webnovelfull Chapter 629 Withering and Fading
Chapter 629 Withering and Fading
The eerie magic circle not only contained walls of fire, but also black, purple, and red demonic flames that surged upwards in turn. The black flames were blood, directly burning the blood of living beings.
Purple directly envelops the soul; touching it brings the agony of a soul being torn apart. The body becomes uncontrollable, the five senses are amplified, and the body goes from burning hot to freezing cold. The physical body is not dead, but the soul has already begun to wither...
The red flame is actually normal, but it's not quite normal either.
This flame, like a leech, gnaws at everything, shifting between blue, yellow, and red, as if roasting a delicious meal; Death is watching life's struggle. Three death knights stand there, brandishing their weapons, maintaining the withering and decaying magic circle, within which various forces exist.
The construction of this magic circle did not require Lorraine's supervision; even he himself could barely understand it. Three strange death runes constructed the withering and decaying magic circle.
The Death Knight's unique Wither magic possesses powers beyond just Blood Plague; it also includes Frostbite and Shadow Bite.
Only a true Death Knight can wield this skill.
Under the joint command of the three Death Lords, they acted like three demon gods, wantonly reaping souls.
Ordinary souls aren't delicious enough; only vengeful spirits that struggle in fear, torment, and agony are truly delectable. This time, Lorraine didn't harvest the souls of these mercenaries; it disdained them...
At some point, even necromancers started becoming picky eaters...
Lorraine desires a noble soul.
Unfortunately, the most precious thing in the world is probably a noble soul. Nobility is not the same as being noble; human virtue must be pure willpower. It's indescribable; Lorraine yearns for a soul like Yurev's, and it doesn't like evil guys like Thule or even Arugao.
......
"Fire wall! Fire wall..."
"Help! Let me out..."
"Ah! Help! There's a demon!"
The fire wall only prevents the enemy from escaping. Within the withering array, there is not only the power of decay that erodes the life force and spirit of mortals, but also undead skeletons that emerge from the earth.
These flaming skeletons, enhanced by the Sudden Demon, may not be invincible.
They weren't actually afraid of fire, nor were they invulnerable to swords and spears, but in front of mercenaries and bandits who only bullied the weak, these desperate men who had lost their muskets were terrified.
A few ruthless individuals hacked and smashed with all their might.
But even they couldn't withstand the more than three hundred immortal, ever-emerging fiery skeleton servants that kept emerging from the withering magic circle.
These seemingly fiery skeletons are not just capable of simple scratching.
They can be controlled by death knights, and they come in a variety of types, including shield-bearers and axemen, spearmen and bone archers, and skeleton mages who can cast fireballs and shadow bolts.
This is the advantage of having a wise Death Knight commander.
They are called commanders, born with the ability to command battles, and can adjust their formations through learning and observation.
A skeleton soldier that could only move slowly quickly learned to sprint and pounce using both hands and feet. Death Knights can strengthen their joints, and three hundred undead guards can be transformed into the required unit at any time. In the death circle, they torture the enemy and train themselves.
The Death Knight leader contentedly absorbed the tormented souls, and his master rewarded them.
They bestowed these upon their subordinates...
This was a lesson, a massacre, a revenge...
Originally filled with resentment and anger, feeling depressed and annoyed, Lorraine witnessed the helpless withering of life, and his Mary Sue syndrome flared up again... Unable to bear watching, with vibrant lives being torn apart and cries of agony filling his ears, he could only tell himself that these guys were murderers, robbers, and guilty.
Lorraine's kindness seems to be conditional...
At the time, he didn't think there was anything wrong with the death of the troll villagers who had offended him. Only after he subdued them did he begin to have a little bit of awareness about taking care of his own people.
Even now, witnessing humans, dwarves, tauren, goblins, ogres, trolls, and even mercenaries of unknown races collapsing in agony, he still feels a pang of sympathy...
He may have forgotten that of the hundreds of villagers, including the thirteen Shadow Troll Hunters who could no longer be considered fully alive, only eight villagers remained truly alive.
The artillery barrage from the mountaintop lasted for thirty minutes, including some poison gas bombs.
The goblins came to destroy this troublesome village; it's all the fault of the venture capital firm.
But are those mercenaries from various races who would do anything outrageous for money really worthy of pity? Don't they deserve what they got? Shouldn't they have long ago realized that those who kill will be killed, and those who insult others will be insulted?
Lorraine was genuinely bewildered at first.
Despite the ups and downs, they have managed to overcome any enemy who dares to offend them.
It seems there are no rivals. Even against powerful enemies, one can manage to escape by chance... or even turn the tables and defeat those terrifying and bizarre opponents.
Over thirty-one days, an ordinary, timid young apprentice mage from Azeroth slowly transformed into a cold and irritable necromancer, eventually becoming a necromancer who could manipulate mortal souls at will.
This guy forgot his teacher's warning and just wanted to finish the task quickly; he was impatient and arrogant.
Arrogant and cowardly...
This guy has become the embodiment of death, commanding a vast army, with overwhelming numbers...
After suffering a few minor defeats, he became like a frightened bird, managing to get away with things by sheer luck and becoming overconfident that he could go anywhere...
Achieving something so inherently empty can easily breed arrogance, especially since the teacher has been deafeningly silent lately, distancing himself from friends and relatives, falling into an abyss alone, and slowly climbing out with a desperate spirit.
Of course, there was the help of experts and friends; Lorraine didn't just ascend to immortality on her own.
To say nothing of the distant past, just a few days ago I met a reclusive panda-like wine connoisseur. The other party seemed to get along very well with me and helped me leave. Before leaving, he used his drunkenness to discover the secrets of Lorraine.
He gave him a bamboo flute and Old Chen, the Panda Wine Immortal, instructed Lorraine that there were at least three obstacles ahead that would block his way to the Boarman Holy Land in the Southern Barrens.
Troll Village...
Underground city...
Ghost Mist Peak connects to the Howling Cave... and there's also the mysterious Valhalla of Warriors.
If you want to leave, you must not forget your original intention and remain pure.
Lorraine, discovering for the first time that even the undead could get drunk, finally left the Altar of Storms in a daze. Only after truly leaving that Mythic+ dungeon did she realize she had missed a real treasure: the Altar of Storms held the secrets of soul reincarnation, and might even involve details of the birth of Azeroth's first and future Death Knight.
The Moon Spring, left behind by the ancestors of the Dark Trolls, is suspected to be a precious source of magic from the Well of Eternity.
Along with the mysterious Storm Tavern and its owner, the power of mist and lightning, and the secrets of the altar that sank into the earth's fissure, isn't this the real problem of the Troll Village solved?
......
Lorraine didn't want to see the rest of the one-sided slaughter and revenge...
Some wanted to watch and even join in: the twenty-one surviving natives of the troll village. The village chief's son, Little Fang, was the first to charge into the Withering Array. Protected by Azaran, they weren't afraid of the Withering power, but they couldn't freely charge through the array; they could only approach Azaran...
Azaran, the lesser demon, seems to be enjoying the thrill of luring the last young warrior of this group of dark trolls...
It was originally a satyr, an overseer of the Burning Legion stationed in the Burning Blade Clan, serving the Burning Legion. It was a minor leader, though probably just an insignificant figure in the hierarchical Burning Legion.
Even the Doomguards summoned by demon warlocks are more noble than it.
However, Azaran was one of the Highborne nobles corrupted by the Burning Legion before the Great War of the Ancients, that is, before the massive explosion 100,000 years ago. After the explosion of the Well of Eternity, the war between the Satyrs and the Night Elves continued for countless years...
The Burning Legion's main force retreated because the vanguard's first invasion failed due to the closure of the Well of Eternity's passage.
The small portal was not enough to allow a quasi-god like Archimonde to descend. It was after that that the Burning Legion changed its strategy, which led to the later Dark Portal.
Thirteen wounded troll shadow hunters, tireless and covered in blood, killed the invaders. The troll village, which had been peaceful and silent for countless years, was now transformed into the ruthless hunters of the Death Tribe, who were once the singing and dancing members of the Broken Spear tribe who lived by fishing and hunting.
Lorraine looked at the black panther ghost mark on the back of his hand, and seemed to hear the village chief's sobs. He felt a strange pang of pity and muttered, "This is fate... the joke of the god of mischief."
"A person who enjoys himself..."
I can't hear, I can't see, I can't forget...