14. The spread of fear---the brothers of Wei [27/30]
Tirisfal is the capital of the Kingdom of Lordaeron and one of the fertile plains in northern Xinjiang.
The Tirisfal Mountains on the edge of the region separate the land of Northern Xinjiang from the cold North Sea. This mountain range can be regarded as an extension of the Alterac Mountains in the northwest, but the environment inside the mountains is far less than that of Alterac.
The mountains are so glorious. In fact, there are many stories related to dark creatures circulating in this edge area.
Even in the Kingdom of Lordaeron, the Tirisfal Mountains area is an out-and-out "barbaric" land. The people who rule here are the Amanthagard family, who manage some towns in the area at the foot of the mountain.
He is also one of the most powerful nobles in the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Of course, he is incomparable to the great nobles of the Mograine family.
A town dubbed "Amanthagad's Mill" is the closest foothold to the remote mountains of Tirisfal. It is so remote that even when the orcs attacked Lordaeron, the residents living here were not affected.
And now, a special adventure team has arrived.
It was an adventure team led by a spirited old man, with several heroic young men, and the most peculiar thing was that there was a blond child following them. He was riding a horse in a decent manner and seemed to be interested in everything.
Very curious.
"Okay, this is the last supply point we can find before entering the mountain."
Lothar stood at the entrance of the village, and some children hid behind the fence to secretly observe them. The old marshal did not pay attention, but assigned their respective tasks to the princes behind him.
"Varian, before we set off, our water bladders must be filled with water, as well as food and supplies. This is all left to you. Garin will hire a guide, preferably an old man who has been to the deepest part of the valley.
Hunter, Derek, take stock of our weapons, go to the blacksmith to repair them if you need any, and finally, Liam, you have to take care of our horses."
"We'll leave in 2 hours, rest now, kids."
"no problem!"
The little king of Stormwind City patted his chest, grabbed a few water bags and walked into the village. Alsace, who was wearing a small leather armor and a short sword, walked up to Lothar, grabbed the corner of his clothes, and lowered his head.
Voice asked:
"What about me? Marshal, what do I do?"
Lothar smiled and bent down, scratching the bridge of the 8-year-old member's nose:
"Call me Lothar or Captain, kid, your mission is also very important. Look, I put all our packages here. You must protect them before I come back, okay?"
"Of course! Marshal."
Little Alsace puffed up his chest and tried to make himself look more reliable, but soon he noticed his mistake and hurriedly argued:
"Uh, I mean, you can trust me, Captain Lothar!"
"I trust you."
Lothar reached out and brushed Alsace's hair, then turned around and walked outside the village. On a hillside, he found a mage who was using magic to explore the terrain ahead...a man who looked almost as old as him.
The mage was wearing a simple white robe, probably to hide his whereabouts. He didn't even take the original luxurious ice staff, and replaced it with the most ordinary pine staff.
"I heard that Dalaran has been having trouble with Lordaeron recently?"
Lothar stood behind the old mage and whispered: "I heard too many complaints from His Majesty Jean about King Terenas in Gilneas. I should say that the mages have better etiquette, or do you think that is not really making things difficult?
?”
"So what you really want to ask is Dalaran's attitude towards the Arathor Empire, right? Old friend."
The old mage ended his observation. He turned his head, his white beard flying in the wind. He calmly looked at Lothar behind him and said in a magnetic voice:
"Although Dalaran is also one of the Seven Kingdoms, our form of existence has been a city-state system from the moment magic spread into human civilization. Mages do not care about worldly power disputes, but His Majesty Menethil has been
It makes me deeply regretful that I am trying to strengthen Lordaeron's control over Dalaran."
"Free thoughts should not be restricted."
The old mage shrugged:
"Before we left with you, the six-person council specifically discussed this matter, and the answer we gave was... We can give up the power of the elector. If we can, we never want to get involved in the power struggle within the empire.
In return, Dalaran's current and future development should not be restricted, nor do we want to become a war machine for the Arathor Empire in the future, erasing all free thoughts."
Lothar nodded. He took a step forward, stood beside the old mage, looked at the dark mountains in front of him, and said softly:
"I have never wanted to be the emperor of mankind. Even if I am standing here, only one step away from the token left by my ancestors, I have never thought about that luxurious crown, but I can promise you, Antonidas
Old friend, everything you need will be realized in the empire. In fact, magic and faith will become the two pillars that support the continuous advancement of the empire in the future. Your existence is very important."
"That's good."
The old mage nodded:
"Then Dalaran is on your side. In addition, according to the direction you gave me, between the mountains and streams, I only saw a pool of pitch-black lake water. Could you tell me?
I, the last tomb of your ancestor is under that lake, right?"
"That's it."
Lothar nodded helplessly:
"Believe me, Emperor Thoradin was not buried there voluntarily. There are darker things under the lake. This is why I invited you here. When we fight, please protect the prince.
We, if there are casualties, it will be an outright disaster."
These words made the Archmage frown:
"If that's the case, you should have reminded me when we set off so that I could bring some protective scrolls. If I was alone..."
"You're not the only one!"
Lothar took out a pocket watch from his arms, put it in front of his eyes, looked at it, and then pointed to the sky in the distance. There, in the dusk of the evening, a golden spaceship slowly broke through the clouds and appeared in front of the two of them.
In front of you:
"I also invited the Draenei's prophet Velen and His Majesty Fa'ao... The prophet had a glimpse of some dark future, and he was very interested in this operation, while His Majesty Fa'ao was interested in the future of the Arathor Empire.
Each religion and belief has its own complete plan. Well, maybe the future empire should be called the "Holy Arathor Empire."
Looking at the exotic spacecraft landing slowly at the edge of the forest in the distance, the Archmage's eyes flashed with great interest. He smiled meaningfully and said:
"It seems that you are much more difficult to deal with than King Terenas imagined. In the corner that he did not see, you have united almost all the forces that can be united. He is destined to lose."
There was a tired and boring light in Lothar's eyes. He waved to the young people gathered behind him, and then said to the old mage:
"Believe me, if I could, I would never use such a tough method. I don't want to affect Lordaeron's attitude for this, but King Terenas has not seen everything I have seen, so
If he has his own way, then...I have to do something I don't want to do."
"So, about those orcs..."
The Archmage asked the last question, but before he could finish the question, the old marshal waved his hand to stop him.
"I did meet with a moderate orc, and we talked about many things, but believe me, the outbreak of this unexpected war has nothing to do with me. You know me, even if there is a just and honorable
purpose, and I will not betray the interests of the alliance."
"But...the war between humans and orcs has come to an end."
Lothar carried a heavy sword and walked toward the distant forest. As he walked, he whispered:
"This kind of meaningless internal friction will send us to hell sooner or later."
"Internal friction?"
The old mage savored this strange wording. He looked at Lothar's back: "If I remember correctly, the orcs are invaders from another world, right? In the last war, you personally led the warriors to defeat them. You guys
Shouldn’t we hate each other?”
This sentence made Lothar stop. He looked back at Antonidas and said calmly:
"No, you don't understand yet, old friend, but it doesn't matter. You will understand soon. A war with the galaxy and all realms as the battlefield is about to begin in our world. This war will completely destroy us.
All this foolish understanding of race and justice, and by that time you will know that all the strife and hatred that is going on in the world right now is meaningless and is shameful internal friction, without a doubt.”
"If we can get through it, we are still qualified to talk about the future. If we can't get through it, then everything is over."
——————————————————————————————-
"Ouch!!"
A long wolf howl echoed back and forth in the dark silver pine forest, like a horn being blown, or like some disaster box being opened. In short, the next moment, wolves were running wildly in the forest.
He also responded with the same wolf howl.
The roars that signified the incoming wolves came one after another, and the strange shadows shining in the darkness also made the elite soldiers of the Gilnean Gray Wolf Brigade subconsciously tighten their weapons.
If before they came, the order they received was just to exterminate the wolves in the forest, then now they should know that the opponents they have to deal with this time are probably not just cunning forest wolves.
"Hold on!"
Lord Darius Crowley, who was riding on a mighty Northland war horse, was wearing sturdy armor and holding a long-handled battle ax that emitted cold light. He pulled the reins of the horse, and the war horse under his crotch smelled it.
The aura of the wolves seemed somewhat panicked, but the northern lord was not worried that he would lose, because behind him were all the armies from the entire northern Gilneas.
There are more than 4,000 veterans, plus the same number of recruits, as well as some old hunters who were recruited. Who is his opponent?
"Humph, they are just a group of lycanthropic patients who escaped into the forest. The muskets in your hands can break their hearts from 150 meters away, and the wolf cubs following them are not to be feared!"
The northern lord shouted to encourage his soldiers:
"Just a fire can scare them away! We can't let these lycanthropic patients infect more people. Soldiers, think about your relatives! We can't retreat!"
"Ho ho ho"
The lord's words also made the nervous soldiers' morale rise again. This was a battle within the country. Just like Darius said, their relatives were behind them and they could not and could not retreat.
Soon, the first torch was thrown into the forest, followed by the arrows fired by the archers into the forest. Soon, the scorching flames ignited the forest in front of the soldiers' position. They were using this method to drive away the wolves.
, but just as the flames began to burn, the first huge black wolf jumped out of the flames. It roared and rushed towards the soldiers' position, and the flames stretched its shadow on the dim ground.
"Bang"
Lord Crero coldly pulled the trigger of the musket in his hand, and a splash of blood burst out from the neck of the black wolf. Its body was like an invisible fist smashed into it, and the entire wolf body was covered in blood.
They stumbled out, but this was just the beginning. The next moment, densely packed wolves rushed out of the flames, like a black tide, rushing towards the soldiers' positions from all directions.
Their green eyes shone brightly in the forest and flames, and their radiance, like points of light in the stars, frightened the timid recruits.
"Fire! Fire!"
Under the orders of the commanders, the soldiers began to fight back with muskets in their hands. Because Gilneas's business was developed and the country's soldiers were extremely well-equipped, muskets, a weapon invented by the dwarves, had become popular in the army.
"Bang bang bang bang"
The pungent smell of gunpowder accompanied by deep smoke exploded in front of the position, blocking the first wave of attacking wolves from 150 meters away. However, the wolves persevered and were as crazy as if they were driven by some higher-level being.
holding them.
"Left wing! Left wing! Those lycanthropic patients are coming!"
The voice of the messenger made Lord Crowley, who was riding on the war horse, immediately turn around and saw the tall figure rushing out of the forest on the left wing, the group of infected lycanthropic patients. They still maintained their human form, but generally they had
They turned into ferocious and twisted monsters similar to werewolves in fairy tales. There were hundreds of them, like nightmares running wildly in the darkness.
And leading them to jump in the forest, charging forward with four hooves, was a tall werewolf wearing black leather armor and a ferocious helmet. Its green eyes were shining with deadly light. As he danced with his hands,
Sharp claws made of steel clung to the claws, like daggers flashing in the dark.
"Ouch! You guys actually challenged the Dark Blade Knights!"
"bass"
As he waved his claws, the three soldiers were cut into several pieces by his claws before they even had time to reload. Behind him, wild werewolves jumped into the soldiers' position crazily and started a bloody battle.
Massacre, smelly blood splashed in the air, the werewolf looked at Lord Crowley with the eyes of a predator, and he smiled ferociously:
"Patient? You underestimate me, a small human being!"
"My name is Wolf, Wild Shadow of Tyrion!"
"bass"
While he was talking, the two soldiers who rushed towards him were decapitated by sharp claws. The werewolf held up the blood-stained heads and threw the two heads into the soldiers' position as if to demonstrate.
"Oh~ I accidentally said the boss's name again..."
The tall werewolf patted his head in annoyance, but the next moment, his blood-red eyes stared at the northern lord again:
"It doesn't matter...as long as I kill you all, no one will know..."