Unconscious, cold, foul stench, heart-wrenching pain, all gone. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 info There is only soft darkness left, and there is a comfortable tranquility. Sylvanas allowed herself to sink into darkness, thinking she could let go of the burden of serving the people and rest forever.

The pain pierced her, it was a pain she had never experienced before, and no physical pain she had ever experienced could compare to this kind of torture. Sylvanas suddenly realized that this was a sharp pain in the soul, that the soul that had already left the body had been captured and pulled out of the warmth and tranquility of the land of death, and that the force was so brutal that the torture was even more unbearable. Sylvanas felt a scream run through her body, snatching her way from the depths of her heart, through her lips that were no longer disembodied, a bone-wracking cry of grief that not only gave vent to her own suffering, but also made the blood of those who heard it.

The darkness cleared from view, but nothing in front of her was back in color, but she didn't need to rely on red, yellow, and blue to identify him, the one who ravaged her, because even in a colorful world, he was only made of black, white, and gray. The runic sword that had taken her life and devoured her soul still shone with a cold blue light, and Arthas raised his other hand in a summoning gesture, and this was how he had torn her out of the tender embrace of death.

"Banshee," he told her. "This is my new identity for you. You can express the pain in your voice, Sylvanas, and I will make you worse than anyone else, so that you can bring pain to others. Now, Ranger who has brought me trouble, you will serve me, forever!"

"No," she said, her voice hollow and grotesque, but still recognizable as her voice. "I will not serve you, executioner. ”

Arthas continued his relentless march towards Silvermoon City, glancing at the Banshee from time to time, keeping a close watch on her. As a captive, she continued to move forward with the surging army of the undead, destroying the ground beneath her feet, and at this moment, the whispers that she had thought were nothing more than imagination suddenly became clear.

You will serve my glory, Sylvanas. You will labor for death, and you will desire obedience. Arthas is one of my first and most beloved death knights, and he will always command you, and you will be honored for it.

The iron hooves of death mercilessly crushed through Silvermoon City, the people fled in panic, and death consumed everything.

Annestrion expected the sea to stop the monster's tracks, and an instantaneous ice bridge shattered his last illusions, and he unleashed a fiery blow that shattered the ice bridge with a huge fireball, corroding and falling into the sea, green like ink blending into the water.

The ice bridge was repaired almost instantly, and the High Elf King gathered the last of his forces and charged at the monsters that had set foot on the Holy Land.

He shattered the hooves of Arthas's horse, and Sylvanas couldn't help but want to applaud the beautiful blow.

"Undefeated!" Arthas roared, the skeletal horse churning to its feet on its lost front hooves.

The Flame Strike collided with the Rune Greatsword, and the ancient elven weapon was no match for the Rune Sword, and with a single blow, it turned into a whirling fragment.

The Elf King lay on his back on the ice weakly, a pool of blood under him, and his long white hair was scattered like corpse clothes.

There was no torture, no pain, and Sylvanas let out a terrible scream, a hatred that cut into the marrow, pure hatred.

The elves fell to their knees clutching their bleeding ears. Their words and spells were interrupted, and the words of magic became the most primitive and miserable, terrifying, and painful chaotic wails. Some of the elves fell, their armor shattered and peeled off into a pile of deformed pieces, and even their bones were broken under the flesh.

"You're such a weapon. Arthas looked at Sylvanas for a long time. "But it's probably a double-edged sword. I'll take good care of you. ”

Kel'thugad has been resurrected, the Well of the Sun has been polluted forever, and none of the people of Quel'Salas have survived, and the surviving people don't know where they are going, because they have nowhere to go.

Arthas led the army of the undead away without hesitation, he gave this place to the traitor of the High Elves, he had only come here to complete the mission given to him by the Lich King, and now, his mission was complete, and there was nothing here that made him nostalgic.

'Are you alright?' Benny couldn't see Sylvanas' expression now, but the throbbing in his soul kept coming.

'It's all because of our stupidity, isn't it?' Sylvanas had come back to her senses from those terrible sights, she knew it wasn't herself, but she couldn't suppress the feeling in her heart, the pain beating against her soul like an unstoppable wave. 'If we weren't so arrogant and didn't rely so much on magical enchantments, maybe we wouldn't have failed so badly, just as you did when you came to Quel'Thalas, and at the very least, we could evacuate our own people, and see how many High Elves are left now? ’

Arthas fulfilled his 'promise' by resurrecting the fallen Far Travelers and Ranger under the command of Sylvanas, surrounded by Banshees like Sylvanas, and the Ranger who still had the corpse in his body walked in silence, no different from the other undead except for the bow in his hand.

It's not your fault. The road was a little muddy under his feet, and perhaps Sylvanas's mood was as messy as it was, and all he could do was comfort. Thinking about what we've done, what we're seeing now is just a historical possibility, it's like a 'metaphor' that we just say. ’

If it wasn't for you, it would have happened, and I know how arrogant we were. ’

A necromantic acolyte walked by, and Sylvanas pressed the hood on her head.

'Thank you. ’

There is no such word between us. Benny wanted to smile at Sylvanas, but suddenly remembered what he looked like now----- better not be disgusting, no one wants to see a fat repellent crawling out of the corner of your mouth when you smile.

"You!" a necromantic acolyte suddenly stood in front of the two of them, dressed in a way that seemed to be of some 'rank', his robes were more complex than the others, and there were more runes with magic attached to them.

"You're now under the Banshee King, along with a few of you. The necromantic acolyte pointed to Benny, as well as Thrall and Malfurion. "If you can't understand this command, I can make you smarter. The necromantic acolyte's right hand lit up with the power of death.

"Time lasts forever. Benny looked at the necromantic acolyte and said suddenly.

"Quietly, they're all lich ears and eyes. Chromie's voice rang directly in Benny's ears, and Benny didn't even see her speak.

"Obey ---- orders---- ---- people. Benny said in fits and starts, like the other undead.

"Very well, it seems that you didn't have a broken brain when you died, which is rare. The necromantic acolyte that Chromie had turned into turned around. "Follow me. ”

A few of them bowed their heads and staggered, following the acolytes like real undead, the surrounding undead still staring along, and to most of the low-ranking undead, their soul fire was only the whisper of the Lich King. (To be continued.) )