Anduin Lothar was rescued by a weird guy, and Warchief Orgrim's beheading operation failed. Although the tribe was still resisting the Alliance's attack unyieldingly, under the leadership of Uther and Tirion Fordring,

After the army defeated the shaman phalanx on the rear defense line, the tribe's retreat route had been blocked.

The turmoil in the Alliance camp has resumed after the Blackstone Orcs retreated. Reinforcements from the rear are pouring into the battlefield. The Horde soldiers have been divided. Orgrim himself is trapped in an increasingly narrow space by the Alliance generals.

on the battlefield.

As the Kor'kron orcs were killed one after another, although every orc fought desperately, the tribe's defeat was approaching.

On a hillside not far from the main battlefield, the bodies of soldiers who died in battle were everywhere, as well as the orc warriors who fell on the battlefield. This was a land covered with death, and on this land

, Grand Knight Turalyon and his paladins, who tried to rescue the kidnapped Marshal Lothar, also encountered a fatal crisis.

"puff"

The sound of shattering armor and the pain of being torn flesh and blood brought all of Turalyon's struggles to a climax at this moment. The death knight let go of his fingers, and the paladin's body wrapped in holy light fell at his feet.

The holy light was so hot that Tyrion's body felt like it was burning in fire.

He looked down at Turalyon's angry eyes, and the look in those eyes was burning like a flame, but even so, he could still see the fear of the great knight in them, his disintegrating determination, and his

The will that is being destroyed bit by bit is like a fire of holy light that will never go out and burn blazingly.

But the flame that was supposed to illuminate the dark road ahead was about to be forcibly extinguished at this moment.

"There is actually no hatred between us."

The death knight tilted his head. He squatted down and stretched out his hand to wipe the blood from the paladin's face. Although the hot holy light burned his fingers crazily, it did not make Tyrion flinch.

In the darkness where flesh and blood spread like gravel, he whispered:

"There is no misunderstanding. I could have let you go, but I don't want to do it. Turalyon, I hate you! Because of the things you will do in the future... Oh, you don't understand,

Right?"

He stood up, his boots rubbed against the paladin's body, and the magic sword in his hand was raised again.

He let out a strange chuckle, as if he was afraid of waking up a sleeping person, he lowered his voice:

"It doesn't matter, you don't need to understand, you just need to know that your death is not for me... Die quietly, Turalyon, this world will become different, from tonight, from you

Death begins..."

"puff"

The sharp blade pierced the Paladin's abdomen again, and this time, Turalyon finally let out a scream.

And this scream made Tyrion feel a twisted sense of comfort...

"Eat, eat, I know you are hungry."

The death knight patted the hilt of Apocalypse's sword, and the magic sword that was pierced into the flesh began to bite the dying soul of the paladin.

"Holy light may protect your body, but it cannot protect your soul."

The moment the Death Knight finished his attack, a cold light lit up behind him, and the bloody wound was scattered with flesh and blood. This attack was so brutal that it directly cut open his back, and even his chest could be seen.

Where the heart should have been, it was just empty flesh and blood.

In the hands of a master assassin, staggered daggers can easily create such scars, and this kind of pain is enough to make any living person feel despair. In the past 10 years, Mathias Shore has used this method

, as a result, many people deserved it, or they were innocent.

But unfortunately, this time he was not facing an enemy who would be defeated by pain.

"monster!"

Mathias Shore completed a fatal blow, and his body immediately turned to the other side, wanting to jump into the darkness again.

But unexpectedly, after suffering such a fatal injury, Tyrion seemed to be fine. He turned around lightly, and dark red death energy surged out from his palms. The moment before Shore disappeared,

Appeared from under his feet, like an invisible hand, tightly clasped around his neck.

"What the hell!"

Shaw's injured body was hoisted into the air by the strangulation of death. Tyrion's cold fingers touched his chest. The next moment, blood was drawn out of Shaw's body like a long snake, bit by bit.

It covered the scars on the death knight's chest bit by bit.

"What was that just now? Is it a dagger?"

Tyrion tilted his head and looked at Shaw who was twitching painfully in the air. He said softly:

"Are you going to kill me this way? Assassin..."

Looking at Shaw's increasingly pale face and the undiminished murderous intent in his eyes, the death knight shrugged:

"Very good. Although the assassins under my command are sufficient, they are very disobedient...you! You may become a very good scout after your death."

"Look!"

The death knight stretched out his finger and made a silent gesture near his mouth, as if chatting. The cold frost condensed into a sharp ice knife in his hand. He whispered to the imprisoned guy:

"It won't hurt, it's just a slight scratch, it won't even bleed too much, just like this..."

"Shua"

The sharp blade was swung down, and the death energy wrapped around the ice blade jumped crazily. Tyrion's eyes brightened. Although he had been suppressing the desire for destruction in his heart, every time he saw the scene of blood flying, it would make him feel deep in his heart.

I felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

He began to like the feeling of the sharp blade cutting through the skin and the blood spurting out from the blood vessels.

"puff"

The flying blood rippled in the air, blooming with some kind of light in the dark night. Tyrion stretched out his fingers, and the warm blood fell on his fingertips. He put it under his nostrils and smelled it. The bloody sweetness

The smell made his Adam's apple twitch, but in the end, he threw the blood from his fingertips on the ground and looked back at the Paladin, who was completely lifeless.

He chuckled lightly, grabbed Tianqi, and planned to leave.

"It's just as greedy as your brother, but it eats souls to build an invincible army for the sword holder. You just want to eat them..."

Tyrion snorted dissatisfiedly, and at the moment he took steps, a yellow light suddenly lit up in the sky behind him, like the swing of a clock.

This made the death knight's face look completely ugly.

"Do you have to throw away the things you use up? Mr. Medivh, is this your guarantee? You have to perform a complete set when acting. Isn't this a little too irresponsible?"

Medivh's hoarse voice sounded in the heart of the death knight, and the voice was full of undisguised anger:

"You have gone too far! Tyrion, Blade of Dawn...your wanton behavior has angered the bronze dragon that guards this timeline. Now, come back quickly! It is coming to catch you!"

"I knew it would be like this, intervening in Lothar's life and death, no, no, no, I knew it when I was dealing with you cunning bastard mages..."

The death knight glanced at Turalyon at his feet. The last hope in the paladin's eyes had been extinguished. His soul had been swallowed by the magic sword, and there was no possibility of resurrection. Tyrion turned around and rushed out of this place.

On the hillside shrouded in death, while running, he whispered:

"Let's tell the truth. As soon as Lothar was sent away, the bronze dragon appeared. Mr. Medivh, this shouldn't be an accident, right?"

Faced with this question, Medivh did not answer directly. After a moment, his voice sounded again:

"Lotha has been safely sent to the Deadwind Pass. Tyrion, you have done what you should do, although you still did some things you shouldn't have done. In short, crush the crystal in your hand and return to the mage tower. Here you can

It’s safe!”

"Is this something?"

Tyrion flicked his fingers, and a purple crystal appeared in the palm of his hand. He tossed it up and down and threw it aside.

"My mother taught me many things, Medivh. The one I remember most clearly is: Never follow the path arranged by the enemy for you..."

The death knight looked back at the clock-like counterclockwise rotation of light in the sky, which was a sign that the bronze dragon was coming.

He put the magic sword back into the scabbard with his backhand, turned his wrist up, and the dark red death energy rushed into the ground. After a few seconds, a dead horse stood up and walked to Tyrion's side.

"The cooperation between us is over, Star Mage. I know what you want to do, and I also know what you will do. I also know that we were not on the same page from the beginning."

The death knight pulled the reins and got on his horse, and quickly rushed into the still chaotic battlefield. Seeing another battlefield where humans and orcs were fighting in front of him, he gritted his teeth and drew out the magic sword with his backhand, injecting huge death energy.

In the sword, in the roar of the apocalypse, wherever Tyrion went, the dead bodies stood up one after another.

Losing arms, losing heads, or even being mutilated, the warriors of the Alliance, the orcs of the Horde, this scorched earth full of corpses is full of power that Tyrion can use.

Their corpses were twisted, and their souls were lost, leaving only a shell. Under the injection, manipulation, and command of darker power, these bodies stood up tremblingly and gathered behind the death knight. Soon, under his control,

Where the horses rushed through, a dead and twisted legion appeared.

This is not the undead that Tyrion actively awakened, but the power of the demon sword Apocalypse. Although compared with its brother, the evil demon sword Frostmourne, Apocalypse is not a strategic weapon, but these two swords come from the same

Source, when they were forged in the darkness of the Twisting Nether, they all possessed the power to awaken the dead.

The difference is that Frostmourne, which is heavier than soul-binding, can easily form a death army that is completely bound to the mind, while Apocalypse does not have the ability to permanently control the soul. It is more tactical and its own power is stronger than Frostmourne.

Grief is stronger, but the dead awakened by it will die again quickly.

After all, Apocalypse is unruly and will not dedicate all its power to the sword holder, but its brother Frostmourne is docile and will form a symbiosis of power with the sword holder.

"At the end of the day, it's just about everyone getting what they need."

"Break through them! Tear them apart!"

Under Tyrion's order, wherever the ferocious machete-like blade of Apocalypse pointed, all creatures that stood in the way, whether they were humans, orcs, elves, or dwarves, became the targets of the walking zombies' attacks without any plan.
To be continued...