Shadow Trails in Azeroth

"Um?"

The Archmage Modera, who was meditating in the cabin of Lordaeron's naval flagship, was suddenly awakened by a strange wave of magic.

She felt as if an oversized mana bomb had been detonated on her spiritual level.

If it weren't for the orthodox mages who habitually cast a few spiritual protection spells on themselves before meditating, the sudden burst of magic power just now would have been enough for the archmage to stay in bed for at least a week.

The gray-haired female mage opened her eyes in surprise. With a squeeze of her fingers, her Archmage's Staff flew into her hand, and she was sent to the mast observation deck of the battleship with a standard flash.

The highest position of the ship provided Ms. Modera with an excellent view, allowing her to clearly see the pirate island called "Rogue Port" in the distance.

When she saw what was happening in front of her, this master-level spellcaster in the world of human magic suddenly widened his eyes, and he didn't even seem to notice the silent fall of the staff in his hand.

Being so shocked to the point of numbness meant that the Archmage must have seen something unbelievable.

that's the truth.

In Ms. Modera's magical perception, she was seeing that the basic space system that made up this sea area was being destroyed in a way that she could not imagine or even understand.

It was like a huge space singularity that had never been seen before erupted before our eyes, like the first black fire at the end of the world. It was shaping the physical world in front of us in a brutal way that destroyed the Archmage's magical world view. An amazingly large hole.

No!

It might be more appropriate to call it a "wormhole".

Beside the sluggish Archmage, fleet spellcasters appeared in flashes one after another, but when each of them saw what was happening in front of them, they would fall into indescribable silence and death.

Then a strange scene happened on the observation deck of Lordaeron Navy's flagship. More and more spellcasters appeared here, but the place became increasingly silent.

The atmosphere quickly became depressingly silent.

But the sailors on the deck of the entire fleet didn't seem to see the horrific scene seen by the mages at all. They just felt the sea breeze suddenly blowing fiercely.

And some strange sounds can be heard from the wind.

There was a dense clicking sound like a large piece of glass being broken.

For these big-headed soldiers who have no knowledge of magic or magic perception, it is impossible for them to see through the surface that magic power and space are being destroyed.

They can't even understand what these things represent.

But this ignorance turned out to be a good thing at this moment, which prevented the sailors from falling into the same despair as the mages.

With an attitude of "the ignorant are fearless", they pushed forward the work at hand with full motivation. There was no delay for a minute or a second. The deployment of the entire fleet was not affected. The sailors of the fleet were still preparing for the launch. He was busy preparing for the general attack on the North Sea pirates, but he turned a blind eye to the disaster that was imminent.

Archmage Modera woke up after dozens of seconds of sluggishness. She glanced at the expanding spatial singularity in front of her, tried to calm herself down, and then began to quickly calculate what was in front of her with the thinking of an orthodox archmage. Once this space wormhole, which is like an invisible sun, ruptures, it will have an impact on this sea area and even this continent.

Within seconds, Ms. Modera received an answer that frightened her.

"Inform Marshal Westwin immediately!"

She gritted her teeth and said to a random caster behind her:

"Let him, his commanders, and the sailors be prepared to receive cross-continental teleportation! We will do our best to send them to as safe a place as possible before the space in this sea area collapses."

"boom"

A sudden loud noise interrupted the Archmage's words.

She looked up and looked ahead where the sea breeze was blowing more and more rapidly. The magic power that exploded after the space wall that was constantly collapsing inward around the spatial singularity that had expanded to its limit had formed sudden waves on the material level.

The sunset sea, which was calm just now, changed its face in an instant like the most ferocious Kul Tiran shrew. Amid the dark sky and howling wind, the ups and downs of the waves hit the sea in all directions ruthlessly and chaotically.

They seemed to come with the wrath of the Poseidon, howling and grabbing the heavy naval flagship as easily as a child's toy and then slamming it down.

With a loud "boom", a fourth-class warship cruising on both sides of the flagship of the Lordaeron fleet was shattered into pieces in the impact of the first huge wave and was swept under the waves, and the roaring seawater also took the opportunity to roll up On the deck, more than a dozen sailors who were caught off guard were rolled down at once, and the powder barrels and naval guns placed on the deck were also pushed into the water, causing the side strings of the deck to become "clean" at once.

Desktop cleaning master belongs to you.

"What exactly is going on!"

There was a sudden wailing on the violently shaking flagship, but then a powerful roar rang out among the screams. Marshal Barry Westwin, the old man holding the naval command knife, commanded from the command under the protection of several of his guards. room and strode out.

As expected of a veteran who has lived on the ship all his life, the old marshal still feels like walking on flat ground while walking on the deck washed by the sea, even though the ship may capsize at any time.

He yelled and kicked a panicked sailor captain on the butt, telling the latter to return to his post and assemble the sailors who were like headless flies.

Even the loud sound of the waves hitting the hull couldn't suppress the old man's roar, but his scolding was indeed effective.

Although the power of natural changes cannot be resisted by ordinary people, under the old marshal's scolding and fists, the already chaotic deck miraculously restored some order after a few minutes.

"It's useless, Your Excellency Marshal, let the soldiers prepare to teleport."

When the old marshal frowned, looked at the sea that suddenly changed in front of him, and tried to use the thinking of an old navy to figure out why the weather in the frozen sea changed so drastically, the tired voice of Archmage Modera spoke to the old marshal. sounded behind the marshal.

She did not try to explain to an old navy and veteran soldier the reasons and principles of what happened before her, but said directly:

"Don't bring anything you don't need to carry, and don't try to save the warship. It's unnecessary to think about the course of the war now.

I don't know what those pirates did on their island, but I think the spell casters who can see this scene now, even the apprentices, can understand the situation we are facing now.

This will be one of the most terrifying magical disasters that has occurred in this world since the opening of the Dark Portal. If we are unlucky, the entire fleet may be buried with the collapse of Northrend. "

The Archmage sighed. She looked ahead at the spatial singularity that had stopped expanding in the dark and irresistible waves. She gritted her teeth and whispered:

"I really can't imagine what kind of power can cause such an exaggerated spatial distortion in such a short period of time? I have only seen such a doomsday scene in the magic handbook left by Ms. Aegwin.

I don’t think it was the North Sea pirates who shaped all of this. In previous contacts, Dalaran made a comprehensive assessment of their magic level. Except for the hidden warlocks sent by Narthalas Academy, this group of The magic mastered by pirates is at the level of dark wizards in the countryside.

There must be someone else involved in this war just today.

But as a spell caster, it's not bad to be able to see such a wonder before death. "

"Hey, Archmage! From what you say, it seems like we are in for a big disaster, but you should at least tell me clearly what kind of trouble we are facing now?"

Lady Modera's soliloquy gave Field Marshal Barley Westwin a headache.

He could see that the Archmage, whom he had known for more than ten years and had always been so sensible that he admired, was on the verge of collapse, but he was not the kind of fool or coward who would surrender to fate.

Even if he dies, he must die clearly.

So the old marshal looked distressedly at the warships and soldiers under his command being tossed around by the waves like children's toys on the sea. He grabbed the archmage's wrist and shouted:

"At least tell me who's attacking us?"

"It's space, it's this world."

Modera shook her head and explained as concisely as possible amidst the roar of the waves and sea breeze:

"You can understand a huge space distortion as a dwarf bomb that can blow up a land as large as Lordaeron in an instant. It suddenly appeared in the direction of the pirates' rogue port.

No one knows how it appeared, but it has now completed tearing and devouring the surrounding space, and has entered the irreversible second stage, which is the process of internal collapse.

This process will be completed within a few minutes. When the energy is released at the singularity, it will be accompanied by the explosion of a huge amount of violent magic. The waves in front of you are just an appetizer, Marshal.

The big one is coming soon. "

The Archmage said in a deep voice:

"According to my calculations, the explosion of this singularity is likely to shatter the continent of Northrend, at least the continental mass of Howling Fjord. No one can survive such a disaster.

But now the collapse of the spatial singularity will temporarily restore order to space, and we will teleport you and your soldiers out within minutes.

I cannot guarantee the effect of teleportation, but I will try my best to send you to a safe area as far away as possible. "

"Can you attack that damn magic bomb?"

The old marshal was indeed an old soldier, and his first reaction was always to attack. He asked loudly, and the archmage shook his head and said:

"It's impossible. I can answer this question by thinking on my heels. Unless the hole disappears as suddenly as it appears, there is no way it can be done with its current energy intensity, right?"

"What's wrong?"

The archmage suddenly stopped mid-sentence, which surprised the old marshal.

It was also at this moment that the violent wind and waves that had caused a stir just now suddenly disappeared as if by magic.

Everything goes quiet.

The violent sea shrew instantly returned to the posture of a gentle lady under the sunset. This situation of changing the world in an instant made everyone fall into a daze.

The old marshal looked at the wide-eyed Archmage Modera beside him. The latter hesitated for several seconds before whispering: |

"Maybe I need to rethink my heels.

That space aberration that would kill us all, along with the fleet, suddenly disappeared, as if it had never appeared.

Damn it!

This is not in line with the basic principles of teleportation magic at all. I knew that when I was an apprentice, I was right to question the 'three principles of teleportation' taught by my mentor.

That stuff is not a golden rule at all."

Seeing that the Archmage had entered the complaining mode, the old marshal rolled his eyes.

He knew that the crisis had passed. Looking at the calm sea in front of him, the feeling of impending disaster in Marshal Weiswein's heart still did not dissipate.

He glanced at the scattered fleets on the surrounding sea that were hit by the waves. Every ship was seizing the time to search for the injured and salvage supplies in the sea.

Because the storm lasts only a short time.

Not even a minute, so the damage to the fleet was actually very slight.

"Send a transport boat! Bring the Marines! Follow me to the island immediately!"

After thinking for a few minutes, Marshal Barry Westwin made a decision. He knew that he could not hesitate any longer, so he immediately made a bold decision.

Modera had told him that a large-scale teleportation operation had occurred on the island, which made the old marshal feel that the North Sea pirates who had been surrounded by him must have done something wrong again.

They might have escaped.

Damn it!

The cooked duck actually flew away, which filled the old marshal's heart with a sense of military loss.

He had to go to the island himself, he had to confirm the disappointing outcome with his own eyes.

Half an hour later, a commando consisting of six fourth-class warships sailed into the dead offshore dock of Rogue Port with a vigilant attitude.

The sailors and commanders on the ship looked at the empty bay in front of them with dull expressions. What on earth is going on? This morning they confirmed again and again that this bay was full of pirate ships!

But now there is nothing here.

Those pirates used magic tricks to escape! Those proud elves clearly promised that they would prevent all hostile teleportation magic from taking effect on this sea.

But they failed to do what they promised.

Damn it!

Magic is really unreliable!

"No! Look, there's something else on the dock!"

Just when everyone was disappointed, a Marine commander who was a hunter by profession released his falcon. With the help of the super reconnaissance power brought by the Eye of the Beast, he quickly discovered something was wrong on the dock.

A few minutes later, the first group of Marines rushed onto the dock pier of the deadly silent Rogue Harbor in a small boat, and they were immediately shocked by the scene in front of them.

One by one, the "fresh" pirate corpses were hung on the deserted pier, and a disgusting mountain of corpses was piled on the outermost platform. Those bastards also had the mentality of garbage classification to put their heads and Bodies are stacked separately.

But that's not the point.

The emphasis is on quantity.

There are too many pirates who have been hanged or hacked to death here, more than a thousand of them, and they did not die at the hands of foreign enemies, they were killed by their own people.

"Are they crazy? Massacred their own people?"

After hearing about the situation on the shore, Barry Westwin, who decided to land on the island in person, soon saw with his own eyes the pier pier filled with corpses. Even though the old marshal had seen a lot in his life, he was a little confused by the scene in front of him.

He had never seen this strange method of killing nearly one-twentieth of his own people before starting a battle, but soon, Old Barry thought of a possibility. He looked back at the Archmage who followed him ashore. Modera.

He said:

"Did they use these more than a thousand lives to make evil sacrifices to bring them and their ship out of despair? I heard that an evil god who claimed to be the 'Pirate God' just appeared in Zul'Drak not long ago Yes, could it be related to those dark evil things?"

"No, this is not a sacrifice."

The Archmage, who was very familiar with magic knowledge, immediately denied this guess. She covered her nose and looked at the dead dock in front of her, which was like a hell on earth, and said:

"This is an ordinary massacre. It should be carried out by the pirates to boost morale. Wait, do you feel it? This wind, this weird cold wind.

wrong!

There are other people on the island!

Danger!

Escape! "

Modera looked at the corpse in front of her, feeling the weird cold wind around her and the deserted island. She also thought of a possibility, and immediately grabbed the old marshal's hand and took him away.

However, it was too late.

With a loud "boom", a terrifying behemoth flipped out from under the beach like magic. On the head of the giant frost bug, stood a familiar figure that made the Archmage look full of despair.

"Well, my Admiral."

His Majesty the Lich King looked at Marshal Barley Westwin. He raised Frostmourne in his hand and whispered:

"You've finally come to fulfill your duties."

"That's great. It's worth waiting here for so long. Come on, Weiswein. I need you. The natural disasters need you."