Diego didn't hesitate for long, and after a few seconds, he turned around and walked towards the throne hall.

"Diego?" Noticing his actions, Masrae asked curiously.

"We can't just leave, in fact, we can do more." Diego replied.

"But, Diego, don't be a good person, you know, we managed to get out of this muddy water, and I don't want to dive into it again!" Hearing the conversation between the two people, Nazaire, who walked in front? The Blood Spear turned around and looked at him angrily.

"That's right! Whether those rotten skeletons are alive or dead is none of our business! The dwarf chimed rudely.

"I have to go, we can't just watch her fall into the dark!" Diego said firmly, "This may be her last chance to save her, and to save ourselves - all of us, whether humans, orcs, dwarves and minotaurs, Azeroth can no longer afford the appearance of a second Lich King, which will be a catastrophe that will destroy the world!" ”

"She won't be ......" Masrae glanced back into the throne hall, where the light had dimmed, not because the lights had gone out or anything else - Sylvanas was devouring all the light around her like a black hole. The light shrank into her eyes—dark blood-red, red like a funeral fire. This made her dead face even more terrifying. Masrae shuddered and said no more.

"But it's also possible! We can't just do nothing and just watch. Diego insisted. As far as he knew, in the original timeline, when the Dreadlord Varimathas and the royal apothecary rebelled in the Undercity, Queen Sylvanas fled the Undercity and regained power with the help of the tribe led by Thrall, but it is undeniable that this betrayal had dealt a very cruel blow to her heart, and in her heart, the last part of the insistence belonging to the living was finally extinguished, and she almost desperately identified with the identity of the undead, becoming more vicious and unscrupulous - digging graves and resurrecting the dead, Spreading the plague, what she did later was no different from Arthas, the Lich King!

Diego didn't want her to be like that at all, and what he had to do now was to support her in maintaining the last glimmer of light in her deepest humanity, because he knew how terrible and evil a Sylvanas had sunk into the abyss of darkness.

What's more, Diego loves Azeroth more than anyone else, loves this wonderful world even more, and he will never allow anyone to destroy it, never! No matter who you're up against!

Several people fell silent, and Masrae finally shook the massive bear's head, spewing hot air from his nostrils.

"I'll go with you." He whispered.

"Damn, count me in, I don't understand what you're talking about, but I think you seem right, man!" The blood spear spat hard into the ground and said.

"Okay, okay, I'll go too, anyway, your life was saved by you." The dwarf waved the iron rod in his hand and said with a big grin. The dwarves have never been an ungrateful people, and they are known for their steadfastness and loyalty to their friends.

"It doesn't take so many people." Diego smiled and said. He also didn't know how to keep the Banshee King from falling into darkness, but a large number of people didn't necessarily help.

"Hey man, we can't leave you here alone!" Blood Spear shouted dissatisfiedly.

"That's it, you go to the makeshift camp where we stayed before and wait for me, and if all goes well, where will I find you." Diego commanded without refusal.

With that, he turned and walked into the hall, with a firm and calm demeanor, as if he was just going to an ordinary banquet, rather than facing one of the most powerful and powerful people in the world.

Behind him, Bloodspear opened his mouth, intending to say something more, but the Night Elves stopped him.

"Do as he says, let's go," Masrae said, turning his head to look at the minotaur on his back, who was still unconscious, "Dezko needs to be taken care of too, his injuries can't be delayed any longer!" ”

Bloodspear hesitated, but obeyed, and the four of them turned around and walked back the way they had come. The city of death was not inhabitable for the living, especially for the few of them who were almost all wounded.

In the corridor, Diego pondered how to unravel Sylvanas as he walked, but no words pale to the Banshee King's tragic experience. He knew better than anyone the tragedy that had befallen this elven girl, the tragic past that could destroy the will of almost any bearer.

It is an epic tragedy, and for anyone who experiences it or spectators, it is a past that is difficult to look back on.

In the twentieth year after the Dark Gate opened, Arthas, the Death Knight, led his army of the Undead Scourge through the elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas. By the time the Scourge left, Quel'Salas had become a lifeless ghost realm, and the royal city of the High Elves, which had stood for more than 9,000 years, had ceased to exist.

At the beginning of that Great Patriotic War, full of sacrifice and loyalty, betrayal and destruction, the High Elf Ranger General Sylvanas? Windranger was a living elf, with long blond hair, blue eyes, a peach blossom-like complexion, and almost every inch of her skin sparkling with dazzling vitality, but she was defeated in her battle with Arthas.

She died, and her blooming life came to an abrupt halt at that moment, withering like an epiphany in bloom. Cold, intense pain, fear, darkness...... death was as painful as she had imagined, and the feelings of that moment were engraved in the deepest part of her soul like a nightmare, twisted and entangled with her fate, never to be separated. However, this is not the most terrifying of all, she did not fall into a long sleep - there was no soft darkness, no comfortable serenity, her soul was recaptured, cut out of the warmth and tranquility of the land of death, and when she woke up again, she painfully found that she had been resurrected - into an undead banshee in the service of Arthas.

In the days that followed, under the gaze of her once-blue and now scarlet eyes, her beloved compatriots, her beloved homeland - forests, rivers, gardens, buildings, ......, everything was completely destroyed! This once-glorious and beautiful magical city has collapsed, its glory scorched by the iron hooves of the undead army, and even the Well of the Sun, on which the elves depend! And she was even an accomplice to it all - at Artsace's behest, she unleashed her mighty Banshee Howl, destroying the elves' last line of defense!

Even more tragic is that, although she is also involuntary, unlike other unconscious, muddy walking corpses, she still maintains her sanity while doing all this, like a cold-blooded bystander, her cold body is manipulated by the Lich King to ruthlessly slaughter her former compatriots, destroying everything she loves, this involuntary betrayal and guilt makes her almost crazy, but the tenacity of the Ranger makes her finally persevere, until the day she breaks free from the control of the Lich King, who is too busy to take care of himself.

She was freed, but the bitter hatred for Arthas gnawed at her heart all the time, and this is what motivates her to "live" - complete revenge!

Yes, a mission of revenge! That was the only reason for her survival, the pillar that sustained her continued existence! To this end, she has worked hard to gather the bewildered Forsaken around her, giving them the courage and purpose to survive, crafting weapons, developing potions, and waiting for the day when she can make an expedition to Northrend in the north and overthrow the evil Lich King from his throne.

For years, she had painstakingly managed the stinking sewer city under the shattered royal capital of Lordaeron, amassing the power of vengeance, but the sudden rebellion had completely ruined her plans - fate mockingly gave her a bad hand and a glimmer of hope, only to overturn the tables as she approached her goal. Now, the last arrow in her quiver was also broken, and she didn't even have a chance to shoot it!

Looking at the almost piles of minced flesh and bones in the corridor, Sylvanas almost fell into despair. The last pillar of her perseverance was gradually crumbling. The blow was so heavy that another failure even began to make her wonder if she still had the strength and courage to persevere.

With no relatives and no friends, she is alone, and she doesn't care what she is going to face from the bottom of her heart. She just stood in the middle of the hall, her eyes closed, silent.

There was a dead silence in the empty hall, and the white magical flames on the walls were windless, casting distorted shadows in the hall. The shadow struggled eerily like a ghost, dancing its minions frantically.

In the midst of this silence, darkness grew and spread in the hall like a thick mist......

"To hell with this damn world, unleash the power within you. Pestilence! Corrode! Destroy! ......, this is the true power of death, and this is the true power that can help you get revenge! Sylvanas heard a voice screaming frantically from the depths of that painful and desperate heart, instigating her to destroy everything, even herself.

"No, that's not what I really think, and even though I'm dead, my heart still belongs to the noble Queldore! There is only one thing that I can remember, and that is the revenge on Salshas! Another voice rang out in the heart of the Banshee King, who struggled fiercely with what was left of her humanity, unwilling to be lost in the nightmare of darkness.

Sylvanas felt as if he had been torn in half, two very different thoughts quarreled fiercely in his heart, and gradually, the crazy thought seemed to gradually take over, and even if he did not sleep, the Banshee King still felt a little muddy, like walking through a muddy swamp, trying to break free, but there was nowhere to focus, and he fell deeper and deeper......

Just then, she suddenly heard footsteps outside the hall.

The Queen's ears twitched slightly, then she turned and looked at the exit of the corridor. She didn't leave her temple very often—as the ruler of the city, it was always someone else who came to see her.

She saw the exit of the corridor and saw a figure stepping on the blood stains on the ground and walking in from the corridor. A loyal yellow panther followed him closely.

It's the human who went and came back.