Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 148 47. Since ancient times, divine artifacts have been owned by virtuous people. Warlock, do you think you are a virtuous person?

"Swish"

The wings of the sun, wrapped in flames, carried Diakum to the strange oasis in the wilderness. After landing with exaggerated lighting effects, Diakum saw Rexxar sitting on a stone with a painful look on his face, applying ointment to his hunting partner, the dire wolf Halaza.

The huge Sun Raven stood beside Rexxar with its wings folded, making strange and angry noises.

Not far from this man and his two pets, at the edge of the forest, there was a huge "giant tree man" lying on the ground.

"Simplified version of the Ancient War Tree? When did it come?"

When Diakum saw the familiar thing, he was politely shocked in his heart.

This giant tree man that was just killed by Rexxar really looks like the iconic "war behemoth unit" in the Shadow Elf Moon Kingdom.

It is simply an ancient tree rising from the ground, with roots and branches forming its legs, vines turning into destructive arms, and the huge shade of the tree is its helmet. The attack power of this thing may not be as good as that of the Goron, but its durability is probably much more exaggerated than that of the Goron.

The latter is at least a creature of flesh and blood, but this tree man feels no pain at all.

"It's rare to see a beast speaker like you suffer such a setback. Theoretically, you can communicate with all things in the wilderness, so why are you in such a mess?"

Diakum stepped forward to check on the howling dire wolf, Harasa, and found that the loyal beast had a broken leg and showed signs of poisoning. He stretched out his hand to call for the warm holy light to heal it, and then looked at Rexxar who looked helpless.

To be honest, if he didn't wear his iconic wolf-skin "Batman" helmet, Rexxar's face, which is a hybrid of ogre and orc, would always look a little silly.

But Harasa will definitely not encounter the conspiracy of the Shadow Council in this timeline, and the dire wolf can live for a long time. According to the orcs' habit of peeling the skins of dead dire wolves to make protective gear, it is estimated that Rexxar will have to wait for forty to fifty years to become the "Orc Batman".

By then, wouldn’t the daylily be cold?
Just as the Sentinel was thinking about whether to help Rexxar get his "classic skin" back, Rexxar said hoarsely in response to his question:

"My ability to communicate has failed. All the lives in this forest refuse to communicate with me, and they are very hostile. I can hear them insulting me, cursing me, and even wanting to kill me.

It's dangerous here, Sentinel.

Even a blade of grass or a vine is eager to kill something, and lives like ours are their most hated targets.

I can't understand where this hatred comes from, but it's obvious."

He glanced at the giant tree man that almost crushed his dire wolf to death, shook his head and said:

“It’s impossible for us to enter the center of the woodland peacefully, but the good news is that based on Ruklan’s adventurous reconnaissance, I can confirm that the passage in the center of the woodland leads to a hidden area.

The vitality there was so strong that it made me feel flustered, and so violent that it made me feel uneasy.

Even... I rarely felt fear!

That is not normal life force, it is not gentle nature at all, it is even more dangerous than the devil."

"That's right."

Diakum cast healing magic on Halaza to help it heal its broken bones. Feeling the healing power surge, the very psychic dire wolf tamed by Rexxar licked Diakum's gauntlet with its tongue to express its gratitude. Diakum also liked these loyal and fierce "big dogs".

He reached out and tried to touch Halasa but the dire wolf dodged cunningly. Obviously, that was the place that only Rexxar could touch.

The Sentinel looked at the peaceful yet murderous woodland before him and said:

"This forest is the 'graveyard' of the forces of creation. Those original life forms that could devour the world for nourishment, elevating themselves to 'living planets' in the sea of stars, are now left with only these remnants.

It's more like a seed waiting to sprout a second time, but who shattered its hope of "transformation"? And who transformed this world, which should have belonged entirely to the realm of life, into what it is today?

It's right to hate you, Rexxar.

Because you are also the result of the echo of the ancient power of order shaping today. To it, you are the descendant of the 'enemy'.

Stay here, or help Maraad and Garona retrieve the artifact that can control the gronn.

I'll go in alone!

I am not a native of Draenor, I am an outsider, and its hatred for me is unreasonable, not to mention that I came with good intentions, wanting to talk to it and ask for its assistance."

"I'll go with you!"

Although Rexxar sensed the danger, he did not flinch. He said:

"This is not only to ensure the ultimate unity of the Alliance of K'ure, but also for my pack. Don't forget, I came here to find our place in this world for my pack.

This is my mission as the leader of the beasts!"

"Then follow me. Try not to take action, lest you provoke a stronger counterattack from the vitality."

Diakum waved his hand, took out the Ashbringer, and stepped onto the edge of the grass in front of him with the giant blade in hand.

At that moment, a huge and violent will transformed into a roar of rebuke and exploded in his spiritual realm, allowing Diakum to vaguely see a human figure surrounded by a ball of green light, angrily rebuking his arrogance.

This shock of mental power made the sentinel feel rare pressure and pain.

But he did not retreat but advanced, taking the second step despite the mental torture. The holy power in his body began to burn, and the white holy flame wrapped around the Ashbringer's blade also began to jump.

This made the other party realize that intimidation alone could not prevent this foreign hoofed man from entering the realm of ancient life, so the other party decisively withdrew the mental interference and oppression, and instead used a more direct "physical persuasion" to ask the holy light to stay away from the holy land of life.

Amid the terrified screams of Rexxar's dire wolves and ravens, the forest before them "came alive"!

The trees fell over, the earth shook, and among the cracks in the rocks, a giant Protoceratops beast that looked like a moving hill appeared before the invaders, striding with heavy hooves and shaking its human-like upper body and reindeer-like lower body like a giant mammoth.

It waved its left hand, which was formed by vines and trees. As the black blood-sucking vines spun and gathered, a heavy primitive living wood halberd appeared in its hand.

It lowered its head, and its face, shaped in a strange posture by trees and plants, looked like it was wearing a crown of thorns. Its green but cold and ruthless eyes stared at the two people in front of it, and the meaning of destruction was self-evident.

Demi god!

A primitive demigod composed entirely of plants appeared silently in front of Diakum and Rexxar. The fierce Mok'Nathal gripped his double axes, but he did not think he was a match for the giant of life in front of him.

"Back off!"

Diakum reminded:
"This is just a guardian forged by Draenor's Heart of Life. It's truly eternal life. It doesn't have the concept of 'death' but is merely an extension of a higher power. You can think of it as the gatekeeper of the Evergrove.

Eternal Tarna
The undefeated giant spirit in the local tiger people's legend!

Their ancestors witnessed the terrible war between the eternal forest giants and the ruthless magnaron lord Dover the Destroyer, and it is said that it was this centuries-long conflict that shaped the modern world of Gorgrond.

"We must defeat it before we can enter the Evergrowth."

Rexxar sighed and said:

"I heard it clearly this time. This forest has given us a test. No, to be more precise, it is a test for you. They have smelled the scent of the 'ancient enemy' that you carry. This will be a battle to the death."

"I'll gladly accept!"

The Sentinel strode forward, heavy blade in hand, and said:
"Ancient life force, I am not the offspring of your enemies, and I have no connection to the Titans of the Pantheon! But if a demonstration of strength is required to allow me to enter your holy land, then, I will offend you in the following."

------

"Hmm? Why are so many Shadow Council assassins being killed here?"

High Warlord Eitrigg, who had suffered the same "personnel changes" as Orgrim Doomhammer, frowned as he looked at the burnt corpses in front of him. By checking the weapons and personal belongings in the hands of these guys, the astute warlord quickly confirmed their identities.

He looked back at the way he had come, and then he understood.

"It came for me! But as bad luck would have it, it accidentally landed in the hands of a passing 'knight'."

Eitrigg dropped the melted dagger in his hand and said to the sturdy young orc beside him who was wearing a black wolfskin helmet and carrying a huge black battle axe:

"If you hadn't been protecting me, Nazgrel, I'm afraid I would have been the one to die here today, a 'troublemaker' who is already disliked by many."

Facing the governor's ridicule, the sturdy orc warrior made a disdainful expression and waved his hand, indicating that they should continue on their way.

It would take more than a day's walk from here to Talador. The next section of the road was not safe as the Sons of Gronn were around. Although he was not afraid to challenge the behemoths and regarded it as his own practice, Lord Commander Eitrigg was not an orc who excelled in force.

In other words, compared to his wisdom and decisiveness, which are top-notch among orcs, his martial arts skills seem not so outstanding.

"Why did you drink the demon's blood, Nazgrel?"

Warlord Eitrigg mounted his wolf. He looked at the brave warrior who had recently been guarding him and protecting him from assassination. Seeing that Nazgrel did not speak, Eitrigg said softly:
"I'm guessing you weren't seduced by Gul'dan's sweet talk, nor do you have much interest in the Warchief's conquests. As the last member of the Blackscar clan, carrying the Axe of Serathil, you're eager to find an opportunity to rebuild your clan in this conquest. That's why you're heading to the Throne of Glory as a wanderer, right?"

"What a bullshit Throne of Glory! I really believed their lies."

The young orc said hoarsely:
"When I drank that disgusting stuff, the soul of the last warrior of the Blackscar clan was also tainted. I regretted it then and there. If it weren't for Chieftain Old Dahl who stopped me, I would have killed Gul'dan with my ancestral battle axe and then committed suicide to maintain my honor.

I traveled alone across Draenor and endured so many challenges, not to become a pawn of evil. You destroyed me!
But if I didn’t have greed and stubbornness in my heart, how could I have fallen into such a bad trap?
Don't ask any more questions, Eitrigg. I am protecting you not because of anyone's orders, but purely because of the friendly personal relationship between you and my father, Kasrakl, the previous owner of this Serahil battle axe.

I consider you as a father, but only you!
The warring tribes you are loyal to make me sick. I will never take part in your shameless war. The ancestral spirits of the Black Scar Clan have explained everything to me in my dreams.

I have paid the price for my youth and recklessness and cannot allow myself to continue to fall into depravity."

"But you are capable of greater things, child. Return with me to Talador, and I will introduce you to Warlord Orgrim Doomhammer."

Eitrigg whispered:

"He will lead us to stop everything from sliding into an even more terrifying abyss. He has that ability!
If you want to rebuild the Blackscar clan, Orgrim and I will fully support you. The glory that belongs to you in the glorious legend of the Battle of Blood River should be spread again, and the Blackscar clan will always have a share of territory in this Gorgrond wilderness. Hmm?
and many more!

Did you feel it?

The ground is shaking, something's wrong! This doesn't sound like a single gronn walking; there are many of them gathered together! What's going on? Aren't gronns solitary? It's not even mating season yet!

"nearby."

Nazgrel is the last warrior of the Blackscar clan, and his ability to wield the axe of Serathir is a testament to his extraordinary strength.

Although this huge black battle axe is not as well-known as the Flame Blade, Gorehowl and Doomhammer, it is still a legendary weapon forged by the once powerful Blackscar Clan using the best blackstone ore and elemental power.

He rode his red-gray wolf to a hill not far away to look out, and Eitrigg followed him. Soon, the two orcs saw the battle going on in the valley not far away.

But what surprised them was that, faced with the siege of three giant Sons of Gronn and some underage Gronn, those local tiger men who were just bandits in the past actually chose to continue fighting instead of collapsing at the first blow.

More importantly, the battle of these Saber-fanged Tigers was actually to protect a blue-skinned garrison officer.

The opponent was wielding a jeweled hammer and fighting against several warlocks dressed as Shadow Council, and he also had a hidden and dangerous assassin as his teammate.

The two sides were fighting over something that looked like a petrified heart. A warlock was holding the thing and calling out to Gronn for help. The battle was extremely fierce and both sides suffered casualties.

"That petrified heart can control the gronn?"

Eitrigg narrowed his eyes immediately and said to Nazgrel:
"We must take it!"

"And then give it to your cruel chief to use to destroy the world?"

The young orc took off his battle axe and said disdainfully:

"I'd rather destroy it than let either side get it! Creatures like the Gronn are too dangerous. Once they gather together and get out of control, who can stop them from destroying everything? They're simply not controllable creatures.

In the traditions of our Blackscar clan, the gronn and the even older magnaron are the eternal masters of the wilds of Gorgrond, the will and soul of the land."

"Then destroy it."

Eitrigg did not argue with Nazgrel. He urged:

"I, an old man, won't go up there and embarrass myself. You go ahead, don't delay, and get in and out quickly."

"Where are the warlocks of the Shadow Council?"

Orc Warrior said:
"They're bound to talk nonsense."

"Look at what you said. If Ner'zhul and the Shadowmoon Necromancer don't help, how can the dead speak?"

Eitrigg curled his lips and said:

"Don't test me, I hate the Shadow Council just as much as you do!

I can assure you that no matter how Orgrim intends to end this abominable corruption, Gul'dan and his minions must be completely eradicated! If you wish, we can hand Gul'dan over to you. "

"Hmph, let's put it this way!"

A smile appeared on half of Nazgrel's face under his wolf-skin helmet. He carried his heavy battle axe and nimbly jumped along the ridge a few times before rushing into the valley.

Eitrigg returned to the wolf and took a dragon bone bow and a pot of arrows. He looked for a support position on this high ground.

Maraad had just killed a warlock and his demon, and was about to cover Garona's way to seize the artifact Heart of Magnaron, when in the blink of an eye he saw a ferocious greenskin coming towards him with an astonishingly large black battle axe.

His heart sank, thinking that this was reinforcements from the Shadow Council.

The opponent's aura and the bloody anger that surrounded him showed that he was a legendary warrior. He was about to step forward to stop him but suddenly saw the opponent swinging his battle axe and throwing it with unique skills. The brutal thing whistled and slashed into the back of a Shadow Council member who was unable to dodge.

This blow cut the idiot in half.

"Humph"

The orc glanced past Maraad, snorting indifferently, but gestured to him instead of attacking.

Maraad understood instantly.

He and the orc who broke into the battlefield rushed in two directions, hacking and slashing like tigers and wolves, and quickly beat the dog warlocks of the Shadow Council and made them cry for their parents. They called for Gronn to help, but it turned out that this Heart of Magnaron might require some unique methods of use.

Gronn did come, but his attention was attracted by the tiger hunters who were jumping up and down and harassing him with spears, completely ignoring the warlock's pleas.

Seeing that things were going badly, the high-level warlock holding the Heart of Magnaron gritted his teeth and threw the petrified heart in his hand into the distance, forcing Garona, who was supposed to kill him, to rush out with a nimble shadow step, grab the petrified heart, and fall under the hill.

The high-level warlock laughed and jumped onto a demon bat and rushed into the sky.

But just when he was about to escape, a whistling arrow hit him in the face, causing the high-level warlock to fall down with a scream and be nearly killed. He climbed up with the arrow stuck in his head, and before he could beg for mercy, he was hit by the jeweled hammer and the black battle axe at the same time.

"Goldmane! Follow me! Let's lure the gronn away!"

Garona called out to her tiger followers, and Karash Goldmane whistled at the local tiger "cousins" to retreat quickly.

It chased Garona out of the valley, and those irritable Gronns were also attracted by the petrified heart and left. The lively battlefield suddenly became quiet, leaving only a few injured little Gronns with nowhere to escape. As a result, they were caught by the clever and fierce tiger hunters with nets and chains.

For the local tiger clan, defeating three gronns in one battle was already a rare victory. The strongest hunter master among them, "Sunclaw", howled excitedly, and other tiger people retreating along the ridge also responded, making the valley full of joyful feeling of "the monkeys on both sides of the river crying non-stop".

On the battlefield littered with the remains of warlocks, Maraad stared warily at the powerful orc warrior in front of him. The orc warrior, carrying a black battle axe, wiped his nose and looked Maraad up and down.

Perhaps to express his approval of his great uncle's fierce martial arts, he raised his thumb and waved it, then turned and left without any reluctance.

He saw with his own eyes that the "artifact" could not control Goron!
It could only lure and influence the behemoth, and its control was quite limited. Even if the Draenei got it, it would be difficult for them to use it for large-scale destruction, so Nazgrel no longer chased Garona to destroy it.

Killing so many warlocks still made the Black Scar warrior satisfied. He even spared the tiger bandits and disappeared on the ridge as quickly as he appeared, where his companions should be waiting.

Maraad, carrying his jeweled hammer, watched the strange orc leave.

He could feel the other party's eagerness to try. Logically, an orc who drank the devil's blood would not be able to suppress the desire for destruction in his heart, but this orc behaved quite "decently".

This made the garrison officer realize that some outstanding orc warriors could really rely on willpower to suppress the chaos of demonic blood. It might also be that the guy's strange "wolf spirit tattoo" was helping him maintain his sanity.

Maraad did hear from the rangers about a new faith rising among the war tribes, a demonic black wolf god that already had many orc followers.

But why this guy let me go is indeed a question, and I actually owe a favor to a green-skinned guy today.

Tsk, that's really strange.

On the other side, when the satisfied Nazgrel returned to the ridge carrying his battle axe, Eitrigg stared at him with dissatisfaction. Just as he was about to question him, he heard Nazgrel explain:

"Those Shadow Council assassins who were supposed to be coming for you were taken out by that blue-skinned guy. The hammer in his hand matches the shape of the wounds on the assassins. You owe him a life, old man, so just accept it this time!"
Or has it been that after drinking the devil's blood, you, a fellow who worships honor, even forgotten the principle of 'repaying kindness'?"

"That's different! Nazgrel, that thing can influence wars. Oh, never mind. It won't make sense to a young man like you who only cares about glory. I don't have it, so I don't have it."

Eitrigg shook his head.

"Anyway, I'm a criminal now, and it's not safe to carry the artifact in my hand. Gul'dan will definitely regard me as a thorn in his side. If the artifact falls into the hands of the blue-skinned man, it will also attract the hatred of the Shadow Council.

Let's go.

Let's get out of here as soon as possible!
"But, did that Orc assassin look familiar to you? Wasn't that Harfolsen, the one Gul'dan trained? Why is she hanging out with the blueskins?"

"Doesn't this mean that Gul'dan's training has failed? This means that Gul'dan isn't as powerful as you think. He will die if struck by an axe."

Nazgrel smiled a warrior's smile and said:

"I can't wait to see that old man's miserable plea for mercy, and I will cruelly refuse him! I will use Gul'dan's head to decorate the ancient battle standard of the Blackscar clan, or even his black heart or eyeballs.
I guess a lot of people have already pre-ordered that guy's disgusting head, but it will definitely be mine!
Remember what you promised me!
My axe can serve you or Orgrim, but only if Gul'dan and his minions die! It won't end well for anyone who stays with them. Furthermore, the Shadow Council has openly tried to assassinate you, and the warlocks clearly don't want you to return to Blackhand's side.

So, how long will you and Orgrim endure?
Blackhand allowed the warlocks to use the plague, and on our people! You know what this means, your warchief has gone mad! "

"Shut up! Just do whatever I tell you to do next, and this will be over soon."

(End of this chapter)