tempting people. He said:

"We must control it. If the sword holder can control the undead on the battlefield, then we will win this battle. If we allow it to continue to cause chaos, the longer the battle lasts, the greater the possibility of our failure."

"That's why I'm here."

Blake snapped his fingers and said:

"I have a 'cheat'.

I can channel the power of the Ancient One into the soul of a willing warrior, giving him or her the ability to temporarily resist the infestation of Frostmourne's soul.

But enduring the erosion of death and void at the same time means that there is a high probability that this warrior will die miserably after his soul and will are exhausted. "

"Then I'll do it!"

The deceased Ravencase gritted his teeth and said:

“I will give anything to win this victory!

This is the first battle in the eternal war between the Black Crow Chapter and the demons. As the leader of the Black Crow Knights, I must win a glorious victory for them. "

"You still have a wife and children. Great Lord, calm down and think about them."

The high lord's self-recommendation was instantly rejected by Black. He shook his head and said:

"Without your leadership, the Black Crow Chapter will lose its soul. Your significance to the Black Crow Knights is no less than what Illidan means to the Illidari.

And in the demonic war that is about to begin in our world, you are also an important figure in uniting the power of the Kaldorei.

I don't want to see you die miserably here. "

During their discussion, a petite figure that no one noticed clenched his fists.

She seemed to have made up her mind. After a few seconds, amidst the exclamations of the undead and prophets around her, she quickly rushed to the altar and reached out to grab the suspended magic sword.

"Snapped"

The wolf's edge that Blake swung knocked the petite figure to the ground, and the great lord's magic sword Apocalypse was pressed against her scarred neck.

"You can't touch it! Weak undead."

Ravencase scolded:

"Didn't you hear the warnings we just said? You are so weak that you will be controlled by it the moment you come into contact with it. Did you decide to commit suicide in this way after you died?

I know the undead all have psychological problems!

But this kind of eternal death is not a good experience. "

"I just don't have time to listen to your discussion anymore!"

The female Draenei who was pinned to the ground by the pirates and the Death Lord raised her head. The blood-red soul fire in her eyes was beating, representing her strong emotions.

She shouted:

“There are still so many people suffering outside, and I can hear their wails, just like the massacres and tragedies I heard and saw at the Temple of Karabor.

I couldn't stop it at that time.

But now. Maybe I can."

The Archon's Seal on her forehead that Velen had just given with the Enlightenment Seal was beating, outlining a dark but vivid light, representing the undead's excited mind.

"Hey, Yrel, if it's you"

Black did not reject this female undead outright like Lord Ravencrest. He just looked at the undead Draenei hoof sister in front of him with a strange look.

After a few seconds, the stinky pirate released his weapon and gestured to the high lord.

The latter looked at Blake in confusion, and he said in a serious voice:

"Are you sure you want her to try? Once it can't control itself, Frostmourne will get all the power from the sword-wielding man and bury us all here!"

"I am a prophet, High Lord. I can see destiny."

Blake looked at the female undead who got up from the ground with a gray face and a strength that was not even legendary. There was a strange light in his eyes and he whispered:

"What you are standing in front of is not an ordinary undead. Her destiny to greatness has been cut off by death, but she still has the qualifications to become a great or cruel person.

No matter what choice she makes, the world will change because of her.

I think she could give it a try.

It doesn't hurt for us. "

After saying that, the pirate turned sideways, made a "please" gesture to Yrel, and put his hand on her neck.

At this moment, the female undead felt a cold and tyrannical will merge into her soul like a tide, and Black's voice also sounded as Xal'atath strengthened her soul.

He said:

"With your strength, even if you pick up Frostmourne and your soul is not destroyed by my 'cheating' method, you will have to put it down after ten minutes at most.

Don't try to challenge yourself!

You have to understand that what you hold in your hands is the fate of the world you regard as your second home. "

"Um."

Yirel pursed his lips and nodded.

As a dead person, she took a deep breath as if she were alive. With everyone around her, including the undead, looking anxiously and expectantly, she stretched out her hand to hold the humming Frostmourne magic sword in front of her.

The moment her fingers touched the hilt of the magic blade, Black's voice suddenly sounded in her mind:

"Well, I have a question that I have always been concerned about. I hope it won't offend you.

After you were captured by Kargath Bladefist, you stayed in his arena for a long time. Well, you don't have to try to deceive me, little girl, I know exactly when you died.

You did not die in the massacre of Karabor.

You hide this from others because you have experienced a more tragic fate, as you can see by looking at the wounds on your body. What I'm curious about is, did the orcs do anything outrageous to you in that arena?

Well, you are an adult girl, you should understand what I want to ask.

Well, please satisfy the curiosity of this dirty pirate like me. "

This question made Yrel silent for several seconds.

Then she grabbed the hilt of Frostmourne's sword in front of her. As the power of death poured into the body of this weak undead, Yrel's soul let out an unspeakable wail even with the protection of Xal'atath. .

Amidst the overwhelming whine, Yrel endured the pain and said to the pirate word by word:

"It was those humiliations that gave me strength! But you want to know that? I will tell you, no! I died as a warrior.

Before I died, I hacked down every orc that tried to get close to me! "

"Well, that's really a shame."

Blake curled his lips. He watched Yrel's red soul fire in front of him transform into a bone-chilling ice blue bit by bit. He held his pipe in his mouth and whispered:

"I have news that may cheer you up and keep you from seeking self-destruction for a little longer. Your enemy Kargath Bladefist is still alive in my territory.

Want to kill him with your own hands? "

"I want to! Every day and night I die, every minute I am resurrected, in the name of the dead who died with me, I want to kill him with my own hands!

This has nothing to do with hate.

It’s not even about my suffering.

Just an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and blood for blood! "

Holding Frostmourne in her hand, Yrel opened her mouth, and streams of cold air flowed down from her forehead, shaping a cold skull mask and a frost crown on her cheeks.

These two things complement each other beautifully with the Archon's Seal on Yrel's forehead.

She turned around and looked behind her. The moment she raised the magic sword, the blood-red soul fire in the eyes of the undead in the hall turned into the same blue as Yrel.

It's like a signal.

With the hall of Karabor Temple as the center, a roaring will swept across the entire Shadowmoon Valley like an invisible shock wave. The brainless undead who were killing and attacking on the battlefield all stopped at this moment.

They roared and cheered in the direction of the Temple of Karabor, celebrating the final arrival of their master and commander.

The many unnecessary movements on this battlefield caused the undead to be quickly chopped down by the surrounding demons, but it didn't matter. The next second, they dragged their incomplete, burning bodies and stood up again.

More undead are being awakened.

Amid the screams of Frostmourne, those ancient tombs began to riot, and even the Shadowmoon Clan's deepest-hidden and destroyed Shadowmoon Cemetery began a carnival of the dead.

The dead, no matter when or where they died.

They were called to war.

They must respond!

Even the high lord Ravencrest couldn't control his soul of the dead and wanted to kneel down to the petite woman holding the magic sword in front of him. But Apocalypse grabbed the great lord's soul fiercely and repeatedly beat his will to make him sober.

No kneeling!

Don't kneel down to my good-for-nothing sister!

asshole!

You are my sword bearer!

If you are so weak again, I will bite your soul into pieces!

"If you want to, just try to survive."

The stinky pirate grinned, set his dwarf pocket watch to countdown to ten minutes, hung it on Yrel's arm, made a gesture of time flowing, and said in a bad tone:

“Remember, your ‘Lich King Experience Voucher’ only lasts for ten minutes. If you die again, Kargath Bladefist can continue to be free.

That's not what you want to see, right?

You undead soul with a death wish, I will give you a reason to live, don't let me down.

Now"

Blake pointed to the battlefield outside the hall and said:

"Have you seen those demons who are wreaking havoc in your world, showing off their power and being extremely arrogant? Do you think you can win?"

"Um."

Yrel, holding the magic sword and wearing the crown, nodded, like a killing machine waiting to go out.

The pirate waved his finger downwards and said in a deep voice in Yrel's soul:

"Crush them to death!"