Chapter 341 The Great Chief and the Prophet
In the underground prison of the Duke of Theron, a "black man" who seems to be able to absorb all the light around him is squatting on the ground to check a cursed sect mber whose head was broken and died a second ti.
"Huh... Sure enough, there is no trace of shadow or void energy on the mbers of these cursed sects, what they have is pure power of death."
"I also ca to a preliminary conclusion from the plague samples they carried with them. This plague is not a simple plague, but a magical product made by the power of death."
The old man who had lost his shadow form and returned to his original appearance was none other than Alonsus Faol, the forr Holy Light Archbishop of Lordaeron who studied the power of shadow after obtaining Xalatath.
Over the years, he has gradually mastered how to precisely control the power of shadows, and how to find a balance between the holy light and the shadows. For this reason, he also created a priest faction called Discipline, and the priests of this faction can simultaneously Use the power of shadow and light.
But the power of shadow is still difficult to be accepted by the public after all, at least it is difficult to co to the stage on the bright side. For this reason, Alonsost deliberately established a new church, and nad it after Charlemagne's suggestion when naming it Light of the Void.
The first mber attracted by the Church of the Void Light was Benedictus, the closed disciple of Alonsus. Over the years, he has traveled frequently between Stormwind City and Farwalk Town, and has gradually learned to control the shadow power from his ntor. the essence of
Perhaps this Mr. Bishop is born to be a good hand in underground activities. Under his tandem, many pastors from churches from all over the world have joined this brand new church to learn how to find a balance between the shadow and the holy light.
The apparent leader of the Void Light Church is Benedictus himself. After all, Alonsus is already dead in the eyes of the world, and it is not yet ti for him to reveal his identity.
Charlemagne nodded unsurprisingly after listening to Alonsus' report, "As I thought, they planned to spread the plague and the faith at the sa ti. Quel'Thalas should not be the main force of this sect. Target."
After all, the population of Quel'Thalas is too small compared to humans. Even if the plague breaks out, they will not be able to obtain too many soldiers. As long as the leaders of this sect have no problem with their brains, they will focus on the most populous human country. .
Aronsus frowned and said, "That is to say...Lordaeron? Is it too late to warn them now?"
Charlemagne shrugged and said, "I inford Terenas half a month ago, but unfortunately, the Lordaeron king didn't seem to take it seriously. He was still busy cleaning up the Syndicate and the orcs."
Terenas’s reply was very disdainful at the beginning. The letter said that he had already sent the prince to investigate and did not need too many instructions from the high elves.
Alonsus shook his head helplessly and said, "Is Terenas, who was wise when he was young, also old and faint? After all, the existence of the Syndicate and the chaos of the orcs were all caused by his wrong decisions. Taste the fruit."
Although Alonsus has a heart of benevolence, he is not the kind of virgin who believes that everything needs to be redeed. After the alliance eting after the end of World War II, he was very puzzled by Terenas' move to establish an asylum.
Even if he didn’t kill these invaders with his own hands, at least the orcs should be exiled back to their original world through the Dark Portal that was still built at that ti. Unfortunately, his suggestion was rejected by Terenas, who wholeheartedly established the orc slave army.
While Charlemagne and Alonsus were discussing the issue of Lordaeron and the orcs, the Hillsbrad Hills, the great chief Orgrim had led the reorganized new tribe to complete the last and largest shelter Liberation - Dunholde.
But while Orgrim was busy saving his compatriots, he was slashed in the neck by Blackmoore's dying blow from behind. The warchief only had ti to entrust the black gold plate, Doomhamr and the entire tribe to Gooyle then took his last breath in the arms of his best friend's son.
"Orgrim..."
The 19-year-old Goyle looked sadly at his ntor who passed away in his arms. Over the years, besides Drek'Thar, it was the great chief who taught him the most and took care of him the most.
Orgrim taught him the current situation in the Eastern Continent, the direction of the orcs, and knowledge about military affairs, politics, diplomacy, and economy. Originally, he wanted to make things happen after Orgrim was old. took over the position of Warchief from him, who knows...
Grom Hellscream, who had rged with Goel, walked up to Goel's back and patted him on the shoulder heavily, "Let's go, Warchief, the human reinforcents are coming soon."
"Well... let's go, Grom, you continue to lead the clansn to plunder the food. Now the number of soldiers is close to 100,000. We can't fight humans hungry. I will bury Orgrim on the spot and follow him on you."
"yes!"
After Grom led the Warsong clan away, Goel led Drek'Thar and a small part of his Frostwolf elite to stay, and buried Orgrim in accordance with the traditional orc funeral, and Drek'Thar walked to his The side asked, "Great Chief, what should we do next?"
Guyle looked blankly at the snow-capped mountains in the distance, smiled wryly and shook his head and said, "I don't know, Orgrim once said that we should go to Kalimdor, the western continent, but how can we cross the ocean without a boat?"
At this mont, a voice reached the ears of the two, "Young chief, it is the right choice to go to Kalimdor continent. If you want to find a place for your group in Azeroth, then you must first Contribute to Azeroth."
"who?"
Hearing this sound suddenly, Thrall clenched the Hamr of Doom, bared his fangs and looked around vigilantly, and the Frostwolf Snow Song he stepped down also showed an attacking posture.
Under the perception of the elents, Drek'Thar raised his head and looked up with a slightly surprised expression, "This is..."
Under his attention, Raven, who had been standing on the wall of Dunholde and observing the two, said again, "Now the entire eastern continent will face terrible disasters. If you want to save this new holand, go to Kalimdor Well, there you will find the land the orcs need and allies against the Burning Legion."
"Burning Legion!"
Drek'Thar's whole body shook, hearing this ominous na again made the hairs all over his body stand on end.
In a burst of soft light, the raven gradually transford into a human man wearing a black robe and a hood.
"I am a prophet. In order to make up for my past mistakes, I told the leaders of Lordaeron and Dalaran what I saw in the Twisting Nether. Unfortunately, they didn't believe it. Now I pin my hopes on you , I hope your tribe can make its own contribution to saving Azeroth."
The man raised his head slightly and stared into the eyes of the young great chief opposite. His deep eyes made Goel instinctively feel that what the prophet said might not be false.
Of course, if Charlemagne was present, he could imdiately recognize who this magic stick who claid to be a prophet was.
The last guardian of Tirisfal, the astral mage divh who once made a big mistake because of Sargeras' possession.
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