"Talent?" Plaguebringer North was a magician with a strange appearance. He was an uncle in his fifties when he was alive. He painted his face with purple-black oil paint like bat wings, and had two hemp braids hanging down on his face.
On the clavicle.
Kel'Thuzad nodded: "Yes! Talent! Those stupid farmers are not qualified to push the times. Even if they join the Scourge, they are only qualified to become cannon fodder. Only heroes with a strong physique and extraordinary wisdom are qualified to enjoy eternity.
life. Our biggest mistake before was not pulling Alsace and McDonald into the embrace of death."
Kel'Thuzad was a typical elitist, and he immediately discussed the two men's recent great achievements at length to prove his point.
It sounded a bit strange, but North and Sergei nodded frequently.
This is the theory of the Curse Sect, eternal life, that is, the undead are noble. Only the most elite mortals are qualified to become one of them, and the other undead are just cannon fodder.
North asked: "But we have no chance to take action now! Heroes of the living often bring a large number of followers when they come in and out, and the entire Stratholme Federation territory is covered with artillery."
Serge followed: "The chess pieces of the Cursed Sect among the living have been almost cleared."
Kel'Thuzad's eyes flickered with ghostly fire: "Opportunities are created by oneself..."
This day, Hillsbrad Foothills.
As the commander-in-chief of the group army stationed here, Alexandros Mograine has been patrolling various military camps in the entire region with his personal guards for several years.
He prefers riding a horse to riding a car.
Times have changed, and he has no objection to his men riding in cars. Of course, the formation is also relatively large. Generally, there are no less than 5,000 people traveling, and there are often 50 tanks, and more than a hundred self-propelled artillery or armored vehicles of various types.
"Now we are likely to be attacked by two gangs of bones. We must not be careless." Lao Mo is not actually old. He is now in his forties and is in his prime.
Now that the main hero group of the Alliance has left for Silithus, as the remaining general, he pays more attention to the defense of Hillsbrad Hills.
What is gratifying is that the second and third generations of generals in the alliance have begun to be cultivated.
Especially Garithos, this clown in history, after going full circle, actually became one of Lao Mo's deputies, which is very interesting.
Without the extreme extremes and discrimination against high elves in the past, Garithos has not grown much in this life. His ability to control is actually above the standard, and as a result, he is now appointed by Lao Mo [for Alterac]
The commander-in-chief of the defense line.
After an inspection, Lao Mo was very satisfied with Garithos' war preparations.
Garithos decided on his own to dig five deep and long tank trenches in the direction of Alterac, and also prepared a large number of diesel barrels. Once the Scourge used the Corpse Sea tactic, this would be a good defense against ordinary skeleton soldiers.
and the charge of zombies.
In addition, the layered settings of fire-breathing tanks, conventional tanks and artillery are quite reasonable, taking into account the layered anti-aircraft firepower layout.
Coupled with an excellent shift system, Garithos' preparation for the game was impeccable.
Everything was normal. When old Mograine returned to his temporary camp, he suddenly saw a dagger. He was stunned on the spot.
"My lord, what's wrong?" The guard noticed something strange about Lao Mo.
"It's okay, you guys go out, I want to be quiet." Ping withdrew his men, and Lao Mo picked up the dagger on his camp bed, his eyes blurred.
It was given to his eldest son Reno that year.
For a time, countless memories came to mind.
From a baby waiting to be fed, to a half-person practicing martial arts with a wooden sword, to a half-grown child who can ride a horse, to a young talent wearing armor and going into battle to kill the enemy.
He once had great expectations for him and educated him very strictly.
Just like his father taught him back then.
The bigger Renault gets, the more rebellious he becomes.
He stopped Renault from liking his adopted daughter, which became the trigger for the breakup between father and son.
Renault died in the Silver Pine Forest battle where he proved his innocence. According to the report of his personal guards, Renault died in a very dishonorable manner.
Although McDonald later helped him cover up the past and gave Renault a certificate of 'heroic death in battle', Lao Mo knew that his son had betrayed him.
This also became his eternal pain.
If it weren't for Darian's outstanding performance, which somewhat healed the wounds in his heart, he would have been even more miserable.
He pulled out the dagger from the sheath and saw a line of text in shock: [If you still want to get Renault's soul back, at 12 o'clock tonight at XXX, you are only allowed to bring no more than ten personal guards]!
Old Mograine's eyes suddenly shrank to the size of a pencil tip, and his breathing suddenly became rapid.
…
At the same time, in Naxxramas.
North asked Sirgai: "Do you think Mograine will fall into the trap?"
Sergei: "It's hard to say. Your Excellency is very good at attacking the other's human weaknesses. This is just a tentative attempt..."
"He will come." The tall lich grinned, his bones in his jaw were empty, but everyone could feel Kel'Thuzad smiling: "I can sense the struggle in his soul."
"We don't have Renault's soul." North wondered.
"It's not important. The key is that Alexandros thinks we have it, and that's enough." The pride in Lao Ke's voice could hardly be concealed.
At twelve o'clock in the middle of the night, it is located on the west side of Tarren Mill, crossing the road and approaching the mountains.
In order to reserve more tactical space, the open space here was abandoned after Naxxramas entered the Alterac Mountains. Countless guns were aimed at this area, but there was no one.
A van with a rather special shape for the general public was driving on a relatively flat field.
For some reason, the red reflective logo of "Wuling Hongguang" on the corner of the rear door of the car looks very special when reflected by the car lights.
The car stopped, and Lao Mo, who was dressed in military uniform, got out of the car with two guards. There was only one driver left in the car.
"I, Alexandros Mograine, am here! Sneaky guy! Hand over my son's soul!" the old Duke's roar resounded throughout the mountains.
"Hehehe, Your Excellency the Duke is indeed a trustworthy person." Behind a big tree where five people were hugging each other, North and Sergey walked out together.
At the same time, the surrounding ground was shaking, and countless undead crawled out of the soil.
Two tunnels opened, and out of the dark tunnels came hundreds of death knights riding undead horses, and no less than twenty abominations. Amidst the rapid sound of horse hooves, Lao Mo and He unsheathed their swords, nervously
The Xixi bodyguards were surrounded.
"Better watch out for that car." Sergei reminded North to pay attention to the van.
North glanced at the car behind Lao Mo and spat disdainfully: How many people can be hidden in this little broken car?
