This was almost the best sleep he had in the 10,000 years since he was cursed. In his sweet dreams, this magical prince from the Elf Empire dreamed of the past of the ancient times, and those who belonged to Queen Azshara's rule.
of gorgeous beauty.
In his dream, he returned to the prosperous Golden Azshara, admiring the beautiful night scene in the Queen's palace, which was as gorgeous as heaven.
He went to Suramar again, the pearl of the elven empire, the unique magic tree integrated with the big city shrouded in the halo of the silver moon. It was a scenery that made people forget to leave.
After drinking wine, he passed through the portals connecting various provinces of the empire and came to the quiet Eretharas. In that forest city full of precious knowledge and the queen's collection, he and his colleagues
He and his good friend Torcedrin, another magical prince who manages Elrethalas, discuss the obscure knowledge about mysterious magic.
The two chatted happily, and in the dream, they seemed to have not seen each other for a long time. There was a trace of sadness in their chat. They stayed busy like this for a long time. Finally, Prince Faroldis returned to Azsuna. That was
The elven city he manages, his palace is not as magnificent as Jin Azshara, but the ancient palace covered with vines is the place where he was born and grew up, and it is his home.
Amidst the cheers of the night watchmen of Farodis Palace, Prince Farodis walked into the palace. The beautiful guard Miss Eddie reached out and took his cane and cloak. In front of him, his most loyal guard captain
Thadders opened the door of the inner court for him, and his court minister of etiquette, the charming Mrs. Iriser, brought him a cup of hot drink, but the chamberlain minister, Elder Edes, was still missing...probably because of the
In the name of spreading the news, I went to seduce those common people.
In the memory of Prince Farodis, the elder who taught him the history of the nobility from an early age was such a "romantic" figure.
Oh, by the way, there should be a very skilled bartender in his memory... What was his name?
Farodis's memory became blurry at this moment... All the beautiful scenery and all the dreams in front of him began to distort. Mrs. Iriser standing next to him became ferocious, just like a woman summoned by necromancy magic.
Like a demon, she screamed and rushed towards him, and the gorgeous palace in front of Prince Farodis also became ancient and obsolete in an instant... just like a ruin abandoned in time.
Everything is broken...
Like broken fragments, Faroldis stood blankly in the chaos. He didn't know what was happening, until the next moment, he was completely swallowed up by the darkness rising from his feet.
Everything was broken...everything was lost, it was just a dream...He remembered, he destroyed it all with his own hands...
He, the murderer!
"No!!!"
Prince Farodis's eyes were completely opened at this moment, but what he saw was not the dilapidated palace he saw every day, but a stone roof covered with silk, which looked like a castle.
In the room, there was a black broken blade logo drawn on the silk above his head, which looked like the logo of an organization.
Prince Farodis, who woke up from his nightmare, sat up on the soft bed. He looked around blankly. The surrounding stone walls were dotted with many decorative weapons, as well as some carefully crafted specimens and gemstones.
From Prince Rodis's superb aesthetic point of view, the placement of these decorations is completely wrong, and it looks like treasures of various civilization styles are piled together haphazardly.
Well, it is full of the temperament of a nouveau riche.
But those vivid specimens represent the illustrious martial arts that the owner of this place cannot hide...Beside the stone wall, on the wooden shelf, there is a huge insect lord's head, with those dull eyes
His eyes still reflected the fear of this ferocious creature before it died, and next to the insect specimen was the cut-up skeleton of a Doom Lord.
There is also a wall lamp decorated with Gronn's teeth, and a photo frame made of dragon bones, which contains a photo of the great lord's family. In the square of Shattrath City, the silly girl Dornan's heartless happy smile
It always affects every guest who sees this photo.
Prince Farodis stood next to these special "handicrafts". Thanks to the good aristocratic education he received, he followed the etiquette that a guest should have and did not touch these priceless things. He just took them with him.
A critical aesthetic sense is looking at these things, and at the same time trying to distinguish some characteristics of the owner of this place from these collections... at least the hobbies.
This aristocratic analysis continued until the arrival of an attendant.
"Bang"
The door of the room was gently pushed open, and an upper elf wearing a red cloak and black dress appeared in front of Prince Farodis. The current governor of the Syndra elves, Modan, the head of the 13 lords of Syndra
Te. Yongying leaned slightly towards the magic prince with the courtesy of ten thousand years ago, and said in a hoarse and low voice:
"Please follow me, Your Majesty the Prince of Magic, Farodis. The master of this place is waiting for you."
"Um?"
Prince Faroldis turned back, a trace of curiosity flashed across his illusory face. He looked at the standard upper elf in front of him and asked in a low voice:
"You recognize me? Have you seen me before?"
Mordent Yongying raised his head, and his blood-red eyes made Prince Faroldis frown. Obviously, the upper elf in front of him was contaminated by some kind of force that was biased toward negative energy, but he might still retain his sanity.
.
"Yes, Prince Farodis, I have seen you more than once in the library of Elrethalas. Of course, I was just a magic apprentice ten thousand years ago... I have seen you, but you
You definitely can’t remember me, and that’s okay, too many things have changed in ten thousand years. For us ancient remnants, seeing every surviving compatriot is a great comfort.”
A cold and sincere smile flashed across Yongying's skinny face, and Sindrasa Lain turned sideways and made a "please" gesture:
"Come with me, Prince of Magic, please don't keep the great lord waiting for too long."
"All right."
Prince Faroldis stretched out his hand to straighten the magic robe on his illusory body. He picked up the magic scepter that he never left behind, followed Modante, and walked out of the castle room. Although he was a strange ghost,
body, but the walking posture of Prince Farodis is still the same as that of ordinary people. As a rare sane person among ghosts, he is different from his poor compatriots who are trapped in the memory gap. He clearly knows that this
How difficult it is to endure ten thousand years.
"What's your name? Syndra Elf."
Prince Farodis asked softly, and Yongying said without looking back:
"My name is Mordant Yongying, Lord Faroldis. I was once the magician of Prince Tortheldrin. Unfortunately, Prince Tortheldlin was in prison for ten thousand years and was squeezed out of his body due to too many contacts.
He became crazy due to the evil magic, and I had to end his miserable life with my own hands."
"You! You actually killed your own master! You are treasonous!"
Prince Farodis clenched the magic scepter in his hand at this moment, a flash of anger flashed in his heart, but Yongying didn't care:
"I know that Prince Tortheldrin is your best friend, Lord Faroldis, but with all due respect, times have changed. If you see with your own eyes what kind of monster Tortheldrin has degenerated into, I believe,
You will definitely kill him with your own hands... He is no longer the wise magical prince of the upper elf. Under that rotten body, he has become a monster that is no different from a demon."
"Sindra is finally free after ten thousand years of imprisonment. We now have no master and no class. We are one of the races under the rule of the Federation. Our people have enjoyed the first light of freedom in their lives. They
My life was very happy and fulfilling... Therefore, I don’t regret taking out that sword, or in other words, it was the first right thing I did in my life.”
Yongying's footsteps stopped at the door of the hall in front of him. He turned back and glanced at Prince Farodis with blood-red eyes. He said softly:
"Sindra is free. Lord Farodis, maybe your people will also be free from this ghost's curse... Of course, it depends on your choice... Go ahead,
The great lord is waiting for you."
"For the sake of the past, Lord Faroldis, please don't offend him."
——————————————
The interior decoration of the Dark Blade Legion's castle in the Realm of Death is not luxurious. Compared with a comfortable residence, the castle is more like a standard military unit. Even the hall used for receiving guests looks very simple.
, there is a large burning fireplace, a red carpet covering the floor, and a huge portrait hanging on the wall in the front of the hall.
Those are the portraits of the Death Lords and the Forgotten Kings of the Dark Blade Legion. This is an indication of status and a kind of commemoration.
When Faroldis walked into the hall, Tyrion was sitting by the fireplace, looking at a military report under the warm flames, which was the actions of the three legions of the Dark Blade in Northrend.
Reporting, the entire Howling Bay and huge parts of the Grizzly Hills have fallen under the control of the Dark Blade, and the Vrykul "rebellion" there has also been wiped out.
As the commander, Danath Trollbane is looking for important targets within the Grizzly Bear Hills, the "soul bear" formed from the fragments separated from the soul of the wilderness demigod Ursoc. Of course, the war of the Dark Blade
The traders are planning an invasion of the Zul'Drak region further west, and it is said that they have targeted several Loa gods worshiped by the frost trolls there.
Tyrion generally does not interfere in such military operations, but as a leader he must control the overall situation, so now his daily job is basically to read these reports and military plans, and put forward some of his own opinions from time to time, a complete bureaucratic system
The advantage is that many things do not require the leader to do it himself, and his subordinates will handle things as planned.
"Well, you're awake?"
Tyrion folded the documents in his hands and placed them on the table. He waved to Farodis behind him:
"Come, sit here and let's talk."
Prince Faroldis did not refuse. He sat on the chair next to Tyrion in the proper manner that an upper elf noble should have. He looked at Tyrion and after seeing the distinctive pointed ears of the great lord
, the magic prince whispered:
"Are you also an elf? Highborne? Or night elf?"
"Yeah, stupid bloodline theory."
Tyrion managed to hide his disgust for this elven classification. He took out a bottle of blood wine from the wine cabinet on the side, added ice cubes to it, then picked up two glasses of bright red wine and handed one of them to
Pharodis:
"But if you insist on getting to the bottom of it, I will tell you that I am a high elf, a kind between the high elf and the night elf... You can think that I am a degeneration of the high elf. After all, Dath'Rema
When he first decided to create the Sunwell, he never imagined that it would have such a huge impact on his descendants."
"Magic permanently changes our appearance, and our souls."
Faroldis nodded. He looked at the wine glass handed over by the lord and the colorful halo reflected by the wine in the glass in the firelight. He shook his head sadly:
"It's not that I refuse your kindness, but I am a ghost, I have no body...I can't enjoy this thing."
"oh?"
Tyrion took a sip of the cold wine. He squinted his eyes and savored the wonderful feeling of the wine in his taste buds. Looking at Farodis, he whispered:
"As smart as you are, why haven't you discovered it yet? Prince Farodis, when you stand in front of me... you have regained your body... You're welcome."
After Tyrion's reminder, Prince Faroldis lowered his head and looked at his soul body that seemed more solid in the warm firelight. In addition to the lack of flesh and blood, the abnormal illusion of ghosts was already there.
He physically disappeared, and before he noticed it, he could even feel the warmth brought by the flames burning in the fireplace.
That strange sense was something he had never felt in the past ten thousand years of soul imprisonment.
At this moment, even Faroldis, the wisest magic prince in the Elf Empire, seemed a little confused. He reached out and took the wine glass handed over by Tyrion. Feeling the slight coldness of the glass against his fingertips, he
Like a country bumpkin, he put the red wine under his nose and sniffed it. The strange sweetness with a hint of blood and the unfamiliar smell even made the Magic Prince's taste buds burst.
Finally, he trembled slightly, put the wine in his hand to his mouth, and felt the cold liquid flow into his mouth along his tongue. The chaotic taste made him suddenly widen his eyes at this moment, as if
Like being struck by lightning.
This sluggish posture lasted for nearly ten seconds, until Tyrion's cough woke him up. At this moment, Prince Faroldis lost his hostility and vigilance, and stared at him with his new green eyes.
Looking at Tyrion in front of him, he said solemnly:
"You...who are you? Queen Azshara's curse was actually caused by you...by you..."
"Azshara, the most powerful woman in the history of Azeroth, I admit that the complexity of the curse she cast through the Tidestone is beyond my understanding. The principle of that curse is very obscure and I cannot unravel it.
, I admit it.”
Tyrion shook the wine glass and looked at Prince Faroldis:
"But I don't need to unravel it. You are ghosts, a special variant of undead creatures, but you are still undead... As long as you are undead, you must obey the rules I set for this land.
..."
The great lord drank up the remaining wine in one gulp. He put down the cup and looked at Prince Farodis with a smile:
"Then get to know me again, Tyrion. Blade of Dawn, the ruler of this hell."
