Stratholme God

   Chapter 313 Dai Lin's Foreboding (4 more)

   (monthly pass 32/75)

——

   Ner'zhul's wanton and arrogant laughter echoed throughout the entire spiritual circuit, and Kel'Thuzad shrank his spirit into a small ball, humbly sharing the joy of his master.

   This is a grand goal, the only way to immortality and immortality.

   Terenas? The poor old man still didn't know that he was just a **** that could be thrown away at any time.

  Thinking of this, the corners of Kel'Thuzad's mouth rose wildly, showing a mocking expression.

   Of course, he who was projected into Ner'zhul's spiritual world was still that devout servant. His disrespect was aimed only at Terenas.

   "Your Majesty, the great Lich King, please note that if Macdonald Stratholme does not die for a day, Arthas will not be convinced even if he becomes a death knight. Macdonald is the last light of hope for Arthas."

"The Light of Hope?" Ner'zhul said contemptuously: "It's fine, as long as you gather enough souls, Frostmourne is invincible! When Arthas killed him, he swore to repay him at the cost of his life. The climax of this ethical drama!"

   "Your Majesty, your wisdom is unparalleled in the world!" Kel'Thuzad flattered.

"Of course!" Perhaps the more repressed, the stronger the rebound. Without Kil'jaeden's pointing, Ner'zhul's ambitions began to sprout: "Yes, you should almost withdraw. Stratholme seems to have mastered it. You don't need to take risks for the technique of dispelling the soul, just let those dread lords who get in your way die for you."

"clear!"

   cut off his spiritual connection with Kel'Thuzad, and Ner'zhul immediately contacted one of the people who got in the way.

   "Mal'Ganis!"

   "Waiting for your order, my lord."

   Appeared in Ner'zhul's Spiritual Sea, a demonic creature with huge purple bat wings and horns on its head.

  Dreadlords - are intelligent and cunning demons, they are the intelligence officers and interrogators of the Burning Legion, one of the high-ranking demons of the Burning Legion. Serve as a secret police officer or interrogator in the Burning Legion.

   They are a race of villains without any compassion, they live off the energies of mortal creatures. They use intimidation or deceit to intimidate each other's brothers and sisters, and then let the whole world fall under their dark influence. They have conquered many worlds by controlling the minds of their enemies and turning them into their minions.

   "How are you getting ready?"

   "Very well, at 12 o'clock tonight, 70% of the palace guards, servants and maids will be transformed into undead."

   "Very good, leave some living people to pretend to be. Just wait for tomorrow's throne meeting and start it together!"

"clear."

   cut off the psychic connection again, and Ner'zhul found himself feeling... cold.

right!

   In the spiritual world, he is the omnipotent Lich King.

   In reality, he's just a tool that Kil'jaeden threw into the snowfields of Northrend at will!

  Sorry, the word [person] has to be removed!

   The huge gap between 'all-powerful' and 'can't do anything' made him feel very uncomfortable.

   The despair and pain of being imprisoned in the ice crystal skeleton drove Ner'zhul crazy.

   "It's that damned McDonald's who saw through my plan! Otherwise I could just season Alsace and turn it into the flesh that suits me best!"

   "If he hadn't made the alliance so strong, if Orgrim's trash was stronger and destroyed the alliance, how could there be so much trouble! No!"

   "Damn! Damn! Damn!"

   "Endure! Endure! Yes! I will endure. Until Arthas inserts [Frostmourne] into McDonald's chest with his own hands."

   "Hahaha! That's the grandest delicacy!"

  Ner'zhul was talking to himself a little incoherently. This was already the best way for him to stay sane, otherwise he would have been completely broken down by Kil'jaeden's soul abuse.

   Time flies by minute by minute.

  The beautiful palace of Lordaeron is undergoing changes that are unknown to outsiders.

  Uther felt a little puzzled, and he suddenly received an order from above to let him look at the door.

   Ever since he entered the palace, he has not been welcomed by his colleagues. No way, among all the captains of the guard, he is the only civilian, and the other captains are also jazz no matter how bad they are.

  Uther stood by his beliefs.

   He silently accepted all of this, and whenever he had the opportunity, he patiently and tirelessly explained the morality of the Holy Light to every colleague who spoke ill of him, even if the other party was unwilling to listen.

  Today is going to hold a throne meeting. Since early in the morning, Uther has been watching the gorgeous carriages at the gate.

   Honestly, this meeting is actually not very high-level.

  All countries were busy rebuilding after the war. Among the seven human kingdoms, only Kul Tiras and Lordaeron were attended by the king.

  The Kingdom of Stormwind has sent Gavinrad* Doom as a representative.

  Derandon, a member of the Kirin Tor Council of Six, was sent from Dalaran.

   Alterac is represented by Countess Katrina Prestor.

  Stormgard, due to the disappearance of the acting king Danas Trollbane, was represented by the currently highest-ranking Admiral Oslet (domestic rank).

   As for Gilneas, no one was sent at all.

  Among the many dukes, Macdonald had died, Lao Mo and Abidis were still guarding the Watch Castle, and only the Duke of Lordamere had come.

   As for the marquis and earls, there were still a dozen or so present.

   Uther meticulously saluted the carriages of every great man.

When he came to the main hall, King Daelin was stunned, and his personal guard shouted at the Lordaeron Ritual in front of him: "What? Do you know who this person is next to me? Even His Majesty Proudmoore is not allowed to bring weapons. get inside?"

The ceremonial official was sweating coldly, nodded and bowed repeatedly, "I'm really sorry. There are several Your Excellencies who insist that their dead ancestors still have supreme glory, and their opposition is quite fierce. It is held in a civilized way to avoid unnecessary harm caused by excessive actions. His Majesty Menethil ordered that all attendees are prohibited from bringing weapons."

   Daelin sighed, of course he understood the power of tradition: "Forget it, as Lordaeron's most loyal ally, I have no reason not to believe in Lordaeron's royal guard."

   Dailin handed over his machete and musket, and only wore a ceremonial sword to enter.

  Yijian is just pretending, the body of the sword is as thin as paper, and the blade is not even opened.

After    went in, Daelin found that he was the second last to arrive.

   Of course, it was customary for Terenas to appear last as the leader of the alliance.

   After Dai Lin sat down, the door of the throne room was closed, the magic circle was opened as usual, and the ceremonial official called the name.

   "The gods and gods testify—great..." The ceremonial official opened his mouth and said a string of titles: "His Majesty Terenas Menethil is here—"

   For some reason, Daelin had an extremely ominous premonition the moment he saw Terenas' pale, bloodless face.

   (end of this chapter)