Azeroth Shadow Trail

   Chapter 111 21. Evil Guest

   Black and his crew landed in the Zandalari Land, called Nazmir.

   Don't look at this jungle now in ruins, full of decay, death and darkness, but 16,000 years ago, it was the center of the glory of the troll civilization.

   In the world of Azeroth, the first wise primordial beings were born here.

  It was abandoned due to a disaster called the blood plague, and the corrupted blood trolls also came because of it, but behind the blood plague, there is a terrifying secret.

   is not the only secret in this land.

   In short, the Nazmir jungle is already a bad place, it can be called a **** of suffering, but compared with this palace of death deep in the jungle

  The rotting jungle outside and the cannibal barbarians in it are as beautiful as heaven.

  Black has never been to Hell.

   At least he hasn't been in the real world, but he has now walked into Bwonsamdi's Netherworld, holding a lantern, shrouded in pale light, allowing him to step over the curtain that isolates the living.

   As soon as you enter this land of death, there is a chill in your soul.

  The pirate looked left and right.

   The Nether Palace at this point in time was not as decadent and desolate as he remembered it. At least the buildings didn't collapse too much, but they looked in disrepair for a long time, as if they would collapse if touched.

   The soil under his feet was cold, and he could vaguely see the weathered bones half buried in the soil, as well as some troll ghosts reaching out from the soil.

   They are mutilated.

  I don't know why they were dismembered.

  Some only have a palm left, some have only a head, and some have nothing left, but you can just hear its wailing.

   is like deliberately torturing people.

   Bwonsamdi's Hades Temple is not very large. From where Blake stands, you can see it at a glance, but this place is very strange, and there is no one around.

   This is not normal.

   Bwonsamdi is still a loa no matter how lonely or unpopular he is.

   It has its own priest.

   But Black didn't see the shadows of the priests of death here at all.

   This fully shows that Bwonsamdi doesn't welcome him as a guest, he doesn't plan to show up at all, and he doesn't even send a servant. It's really disrespectful.

  Blake pouted and continued forward with the spirit lamp in hand, walking across the desolate stone bridge. Under the bridge were a group of suffering troll souls, who were wailing and cursing endlessly.

   But the pirates simply ignore them.

  Beyond the Hades, there is an underground square that looks like an arena. In the past, there should be troll ghosts from all over the world gathering here, waiting for the judgment of the **** of death.

   But today it is equally empty.

   He turned his head and looked back, in the dark and gloomy dark square, beside the stone pillars that were about to collapse, there were still pale troll souls walking blankly toward the Hades.

   is a considerable amount.

   Not only the straight-backed Zandalar trolls, but also the trolls of other clans in other parts of the world who are always hunched over.

   Bwonsamdi is the **** of death.

  Theoretically all trolls have their souls to come to them after they die.

  It is not as particular as Hela, and it also specially made a ghost ship to pick up those ghosts.

  Old Bwonsamdi was ruthless towards his followers.

   It allows them to use their feet to cross the path of the soul, from far away, across the world, to the **** of death. As for whether those weak spirits will dissipate halfway, this is not a question that old Bwonsamdi will care about.

   Anyway, trolls have always respected the value of "survival of the fittest".

   "Then shall I come in?"

  Blake was holding a soul-inducing lamp, and stood alone in front of the road to the main hall of the Hades. He raised the lamp in his hand, and lit it left and right, but did not find any hidden spirits.

   As if this place has long since been abandoned.

   He shouted aloud, and there were echoes of emptiness. The pirates stood there and waited for a few seconds, but no Bwonsamdi priest or Death Sword Guard rushed to beat him.

  He carried the lamp with confidence and boldly, and walked to the main hall of the Underworld.

   It is said to be a palace, but in fact it is as dilapidated as the outside, and it is shrouded in the force of death that penetrates deep into the building, making this place gloomy, and this is not a place where the living can come.

  The interior decoration is very old, and there is no luxury gold utensils, as if it was robbed by bandits.

   One poor and two white.

The simplicity of    made the pirates almost cry.

   From this point of view, Bwonsamdi is really quite a clean loa, and it does not ask believers to pay tribute to the luxury items adorned with jewels.

  Hey, Dazarori, the city of gold, the loa who wear gold and silver, and adorn their bodies with jewels! Learn from people!

   It's you, the shameless Great Devilsaur Rezan!

  Do you know how many pirates can get rich overnight by removing those gold foil gemstones inlaid on your huge body?

   But the poor return to the poor.

   Only when you really step into the inner hall of the temple can you see the majesty of the **** of death.

  Blake stood on the steps at the edge of the inner hall, looking down.

   Below the temple is like a stream of light like an abyss, and like the blood moon outside the palace, it floats with that kind of burning power.

   is like separating life and death.

   Hela's death power is pale, like the salt-foaming sea water when despair is suffocating.

   And Bwonsamdi's power is intertwined with red and blue, like the world when his eyes are blocked by blood, and like the light when his soul is burning.

   "I brought you a present."

  Black held the lantern in his hand, and Gul'dan's soul roared and struggled within it.

  The Great Warlock once again felt that his end was approaching.

   "I originally planned to dedicate this dark soul to Hela, but then I thought, that female lunatic wouldn't favor me just because I gave her something good.

   I also don't want to tie my future to a lunatic.

   After thinking about it, I think the old Bwonsamdi is more reliable, so I came to you, hello! Why don't you show up and have a chat with me? "

  Blake's voice echoed in this temple.

   He could hear his own echo clearly, but he could not get any answer.

   "Don't you like to make deals with others the most? You trade your mojo to those who need it, and then at some point ask them to pay back multiple times in return.

  You are not the same as Hela.

  You are cunning, vicious, cruel, wise, prudent. You trade with people all over the stars and beyond.

  You even made deals with the spirits of the Shadowlands"

  The pirate was lying on the steps, shaking the pale lantern in his hand, as if he was baiting the fish in the sea, he said:

   "Can't you give me a deal too? Bwonsamdi! Answer me."

   There has been no response, making Blake a little impatient.

   He has been waiting for death.

   He knew Bwonsamdi was here.

   But the cunning troll, Reaper, guessed his purpose, and was stubbornly reluctant to show up.

  Habloon kept saying that Bwonsamdi was afraid of Hela and would never help Black, the betrayer of hell.

   But Black knew more.

   Bwonsamdi is not afraid of Hela.

   It is afraid of another **** of death.

   "Do you really want me to say that forbidden name in your temple? If you don't help me, in desperation, I can only find it!"

  Black looked at the swaying ocean of death below the steps of the inner hall. On it, he could see the souls turned into human faces, screaming in pain, but could not make a sound.

   Those painful faces appeared more and more, which seemed to represent a kind of warning, a kind of urging.

   Hurry up!

   Old Bwonsamdi does not welcome you!

   "That is the **** of death, the son of time, the sleeping father, the friend of the night."

  The pirate used non-standard troll language to say one by one priesthood and title, and with each one he said, the sea of ​​death intertwined with red and blue below boiled a little.

   represents Bwonsamdi's mood swings.

   From consternation to anger.

   and finally to disgust and hostility.

   This emotional change triggered the changes around the entire Nether Palace. The wind was blowing, all souls roared, and black smoke rose up around the originally empty Nether Palace.

  The weathered and decayed masks of various colors hanging on the buildings around the Hades as decorations began to fill them with blue aura.

   They began to vibrate, sway, and eventually infused with the power of death into twisted death swordsmen.

  There are only vain upper bodies, like a mixture of humans and spiders, and auras form decaying cloaks behind them, and those masks are their faces.

   They roared, suspended in mid-air, carrying troll-style death swords, and rushed towards the hall of the Underworld Temple.

   Bwonsamdi grew impatient.

  Since the evil guest is unwilling to go, old Bwonsamdi doesn't mind entertaining him and will stay in this place forever.

Um.

  Speaking of which, the underworld is full of troll souls, which is a bit too monotonous. One more daring human might make this place more lively.

   "It is the master of the other world! The oldest **** of death in the shape of gravel! The great illusion of the shadow world! Oath to engulf Azeroth's death Loa. It is Musara Antyn!"

  Black felt the death power surging behind him. It was another power that was different from Hela's crazy power. It was an interpretation of death, but it was subtly different.

   He also ignored the weird structures behind him that only existed in the nightmare of the soul, those icy sword guards of death who were good at fighting.

   He called out that forbidden name in Bwonsamdi's Hades Palace:

   "That's your father! Your enemy! Your destroyer and coercion! Your betrayer and devourer, who should have chosen you, but chose Hela's tyrant instead."

   "That's Muezala, King of the Dead! Death, Death!"

   "Enough! You villain!"

   When the name was finally uttered, a deafening scolding finally sounded in the temple of the Underworld.

   As that voice emerged, the Death Sword Guard, who was slashing behind Black, also stopped.

   The blood moon is getting brighter and brighter at night.

   In Black's gaze, a strangely dressed troll, Loa, finally slowly rose from the boiling sea of ​​death below.

   The illusion it chooses at this time is not tall, just like a normal troll.

  Jing has a naked upper body, blue-purple chest and waist with white lines, a decoration composed of twisted and sinuous white bones on the back, and a necklace made of animal teeth and skulls on his neck.

  A tattered red and black robe wrapped around his waist, covering his lower body.

   There are also greaves decorated with bones on both legs.

  Because it is the **** of death, the illusory body is covered with stitches, and some bones are exposed under the skin, and the six fingers of both hands have been completely turned into bones.

   and its face.

   The chin still has flesh, the upper half of the face is completely bone, the eyes exude blue soul fire, the two white fangs protrude from the mouth, and the troll's iconic sharp long ears.

  The most peculiar thing is its hair.

   Black, very lush.

   is like living hair, long but not curved.

  Like a head of anti-gravity hair that pierces the sky, this "hair" brings dark humor and cynicism to the troll Reaper.

   It looked angry.

   It was suspended in front of Blake, and the probe brought the cheek that looked like a bone mask close to it, the fire of the soul in his eyes shone, and stared fiercely at the human in front of him.

   It stretched out its sharp, boney fingers and tapped at Blake's heart.

   With just a little effort, you can pierce the heart of a pirate.

   In a hoarse, languid, always elongated tone that always sounds like a laugh and a perpetual sarcasm, it says:

   "Why are you so annoying! You see old Bwonsamdi emptying the Hades and driving away all the noisy priests, you should know that I don't welcome you.

  You want to make a deal with old Bwonsamdi?

  No no no! "

   It straightened up, waved its hands, and raised its waist again, exaggeratingly said:

   "Old Bwonsamdi only deals with big men in the city of gold, and people who won't cause me trouble. You, you are not big men, and you are a troublemaker who knows a lot of secrets.

let's go.

  Old Bwonsamdi won't make a deal with you, so he won't give you a taste of the magic spirit that belongs to me.

  Hella is a lunatic.

   If poor old Bwonsamdi accepted you, she would rush to tear down my Hades. Look at my broken place, it's been demolished again, and I can't afford to build it again. "

   Troll Reaper had a sincere smile on his terrifying face.

  It hovered above Blake's head and said to him condescendingly:

   "What a pity, my friend.

   The last **** who can help you, rejected you.

You are dead.

  Ahahahaha, it's so sad to see you so unlucky, old Bongsandi

   Well, I'm pretending!

Ha ha ha ha. "

   (end of this chapter)