Thaurissan laughed loudly, slammed the warhammer in his hand on the ground, and said angrily:
"My wife Moira, she still has my son in her belly. She is in Ironforge now. I don't know what order Tyrion gave you, but I can probably guess. What I want is very simple.
...Let her go! Send her to Eagle Nest Mountain safely. As long as you nod, 30 black iron drilling machines will be temporarily loaned to you!"
Thaurissan was wearing a full-face helmet and could not see even a trace of his expression, but Grokush could still feel the anxiety and desire of the black iron dwarf in front of him. For a dead man, this was already very painful.
Extreme emotions.
But the orc did not agree immediately, but asked:
"You should know that even if you don't come to me, I will not kill women and children at will... Your Majesty does not like that kind of meaningless killing."
"Don't mention Tyrion!"
Thaurissan's tone was full of disgust:
"I don't trust that bastard!"
"Then you trust me?"
Grokush snorted: "You have to know that more people have died in my hands than in Tyrion's hands..."
"I trust you because I heard the conversation between you and your son in the ruins of Blackrock Tower... Red Blackhand, the chief who should have died, was returned to Draenor by you, and his
Paralyzed brother... You are a dead person like me, but you also have things to care about like me. We both have soft corners in our hearts, but other people... Bah, they don't!"
Thaurissan waved his warhammer anxiously, staring at Grokush:
"I don't want my Moira to live under Tyrion's gaze. They deserve to be free, and I have paid the price! So, will you agree or not?"
"Actually, every death lord has a soft corner in his heart, including Tyrion... You just didn't see it, Thaurissan, I will promise you, but I also hope... you won't be right
This system has lost confidence. You have to know that Tyrion's choice of Death Lord was not just based on strength."
"I don't care! I don't want to serve him either!"
Thaurissan turned and left with a ferocious smile, his roaring voice echoing in the darkness:
"You helped me, you are my friend, but remember, Grokush, I am one of you, that's true, but don't ever expect me to help anyone else...if you have the chance
, I will drag you to death together!"
Looking at Thaurissan's leaving figure, the old orc frowned, but soon his face returned to its previous indifference. He turned to look at the passages behind him that were quickly widened by Gronn and the orcs. He lowered his head.
Voice said:
"You don't understand yet, but it doesn't matter. One day, you will understand."
"The strongest hope is always born in the darkest despair. Our cause... is just."
————————————————————
"The dwarf steam tank troops will be the vanguard! I will lead the human knights to outflank the left wing, and the elf rangers will be the mobile force. In addition, Master Rommath, when necessary, I need you to use a crisp and large-scale teleportation technique to transport the enemy to the enemy."
We are sent into the enemy's... base camp."
While arranging his armor and weapons, Danas said to the commanders around him:
"This is not suicide. Everyone, the soldiers who escaped from Stormwind City gave us new tactical ideas. Today's battle is used to verify this idea. Compared with the number of people? We are definitely at a disadvantage, but we and the undead
The only difference is that we can think, but those lower-level undead cannot, they are like puppets being manipulated!"
"Shua"
The sharp long sword cut through the air and made a whistling sound. Danas raised his head and looked at the falling snow in the sky of the valley in the distance. He took a deep breath. In the cold environment, the white mist floated in the air.
With.
"Cut off the brain that directs them, and they will fall into chaos... That's our chance!"
"Well, the typical beheading tactic is indeed very suitable in this case."
Elf Archmage Rommath reached out and brushed his long hair. The Archmage robe he was wearing looked like a phoenix fire against the white snow. He held the gorgeous staff in his hand and nodded at Danas.
nodded:
"Of course, I will follow you. In addition, I want to know, who will be the sharp knife that pierces the heart of the undead?"
"I!"
A low voice sounded behind everyone. King Magni turned around and saw a tall knight walking out of the military camp behind him. He was wearing silver-white armor and carrying a heavy weapon blessed by the Holy Light.
Warhammer wears a full-face helmet, and between the cracks in the Y-shaped helmet, a pair of suggestive blue eyes can be seen.
As he advanced, the runes of the Holy Light danced on his armor, showing the paladin's strong affinity with the Holy Light.
When he saw him, King Magni exclaimed:
"The forge is up! Dathrohan, why are you here?"
"And me, brother."
In the military camp behind Saidan Dathrohan, the first generation of great knights, another well-armed short man jumped out. He was wearing bronze armor, holding a warhammer and a battleaxe, and had a golden beard that was clearly made of iron.
The most powerful dwarf warrior in the Hearth...King Magni's younger brother, Muradin Bronzebeard.
"I'm sorry that we hid this from you, Your Majesty Magni."
The great knight said to everyone in a low voice:
"The disaster in Stormwind City taught us a lot. No one knows whether there are agents serving the undead in Ironforge. Those who are dissatisfied with the existing order will always be attracted by pure malice, so we must
Keep a low profile."
Everyone nodded and expressed their understanding. Everyone knew what happened to the Kingdom of Stormwind. Most of the reason was because the undead that attacked were indeed powerful, but the other half was because Tyrion had prepared a plan in Stormwind City in advance.
There were too many nets. In fact, the night the city was broken was just the final blow, and the camel of Stormwind Kingdom had already been overwhelmed by Tyrion's endless conspiracies long before it was attacked.
"Dathrohan and I, along with the Holy Knights of the Silver Hand, will follow General Danas to execute the beheading tactic."
Muradin placed his heavy battle ax on the table in front of him, took out a wine flask, poured wine into his mouth, wiped his beard, and said boldly:
"No matter who is hiding in that fortress, we will kill him without mercy. If you dare to covet our Ironforge, you will definitely pay the price!"
"Well said, brother!"
The dwarf king looked at the warlike commanders in front of him. In the camp of the dwarf town of Karanos, he looked back at Ironforge, which was like a silent behemoth in the snow-capped mountains. The most powerful warrior of the dwarves had already
Everyone boarded the chariot, the gryphon knights kept taking off, the aircraft driven by the dwarves, the roar of machines and weapons, and the burning smell of hot oil, all of which filled King Magni's heart with pride and courage.
"No one can defeat us on our soil...for Khaz Modan!"
He roared and raised his golden warhammer. Behind him, the dwarf soldiers roared in unison:
"For Khaz Modan!"
The dwarf king picked up his golden goblet, drank the wine in one gulp, and then jumped onto the steam tank decorated with a ram's head. The warhammer in his hand pointed due south:
"Dwarves, follow me to meet the enemy and move forward!"
"Rumble"
The scene of nearly a hundred steam tanks starting up at the same time is shocking. When the black smoke from burning oil floats in the sky of the snow-capped mountains, the bell that is about to begin the war that will determine the ownership of the land beneath our feet is finally heard by the dwarves themselves.
Ring.
———————————————
"The dwarves set off, and with them came humans and elves."
Yrel stood in the hall of the Fortress of the Undead, reporting the battle situation to the slender figure sitting in front of him:
"They mobilized the entire army that Dun Morogh could mobilize. It seems that they intend to wipe out this camp in one fell swoop, and then focus on the battlefield in the deserted land."
"Well, it's a very decisive strategy. I have never fought against Magni. I don't know if this strategy came from him, but there is no doubt that it is in line with the temper of the dwarves."
Tyrion was looking through a letter in the dim firelight. The children's childish blessings were written on the letter paper in crooked Salas language. This was the letter that the crow had just brought him from Draenor. It came from there.
several children.
"Look, Dornan told me that Anduin is beginning to like his new home, and her gentle Aunt Tiffany, who likes her very much... Children's happiness is always so simple, Yrel, these
Humans and dwarves were once children. Tell me, why do innocent and lovely children become so stubborn, so irritable, and so...stupid when they grow up?"
Yirel thought for a while and replied:
"They lack correct guidance, I think that's probably the reason."
"Well, that makes sense."
Tyrion nodded, folded up the letter in Tyrion's hand, and handed it to the candle at hand, watching it being ignited by the flame. The flame quickly licked the letter in Tyrion's hand until the flame burned his
Fingertips, then extinguished by the cold.
When the last ashes were scattered on the ground, Tyrion stood up, moved his shoulders, and let Yrel put on the scarlet cloak, the dark beast-like shoulder armor, and finally the blue
Colored thorns ring.
"I always spend a lot of time immersed in this soft emotion that only living people have. Sometimes, it even makes me forget that I am a dead person. I lack emotions, and I should also lack emotions."
Tyrion walked up the stairs of the fortress step by step. At the end of the stairs was a throne made of ice. He sat on it and looked at Yrel below, as well as Rogelio and Crow who arrived at an unknown time.
, he said softly to his subordinates:
"Always surround yourself with soft things. This is not life, it is death."
"One day, these soft things will climb up from your back, strangle your throat like the devil's claws, and suffocate you to death... But fortunately, we are already dead, and we will not do it again.
Die once."
"I know, Lumi, and many people are complaining. We can completely crush them all with our irresistible numerical advantage and build our dark empire on this land, using blood and bones as the foundation. I know
, the method I am adopting now is very unwise, I always indulge my enemies again and again, and I always try to stop at the bottom of things again and again.”
As if having a heart-to-heart conversation, Tyrion said to the three high-level undead in front of him:
"But it's fun, isn't it?"
"Look, watching the enemy bleed in front of us... it's like a tug-of-war, and we know they will lose."
"But that's not the point. The point is that you are all Death Lords that I personally selected. You should understand what I want to do, the things we want to do...the things that are just, great, and must be done by someone.
, we never came here to destroy this world."
There was a hint of darkness in the ice blue eyes of the Dark Blade King, and he continued:
"When encountering a little bit of trouble, many living beings will say that they have had enough! They have never experienced despair, no bitter despair, how can they experience the sweetness of hope! They are wrong, and they are so wrong. I
, and now I’m sitting here, I’m the one who can decide if they’ve had enough!”
"My lords, it's time for the arrogant living people to wake up and tell them who we are."
Tyrion was sitting on the throne. His eyes suddenly raised and looked outside the dim fortress. He seemed to hear some kind of voice:
"They are coming, I heard the cry of killing, I heard the rhythm of war... Don't worry, let them enjoy the sweet victory first..."
The Dark Blade King stretched out his finger and made a silent gesture to the lords in front of him:
"We will wait for them here...quietly, don't make a sound..."
