Stratholme God

   Chapter 759 Wuling Hongguang (1 more)

"Talent?" The plague messenger North is a mage with a strange appearance. He was an uncle in his fifties before his death. He painted his face with purple and black oil paint like bat wings, and two hemp flower braids hanging down on his face. on the collarbone.

Kel'Thuzad nodded: "Yes! Talent! Those stupid peasants are not qualified to promote the times. Even if they join the Scourge, they are only worthy of being cannon fodder. Only heroes with strong physique and extraordinary wisdom are qualified to enjoy eternity. life. Our biggest mistake before was not pulling Alsace and McDonald's into the arms of death."

  Kel'Thuzad is a typical elitist, and he immediately discussed the recent achievements of the two at length to prove his point of view.

   sounded a bit strange, but North and Shirgay, who were attacking, nodded frequently.

   This is the doctrine of the Cult of the Damned, that eternal life, that is, the undead, is noble. Only the most elite mortals are eligible to be part of them, and the rest of the undead are just cannon fodder.

   North asked: "But, we don't have much chance to start now! The heroes of the living often bring a large number of followers when they come and go, and the entire territory of the Stratholme Federation is covered by artillery."

  Shirgay followed: "The chess pieces of the Cult of the Damned in the living are almost cleaned up."

  Kel'Thuzad's eyes flickered: "The opportunity is created by myself..."

   This day, Hillsbrad Hills.

  As the commander-in-chief of the army stationed here, Alexandros Mograine has been patrolling various military camps throughout the region with his own guards for several years.

   Compared to riding a car, he still prefers to ride a horse.

   Times have changed, and he has no objection to his subordinates riding in the car. Of course, the formation is also relatively large. Generally, there are no less than 5,000 people traveling. There are often 50 tanks and more than 100 various self-propelled artillery or armored vehicles.

   "Now we are likely to be attacked by two gangs of bones, and we must not be careless." Lao Mo is actually not too old. Now he is in his forties and in his prime.

  At the moment when the main hero group of the alliance went to Silithus, as the remaining general, he paid more attention to the defense of Hillsbrad Hills.

   It is gratifying that the second and third generations of generals of the alliance have begun to be cultivated.

  Especially Garithers, the harlequin in history, after a circle, actually became one of Lao Mo's deputy, which is very interesting.

  Without the radicalism and discrimination against high elves in the past, Garithers has not grown crooked much in this life. His commanding ability is actually above the standard, and as a result, he is now appointed by Lao Mo as the commander-in-chief of the [Defense Line against Alterac].

   inspected, Lao Mo was very satisfied with Garithers' preparations.

Garithers himself decided to dig five deep and long tank trenches in the direction of Alterac, and also preset a lot of diesel barrels. Once the Scourge is playing the corpse sea tactics, this can be a good defense against ordinary skeleton soldiers. And the charge of zombies.

   In addition, the tiered setting of Spitfire tanks, conventional tanks and artillery is quite reasonable, taking into account the tiered arrangement of anti-aircraft firepower.

   With the excellent shift system, Garithers' preparations were impeccable.

   Everything was normal. When old Mograine returned to his temporary camp, he suddenly saw a short sword. He was stunned on the spot.

   "My lord, what's wrong?" The guard noticed Lao Mo's strangeness.

   "It's alright, you guys go out, I want to be quiet." Screening back his men, Lao Mo picked up the short sword on his camp bed, his eyes blurred.

   That was what he gave to his eldest son, Renault.

   For a time, countless memory pictures flooded into my mind.

  From a baby waiting to be fed, to a half-human tall man practicing martial arts with a wooden sword, to a half-old child who can ride a colt, to a young talent wearing armor and fighting the enemy.

   Once, he had high expectations for it and at the same time taught him very harshly.

   Just as his father taught him.

The bigger the    Reno, the more rebellious he was.

  He stopped Renault from liking his adopted daughter, which became the fuse for the break between father and son.

  Reno is dead, in the battle of Silverpine Forest to prove his innocence. According to the report of his personal guard arranged by him, Reynolds died very disgracefully.

  Although McDonald helped him cover up the past afterward and gave Renault a 'valiant death' certificate, Lao Mo knew that his son had betrayed him.

   This has also become his eternal pain.

   If it wasn't for Darian's excellence, which somewhat healed the wounds in his heart, he would be even more miserable.

   He pulled out the dagger from the holster, and saw a line of words: [If you still want to get back Renault's soul, you will arrive at XXX at 12 o'clock tonight, and you are only allowed to bring no more than ten guards]!

  Old Mograine's pupils shrunk to the size of the tip of a pencil, and his breathing became rapid.

  …

   At the same time, in Naxxramas.

  Nos asked Shirgai: "Do you think Mograine will be tricked?"

  Shirgai: "It's hard to say. The adults are very good at attacking the weaknesses of the opponent's human nature. This in itself is a temporary test..."

   "He will come." The high lich grinned, his jaws empty, but everyone could feel Kel'Thuzad laughing: "I can sense the struggle in his soul."

   "We don't have Raynor's soul." North wondered.

   "It's not important, the key is that Alexandros thinks we have it, and that's enough." The smugness in Lao Ke's voice could hardly be concealed.

  Twelve o'clock in the middle of the night, on the west side of Tarren Mill, across the road and near the mountains.

   In order to reserve more tactical space, the open space here was abandoned after Naxxramas entered the Alterac Mountains. Countless gun muzzles are aimed at this side, but there is no one.

   A van with a special shape for the general public is driving on a relatively flat field.

   For some reason, the red reflective logo of [Wuling Hongguang] on the corner of the rear door of the car looks very special under the reflection of the headlights.

  The car stopped, Lao Mo, dressed in military uniform, got out of the car with two guards, leaving a driver in the car.

   "I am Alexandros Mograine - here we come! Sneaky guy! Hand over my son's soul!" The old duke's roar resounded through the mountains.

   "Hey hey hey, Your Excellency the Duke is indeed a believer." North and Shirgai walked out from behind a big tree with five people hugging each other.

   At the same time, the surrounding earth was shaking, and countless undead crawled out of the ground.

  Two tunnels opened, and there were hundreds of death knights riding undead horses, and there were no less than twenty haters in the dark tunnels. In the rapid sound of horses' hooves, Lao Mo and the nervous guards who drew their swords and drew their swords were surrounded by groups.

   "Still be careful with that car." Shirgay reminded North to pay attention to the van.

   North glanced at the car behind Lao Mo and spat in disdain: How many people can be hidden in this little broken car?

   (end of this chapter)