The world of Azeroth is vast, and there is a wide ocean gap between the three continents. For a long time before the rise of civilization, this gap was equivalent to a world gap that could never be crossed, trapping primitive life in each other.
In different fields, there is no overlap with each other.
Without the threat of war, each civilization can thrive in its own cradle.
But even in this era, from the Borean Tundra to Stormwind City in the Eastern Continent, one has to cross the cold sea vertically, facing pirates wandering on the North Sea, dangerous undersea creatures, and of course, gods who are as moody as the gods.
of the ocean itself.
For any mortal in this era, this can be called a distant and adventurous journey, but in fact, 90% of the lives in this world will not have the opportunity to complete it in their short life.
Such a long journey.
Mortals are flawed... They always think that they are the core of civilization, but as everyone knows, the behavior patterns of mortals have not changed much over thousands of years.
Arthas, who was determined to sacrifice himself to save himself, did not know that when his adventure began, or even before that, there were some beings who knew his fate and even his ending.
But most of these beings chose to wait and see the changes this mortal would bring, rather than directly and recklessly interfering.
Because in this timeline, the rise of the Dark Blade has changed too many things. Under their interference, the darkness hidden under the world is no longer able to act unscrupulously.
This is undoubtedly a good thing for the order of the entire world, but as we once said, history will not praise what has not happened, so the rise of the Dark Blade is still one of the most terrifying disasters of this era, so
The name of Tyrion, Blade of Dawn, is still the greatest fear floating in the sky of this world.
At this time, the night in Stormwind City was calm. Against the backdrop of the crescent moon, the entire Midnight Garden City seemed very quiet.
The high-ranking knights who originally lived in this city have disappeared. They are either still doing the aftermath work in the war zone in northern Xinjiang, or they have been sent as commanders to the newly established Twilight Federal District or to the soon-to-be-established
In the Swamp of Sorrows area, after the war era of the Southern and Northern Wars came to an end, these dead warriors still had more and more complicated things to do.
And a busy job means far more to the undead than to the living.
In the mansion in the garden area, Lord Darkblade leaned on his chair, his eyes slightly closed, as if he was resting, hibernating or falling asleep, like some physiological cycle that fragile mortals need to maintain their own existence.
, but in fact, the undead does not need to sleep, so he just maintains this posture and tries to relax his consciousness.
On his body, the jumping masses of death energy are repairing the hidden wounds in the Great Lord's body. Wisps of dark light wrap around the cold and silent body, making Tyrion look like a piece of stone that will never melt.
Ice.
"Buzz"
Just like a visitor knocking on the door, a distant consciousness suddenly used a weak but unabashed way of self-existence to stir up a ripple in Tyrion's silent sea of soul, just like a long time no see.
Old friends are saying hello to each other.
"Long time no see, Tyrion."
It was a voice with an old air, and there was undisguised kindness in it, but it did not receive a gentler treatment.
"Velan..."Old Friend"..."
Tyrion's calm spirit just now suddenly started to tumble at this moment. Like an enraged beast, he followed the trajectory left by the consciousness in the distance and smashed back viciously and accurately.
"Bang"
An explosion in his consciousness caused the visitor in the spiritual world to be silent for a moment. When his voice sounded again, it was full of helplessness:
"Please let me finish what I'm saying?"
Faced with the prophet's complaints, Lord Darkblade said nothing. It was not until a few seconds later that his hoarse and gloomy voice sounded again:
"You took the initiative to appear in front of me, does it mean that you have finally made up your mind to change your camp and stand with me? You have to know, Velen, other than that, I have no interest in listening to you, old guy
Talking, those clichés, just thinking about it will make you feel boring.”
"Of course not. I'm here to discuss the pros and cons between the living and the dead. It doesn't have anything to do with the positions of both parties. It's just my status as a former collaborator... I discovered something. I
I feel the need to tell you."
Although the two sides are thousands of miles apart, Velen's voice is projected in Tyrion's mind, and it can still vividly simulate his state of squinting his eyes and speaking slowly, and what Velen said also makes Tyrion
The turbulent waters in Tyrion's mental level became calmer, which seemed to represent the return of his rationality.
"Go ahead. I'm listening, at least now."
"Just now, Tyrion, I once again saw a fragment of the future, which is related to you and your power. Under my gaze, the power of the undead in this world will be divided... one with you.
A challenger with the same power has appeared, and his target is the continent of Northrend. The dormant power that comes from the same source as the Dark Blade is resurrecting, and the dangerous sword holder is approaching the magic blade, although I can't be sure.
He is..."
"That's...Arthas Menethil, right?"
Viren's voice was interrupted by Tyrion. The high lord slowly sat upright from the chair. His slightly closed eyes also opened at this moment. In those ice-blue eyes, wisps of traces were visible to the naked eye.
The cold light is shining.
"The person who appears in the future you saw, you have seen him, you can recognize him, you are trying to hide something from me, Viren, this is not the attitude that a collaborator should have."
"It's not that I'm hiding it, it's just that I can't see clearly the cause of this incident. It seems to have appeared suddenly and very abruptly. This is rarely seen in previous future clips."
Viren said slowly:
"I can't even judge the true extent of it, and my instinct tells me that you should know about this matter. Besides, in your words, I deceived you. What good does it do to me and my people? Don't you
Are you still worried that I will join forces with other leaders to ambush you in Northrend?"
"Well...who knows what you crazy living people will do. Before the war started, there were enough madmen in the human empire. But now, you see, I killed Lothar, and the situation began.
It’s getting worse. You have to understand, prophet, that many of my doubts and hostile behaviors are actually due to my own compulsion.”
Tyrion responded while abruptly changing the subject:
"And, when are you going to return the Angry Heart you took from me to me? Or do I need to go to the Borean Tundra to "get" such a valuable thing in person?"
"I'm sorry, but the anger is not with me."
Viren answered simply:
"Humanity, which has lost its leader, obviously needs that artifact more. With their entreaties, I have handed it over to the most intelligent group of humans. It is one of the artifacts passed down by the Draenei from ancient times. I think I
You have enough power and reason to decide its ownership. It is an owner's thing, Tyrion. Things like that don't belong to whoever picks them up."
"I never knew, Viren, that you had such a sharp tongue."
Tyrion lost interest in the conversation. He leaned on his chair and waved his hands lazily:
"That's it, Prophet. This is the end of the personal communication. Next, the two camps should "talk" in another way. But for the sake of this news, I will say more
I’ll give you some time, and I hope that by that time, you and your people will be ready...and, please remember, my things...are not that easy to get!"
"Wait! Tyrion, there is one more thing we need..."
"Buzz"
After throwing down a sentence with enough weight, before Viren could finish his next sentence, the disturbed Dark Blade Lord waved his finger, like a sharp sword sweeping across, sealing off his will and the sea of mind.
.
After the spiritual contact between the two parties was severed, Tyrion's expression became serious. Although on the surface it seemed that he did not care about Velen's announcement, in fact, Arthas' move to Northrend did indeed
It was beyond his imagination.
Tyrion originally thought that after the world line had reversed to such an alarming degree, Arthas would not make the same mistakes again, but now it seems that in the corner that he did not notice, the Lich King Ner'zhul will still
Focusing on Alsace, the "unfortunate relationship" between the two people was finally established.
"So, Ner'zhul, my friend, what do you want to do?"
Tyrion walked to the window and looked at the deep night outside the window. Thinking of the recent rumors about the power of Northrend, about the movements of the dwarves, Vrykul and dragons, his eyes flickered little by little.
He narrowed his eyes:
"Sure enough, you are not as worry-free as you seem... Well, it's time to go to Northrend."
And at the moment when Lord Darkblade made up his mind, a weak energy wave appeared in the dark night of Stormwind City. The direction of the energy burst made Tyrion's expression change slightly, and the figure of the Lord almost suddenly disappeared into the night.
It was like a bolt of lightning crisscrossing the night.
"I feel the opening of a rift in the world, what's the situation now?"
Tyrion carried the Ashbringer, and he walked into the secret room under the church area in the cold night. Valkyr Agatha and the soul healer Anara were standing nervously next to the soul-gathering coffin.
At Gerry's feet was a black corpse that was rapidly evaporating.
It was a dementor that invaded reality. Tyrion could easily distinguish its twisted joints, its chest torn apart by war spears, the black blood stained on the ground, its claws covered in disgusting mucus, and the
It is humanoid, but only has a few oozing black holes on its face. At this time, it is like a snowman melting rapidly under the sun. After a while, only the solid and cold bricks and stones are left.
Black outline.
These monsters that do not belong to this world will be quickly devoured by the Realm of Death even after death.
"It's just a wandering soul-level dementor. This guy's claws can't even destroy the wood of the soul-gathering coffin, but the appearance of this thing means that the situation is getting worse. Tyrion, the Realm of Death has found Yuna. They
I won’t give up so easily.”
Agatha stretched out his hand and slowly pushed the heavy soul-gathering coffin away. The surface of the wood soaked by the power of the soul was dark. Amidst the low crackling sound, a wisp of black soul power turned into mist and entangled itself.
At the bottom of the wooden coffin in front of the three people, and in the lingering black halo, a little Draenei girl about the same size as Dornan two years ago was dizzy from the dissipated soul power.
Climb up.
Probably because she had just woken up, the expression on her face was confused. Except for the dull eyes, this little ghost was almost the same as other little girls. She was wearing a Delaney-style little dress.
Wearing a skirt and a braid, the image of this child still remains at the moment of his death.
But she is different from other ghosts.
"Yuna?"
Vagri Agatha shouted softly, which woke the child up from his dazed state. The latter turned back to look at Agatha blankly, and her body quickly dissipated in the black mist. Obviously, this
The little blind girl is trying to escape from this place.
"Yuna! Do you remember me? I am Tyrion..."
Tyrion took a step forward and called in a low voice:
"You should remember my voice, you should..."
"friend?"
Yuna's figure disappeared halfway when she heard Tyrion's voice. She shook her head hesitantly:
"Is it really you? My friend Tyrion?"
The little ghost took a step back and waved in the direction of the sound, trying to contact Tyrion in this way. The latter stretched out his hand and gently held the little ghost's cold hand in his palm.
"It was me. I asked my two friends to rescue you from the dementors. Now you are in my city and you are safe here..."
"It's not safe here, friend! They are watching us. It's not safe here. Those bad things will come and bite us at any time... Friend? Are you still there? Come with me, I will take you to a truly safe place. They will also
See you...they're looking for you too!"
Yuna screamed, but she was quickly taken out of the soul coffin by Tyrion's hand. Lord Dark Blade reached out and patted Yuna on the head. He said softly:
"No! Little Yuna, it's safe here, I promise. Come, let's have a good chat, my little friend, about why those dementors are chasing you? About your foothold in the Shadow Realm, and "
They "...I promise, little Yuna, I will protect you."
