When I left Karazhan, I met a lot of people, and it can't be called a farewell, but I think it should be considered the most solemn farewell.

I can't remember all their names or looks, but I only remember the man named Barnes standing silently in the antechamber with his actors, who wore makeup and didn't have time to remove their makeup until their deaths. The girl named Juliet was actually really good-looking.

Cagliard was still carrying his lantern, Hastings was standing next to Bennett in uniform, and Sebastian was holding a bagpipe in his hand, and he played a farewell song for me. The guy in the armor was called Atumen, he was wearing a helmet, and I couldn't see the expression on his face.

There are so many people who have turned into ghosts, and they can only look at me silently like this.

There was no goodbye, Moros just waved his hand at me and said, "People shouldn't forget Karazhan!" ”

The door slammed shut, and it was still dark outside.

Looking up, I seemed to see the stars in the crevices of the stratus clouds, the rare starlight that witnessed the rise and fall of this place.

Suddenly I saw a flame pass through the clouds, but the flame spread its wings, and its huge body silently streaked through the sky, and then disappeared into the thick mist.

On the way back from Karazhan I met some humans, yes, a couple of guys on horseback. They were very surprised when they saw me. They didn't expect to see people like me in this kind of place, people who are alone.

They asked me if there was an old mage tower here.

Judging by the outfits they wore and the equipment they carried, these guys were exactly what Moros was talking about. I nodded, and walked over.

I didn't persuade them, after all, persuasion may not be useful.

Maybe that's the fate they should have.

Returning to the field again, there is always a lingering haze in my heart, I feel very aggrieved, but this aggrieved is like a rootless fire, irritable but helpless.

I think I should go see Anduin, I've never had a chance to see him after all these years of being buried at the foot of the Black Rock Mountain. Thinking about this makes me feel a little better.

People, I'm afraid there is no goal.

So I groped my way back along the ruined path. Perhaps it was a coincidence that I spotted the ogre's tracks, and the broken grass and trees on the side of the road told me that there were a dozen people who had just passed here.

In line with the principle of never looking for trouble, I hid my horse and followed the trail into the mountains. This rugged mountain road is difficult not to mention the heavy infantry, even the half-armed ordinary infantry is difficult to walk, and the ogres live in this kind of mountain.

But it's also relatively safe.

The grass in the mountain has all withered, and this kind of place can really be regarded as a barren mountain, anyway, not a single bird has ever seen it along the way, not even insects. I'm curious about how ogres survive in such a place?

After discovering their camp, the environment in that place was so much better than the outside! The camp was open-topped, stone-built houses, and wooden shacks. There is a circular fire pit in the middle of the camp, around which flags are erected and shelves on which some skinned animal carcasses are hung.

The camp is not small, and I counted the number of heads, about two hundred. These ogres all have one head, and I didn't find the kind with two heads. At night, they first ate and drank separately, and when it was completely dark, they all gathered around the fire pit, and surrounded the middle fire pit with three layers inside and three layers outside.

I was looking forward to meeting their leaders, who had a good impression of these strong, rude, savage, primitive things with the appearance of animals and the character of beasts.

I still remember the pot-bellied two-headed ogre I saw on the lonely mountain in the Burning Plains. People like Gul'dan seemed nothing to him.

But to my disappointment, the ogre, with his bare upper body and a head painted all over his body, walked to the edge of the fire pit, and everyone knelt on the ground in front of the guy in the middle.

He began to chant words.

The rough, heavy voice could only barely be heard by me, and I had no idea what they were saying.

It was a novelty to see the ogre cast a spell again, the flames turning from red to blue, the blue flames making the surroundings weird, everyone bowing down to the fire pit, they chanting in unison in devotion, the humming sound echoing through the valley. That's when the thing that scared my heart appeared!

The monster, naked and white, unable to stand and crawling on the ground on its hands and feet, appeared.

The scene in front of me suddenly pulled me back to decades ago, those white ghosts were so slippery that I felt as if there was no hair at all. Like ghosts, they emerged from the darkness I hadn't noticed, and then slowly walked through the middle of the crowd, past the prostrate, and gathered around the burning blue flames. Face to the flames and turn your back to the people.

And the spell-casting ogre began to stand behind each of the white ghosts, and he seemed to be reciting the glittering runic words on the back of the white ghosts. As he recited a sentence, everyone followed suit, and the flames around him became unstable as everyone chanted.

The caster in the middle became more and more agitated, he began to roar loudly, everyone raised their heads and raised their hands to start the same roar, their bodies were all strong, and the arms of the crowd began to swing like waves under the command of the caster.

At this time, several ogres dragged the live prey from behind to the fire. With rhythmic shouts and chants, they slaughtered the living creatures and poured the blood on the white ghosts, who were still kneeling by the fire.

Do you know how harsh that thing screams? When the twenty or so in that circle screamed together, I felt my ears "squeak", and suddenly it was like something was plugging my ears and something was separating them.

I quickly covered my ears, but the ogres continued to wave their hands as if nothing was wrong. They poured blood on the crowd, and the ogres began to stomp their feet, clapping their hands as they stomped, and the flames of the fire rushed into the sky!

Suddenly, the black clouds in the sky were pierced by blue pillars of light, and the earth began to shake and rumble.

Suddenly, a familiar voice came through my mind. "Welcome! Loyal Servants of the Elect! ”