Azeroth Shadow Trail

   Chapter 1346 96. After get off work, no overtime is allowed!

  The Karabo Temple was very lively this evening. To celebrate the great victory of the Anti-Magic War, the locals held a grand bonfire party here.

Their joy and joy was understandable, after all the dying world of Draenor had begun to rejuvenate, especially after the Cenarion Expedition's Arch Druid Hisari Crow announced that the Everbloom was beginning to grow in life. , both the orcs and the draenei were immersed in the happiness of the rest of their lives.

   Even the world elements came to join in the fun.

   Tonight's shamans, no matter where the group is from, can feel the unusual activity of the elemental power, and even without their request, the elemental took the initiative to help ignite the big bonfire for cheer and pleasure.

The Draenor pirates on the Ashland Peninsula did not know where they got all kinds of wine, and the Draenei took out the reserves of food supplies, and the wanderer Zhou Zhuo, who had no shortcomings except for fighting and cheap hands, was invited. Come be a chef.

   The whole Temple of Karabor became a sea of ​​joy.

  The holy knights who have always been serious are making an exception to drink today, and the young paladins who followed Turalyan to another world quickly lost themselves in the hot style of the passionate hoof girl.

   Less than an hour after the enjoyable feast began, several Paladins were invited out by their fellow draenei vigilantes to "walk around".

   For this ambiguous invitation, Turalyon just pretended not to see it.

   Interfering with other people's enjoyment is to be hated. Don't think that being a paladin will make you immune to "righteous black guns".

   And the great knight is also very sad now, he is thinking that if Lady Alleria is here, in such a warm atmosphere, he will take advantage of the opportunity to propose marriage, maybe this will happen?

  Looking at the appearance of Ronin and Miss Veresa next to each other, hugging each other and spreading dog food, it really makes me unhappy.

   But you don't have to be too envious of these lucky young guys. As far as Turalyon knows, in the current draenei vigilante group, most of the female vigilantes are easily over a thousand years old.

  The draenei are long-lived species, just look at Velen, and once they are blessed by the Holy Light, these draenei can even reach the point of "eternal life".

   So tonight is not a beautiful memory of innocent girls and passionate young people at all, but a group of grandparents who are interested in looking for fresh meat to relieve their cravings.

   But looking at the eagerness of the paladins, it is estimated that they will not care about it.

   In addition to the hoofs being very enthusiastic, the generally serious male draenei also let go of their happiness tonight.

   They took off their armor by the bonfire, naked and wearing only a pair of shorts, and started a small "Jedney Contest" amid the cheers of the drunken warriors.

   This is a way the draenei use to celebrate.

   Looking at these muscular draenei with big shoulders and round waists, they slammed into each other in a taboo-like posture and began to wrestle fiercely. The charm of male hormones was overwhelming.

   made some female human paladins, female mages, and a small group of men have their eyes wandering.

   In addition to these, centaurs and boar mercenaries who survived the tragic war were also invited to the banquet, and they fought too badly in this battle.

   A total of more than 30,000 mercenaries could survive less than 3,000 people. Fortunately, these two races are notoriously heartless and enjoy fighting, otherwise the battle damage ratio alone would be enough to make them collapse on the spot.

  The centaurs, led by their respective prophets, mourned the dead, and then ran to the big dining table where the food was piled up for a vengeful dry meal.

   They have used their sacrifices to exchange rich food rewards for their clansmen, and now it is time for them to enjoy the simple pleasure of victory.

Everyone was very satisfied with the banquet, even Illidari and the death knights came to join in the fun, but these two groups always wandered among the crowd, occasionally "inviting" a few guys out to "play" .

  The good news is that Black's warning was right, and the crowd was indeed mixed with dreadlords who were planning to take advantage of the opportunity.

  The bad news is that all the low-level Nasrezim mixed in the crowd, and the high-level demons who were really powerful enough to evade the detection of demon hunters basically did not appear.

   So rather than deliberately provoking things, this is more like a "dog jumping over the wall" that the dreadlords are unwilling to fail.

   But this news did not make the pirates feel at ease. As a very successful warlock, no one knows the disgusting brown sugar habits of the Nathrezim better than him.

  Once you get stuck on them, it's hard to get rid of them.

   "I'm sure that **** Jin Taisha must be watching me secretly, but I don't know who she will appear as today?"

  Beside the platform of the second-story building of Karabo Temple, the smelly pirate was holding a bottle of wine and complained to Akama beside him:

   "Perhaps you who are drinking with me are the dread witch in disguise? I should poke you twice to see if it's true or not. If you bleed or die, maybe you're the real one."

   "Are all your spellcasters in Azeroth so bold in their authenticity appraisals?"

   The leader of the Grey Tongue Deathsworn, sitting on the edge of the platform, pulled down his hood. This guy who has always been bitter and hated was also surprisingly frank today.

   His eyes from under the hood glanced at the temple of Karabor full of joy, with a nostalgic light in his eyes, and this grand banquet reminded him of old times long gone.

   When he was Archbishop of Carabao, such banquets were occasionally held in this city full of holy light.

   These seem to represent the return of the good old days.

   But his twisted body and arms reminded him that those memories would never reappear in this dark place, and this icy reality awakened Akama from her memories.

   He raised his head and took a sip of wine with a bit of disgust at himself, the spicy taste made him cough.

   even coughed up tears.

   "Cry if you want to, why be so hypocritical?"

Blake next to    said in a cheap tone:

   "What's the shame of weather-beaten old men crying in the dark for all they've lost?

  Especially for someone as 'experienced' as you, a few tears will make you seem more real in the face of the joy of regaining your shrine.

   A heart-warming pirate like me will not laugh at your weakness. "

   "But the smile on your face didn't hide it, you bastard."

   Akama complained.

   But soon, the leader of the Broken One raised his head and looked at the unique reflection belonging to the world of Argus in the night sky that was especially clear tonight.

   After a few seconds, Akama suddenly said:

   "Just an hour ago, those chieftains of Kroku, who had followed Illidan Stormrage to Draenor, came to see me in secret.

   Our ancient brethren who remain in our homeland extend an invitation to me and all the Broken in Draenor, all draenei xenomorphs twisted by suffering, and Hatton thinks we should unite.

   And we the Broken are too weak compared to his decisiveness and proud self-identity. "

   Akama hesitated.

   He seemed to seek advice, sipping wine from his toothy mouth, and said to Black:

   "Old Chief Hatton didn't think being the Broken was a disaster at all, he even took pride in it, and he saw the form of the Broken as a symbol of the broken and twisted world of Argus.

   That is the glory of their ancient remnants who stayed in their homeland and fought for more than 20,000 years, so Hatton trusts us more than the draenei and Velen.

   He saw us as fellow countrymen who truly loved our homeland.

   He invited us and his krokus to return to Argus to continue the fight.

  Blake, I have no doubts in your wisdom now, what do you think we should do with this invitation? "

   "Hey, you need money to ask for help."

  Blake squinted his eyes and said:

   "I did Velen a little favor in the afternoon, but he gave me a very generous reward. You asked me to predict the fate, why should you express it?"

   "You're good at everything, but this greedy appetite is disgusting."

   Akama said in a gloomy voice:

   "You can take whatever we have, I need a suggestion right now."

   "Then I'll tell you, don't rush to make a decision."

  Black snorted, pointed to the sky, and said:

   "Although the world of Argus was pulled by Illidan into the stars within easy reach of Draenor, the road to that world has now been cut off.

  You can only rely on the draenei to repair their ships and carry you back across the sea of ​​stars.

  So, it's not a good idea to have a complete fallout with the draenei now, and besides, I also know something about the situation on the old Hatton's side. They lived a really hard life in Krokuun.

   In contrast, you broken ones in the world of Draenor can at least be fed and clothed. Old Hatton's initiative to come to you is not an invitation to return to Argus, Akama.

   You should be sharper. "

   the pirate said in a low voice;

   "He is testing your attitude towards them. The Kroku tribe can survive in the suffering Argus until now, and all of them are human beings.

  I believe in their strong feelings for their hometown, and I also believe that they are willing to give everything for Argus, but look at that world, even with the naked eye, you can see that the world has fallen apart.

   That is not a suitable place to live.

  Any leader with some brains will not choose to die there, provided they have a better choice. "

   Akama's eyes lit up, he blinked and said:

   "So, old Hatton actually wants us to accept them? Instead of annexing us?"

   "Probably so."

The pirate snapped his fingers and said:

   "You can try it out, anyway, Shadowmoon Valley has been reshaped now, and the Ashtongue Deathsworn has taken back the Temple of Karabor. Although it is to be shared with Illidari, the city is big enough.

   Enough to accommodate Kroku's old, weak and sick, and give the warriors a place to rest.

   The world is reborn, my Akama.

  Draenor belongs not only to the Orcs and Draenei, it belongs to the Broken, you can build a new home here, and every night you look up and see your homeworld.

   You swore to save it.

   But this does not conflict with your living well in the new world.

   Or even more prosperous and better Azeroth.”

   Black grinned, and he stretched his voice and said:

   "After all, Argus is no longer fit for survival. You, Velen, Nuboton, and even the stubborn Maraad should understand this cruel reality.

  Saving the home planet is more of an obsession than a necessity for you.

  People need ideals to support themselves to survive, but people also need to eat and drink, sleep and fall in love. These activities are difficult to complete in Argus.

   The last time Nobleton came to me to predict the fate of the Broken, didn't I tell you?

  You can become the king of the Broken in Argus, and you can also leave some people there to live and miss the past.

   But for the Broken Clan to thrive, it always needs a place to feed you.

   Okay, I'm my suggestion, I'm going to get paid next. "

  The pirate coughed and whispered to Akama:

   "Activate the city's defenses and block the inner shrine of Karabor"

   "Huh? What are you doing?"

   Akama shuddered instantly, and he looked at Black.

   The latter shrugged, drank the wine in his hand, burped comfortably, and said to the Broken:

   "I'm going to do something bad to please myself.

   When someone asks, they tell them that this is a mistake by the Ashtongue Deathsworn when cleaning the palace. It doesn’t take me long, ten minutes is enough. "

   "You'd better converge."

   Akama stood up and said to the drunken Black:

   "There are so many strong people here, it's not going to end well if you really do something terrible."

   "You seem to guess what I'm going to do."

  The pirate blinked and said:

   "You're such a clever little bastard. According to the tradition of pirates, I should kill you now before you leak your secrets and make a joke. I don't really care what other people think.

   Do me a favor and go to work, okay? "

After    sent Akama away, Blake stretched fiercely in place, looked back at the happy banquet below, he grinned, took a step back and disappeared into the gentle shadow of the night.

   A few minutes later, as the internal defenses of Karabor Temple were "accidentally activated" by a clumsy Breaker warrior, all the doors leading to the inner temple were closed.

   This movement alerted the Great Druid Deer Helmet, who was guarding important things in the inner hall, and a group of draenei undead who had cultivated here. On the altar behind them is a large sword box made of living wood.

   That is the tree of life taken from the Everbloom Woods, and only this kind of thing can prevent the terrible corrosion of the magic sword Frostmourne to any life.

   But even if it was blocked by the Tree of Life, the gloomy aura that belonged to death continued to escape.

   "Everyone is happy outside, why don't you get involved? Choosing to be a misfit child is not the right attitude to life.

   I mean, even the undead have to pretend to be lively, right? "

  Black walked out of the drifting shadows, wearing a pirate costume and holding a pipe, drunkenly looking at the Great Druid Deer Helmet and the vigilant undead in front of him.

   Facing his question, the leader of the draenei undead, who had just become a death knight but was still weak because of Frostmourne, answered in a hoarse voice:

   "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Black, but no happiness belongs to the dead, and the living don't share our emotions, we just think they're noisy."

   "Well, there must be something wrong with the way you find joy."

   Black spit out.

   He crossed the expressionless Great Druid Deer Helmet under the gaze of the undead, walked to the altar, and put his hand on the Frostmourne sword box that was sealed by living wood.

   His hair seemed to be blown by the escaping breath of death.

   As the cold light illuminated his blue eyes, he whispered:

   "Thank you for your hard work, thank you for guarding this sword and don't allow anyone to approach, you have done your job well, your attitude is worthy of praise

   Ladies and gentlemen, you can get off work, go out and do something to please yourself.

   Next, I'll take care of all the troubles Frostmourne brings. "

   (end of this chapter)