MTL - Azeroth Shadow Trail-Chapter 43 42. Human head and dog

   Chapter 43 42. Head and Dog

   "This is the last sniper arrow I can shoot. I originally aimed at Old Dahl's head, but hitting the devil is not a miss."

   is below the valley.

   The pale-faced Halduron Brightwing shoved the bow in Maris's hand.

   He was a little embarrassed, turned his head to the three young people beside him and a timid little dwarf who was riding on a strange mechanical bird and said:

   "I can only help you here, the rest is up to you!"

to be frank.

   A high-level ranger, it is a bit unreasonable to miss at such an important moment.

   But considering the fact that he was being bound tightly at the moment, no one could blame Halduron for losing his hand as far as the unconscious orc swordsman was thrown at Halduron's feet.

   Just now, this ranger had a real Juggernaut! And Halduron Mingyi's thighs are not even as thick as this half-orc Juggernaut's arm!

   And Blake could see clearly when he was shooting with his bow.

   This ranger's arms are trembling. For a high-level ranger who has been trained for hundreds of years, this trembling is a huge mistake at any time.

   Unless, he really has fought to the limit.

  The elven chain armor on Mingyi's body was completely cut open, and the ranger's chest had a wound that rolled outwards. As long as it was deflected a few inches, his heart would be cut open.

   And except for this bow, all the weapons in his hand were destroyed in the battle with the flaming sword Saint Lantereso.

  No one can ask him to do better.

   "Kelsey, you protect Brightwing!"

  Black didn't hesitate, and said something to the little pink-haired dwarf on the mechanical bird that was humming and looking like it was going to explode at any moment, and black smoke was coming out of the exhaust pipe.

   He grabbed the master blade of the Orc Juggernaut on the ground and threw it to Maris, who was crippled beside him, who took it in his hand and clenched his hands tightly.

   As a ranger, Maris is adept at wielding this two-handed sword, although he does not like such a heavy weapon.

  Short took out three bottles of red potions from his luggage and threw them to Black and Maris. He twisted one bottle and drank it like drinking.

   That smell must be bad, just look at Shore's twitching face.

   But this potion is definitely a good thing.

  Black twisted it away and poured the potion into his mouth while running towards the direction where Old Dahl fell!

   "There is light shining!"

   Maris, who had the best eyesight, pointed to the old swordsman in front of him and fell to the ground, and shouted, the retching Black and Shaw looked up at the same time, and saw green light shining in the woods ahead.

   That is fel light, the magic of warlocks.

   "Prepare sniper arrows!"

  Black tore off the tidal charm on his chest, and without turning his head, he threw out the hook, grabbed Shaw and rushed forward. Under his roar, Maris immediately braced himself.

   raised the bow that Mingyi had given him, and drew the last two arrows from the quiver behind him.

   "Shore, we're going to work hard."

   At the moment of landing, Blake turned his head to the serious Mathias Shore and said:

   "This time we may really die, and there may be a great warlock ahead."

   "Tonight, are we still working hard?"

  Shore finally smiled for the first time.

   This guy grinned, revealing the standard eight teeth, he held the double blade in his backhand, jumped into the shadow, and at the moment of disappearing, he said:

   "It's an honor to fight alongside you, Orc Killer!"

   "I'm not honored at all."

  Black moved his neck and jumped into the shadows. Holding the Tide Charm in his hand, he threw out the hook again and jumped forward, and said softly:

   "I still have too much to do, I won't be here."

   In the forest ahead.

  The green fel fire is burning, like steel shaped by high temperature. Under the control of God, the violent, corrosive magic power is bent into an oval door.

   It is also surrounded by evil decorations like sheep bones, which of course are just magical effects.

   But the warlocks like to play this kind of tricks to express their "evil" and "not easy to mess with", but the essence of this thing is actually borrowed from the portals of the mages.

  Because hot-tempered fel energy is far less manipulative than order-side arcane mana, the warlocks' shadow portals teleport back and forth very short distances.

   A few hundred meters is the limit.

   To be honest, in addition to consuming less magic power, this is a very tasteless magic.

   But now, this tasteless magic has become the death knight's best means of retrieving the spoils. He rides on the saddle of a warhorse that has been stripped of flesh by shadow magic, leaving only the skeleton.

  Like the villain, he walked out of the Shadow Gate with his steel scepter in his hand.

   is followed by his four follower warlocks.

   Originally there were five, and a hapless one was given away as a sacrifice when he summoned the Doomsday Guard, but the death knight didn't feel bad about it at all.

   Outstanding warlocks are hard to find, but these second-rate scumbags are abundant in the Shadow Council. They are cannon fodder that he can sacrifice at will.

   And even if he witnessed a companion being sacrificed as cannon fodder just now, the remaining four warlocks still "will not leave" their superiors.

   They believe in a cruel value.

   believes that the weak are not worth caring about. Only those who survive are the strong ones. No matter what the reason for their death, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, they are weak when they die!

   And they survived.

   So they are strong!

   At least until the next time they are sent away for some inexplicable hellish reason, they are strong!

   These are all madmen whose heads were burned by fel energy!

   The guy who is now taking these brain-burned warlocks to find the loot is the leader of all the death knights the tribe currently has.

   His name was Tarongol, and he was a disciple of the great warlock Gul'dan.

   He should have a bright future, especially in the early stage of the invasion of the world of Azeroth, after the Shadow Council emptied the first Great Chief Black Hand, the Shadow Council warlocks are the real powers of the entire tribe.

   But a pity.

   This state of affairs, which is under control, has a little problem in the middle.

   Gul'dan, driven by his inner greed, sought some power he should not have sought, causing the great warlock to be in a coma for a period of time, during which time the interior of the tribe was turned upside down.

   Blackhand, the puppet warchief, was killed one-on-one by the challenger of the Blackrock clan, his former comrade and brother, Orgrim Doomhammer, in the ancient duel of glory, Mac' Gora.

   is a decent ending for the disgraced warchief who has no brute force but no wisdom.

   But Orgrim had an old love for his former brother, but he killed the Shadow Council commanded by Gul'dan.

   These warlocks died without complaint. After all, they were the culprits who destroyed the Orcs' homeworld of Draenor. They were the masters of the Orc tragedy by the demons of the Burning Legion far away in the stars.

  Talongor died in this internal purge.

   He was killed by his own people.

The humiliation of    death is incomparable.

   But now, he is alive.

   was awakened from death by the evil mentor Gul'dan who escaped from Orgrim with his own rhetoric, and also got a new name that deceives people, called "Gorefiend".

   "Bring him here!"

   Gorefiend walked out of the gate of shadows from the top of the mountain to the valley, and at a glance, he saw the old Dahl. Triple blood blade lying in a pool of blood not far away.

   That old orc is still awake, which is rare.

   But he no longer had the strength to swing his sword, but he was still holding his own blazing blade in his hand. The still-burning sword seemed to be protecting his master.

   The elemental fire on it rose more violently as the warlocks approached.

   This made a glint of greed flash in the shriveled eyes of the onlookers.

   "The legendary weapon of the Burning Blade Clan, the flaming blade Sank'su that only the true Supreme Juggernaut is qualified to wield, it is the legend of Draenor!

   is the same as the Doomhammer in the hands of Orgrim and Gorehowl in the hands of Grom Hellscream.

   is not just old Dahl's body.

   His weapon will also belong to me, and I will transform it into a death blade, a death blade that belongs only to me, and that will be my new source of power.

   In the end, even Gul'dan will kneel before me! "

   The death knight who liked to think too much couldn't bear the joyful imagination in his heart. He watched the four warlocks lift old Dahl from the headless dread demon corpse and walked towards him.

  The Gorefiend couldn't help but let out a hoarse and decadent laughter, and the old Dahl, who was sober but unable to fight, had despair in his eyes at this time.

   He is not afraid of death!

   But now, after seeing the Gorefiend appear with his own eyes, the old warrior realizes that he will face more terrible torture and humiliation than death.

   I knew this earlier, I should have died in the battle with Muradin and Pasonia just now.

   At least he will die as a warrior.

   At least that way, he will die with some glory.

   Although, he has long been unworthy of the word glory.

  The loyal old swordsman Jubeier thought he was saving his chief, but he didn't know that his loyalty would send old Dar into a situation where life was worse than death.

   His soul will fall into the hands of soul-playing warlocks.

   His body will also be desecrated into weapons by these disgusting dogs, and even the glorious blazing blade Sanksu, the heritage relic of the flaming blade, will be shamed for this.

   "The little thing that hides its head and shows its tail, come out!"

After    Gorefiend was transformed into a death knight, his strength was not as powerful as it used to be, but he was still a strong man, even when he was proud, he did not lose his perception of his surroundings.

   After sensing the shadow, he waved his scepter, and a warlock magic blasted behind him, forcing the approaching Shaw out of the shadow, and the young assassin wanted to charge.

   But amid Gorefiend's savage laughter, a green magic hit Shaw, causing the assassin to scream and run away.

   Fear.

   The masterpiece of a warlock.

   But it's not over yet.

   "Whoosh"

The assassination arrow    flew straight towards the Gorefiend, but the death knight didn't care, he raised his head carelessly and "caught" it, like a random arrow.

  The arrow pierced the Gorefiend's head.

But it didn't hurt the Gorefiend's soul at all. The latter laughed and raised his scepter. He swung it down fiercely. A green light entwined with death rushed out of the woods and hit Maris, knocking him away. go out.

   But these two are just targets to distract the blood demon.

  The real assassin.

   "Om"

   In the center of the four orc warlocks, the roar of the tide erupted like a phantom sound, and the four warlocks were stunned at the same time, and Black, who was holding a blade fist, broke out of the shadows with an indifferent face.

   was falling on Old Dahl's body.

   He looked at the old swordsman. As he guessed, the tidal spell had no effect on the legendary swordsman with extraordinary body.

   But at this moment, Black could see clearly.

   Old Dahl's eyes changed from astonishment to calmness, and at the last moment, there was even a kind of prayer.

kill him!

   He is begging Black, the orc killer, to kill him!

   Give him the last respect!

   He would rather die at the hands of human beings as enemies, and return his soul to his hometown in the name of dying in battle.

   also does not want to fall into the hands of the dogs of the Shadow Council, to be played with souls and humiliated with remains.

"as you wish."

   As a response, in the roar of the Gorefiend, between the eruption of fel energy, Black clasped the blade fist with both hands, half-knelt on Old Dahl's chest, and pierced down fiercely.

   "Poof"

  The blood of the warriors spewed out.

   (end of this chapter)