Under the moonlight of the Nagrand steppes, two men stood opposite each other, one heavily armed, holding a sword and a heavy shield, and the other wearing a casual robe, standing with their hands tied, the cold wind blowing through their bodies, making the robes of the great lord also fly and hunt.

His ice-blue eyes stared at Varian in a fighting stance across from him. Wrynn, compared to the memories of the burning Stormwind City years ago, is now a stronger physique, less graceful and less regurgitant as a king, more like a battle-hardened warrior, with a wild temperament that hides a furious soul.

He used humiliation as a driving force to push himself to constantly break through personal shackles, coupled with his extraordinary talent, in just a few years, he tempered himself into a true warrior.

It was clear from those eyes that his hatred for Tyrion had never waned.

But that hatred has become more "pure" over the years!

This was also what made the Great Lord feel puzzled, and he asked softly:

"You've been hiding for years, sharpening yourself in the most dangerous places in the worlds of Azeroth and Draenor, but why did you risk being discovered when the Empire launched a rescue for Mecatok? Is it the indignation of the heart? Did they contact you? Or did you do it for some reason? ”

"If you feel you still have a responsibility to the Empire, then why are you incognito when they migrated to Kalimdor and needed you the most? I also know that the Federation of Veterans has been looking for you, and they have detected your traces, Varian, but you have repeatedly rejected their invitations, so I'm curious... What exactly are you thinking about when you make these contradictory decisions? ”

Faced with Tyrion's inquiry, Varian's answer was succinct...

"Huh"

The heavy black sword roared and smashed into Tyrion's neck as if nothing was in the flip of his wrist, but between the high lord's silent hand, the sharp and powerful blade was easily caught in the air by the big lord's left hand, and he couldn't move an inch.

This blow is an answer, an invitation, and a challenge.

Tyrion looked at Varian's determined eyes, he nodded knowingly, and with a wave of his left hand, Varian's sword was thrown back, and was accurately picked up by the warrior in his hand, he struck the shield with his long sword, and looked at Tyrion.

The High Lord's fingers danced, and the heavy Ember Messenger appeared in the palm of his hand, and Tyrion held the heavy sword horizontally in front of him, and he stroked the sharp blade, he raised his weapon, and whispered:

"I mean... We'll have to talk. ”

"Bang"

Varian slammed his sword against his shield with a low thud, a sharp light flashing in his eyes, and he raised his sword, aiming it at Tyrion:

"I... Be all ears. ”

"Boom"

The figures of the two disappeared in place almost at the same time, the turbulent dirt and turf flew everywhere, and the momentum of the two collided in the night sky, and the sound of the collision of weapons carried the figures of the two people up and down, like a series of muffled thunder, echoing back and forth in the dark night.

The two men were like gladiators in close combat, staggering through each other in the swing of weapons and weapons, each blow full of force, the weapons wrapped in death energy and the fire of anger were so deadly... Of course, this is for Varian, who is much better than him, and his odds of winning are slim and slim, and Wari knows this.

But he must fight this battle!

Although it was not the final battle he imagined, since he had met his own mortal enemy, how could he flee in such a mess?

He's a warrior, even if it's dead... And die on the way to the charge!

"Bang"

In the brute force bombardment of the Great Lord, the steel shield on Varian's right hand was under the shadow of the Ash Bringer's sword, and soon a hideous crack appeared, but Varian still used the shield to block the Ash Bringer's bombardment regardless of it, and used the sword in his left hand to counterattack the Great Lord who was strolling in the court, and in the exchange of weapons, he roared loudly:

"I hate you, Tyrion!"

"Not only because you took away my son and wife, but also because you destroyed my country... Everything my father's legacy, the mission of the House of Ureon, Lothar, my second father, all this... It's all ruined by you! I once called myself the Child of the Storm, and I swore revenge for my people! ”

"Bang"

The heavy ash bringer and the black sword collided together, the two blades rubbing against each other rapidly, and in the firelight, Varian's eyes collided with Tyrion's, one angry, the other calm.

"And now?"

Tyrion asked, the two weapons parted in the next moment, the Great Lord took a step back, but the black sword shadow brought up by the Ash Bringer roared and slashed towards Varian from several directions, the latter's body rolled back a few times, and stopped retreating in a kneeling position, the black shield blocked the body, blocking the black sword shadow, but in the end, between the sword shadow dissipated, the hum of the Ash Bringer sounded again, and behind the sword blade, was the cold body of the Great Lord.

"Boom"

The sturdy shield was finally overwhelmed by the slashing of the blade, and the shield made of frozen steel was slashed into four pieces at the sound of steel tearing, but before it could burst, the warrior grabbed the sword and jumped out of the range of the Ash Bringer, and was not harmed by the burst shield.

Varian stood up breathlessly, the mouth of his shield-holding right hand had been torn open, blood all over his fingers, the faint sting that enlivened the fire of rage that swirled around his body.

He looked at Tyrion, under the helmet, there was no fear in those blue eyes, and he raised the black sword, and on either side of the blade, his face with the helmet was reflected:

"Now? Right now... I have left behind the hatred of the people. ”

"Oh?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Tyrion's mouth, but it was fleeting, he flipped his wrist, the Ember Bringer jumped, the black sword shadow tumbling around the High Lord's fingers, and he accentuated his voice:

"Why?"

"Because..."

Varian took a deep breath, and another high-level skill of the warrior was activated, and the angry power wrapped around his body gathered on the weapon in his hand, making it all over the fire of energy that danced like flames, and it looked as if it had been ignited, this scene also appeared on the battlefield of the Battle of the Northern Frontier, which was the martial art used by Lothar and Tyrion in battle.

Young Varian... It has also reached this realm.

"Because they don't need me to avenge them... I've traveled the world, and I've seen with my own eyes the lives of the people of the Stormwind Kingdom and the people of the Empire under the rule of the Federation... A better and more perfect life than before, they live more freely and with dignity, they have no worries about food and clothing, the resentment in the hearts of the people has been eliminated, they don't need me to be the avenger on their behalf... They also don't need anyone to represent them. ”

Varian looked up, his eyes clear beyond the flames of anger, and he said:

"I can't fool myself, the destruction of the Stormwind Kingdom is a disaster for the nobles, but maybe it's a good thing for the people I've always wanted to protect."

"I don't want to admit it, but the Federation is a good ruler, at least more qualified than us."

"It's good, hatred didn't destroy your sanity, it's good..."

Tyrion flicked his shoulders as he re-examined Varian in front of him and asked:

"Then why are you still here, as a challenger?"

"Boom"

The angry flames suddenly burst out at this moment, and in the middle of the flames, Varian, who was dragging the sword upside down, rushed towards Tyrion like a flaming lion, and with the blessing of the terrifying power accumulated in a short period of time, Varian's sword even ignited the air when it slashed through the air, and in that suffocating attack, Tyrian's heavy sword in front of him was severely bombarded.

"I'm not here as a king!"

"I'm a father!"

"Bang"

"A husband!"

"Bang"

"A son!"

"Bang"

"A man's identity!"

"Bang"

Four heavy blows in a row, finally repelled Tyrian's body standing in place, the Great Lord's expression became serious, he held the hilt of the sword with both hands, and launched a counterattack in the frantic offensive of Varian, who was blessed with the high-level skill "Death's Wish", but in the face of desperate high-level warriors, Tyrion was like returning to the battlefield in the northern frontier, facing another Lothar.

A younger version, with more potential for Lothar...

"I come for my son, for my wife, for my father, for myself!"

Varian leapt from the ground, his sword raised above his head, the frantically burning, converging flames of anger that spurred the sword into a near-melting state.

His roar thundered through the night.

"It's not about justice, it's not about justice, it's just for that..."

"I, Varian. Ureon! ”

"Challenge you!"

"Bang"

The sword that carried all of Varian's will and power fell with a bang at this moment, and at the moment when the blade rolled in anger, the heavy wind pressure blew Tyrion's long gray-white hair into a hunting sound, the Great Lord raised his head, he looked directly at Varian behind the sword, and looked at the eyes that contained the unyielding soul, those were burning eyes, those were the eyes that belonged to the warrior.

It was the eyes of a real man... A true fighter.

It was the fighter that Tyrion had cultivated himself, the first treasure to bear fruit in the Great Lord's countless experiments, and it was he who had opened the prologue of the legend for the man in front of him, and now, he was going to draw another stroke in this legendary story.

"Good..."

"Varian. Wrynn..."

"I, accept your challenge!"

"Boom"

A voice like a dragon's throat, all the power that belonged to the Great Lord of the Dark Blade was awakened at this moment, and the power of darkness enveloped the entire battlefield in an instant, behind Tyrion, the huge death energy was reorganized into a roaring dark dragon, and it crashed into Varian in the sky, while the human warrior's eyes widened, and a will to die was awakened in his heart, and under the impact of that will, Varian's fingers clenched his weapon made a clicking sound,

"Come on! Tyrion..."

"Kill me... Or, let me kill you! ”

"Boom!"

The wind in the night of the entire Nagrand Prairie became extremely noisy at this moment, and the sleeping orc shamans and draenei priests were awakened, along with the spectators who had fallen asleep around the gladiatorial arena, the warriors of all races, they rushed out of the rooms and tents, and looked up at the sky deep in the grassland.

In their stunned gazes, a black lightning bolt that pierced through the heavens and the earth hung between the sky of Draenor as if tearing through the sky, and behind the reflection of the black lightning, a faint blue light was reflected, which even obscured the brilliance of the stars, like a projection from another world.

And above the lightning landing point, there are layers of black mist that rotate wildly, like a tornado on the sea, in the endless spinning black mist, there is also a red fire burning wildly, like two ancient beasts fighting, even across the entire grassland, they can hear the sound like a giant dragon roaring...

The sound that shook the whole steppe... It was the sound of steel singing, it was the sound of battlefield fighting, and this spectacle appeared in less than 10 seconds, just like before it appeared, those rays of light and black lightning that danced vertically and horizontally, quietly dissipated.

Standing on the edge of the massive depression that had been blasted open in front of him, he carried the Ember Bringer wrapped in black fire, and turned his head to look over his shoulder, where there were still flames of angry fire and a deep crack that had been cut open by the blade, but the wound was rapidly healing with the support of a powerful soul.

And in the ravine in front of him, Varian. Wryon was lying at the bottom of the ravine in an embarrassed manner, most of his body was covered in cold, frozen earth, his whole body was covered in frostbite scars, he looked extremely embarrassed, and his black battle helmet was covered with the scars of sharp blades.

Obviously, the Great Lord did not make a dead hand...

"Ahem..."

Varian twisted his neck with difficulty, and in the helmet's vision, he saw Tyrion standing at the edge of the ravine, who was looking at him with a calm gaze, his ice-blue eyes empty, like a god who ignored all things.

"Sure enough... I'm still... Lost..."

A frank but difficult smile hung on the warrior's face, and he spread his hands and lay in the depths of the great depression that was frozen throughout, waiting for death.

"Come on, kill me, turn me into your... That's fine, me and my Tiffany... We can finally be together. ”

"No, Varian. Ureon. ”

Tyrion shook his head, he took something out of the storage ring on his finger, like a garbage, and threw it at Varian's hand, it was an ordinary two-handed sword, the gray appearance was unattractive, but the blade that glistened in the moonlight meant that it was a rare good weapon.

This... Presumably a bonus?

Tyrion waved his hand at Varian, who was waiting for death:

"You've passed... Lothar will probably be blinded too..."

"Get out! Fight your gladiatorial match well tomorrow. ”

"You owe my nephew a birthday wish... I'll admit you're a warrior anymore, so I'm always ready to welcome your challenge..."

"But next time... Varian..."

"It won't be that simple next time."