Enter World of Warcraft with Dark Skills

Chapter 124: Lament of the Highborne

Ten thousand years ago, the Burning Legion was defeated by the explosion of the Well of Eternity, and the world gained a brief peace.

Because of differences in ideas, a group of high elves, led by Dath'Remar Sunstrider, sailed across the turbulent Endless Sea and arrived at the Eastern Continent.

After many twists and turns, they finally established a magnificent magic civilization in Quel'Thalas. Time passed, and in the blink of an eye, ten thousand years had passed.

Today this great country is about to come to an end.

Sylvanas Windrunner leads the last of her elite rangers to her final battle outside Silvermoon City, the capital of the High Elves.

Endless natural disasters have already broken through the three elven gates. Now they are divided into two groups, one is responsible for attacking Silvermoon City, and the other is responsible for destroying the ranger troops led by Ranger General Sylvanas.

In order to delay the Scourge, Sylvanas led the Farstrider troops to make a final resistance here.

Her subordinates fell one by one, and stood up one by one, becoming her enemies.

The last ranger fell, and now she was alone.

The prince opposite reined in his warhorse, raised his front legs high with invincible comfort, spread his two pitch-black wings wantonly, and the dark energy surged.

The prince looked at the lonely woman in front of him with satisfaction. Now he finally had the same power as him, or even more powerful than him.

"Elf, surrender! I will grant you true death!"

Sylvanas Windrunner stood there, watching the prince fall into darkness. His once golden hair had turned white, and his once vibrant face was now pale.

The only thing that remained unchanged was the stubbornness buried in his bones. She had seen him before. At that time, he was still a young warrior, embraced by the Holy Light.

Every time everyone compares him to that great legend, they will surely be the pillars of the future mankind. One is a great knight, the Grand Marshal of the Alliance. The other is a wise king. They are a perfect match, and they will surely make Lordaeron the most powerful country.

Now one of them died tragically under the siege of demons, and the other fell into darkness.

Things are unpredictable, what can remain unchanged for a thousand years? The high elves have been secluded and even withdrew from the alliance. Now the disaster has come. Who is willing to help us?
The conservative Silvermoon Council only knows how to fight for power among themselves, and for this reason they even let their prince live in Dalaran all year round.

Now her strategy was accomplished. The Rangers used their blood and lives to successfully delay the Scourge. The Mages established a defense line in Silvermoon City.

She will face the leader of the Scourge.

This is a tulip garden, and these beautiful tulips have blossomed into a sea of ​​flowers. The setting sun shines obliquely, and behind her are lush green trees, with the elf-like pointed-roof buildings hidden among them. A gust of wind carries the tulip petals past her eyes, and they are still so harmonious and natural.

In front of her was a strong, pale prince and a hideous natural disaster. Groups of ghouls opened their rotten mouths and drooled, and the huge abomination held high a rusty machete.

A beautiful tulip petal floated past Sylvanas' eyes; the wind of Quel'Thalas carried it toward the prince, and in an instant it turned black, then was frozen by the chill of death, and then turned into powder.

Sylvanas Windrunner pursed her lips and drew her Sunstrider longbow. She shot an arrow at the prince fearlessly. This was her answer.

I am the Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas! My name is Sylvanas Windrunner! I will die here today!
Even if you have thousands of troops; even if you are a demigod; even if I am alone, I will never surrender!
Arthas angrily swung the terrible greatsword Frostmourne to block the magic arrow. He stretched out his left hand towards Sylvanas, and Sylvanas' body was involuntarily pulled towards the prince.

Death Grip!

With the help of Frostmourne's ruling power, the prince also possessed a power close to that of a demigod, a power far superior to that of a legend, a power that even Tyran Fordring had never possessed.

Sylvanas was pulled in front of the prince, and she immediately swung her great bow, using it to block Frostmourne's attack, and at the same time took out a dagger and stabbed the prince.

The prince lightly lifted his sword of sorrow and pushed away the Sunstrider's longbow, then stretched out his armored left hand and grasped the dagger that Sylvanas had chopped at him.

The gauntlet made of Saronite was intact, and the prince took the dagger away with a light pull, then threw it away with disdain.

Sylvanas tried to distance herself with the help of her agility and the power of Windrunner, but the north wind of Northrend made her feel bone-chilling cold. The evil sword of sorrow stabbed her chest mercilessly.

The fierce battle caused the petals of tulips in the garden to explode, and the sunset dyed them blood red.

Sylvanas melted into the blood-red, let this breeze send her off for the last time!
In the distance, the gate of Silvermoon City collapsed, and the once majestic and magnificent magic tower caught fire. The entire country will be reduced to ashes today.

Sylvanas looked at the land she had fought for all her life. The blood, broken swords, battle flags, flames, smoke, corpses, wind, and shouts of killing seemed to play the elegy of the upper elves!
They are silently bidding farewell to this once glorious civilization!

Frostmourne is about to pierce Windrunner's body. This magic sword is hungry, hungry for a powerful soul, hungry for a new tragedy. This magic sword is hungry. Every time it swallows a soul, it becomes stronger, and every time it creates a tragedy, it becomes sharper.

The stream flowed quietly beside the elf hut, and Taelan Fordring watched the battlefield in the distance.

A soft little hand pulled Tyran Fording's big hand, and a clear child's voice said, "Are you okay? Mr. Tyran?"

"You are so young, how do you recognize me?" Taelan Fording squatted down and looked at the little girl.

"You should have asked my name first!"

"Okay, ma'am, can you tell me your name?"

"Emily Dawnseeker!" the little girl said seriously. "My teacher is Liadrin, and she told me that only you can always emit warm holy light!"

Taelan Fording pulled a small handkerchief on his right wrist, where there was a wound. It was a "gift" left to him by Jin Tessa.

The handkerchief was old, but it was clean. On one corner was an embroidered capital letter A.

"You saved me?"

"Yes, you were so heavy that I asked Teacher Liadrin to help me carry you to the bed."

Taelan Fording smiled and said, "You are not even as tall as my sword. It's hard for you!"

The little girl reached out her hand and touched Taelan Fording's cheek. "You are so handsome, just like Prince Kael'thas."

...I don't have pointy ears or an arcane orb.

Not even that!

Taelan Fording stretched out a finger and scratched Emily's little nose.

"Go and inform your teacher, Liadrin. If she agrees to go with me, ask her to gather all the children she can find here and then head south. We are going to Darrowshire!"

"how about you?"

"I have to go and bring back the men who fought for her people!"

Taelan Fordring turned, stuck the Grand Marshal's double-edged sword into the ground, and began to put on his armor.

Emily stood on tiptoe and skillfully helped Taelan Fording put on the armor of judgment and fasten the straps of his cloak.

“Have you done this before?”

The little girl puffed out her chest and said proudly, "Of course! I used to help the teacher put on armor!"

In a flash, she looked depressed again and said, "I guess I won't do that in the future."

"why?"

"She no longer believes in the Holy Light. The Holy Light cannot save us. We can't enter Silvermoon City."

"No one can save us except ourselves!"

"You'll be back, won't you?"

"Yes, I never break a promise."

"Okay! Legends can't lie!"

(End of this chapter)