Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 725, Section 3: All sins must be repaid, it's just not the right time yet.

"So, you hurry up and lead the Golden Fleet in, break through Helya's blockade of the Broken Isles, and settle this before the undead slaughter the mana-addicted elves of Suramar!"

Bwonsamdi's vision floated in the white smoke from the burning incense burner, waving his hands at the dark prophet Zul.

The troll Death rarely shows such urgency in front of his followers, but this time it's not pretending, which shows that Bwonsamdi is under a lot of pressure.

This guy shouted:

“You can’t understand what kind of big shot ordered this. I don’t know what you think, Zul, but old Bonsandi really doesn’t want to leave a ‘competent’ impression on them.”

Although this marks a new phase in the formation of my 'spiritual social circle,' you must understand that this matter is also closely related to you.

"I am the Grim Reaper of the Trolls. After Mu'ezara died, I am the only Grim Reaper of the Trolls. We are bound together. When I am doing well, I may not necessarily bless you, but when I am in trouble, you won't be any better off."

Threat!

This Grim Reaper is blatantly threatening his followers. Holy crap, how can this troll Grim Reaper be so evil?

But Zul remained calm.

Having been a dark prophet for so many years, doesn't Bwonsamdi know what kind of person he is?
This kind of threat is Bumsanddi's true nature. If this bastard were to speak to you in a gentle and soft-spoken manner one day, that would be a miracle.

However, the Dark Prophet remained completely unperturbed.

Not only was it not flustered, it even had the leisure to pour itself a cup of herbal soup to soothe its throat under the urging of death.

It's quite old, and it's very good at maintaining its health.

This leisurely tea-sipping manner, with no order to set sail whatsoever, infuriated Bumsanddi. Death, jumping up and down, was about to threaten, "Believe it or not, I'll take you away right here, you old bastard!" But then, the expression beneath Bumsanddi's pale skull turned strange.

Because it is not a foolish Grim Reaper who only gets angry at believers.

Bwonsamdi is cunning; it's practically synonymous with cunning for the troll race.

If Bumsandi hadn't been too lazy to fight, the spider god Shadra wouldn't have had the chance to take on the divine role of "scheming".

Seeing Zul so calm, the troll Death God began to have doubts. Thinking about it carefully, it had been more than half a month since the Dark Prophet had led the golden fleet to support the elves of the Broken Isles.

Even with Hela's ghost fleet isolating the islands, given the Dark Prophet's ability to mobilize all the Loa to aid in the battle, there's no reason why it shouldn't be able to break through the edge blockade. Moreover, this golden fleet has been stationed at the edge of the Broken Beach ever since it arrived in this area, showing no intention of sailing forward.

This wasn't a standoff with the elusive ghost fleet at all; Zul had no intention of entering Suramar ahead of schedule.

It's waiting!
This cunning old troll was clearly waiting for something to happen.

hiss.
Bonsandi gasped.

Its illusion in the smoke quieted down, staring intently at the dark prophet Zul, and then spoke:

"Don't tell me this was all part of your plan?"

"Well, during the days you were missing, the Noble Watcher came to Zandalar once to deal with the threat of Uldir, and his presence brought the ancient city of Dazar'alor into its holy glory."

Zul answered irrelevantly:

"I am not very talented, but I have also chatted and laughed with the Watchers. During the banquet with the King of Gold, we discussed some very important things that we could not tell others."

At that time, I came up with a very interesting idea.

Perhaps it was because my dim old eyes caught a glimmer of light in the uncertain future, but in any case, the current state of the Troll Empire in its division is hardly the majestic state that the eldest son of the world should be in.

The Golden King and I both realized that our empire could not continue like this.

But besides sending troops to conquer those ambitious, bastard clans, perhaps we have another way to unite all the trolls.

I believe we should carefully choose the successor to the Golden King. I mean, that the Golden Throne should rightfully be occupied by a noble being to whom all trolls, elves, and even all mortals must willingly bow in reverence.

Zur put down his teacup.

The old, blind troll prophet paused, then laughed at Bwonsamdi, who had fallen completely silent and seemed to have guessed the truth. He waved his hand and said:

"So, as the troll reaper, do you wish to add the divine office of 'elf reaper' to your title? Powerful and cunning Bwonsamdi, are you, like us, ready to serve Empress Azshara?"

"Boiled!"

This was Bumsandhi's response after a silence of more than ten seconds.

The troll Reaper was truly exasperated by these reckless and delusional mortals. Look at the absurd plans they came up with!

Should Azshara succeed as the Empress of the Zandalari Empire?
Why the hell didn't you just make the Vigilante the leader of all the Loa in the Zandalari Empire? Rezan is a Sun Dragon, what right does he have to lead the Loa? He's not even a lesser god; this position should belong to someone else.
what.

Bwonsamdi wanted to unleash a torrent of criticism, and Death felt like his brain was about to explode. However, a little devil inside him kept tempting him, making him unable to resist thinking along Zul's lines.

"It can't be done."

Bumsandi stopped gesturing wildly.

It descended from the white voodoo smoke, circled Zul once, and finally, like the Grim Reaper taking someone away, reached out and rested on Zul's shoulder, blowing away the chill of death.

Bumsandi said:

“Azshara has her own pride. If you had seen her monument called ‘Pride’, you would realize that you are plotting some impossible ambitions. She would rather cut her own throat than allow herself to become a troll.”
You've got a good idea!
But I must tell you, how could those ridiculous plagues used by the undead possibly affect a being like Azshara, who was already a lesser god before she went on her expedition to the Shadowlands?

Moreover, the Shadow Well can isolate time, so the plague cannot penetrate it at all.

“We have no need to let the plague infect the noble Queen Azshara. My dear Bwonsamdi, it seems that now that you have power, you are too lazy to think things through.”

Zul chuckled and remarked:

"This power is indeed harmful to wisdom. We should be cautious about all powers. Why should we get involved in this vile affair? Are we going to grab the plague jar with our own hands and smash it into Azshara's sleeping land?"
That wasn't an invitation, my Grim Reaper, that was a provocation.

However, if the information we receive from various sources is true, if our arrogant empress has indeed learned a lesson from the tragedy ten thousand years ago, and if she still wants to rebuild her empire, then we don't even need to intervene; we only need to protect the empress's subjects who are about to become trolls.

Death, even the greatest empire is upheld by its loyal subjects.

If, upon awakening, the Queen were to see her last loyal subjects transformed into trolls, tell me, would she personally kill all the troll subjects who knelt before her, begging for her life and leading her?
Or will you choose to accept them after painful self-persuasion?

Surama!
That was the last territory in the world that still recognized the Elven Empire, and the only thing the Nightborne in that city hadn't changed in the past ten thousand years was their loyalty to Azshara.

So, here's the question.

The troll prophet picked up his teacup and said slowly:

"If you were Azshara, what would you choose? If Queen Azshara accepted the allegiance of the dark trolls of Suramar, why couldn't she accept the allegiance and following of the nobler and more powerful Zandalari trolls?"

If our Queen needs a kingdom to rule, would she refuse if we handed the Zandalari Empire to her?
the most important is
Have you forgotten?

Queen Azshara is the leader of the dark trolls.

She experienced the entire process of the 'Blessing of the Moon', and no matter how unwilling she was to admit it, she must still remember her life as a little dark troll who once ran happily in the forests of ancient Kalimdor.

It's just another round.

Hehehe, yes, for a strong woman like Azshara, she would rather lead the trolls to another evolution than have nothing at all.

The most wonderful thing is that, thanks to Mother World, we have already mastered the 'source of evolution' called Azerite!
Now you know why I'm waiting here, Bumsandi.

I remain still because there's no need to. I'm waiting for that fool Gul'dan to make a mistake on his own. And as expected, all scum will choose to abandon morality when faced with pressure. But scum cannot understand that 'morality,' compared to protecting ordinary people, is actually their talisman. This is the grandest prophecy I've ever made. Death, even you will become a part of this prophecy, and I'm certain that you will willingly participate and do everything in your power to help me fulfill it.

One day.

Zul drank the herbal soup in its teacup in one gulp, then raised its empty bowl to Bumsandi as if offering a toast, saying:
"You too must willingly submit to your Queen! Just like us."

Bumsandi fell silent.

For the first time, it was powerless to refute the words of this rambling mortal, but soon, the cunning Grim Reaper grasped the core message in Zul's words.

it says:

"You just said you shared this idea with Diakm? Did the Watcher agree?"

He did not agree.

Zul shrugged and said:

"But he did not object."

The noble one, who shines upon all beings like the sun, tells us that this is the internal affair of the trolls and elves, and he will not interfere.

This is precisely his most outstanding and shining quality, worthy of our praise.

Compared to his own power, the Vigilant chose to trust in the efforts and choices of mortals. He was not a meddlesome deity, nor did he ever intend to interfere in the destiny that was about to be woven for him.

Bumsandi fell completely silent.

It finally realized, albeit belatedly, why Diakum had teased it in the other world, warning it to change its bad habit of telling elf jokes.

Ugh, these riddle makers are so annoying!

But Diakum did not tell Azshara, who was traveling with him, all of this.

Wow, that's terrifying. So, are the vigilant people actually happy to see things develop this way?

Azshara will become the Empress of the Zandalari Empire, and as the most beloved "Daughter of the World," she will lead the "Firstborn Sons of the World" to become the most powerful and unbreakable barrier and supreme spear of Azeroth.

Wow, that sounds really cool!
Then Bumsandi smiled.

Its laughter was so arrogant and domineering, as if it could see its future days of ruling Azeroth.

Yes, the Queen's court is recruiting all sorts of extraordinary people. I may not be very talented, but I do have some skills, so why can't I join Azshara's court and get a position?

"very good!"

Bumsandi floated up and said to Zul:

"Go ahead and do it; leave the rest to karma."

You know, even if Azshara sits on that throne according to your plan, your life will be in grave danger.

She was a woman, an arrogant woman, and an empress who had made mistakes.

This meant that she couldn't be very magnanimous.

The day Azshara becomes queen will be the day you depart from this world. You must do this so that she may not hold a grudge against your people.

"Yes, I was prepared. You see, I'm already very old."

Zul spread his hands and sighed:

“I have to get up two or three times a night to sleep now. I don’t have much time left to live, but as a prophet, I have no regrets if I can see the greatest prophecy of my life come true.”

Stop insulting the word 'prophecy'!

Bumsanddi scoffed:

"Why are you, a prophet, going off to 'gather material' yourself?"

"Ha, only a third-rate prophet would choose to follow fate, sir."

Zul said quite firmly:

"We super prophets set our own prophecies and then realize them with our own hands. What's the point of peeping into fate? We should weave our own destiny. That's what we should pursue."

A selfish Grim Reaper like you would never understand.

But please reserve a comfortable retirement spot for me in your underworld. I heard you're going to become a minor god. Congratulations! Do you need a god?

What do you think of me?

------

"Hela! Make way!"

Just as the troll's golden fleet officially set sail, under the guise of "humanitarian aid" and draped in the death blessing bestowed by Bwonsamdi, and was breaking through towards Suramar City, an entire force of lightning-forged heroes was already poised to attack beyond the surface of Stormheim.

Odin personally led the team.

The former King of War, now draped in an unassuming cloak, gripped the thunderous spear "Gungnir" and roared at the gray sea fog before him:
"As the Death God of the Vrykul, you have stooped so low as to allow the Lich King's army to commit massacres across the land of Stormheim! You have truly desecrated your duty."

What a pathetic guy!
Show yourself, or get out of here!

"What if I don't?"

As the gray sea fog erupted, the black turbid currents eroded the seawater, and amidst the howls and cries of countless dead souls, Hela, once the guardian of the Titans but now the Grim Reaper, finally appeared.

She rose from her own abyss of hell, letting the menacing tentacles of the Dead Sea stir the tides.

Amidst the swirling, filthy mire, Hela's elite undead appeared on the sea aboard a fleet of pale, ominous skeletons.

They stand amidst the ocean tides, their drowned-ghost-like appearances adorned with seaweed, algae, and barnacles, their merciless gaze fixed upon the golden, gleaming spirits under Odin's command.

Surrounded by them, Hela, the goddess of death feared by the Vrykul, spread her unique black wings, and amidst the decorations of broken ships adorning her shoulders, with her狰狞 face blessed by death, she coldly mocked Odin in the gloomy shifting sea and sky.

"Look, the noble King of War has finally decided to leave that golden sky fortress. Why don't you ride Valarjar and unleash your invincible thunder upon me?"

Oh, I forgot.

Your fortress has crashed, just as your pitiful dignity was brutally torn apart by that mortal who became the sun.

He wouldn't even deign to fight you personally; this awakened world only needs to send out its dragon pets to ruthlessly suppress you, you arrogant fool.

It's unbelievable that I ever called a coward like you my 'father,' or that I ever admired a weak thug like you.

But it's nothing.

Hela raised her claws, unleashing a filthy, bloody storm upon the waters of Stormfjord. Amidst the flashes of pale lightning, she roared:

"Death will rule all the stars, and I am your Grim Reaper! All sins must be repaid, Odin. Come, raise your weapon and join me in the River of Souls."

I will take you to the Maw
That's the hell your pathetic soul deserves to go to!

(End of this chapter)