The realm of death is a mysterious place that the living cannot enter and is the destination of the dead.
It is like "hell" in the traditional sense, but in fact it is more complicated than hell. It seems to be a world with another set of rules, which hangs over the real world. After certain conditions are met, it
It will be connected to the real world.
14 months ago, after Tyrion sniped the great demon Archimonde, he was surrounded by two gods of death in Azeroth. It was also at that time that he was "for the first time" by Val'kyr Agatha.
He was dragged into the realm of death and truly had a mysterious "connection" with that world.
And now, the weak and unique undead standing in front of Tyrion was the one who resurrected in Northern Xinjiang after Tyrion came into contact with the Realm of Death. Anyone with basic logical thinking ability will recognize these two.
Things are connected. Once, Tyrion thought that before he truly understood the mystery of the Realm of Death, that world would not affect reality. Now it seems that his understanding was wrong.
Ever since he entered that world, the Realm of Death has been affecting reality, but he just didn't realize it.
"Come on, sit down and talk."
Tyrion snapped his fingers, and several beautifully dressed undead maids brought chairs and dining tables for Jeffrey Dylan. The fat chef Lar, who had been prepared long ago, was wearing a coquettish
Wearing a mix of white and gold chef robes and a tall chef's hat, he pushed the dining cart into the room, quickly placed several "dishes" that the great lord liked very much on the table, and served them to the guests diligently.
A bowl of antler soup with added ingredients.
The great lord sat opposite Jeffrey in a very relaxed posture. He crossed his legs and put his hands on the armrests of the chair. He held half a glass of wine in his hand. He watched Jeffrey taste the dishes carefully and looked at
The expressions of "surprise" appeared on the skinny face of this free undead.
For any undead, the temporary recovery of the sense of taste is a pleasant thing. With the food and wine, the previous fear of the powerful power of the big lord has also disappeared unconsciously.
.
While the guests from afar were tasting delicious food, Tyrion carefully observed this "free" undead with a cold but not perfunctory smile.
In Tyrion's view, the death energy in Jeffrey Dylan's body is as weak as a firefly in the wind. The death energy is only maintaining the movement of Jeffrey's body and ensuring that his body will not
It was rotten and could not be used in combat at all. To be honest, this was the first time Tyrion had seen such a weak undead.
But this undead's weak body actually hides an almost complete soul. The integrity of his soul is almost comparable to that of the high-level knights of Dark Blade, and it is easy to see that this undead still maintains "emotions".
And... he seems to be slightly different from the undead of Dark Blade. His inner obsession does not seem to be serious, at least not serious enough to affect his soul.
In other words...except for his dead body, Jeffrey Dylan is almost a complete "person", as if a not-so-living human soul was stuffed into a dead body.
Same here.
"Well..."
After devouring the last piece of deer steak seasoned with spider venom, Jeffrey Dylan let out a groan of satisfaction. He picked up the tablecloth, wiped his mouth, and said to the great lord in front of him:
"Sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, my God, I haven't experienced such a vivid taste in many years... Just this big meal, in my opinion, is already a worthwhile trip. Thank you for your hospitality, Great Lord
, thank you for your kindness.”
"Um..."
Tyrion did not answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on Dylan's body. In his spiritual vision, he could clearly see the movement of the weak death energy in the food eaten by Jeffrey.
, was slowly "digested", and after digestion, the death energy in Dylan's body actually became a little thicker... Damn it! These weird undead can actually become stronger by "eating"...
"What is the principle of this?"
Tyrion muttered, then reopened the topic. He looked at Jeffrey and asked softly:
"So, let me guess, Dylan, you are not a soul living in this era, and this body of yours is not your original body, right?"
Faced with this question, Jeffrey Dylan nodded calmly, his gray eyes dancing with the light of thought, and he said:
"I should be...well, according to the current calendar, I should be born in 225 years before the Dark Portal, and unfortunately fell ill and died of a plague that spread throughout Stratholme in 165 years before the Dark Portal. I am
A ghost who lived 200 years ago, but doesn’t know why he is resurrected in this era.”
As he spoke, he patted his still intact body and said somewhat self-deprecatingly:
"And this body... is indeed not my body. In fact, it was only when I struggled to open the rotting coffin and wash the body by the lake that I realized that I was "resurrected" in another body.
.And I am already lucky. In Herman Town, at least one-third of the residents have broken bodies... We can't find the "doctor" of the undead, and we don't know how to repair it.
Broken body."
"Well, that sounds bad."
Tyrion took a sip of blood wine and said to Jeffrey:
"But Dark Blade has a complete set of repair methods for the undead body. If you trust us, when you leave, I can send a team of psychics who are proficient in medical treatment to go back with you, as well as some special treatment for the undead."
The serving chef... Eating is just a pastime for the Darkblade Undead, but it seems that it has a unique "meaning" for you."
"Then I would like to thank you for your generosity on behalf of my people, High Lord."
Jeffrey stood up and bowed slightly to Tyrion, while the high lord waved his hand. He was silent for a few seconds and looked at Jeffrey:
"I guess the reason why you are willing to come to Stormwind City with Rogge is not just to satisfy your curiosity, right?"
"Yes."
Dylan nodded calmly again. Talking to this guy made Tyrion feel very comfortable, just like chatting with a human being with a complete personality, and the two identical life forms also added to the chat.
He had a different kind of kindness. At least in the serious and rigid Dark Blade Legion, Tyrion couldn't find such a good chatter.
Jeffrey looked at the intimidating ice-blue eyes of the great lord. He hesitated for a moment, and then asked:
"What I want to know is...does the birth of us, the Forgotten Ones, have anything to do with you? Are you our...creator? Or rather, the Creator?"
"Why do you think so?"
Tyrion drank all the blood wine in the cup. He placed the cup on the table, crossed his hands on his chest, and looked at Jeffrey:
"Why do you think this way?"
"Because... because at the moment when I just recovered, there were still some special "pictures" left in my unclear mind."
Jeffrey rubbed his dry forehead skin. This was probably the way he thought when he was still alive. He said in a daze:
"That should be what my soul saw in hell...the remaining memories, in fact, not just me, many resurrected forgotten people have such memories, just some fragments, but in those fragments,
There is a vague figure holding a black fire sword..."
Dylan looked at Tyrion, with undisguised anticipation and anxiety in his gray eyes:
"That's you, right? You fought in hell to free our souls from the bonds of the dark place...resurrected on this land in the same life form as you...many Forgotten firmly believe
Our resurrection has a certain mission...I came to Stormwind City and came to see you just to understand this mission! We..."
"Why are dead people like us alive?"
Geoffrey's question kept Tyrion silent for several minutes. Finally, under the gaze of the Forgotten Mayor, Tyrion spread his fingers outward, and the whistling sword of evil and the soul sword Apocalypse appeared in his palm.
Here, entangled in the black flames, Apocalypse finally became a look that frightened the spirits.
"Is this... what you remember?"
Tyrion placed Apocalypse horizontally in the air in front of him. The beating black flames did not feel burning at all. On the contrary, as the flames beat, the surrounding air became cold.
The moment he saw the apocalypse, Jeffrey stood up from his chair excitedly. He stared at the burning bone sword in front of him. Finally, he sincerely put his hands on his chest and stood alone in front of Tyrion.
Kneeling on his knees, he lowered his head, just like a mortal worshiping under a god, and said in a sincere voice:
"Ah, the creator of the Forgotten...I...we have finally found you, please tell us...please tell us the mission of the Forgotten, right? Please make our recovery...become effective.
significance."
Looking at the forgotten souls kneeling on the ground in front of him, Tyrion's eyes turned cold and he said in a deep voice:
"I still don't know the connection between your birth and me, but if you are really born because of me, then I don't want to see my dependents kneeling in front of anyone...stand up!"
Jeffrey Dylan stood up immediately. He lowered his head in fear, until the cold palm of the great lord placed on his shoulder:
"First of all, you are free. Remember this. No one will be your master. If there is a guy who claims this in front of you...then do as I say and give him a hard blow.
!”
"Secondly, the emergence of the Forgotten has filled a regret I have always had. Dylan, I single-handedly created the civilization of the Federation. I hope to see all races fighting and working hard for a great goal, but in the system of the Federation
, there is no undead civilization... You know what you want to say, but listen to me..."
Tyrion took back the humming apocalypse, spread his arms in front of Jeffrey Dylan, and said like a dreamer:
"You want to say that there are Dark Blade Undead in the federal system, but a civilization cannot just rely on a group of soldiers. Yes, in my eyes, the Dark Blade Legion is very powerful, but it cannot be called civilization...
We are soldiers, we are warriors, we are weapons...but we are not civilization!"
"A civilization should have a free enough soul, enough wisdom to maintain its own existence, and be able to reproduce naturally without external interference... It is my regret that the Dark Blade cannot satisfy any of these three points, Undead, Yishou
It is a very regrettable fact that the undead who created the federal civilization do not have a civilization of their own, and your appearance...Dylan, your appearance has filled this regret."
The great lord looked at the Forgotten One in front of him with clear eyes, and he said:
"Your souls are free and unfettered. Although your individuals are weak, you have enough and complete wisdom. When I didn't notice, you have multiplied into communities. Although this multiplication has
The process is different from other lives, but it doesn't matter. I see the future of the undead from you...the Forgotten...this name is not very good. You will call yourself "the undead" in the future...you will become
Under the federal system, the true undead civilization! You must reproduce your own civilization!"
"You look to me for the meaning of your existence? This is the meaning of your existence! Create and develop your own civilization, use your own existence to fulfill the cyclical creed of life and death, and work with the living to create a glorious and endless world for the Federation.
An endless future...this is your mission."
"This is the mission of the undead! Starting today..."
Tyrion's tone became deeper, and he stretched out his left hand to Jeffrey Dylan:
"Starting today, maybe a little later, the undead will have to wait for the stage of the world... Are you ready?"
Jeffrey Dylan looked at the great lord's left hand stretched out in front of him. He was a little afraid, but Tyrion's deafening speech made him see a future path in his confusion, which was different from what he imagined.
The Creator's speech was a little different. He once thought that Tyrion would force them to join his legion, but now, Tyrion has given them the right to choose freely...
But maybe...
Jeffrey carefully looked at Tyrion and the Blade of Dawn in front of him, then stretched out his hand and held it with Tyrion.
Maybe this is what the Creator should really be like... At least such a Dark Blade Lord is more like a leader worth relying on and worth following than the indifferent gods described in the scriptures.
——————————————
Tyrion stood by the window of the mansion, watching the back of Jeffrey Dylan leaving under the leadership of Rogelio, and he asked softly:
"What do you think this is going on?"
"There is no doubt that the influence of the Realm of Death on the present world is increasing, and I guess that because of your frequent contact with it, that plane is "closer" to the present world."
Behind the high lord, Shadow Valkyr Agatha said:
"The appearance of the undead may be just a symptom of this influence."
"Annhelder, what do you think?"
Tyrion asked again:
"You are trusted by Hela. Have you learned about the rules of the Realm of Death from her?"
On the other side of the high lord, there is another Val'kyr, but compared to Agatha, she is larger in size, and the armor on her body is more complex and more gorgeous. After Tyrion's inquiry, this one who just joined Dark
The Blade Valkyrie leader shook her head and said in a hoarse voice:
"Hela will never tell us this, but...if you have to make a guess, then I think that the appearance of these undead is because of the dementors you killed in the Realm of Death...
Dementors feed on the negative emotions of the soul, but in the face of this monster, those weak souls are irresistible. They will be completely absorbed into the body of the dementor, a dementor body that lives long enough.
It will bind many, many weak souls."
"You killed those monsters, so those confused souls followed the path you took and appeared in the world, so they think you are their creator. This is actually true..."
"Hmm, interesting."
Tyrion rubbed his chin and said to the two Val'kyr behind him:
"Then go look for them, Anhild, Agatha, take your sisters, and search for these new undead throughout the entire eastern continent."
"Look for my dependents and bring them to the Federation... It may take a long time for the undead civilization to be born, but it doesn't matter..."
"I can afford to wait for the true future of this undead."
