The huge wind and snow in the Dragon Bone Wilderness showed no sign of weakening. Amidst the icy haze and the huge and shocking power of death, the goose feather snow in this area was flying indiscriminately, as if it was going to bury everything on the entire earth.
The team that rescued King Alsace had lost one-third during the fierce battle. Facing an enemy powerful enough to shake the world, such losses were inevitable, and the members who participated in the rescue with these resources also lost their lives when they set off.
It seems that they have never thought that they can go back alive. Although in the eyes of free people, the loyalty of the feudal era is somewhat ignorant and unhuman, in the minds of these warriors, the loyalty of risking everything for the king is the most important thing for a knight.
The perfect home.
And their sacrifices are not meaningless.
"Wow"
The blade of holy light that was compressed to the extreme flashed away, like a sharp sword that was unsheathed and then retracted, even leaving a golden phantom in the eyes of the people around it.
While the anxious air roared, cold blood was sprinkled in the air of Dragon Bone Wilderness. Lord Dark Blade looked at his left arm that was blocking his chest. At the position of his wrist, there was an arm strengthened by dragon blood and life fruit.
The body was cut off at the wrists by the sharp holy light, leaving only a burned stubble where the palm used to be.
The entire fist was broken at the wrist, fully demonstrating the power of Alsace's decisive blow just now, and although the severed flesh and blood had begun to heal rapidly, this could not hide the fact that...
"Ah, are the fangs of today's young people so sharp?"
Tyrion let out a low sigh. He lowered his head. The left hand with the ancient ring fell at Alsace's feet. The moment the severed palm fell on the snow, his fingers twitched nervously.
.
"It seems that I underestimated you."
Lord Darkblade had the Ashbringer in one hand, whizzing out a shadow of a sword. Under Tyrion's ferocious smile, he waved the long sword without mercy. Jaina, who was supporting Arthas, waved her staff and struck out with a wave.
A thick layer of ice was suspended in front of her, Arthas and Vol'jin. The young troll passed by the God of Death. There was still a trace of panic in his eyes, but at this desperate moment, he still did not stop his efforts.
Voodoo war dance.
Behind the three men, all the warriors, covered with strange golden-red voodoo, rushed towards the Dark Blade Lord from behind in a group charge attitude, who was about to strike viciously.
"哐"
The ruthless and cold Ashbringer suddenly chopped down. The thick ice cap condensed by the Archmage's magic power could only resist for less than a third of a second before it was completely shattered by the bombardment of the roaring black sword shadow. Arthas
Gritting his teeth, he turned around and held Jaina in his arms. The next second, the sharp sword blade hit his back. Under the protection of the golden and red voodoo, the blade failed to hurt him, but the long sword
During the collision with huge force, the two desperate lovers hugging each other and Wojin behind them were thrown away.
The moment the three people flew out, the voodoo circle that lost its host stopped and was infected by the death energy. The "invincible" golden-red light curtain on the surface of everyone's body suddenly dissipated.
As the golden-red light feathers dispersed, Tyrion let out a burst of laughter that made one's scalp numb. His figure moved forward in the ice and snow, like a black lightning, holding a sword in his hand, flashing in a flash.
, appeared in front of the three people who fell on the ground.
"Death! The living!"
The dark sword shadow flying in the sky behind Tyrion screamed and stabbed the three people in front of him, while Jaina pursed her lips. At the moment when the sword blade whizzed in, she grabbed Arthas with one hand and Wo with the other.
Jin, in the confinement of the heavy energy lingering around Tyrion, used a desperate gesture to burst out the magic power in his body, forcibly opening a gap.
"Shua"
The flashing spell that danced in the blue light curtain took the three people away from the hell where they were chopped into pieces. The moment the three people appeared on the edge of the battlefield, the Archmage Modera, who had been observing the battlefield, suddenly crushed them into pieces.
He held the space positioning rune stone in his hand that emitted purple light.
"Ouch"
A loud dragon roar also sounded in the sky. The huge body of Krasus, the red dragon archmage who was once a member of the six-person council and a personal friend of Modera, seemed to have broken through the space and suddenly descended.
Above the battlefield, the eyes of this powerful queen consort shone with blazing hatred. At the moment it appeared, its claws swung up and tore off the two white bone wings of the undead bone dragon that was rampant in the sky.
.
And the next second, the huge red dragon opened its mouth, and in its bloody mouth, the dragon fire that was compressed to the extreme hit Tyrion's position below.
Like a pillar of fire stretching across the sky and the earth, everything on the ground, everything in the air, along with the snowflakes flying in the sky... were all ignited in an instant.
In the blazing air with flying flames, in Alsace's sight, Tyrion's figure turned into black mist, slowly dissipating in the flames. When he disappeared, there was a voice that only two people could hear.
, also rang in Alsace’s ears.
"You fought well in this battle...especially you, Arthas Menethil."
"But the warm-up match is coming to an end. See you later, young king."
———————————————————————
Everyone stood dumbly in front of the "ignited" glacier in front of them. The coldness in the surrounding air was dissipated by the scorching flames, and the warm touch made everyone who survived feel like they were in a dream.
They stood silently, watching the awakened dead souls burning in the hell of dragon fire. Some soldiers silently collected the remains of their companions. These warriors died in the sacred battle against evil. Their
The body will be returned to Kalimdor, purified by the priests, burned, and then placed in the tomb of the Church of the Holy Light.
In the eyes of believers, this ending means that the heroic spirits of the warriors have returned to the embrace of the Holy Light.
The adhesion and burning properties of the red dragon's fire of life are extremely terrifying. This dragon fire will not dissipate so easily before all the materials that can be burned are burned.
"Did he burn to death?"
Vol'jin, whose face was covered in black and gray, hung his arm and held his curved blade in his other hand. He stood next to Thrall and accepted the treatment from the orc shaman. The last blow that just missed the god of death.
If Arthas hadn't been protecting him and Jaina behind him, the sharp Ashbringer might have chopped off his head.
This was the first time that young Vol'jin saw the power of the Dark Blade. He stammered and asked:
"The dragon killed him, right?"
No one answered Vol'jin. Anyone who had dealt with Tyrion knew that this big lord was not that easy to deal with, and now, after a desperate battle, no one was interested in saying too much.
"It's not that simple..."
A gentle voice sounded behind everyone. Archmage Modera turned around and saw Krasus wearing a red robe and a magic sword. This red dragon appeared behind everyone in the form of a high elf, and behind him
Behind him, there were several special members, one of whom was Countess Presto who left midway.
"Old friend, long time no see."
Modera stepped forward and hugged the handsome Krasus, while the red dragon mage smiled at his human friend, then turned to look at the others, a trace of dissatisfaction flashed in his yellow snake eyes.
"You... humans, no matter what reasons you have, this adventure is too reckless... If Onyxia hadn't rushed to Wyrmrest Temple to ask for help, relying only on Modera's communication spell, you would have
Help from the dragons is hard to come by, and some of my compatriots... are not as friendly as I am."
This rebuke made the faces of the survivors darker, while the innocent young tauren Bain curiously looked at the young dragon flying in the sky, swung his tail, and said optimistically:
"But it turned out well...all's well, we beat him, right? Guys, it's a win."
"No, Minotaur."
Krasus looked at Bain, his eyes lingered on the black heavy firearms carried on Bain's back for a moment, then shook his head, and said with the indifference and reserve that a dragon should have:
"We didn't defeat him. To be precise, my dragon fire couldn't even hurt him. He left on his own. I don't know why, but if you think this is the true identity of Tyrion. Blade of Dawn,
strength, then you are wrong."
"This dragon friend is right."
Grand Defender Maraad sat cross-legged on the ground, healing his wounds with the Holy Light spell while saying to the others:
"I have personally witnessed the battle between Tyrion and Emperor Lothar in Northern Xinjiang. If he had used that transcendent power from the beginning today, we would not have been able to hold on to the help of the dragon. His fighting posture today is like
It's like... playing a game with us."
"He left this behind!"
The pale Jaina froze Tyrion's severed left hand with ice, and used her magic hand to float it in front of everyone's eyes. Under everyone's gaze, the flesh and blood of the severed fist changed rapidly.
It was gray and white, as if it had been weathered by time. In just a few minutes, the flesh and blood of the fist strangely dissipated, leaving only the white bones, and even the white bones disappeared completely after dozens of seconds.
In the end, all that was left in the ice was a simple ring, with a dark and unknown light emitting from the surface of the ring.
"This is a space ring."
Archmage Modera put on a special monocle, studied it carefully for a few minutes, and said to the others:
"The space inscription is in an activated state. In other words, there is something inside this ring, something that Tyrion can carry personally. Maybe...it's worth studying."
"This is dangerous, ma'am. No one knows what that madman might have left in the ring."
The Grand Defender was the first to express his objection, and others also expressed their concerns. Tyrion's brutal power left a deep impression on everyone.
"Then come with us to Longmian Temple first."
Seeing that the conversation had reached a deadlock, the red dragon mage Krasus coughed slightly and said to the others:
"The queen has heard about your battles with Tyrion. She is very interested in you. She wants to meet you. Everyone, this is a rare honor. Moreover, there are many dragons in the temple who are proficient in space magic. They may be able to help.
You, in absolute safety, unlock the secrets inside this ring."
As he spoke, Crassus glanced at Alsace and his two loyal attendants, who were guarded by the warriors and nearly unconscious.
"Your members also need help, so please rest here for a while."
"What about you? Deconstructor, do you want to come with us?"
Archmage Modera turned to look at the Nerubian Priest standing silently on the edge. After fighting against powerful enemies together, the Nerubian Priest Skris gained the initial trust of everyone. Faced with this invitation, the seriously injured priest
Shaking his head, his strange voice sounded in everyone's minds:
"I need to go back to the darkness underground to cultivate. The soul power of the undead is too huge. My spiritual core has been horribly impacted. This is the most serious injury I have suffered in thousands of years... In addition, Spider
The relationship between demons and dragons is not very friendly. In the past thousands of years, hundreds of giant dragons have become the food of our former kings, generals and lords...So, please allow me to refuse this invitation."
"What about the alliance?"
"Give me a map of your territory. When the time is right, I will take my tribe to visit you... Now, the time has not yet come."
————————————————————
"Are you hurt?"
In the northwest of Northrend, in the barren land that is shrouded in extremely cold snowstorms all year round and full of wandering undead, on top of the large glacier that has existed for hundreds of thousands of years, the figure of Vaggyr Agatha passes through
The barrier between the two worlds appeared behind Tyrion. The Valkyrie looked at Tyrion's resurrected left hand and asked in a low voice:
"Who can harm you in this continent? Did you go to the Storm Cliffs to provoke those guardians?"
Tyrion put his smooth and new fingers in front of his eyes, moved them a few times, and then shook his head:
"No...it's just a game."
"And since it's a game, there must be rewards, right?"
