Azeroth’s Death Track

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"boom"

In the final battlefield of the Champions League, the draenei garrison with broken armor fell to the ground weakly. His whole body was covered with blood, his left hand was cut off by the war sword, and the left hand was holding the war hammer. Raising his head and looking at Varian standing in front of him, he saw the blue eyes under the black helmet, and in those eyes, there was a flash of apology.

"Sorry, but... I have a reason to win..."

Varian raised his war sword and said softly:

"There are 2!"

"Ha ha..."

The weak garrison shook his head, facing the severed sword, he closed his eyes. Between the last surge of the Holy Light, he said softly:

"Holy Light...The Light keeps us forever..."

"Wow"

The dazzling blood spattered, the last warrior of the powerful broken sun fell between the pools of blood, Varian looked at his fallen figure, he did not have the joy of victory in his heart, he knew that if you change a scene, he and These brave draenei fighters might become good friends.

Both are believers in the light.

But now, both sides bleed to fight for the goals that each other has identified...

"Uh"

The gray war sword pierced the ground, Varian gritted his teeth, took his helmet off, knelt on the ground, and placed it beside the Draenei, with Valera and Blood Fist standing beside him Behind, around the stadium, the audience has already cheered, but their celebration has nothing to do with the victory of the gladiator king.

"I don't want to be a gladiator... Valila, Blood Fist... This kind of battle makes me feel disgusted."

Varian whispered. Behind him, Valie stretched out her hand and put it on Varian's shoulder. The girl with blood on her face whispered:

"It doesn't matter, no matter what you want to do, I will be with you..."

Varian did not respond to this loving voice. He raised his head and looked at the large platform directly in front of the arena, where Tyrion’s figure disappeared somehow, on the black throne, instead, it was Cheering children, and Anduin... Anduin, his eyes widened, this is the first time the little prince saw the face under the black ghost helmet.

Although he had never seen his father, at this moment, the little prince still felt a touch of blood from the scarred face.

But now...not at this time.

————————————————————————

One day later, on the city square of Shattrath City, the generals of the city’s defense, the powerful Paladin General Sarantis, looked at the three men wearing leather armor and hoods, and looked at the feet full of gold coins. He has heard the news of the destruction of the broken sun in the big box, but now, the black ghost gladiator has given all the gold coins they won to Shattrath City.

This strange scene made this old general who had lived for more than 20,000 years wonder what to say.

"I know that the Warriors of the Broken Sun are participating in the gladiatorial game for the reconstruction of Shattrath City. They are all respectable warriors...these gold coins are of no use to us, but I believe that it is for this The city is significant."

After repairing his beard and taking care of his hair, Varian said to General Sarantis:

"Although the grudges in the arena should not continue to reality, but as a respect to the warriors, please also accept these gold coins..."

General Sarantis wanted to refuse, but considering the current situation in Shattrath, the tens of thousands of gold coins contained in this box can really play a big gush. At least those exiles in the slums will pass by these gold coins A better day... So after a moment of thinking, the old general waved his hand, and several strong draenei soldiers carried the box back to the city hall.

The draenei solemnly bowed to Varian. He said:

"In the world of Draenor, there are not many people like you... Anyway, the entire Shattrath City is grateful to you, if you have any needs... we will try our best to meet!"

Varian shook his head. He turned to look at the two companions behind him. He said:

"We will soon leave this world, and we don't do these things just to win gratitude, just... forget it, so! Goodbye."

After finishing speaking, the three gladiators pulled up their hoods and turned to leave the city square. After walking out of Shattrath City, at the crossroads of Terokkar Forest, a group of people were waiting for them.

It was the gladiators who were willing to follow Varian in the world after the dissolution of the Black Ghost Warfare. There were nearly 200 people, and Marshal Windsor who left the dark temple. This old man was sitting in a wheelchair, and other The gladiator chatted to the sky, and after seeing Varian coming out, he pushed his wheelchair and approached the former king.

"Your Majesty, you..."

"Don't call me that, Windsor, call me Varian, I am not a king now."

Varian stopped Windsor's persuasion. He crouched in front of the old marshal. He looked at Windsor seriously. He said:

"You, like me, have witnessed the society that the federal civilization has built on our land. You should see more clearly than me. Old Marshal, our people do not expect the return of the king in their hearts. They are the chaotic impression of the old times. They live better than before. They have dignity and freedom...The rulers of the Federation are better than us."

"They are more qualified than us to rule that land... and that land is no longer welcome to us, if we still carry the banner of kings and nobles, and take the army to destroy the lives of the people there... Well, What is the difference between us and the orcs who once hated us?"

Varian patted the old marshal's hand. He smiled and said frankly:

"Whether it is on the battlefield or in the hearts of the people, we have lost...We should see the reality."

The old marshal wanted to say something, but Varian's heartfelt words reminded him of what he saw and heard in the past few years. Finally, the old marshal nodded and leaned on the wheelchair, smiling weakly. :

"Maybe, you are right."

"Maxwell and Gore and the veterans who are loyal to you have also become lazy in search of your trail in recent years. I thought it was because they were corroded by the life and power of the Federation, but now it seems that it may have been ignorant. The person is me... Maxwell and Gore heard the people's inner voice, they recognized the reality..."

Tears burst into the eyes of the old marshal, and he laughed:

"Only my stupid old bone still misses the past...In their words, I may have been eliminated by the times, alas...it is empty at the end."

"So, just follow us, Windsor."

Varian personally pushed the old marshal's wheelchair, he said to the old marshal:

"I went to say goodbye to my son, and then we went to Stratholme. Last time I talked with Old Fording, the paladins and the people they sheltered planned to establish a The new country...to protect the last homeland of the empire, the emperor Lothar’s coat of arms is also there, so let’s go there and live a good life there."

"Wait! Varian!"

A low voice accompanied by the fluctuation of the opening of the portal, sounded behind a group of people, Varian turned back and saw Jean Greymane striding out of the portal, the former King Gilneas appeared very thin His eyes also turned dim gray. Varian didn’t know what kind of days Jean had been in these years, but he could probably guess that the king might not be happy.

"Varian, you must fulfill your mission! Listen to me. The responsibility of the Wrynn family is calling you. You must go to Kalimdor to succeed the king... you must go!"

Jean’s low, hoarse voice made Varian frown. After seeing the advancement of the federal civilization, the self-exiled king had no idea of ​​launching an inappropriate war. He and Tyrion There is still hatred between them, but as he himself said, it is just hatred between private individuals, and it has nothing to do with the two systems.

"Jean, I can understand the anger and loss of the national ruin, but you are free now."

Varian said to the king in front of him:

"You can go to Kalimdor by boat and re-lead the Gilneas. I heard that they won the Centaur Barbarians over there, the human empire is rebuilding, and I...I don’t plan to participate anymore, I Just want to stay with my son, my wife, and my companions, please forgive me, Jean, and treat me as a shameful deserter."

"But I really can't ignore what I saw, and then return to the nobility and lead them to wage a war that should not be waged..."

"No! No, Varian!"

Jean shook his head. His eyes swept the people behind Varian. He took a deep breath, beckoned Varian, and turned around:

"Come with me, I have something to tell you... You can only come by yourself, that chick, don't think of getting close in the shadow... I can smell you!"

Jean’s warning made Valira stomping her feet in hate, but Varian patted her shoulder, and the violent chick calmed down. Varian looked back and looked at Jean walking into the jungle. Blood Fist took the gray war sword in his hand, and then strode over.

Between the dense forests of Terokkar Forest, Jean stood in the shadow, his back to Varian. The latter looked behind Jean, his eyes narrowed, and he could see that in the shadow, Ji En's body is rapidly changing shape, which makes Varian clenched the hilt subconsciously.

"Don't be afraid! I won't hurt you..."

Jean’s voice sounded again, but it was more hoarse than before, and, full of dangerous wildness, the king turned around, and in the shadow of the jungle, Varian saw a giant werewolf stretching his body , That gray mane, sharp claws and the green light of those eyes shining in the shadows, so that Varian’s gladiator instincts began to call the police crazy...

Standing in front of him was a terrifying...extremely terrifying creature.

"Jean! How did you become..."

Varian frowned, and he asked quietly:

"How did you become a werewolf! Did Tyrion do it? That shit!"

"He did it, yes, but that miscellaneous deed has done enough..."

Jean waved his hand. He did not want to discuss too much on this issue. He looked at Varian and he said:

"I got the news, Varian, I did not encourage you to return to the empire, and wage a war against the Blade and the Federation. With the power of the current Empire, there is no ability to fight the Blade in at least 10 years, I know this better than anyone else, but the empire is facing a crisis now, not from the dark blade, listen to me...you must go back and save the soldiers and people of the empire, those stupid boys who are taking the soldiers to step on Into a dangerous trap!"

"What do you mean?"

Varian lowered the war sword in his hand, and he asked:

"You mean, the empire is facing another war?"

"Zergman! Qila Zerg!"

Jean took a sealed reel from his pocket and threw it to Varian:

"The power of the Qirajis to hoard in the desert of Silithus is more terrible than the young kings of the human empire realized. Judging from the information collected by the Dark Edge Intelligence Bureau, the army they have assembled now is not enough. The army against the worms, once they recklessly opened the beetle wall, the worms that came out of the nest only need 3 days, or less time, to drown the army that stepped into the desert!"

"You must rush back to the empire before they open the wall of the beetle, and save the last power of the human empire from the quicksand. Once you lose those troops, the empire has no hope, and, your other half of the people, the storm The other half of the kingdom...is there."

"How do you know this?"

In the light of the jungle, Varian glanced at the information recorded on the scroll. If the information on the scroll is true, it means... deep in the desert at the southernmost tip of Kalimdor In the absence of knowledge, the Qiraji people have set a despicable, huge, and terrible trap for the imperial soldiers.

But what makes Varian more puzzled is that the information recorded on this scroll, even in the Dark Blade Legion, is considered top secret. He saw the secret mark of the Dark Blade Intelligence Bureau engraved at the bottom of the scroll, Jean ...How did he get it?

Under Varian’s gaze, the werewolf in front of him gave a mournful laughter. He pulled off his trench coat, lined safari chest, a silver wolf head, and a mixed black broken blade. .

"Let’s meet again, Varian Wrynn, I’m a member of the Forgotten Kings... Jean Greymane, representing Gilneas, you fight for the freedom I have won for me in the arena Meaning, because...I must join this organization."

"why!"

Varian gritted his teeth and asked, while Jean waved his hand lonely, his hoarse voice echoed in the darkness:

"Because only in this way can I leave the empire's last army on the Eastern Continent...and give it to you personally."

"That was the last gift from the Greymane family...Ghost Wolf, that is a legion that only you can control. My only question is, are you willing to accept it? Will you accept this mission to turn the tide?"

"You, are you willing to dedicate everything to the civilization left by your adoptive father and emperor..."

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