"I'm going to kill him! Let me go! Cho'gall! I command you! I'm going to kill him!"
Saurfang roared and waved his battle ax, but was dragged backwards by the tall ogre wizard and several guards. His eyes were red, and in the battlefield that was completely blocked in front of him, accompanied by
With the death knights and the killing of those corpses, the orcs were losing their advantage little by little.
Every time one of their warriors falls, another warrior stands up on the opposite side!
Every time they are weakened by one point, the opponent will grow by one point!
Under the ups and downs, the power of both sides was being reversed, and the majesty of the death knights rose in this horrific killing. The orcs failed to eliminate the death knights in the first wave of attacks. What awaited them could only be gradually...
The increasing number of corpses is eating away bit by bit.
"Don't be impulsive! (They are slowing us down!)"
Cho'gall struggled to drag the angry Saurfang, and his two heads shouted loudly:
"The elves are coming! (Don't be fooled by them! We have to leave! Those people can't be saved!)"
"Don't forget Orgrim's order! (The most important thing is to defeat the Alliance! The traitors will be dealt with sooner or later!)"
Cho'gall's persuasion made Saurfang quickly regain his senses. He stood in the narrow passage in the mountainous area. He looked fiercely at Tyrion and his Dark Blade Knights who were killing orcs. He gritted his teeth.
Finally, he took a deep breath.
"Then let's go! Stop them!"
"Boom boom boom"
The ogre wizard who had been prepared long ago smashed the manic magic power in his hands against the rocks on both sides. In the explosion that shook the earth and the mountains, the rocks fell down, completely blocking the narrow mountain road.
At the moment the stone fell, Saurfang and Tyrion looked at each other. One was angry, the other was indifferent, the other was filled with hatred, and the other was dead silent. The orc warlord seemed to have this face engraved in his mind and in his heart.
, a vow to kill has been made.
"Sooner or later! Sooner or later... we have to kill all these monsters!"
The orc warlord turned over and mounted the wolf again. He shouted loudly:
"We have inherited the lives and hatred of our compatriots! Now, keep moving forward! Defeat humans, then go back and defeat them!"
"For the tribe!"
On the other side of the mountain rocks, nearly a thousand abandoned orcs were in despair. Their morale had plummeted, and they were unable to even escape as more and more corpses chased them.
"puff"
The cold sword stabbed the heart of an orc, and Luminas, who was covered in blood, shook her red hair happily. She looked at the rocks falling in front of her, and she said with some regret:
"It's a pity that they ran away so much..."
"It's enough to have so many orcs left."
Tyrion took back his heavy sword. He had lost interest in killing these ordinary soldiers. He looked at the blocked road in front of him and said softly:
"After all, we only have four people. This is already the limit, but there is no need to worry. I know where they will go... Next, we will find more companions and expand our strength. The next time we meet again, we will
This is no longer a small fight!"
His fingers were placed on the white skull hanging on his belt, and he narrowed his eyes:
"Gul'dan thought he could still escape, but we will tell him through actions that he is dead!"
"Tyrion! Look over there!"
Serent's shout made Tyrion turn around. Outside this bloody battlefield, in the far northern sky, a golden light curtain stood like a miracle in the sky of Quel'Thalas, like
Connected to a certain existence above the sky.
The beating golden light was so vivid, like a golden veil covering the sky, covering most of Quel'Thalas like a super large barrier.
"The Sunwell is the source of magic in Quel'Thalas. Such a defense cannot be broken by just a young dragon."
Tyrion moved his wrist:
"Those big shots are not hopeless yet. Now that the power of the Sunwell has been activated, those group of orc dragon knights are doomed. The free elves will probably come over soon, so disperse them!"
Leave these orcs to the elves to have a headache!"
"It's time for us to do our own thing."
————————————————————
In Tyrion's rare free time, in order to prevent his soul from being lost in the pain of death, he would always think about some issues, and what he thought about the most was about the origin of the blood elves of Sarain.
In the memory of the game, the strange race of Sarlain has always been mysterious. Tyrion only knew that they were resurrected by the second-generation death knight leader, the Lich King Arthas, who would appear more than ten years later.
They criticize the high elves, but no one knows why they became Sarlaine.
Tyrion once placed his hope in Serent and Luminas, but it turns out that not every high elf will become a Sarain after being recruited as a death knight. However, after summing up the failure of several attempts and the success of his own resurrection,
After characterization, Tyrion also seemed to have found some clues.
"The reason why I can become Sarain is probably because of my bloodline."
In the ruins of the destroyed elven outpost Dysom, Tyrion looked at the two corpses placed in front of him. These were two relatively unique existences he found among the many unwilling souls.
These are two noble elf mages. Judging from their emblems, they are still two mage captains. Being able to become mage captains in Quel'Thalas, a country with a developed magic system, is enough to illustrate their talents and abilities.
"My father, Carol Dawnblade, was once a high-ranking mage of the Firewing Legion, and my mother, Terissa Dawnblade, was the magic instructor of the Tower of the Sun."
Tyrion squeezed his arm, and his ice-blue eyes flashed with light of thought:
"As someone who inherited their bloodline, I should have followed their trajectory and become a mage instead of a ranger, but fate pushed me to that point...A ranger captain with excellent mage talent, this is probably what I can do
The reason why he became a death knight and a Sarain at the same time.”
His eyes fell on the corpse in front of him again:
"The desire for magic is the instinct of every high elf, but rangers can suppress that desire because they do not use magic and are not so dependent on magic... But mages are different. Every high elf mage has
They are hopeless addicts, and their thirst for magic is almost unlimited. Therefore, addiction... hopeless addiction is the key!"
"Buzz"
In Tyrion's body, which was fully strengthened by dragon blood, huge death energy spurted out, lighting up the psychic circle under the two mage corpses. In the dancing of dark red light, Tyrion's cold face
Being illuminated, he manipulated the death energy to seep into the two dead bodies little by little, activating the death energy that had been generated in their bodies.
And under the influence of the psychic circle, their incomplete souls that had been separated from their bodies were also summoned back from the distant abyss of hell little by little.
When their bodies began to tremble, Tyrion withdrew the death energy. He took a step back and looked at the two corpses in front of him. He could not interfere with the next process. Whether he could succeed or not depended on his fate.
I don't favor him anymore.
"It's a pity that a mage can't become a death knight..."
A trace of regret flashed in Tyrion's eyes. Apart from the weak plate armored warlocks created by Talon Gorefiend, in his mind, most of the real death knights were transformed from powerful warriors.
Their strength in life determines that they can skillfully use rune weapons after being recruited. With the help of the power of death, they will soon become qualified death knights.
However, casters like mages are not able to temper their bodies enough. Their lingering bodies determine that even if they are recruited after death and transformed by the energy of death, they cannot use rune weapons well. It is unrealistic to expect them to go into battle to kill the enemy.
Yes, such a fragile knight will be easily crushed into powder on the battlefield.
But Tyrion's fingers rubbed his chin, and another idea took root in his mind.
"Should I find a great lich for the Knights..."
Death is generous to everyone. Although mages cannot become qualified knights, they also have their own path to the dead. At the end of this path, there is the so-called immortal lich, who completely abandons the shackles of the body.
, the soul nourished by darkness is extremely powerful and is a truly powerful battlefield killing weapon in the death camp.
A real lich can easily set off a blizzard that can bury an entire legion. Their power is beyond the imagination of living mages.
The necromancy, shadow and ice magic that the Lich is good at can also greatly promote the training of Death Knight recruits and the recruitment speed of powerful knights. Therefore, the Death Knight and the Lich are definitely the most perfect partner, and also the combination of strength and strength.
Proof of strength, if there are not a few lichs in a death knight group, they will definitely be laughed at by their peers.
However, mages and warlocks with lich qualifications are very rare, so this matter cannot be rushed. Tyrion shook his head and returned his attention to the two mages in front of him. Their souls and bodies began to regenerate.
Active, the call-up has come to an end.
"Buzz"
The crisp magic explosion tore through the cold darkness, and the first awakened elf mage shook his head and climbed up from the altar.
He was wearing a red robe and had a hideous fatal wound on his abdomen, which had been sewn up with sutures by the ingenious Miss Luminas. He had probably just woken up from death, and he still had some awareness of the surrounding environment.
At a loss, he quickly raised his head and looked at Tyrion in the darkness in front of him. Those open eyes made Tyrion's heart skip a beat.
The eyes are a faint blood red!
The iconic blood red color of the blood elves!
"Who are you? Where am I?"
The old-looking elf mage reached out and touched the wound: "I remember, I have..."
"You are already dead, your memory did not lie to you!"
Tyrion whispered:
"But that's not important!"
He reached out and took out a frozen dragon blood bead from the pocket on his waist, and waved it in front of the mage:
"Are you thirsty?"
"What?"
The resurrected mage was a little dazed, but his eyes subconsciously followed the dragon blood bead in Tyrion's hand. Tyrion could clearly see that his Adam's apple twitched. Obviously, he felt weird about blood in his heart.
Hungry and thirsty, aroused.
But probably because he was used to suppressing his body's thirst for magic power, the old mage did not act immediately. At this moment, the second mage also woke up, and his eyes were also a numbing red.
Compared with the calmness of the old mage, the second young mage was much weaker in suppressing the rising desire in his body. His eyes looked directly at the dragon blood bead in Tyrion's hand, and he asked in a low voice
:
"What is that? Give it to me! Give it to me!!"
"OK."
A satisfied smile appeared at the corner of Tyrion's mouth. He stretched out his hand to break the freeze on the surface of the blood beads and suspended the blood in his hand. He looked at the young mage whose whole body was trembling and said softly:
"Want it? Just get it yourself..."
This sound made the young mage subconsciously reach out his hand, but it was knocked down by Tyrion's sword. The death knight looked seriously at the elf in front of him, and he said in a deep voice:
"No hands allowed! Feel the hunger in your body, the desire for blood, the power formed by desire, use it! Use it to get it!"
"If you can't do it!"
Tyrion's voice became colder:
"Then you are a failure! I don't need a weakling who can't control power!"
"well..."
A hoarse sigh sounded in the darkness, and the dragon blood bead suspended in Tyrion's hand was pulled forward by another identical but weak force, and fell into the hand of the elegant old mage.
Looking at the dragon's blood beating on his fingers, he did not swallow it immediately. Instead, he set his sights on Tyrion.
"My name is Severn...Seven. Flame, a high-level mage of the Fire Wing Legion. But now it seems that I may have become a monster. Why don't you introduce yourself? The stranger who turned me into a monster!"
Hostility filled the darkness. Faced with this question, Tyrion calmly took out another dragon blood bead and let it float in his hand. He looked at the old mage Severn in front of him:
"My name is Tyrion, Tyrion. Blade of Dawn. I want to correct one thing. Mr. Severn, you are not monsters, although you are so fragile to the manipulation of blood! But I still welcome you to join this organization... We
