Seriously, if he had enough free time, Tyrion would be willing to stay in the Defia Federation and watch how the new country that he was pushing grew and grew, but the problem was that he didn't have that much time.

After the fall of Stormwind, the next strategic place to be taken is the copperbeard dwarf city of Ironforge Fort in Kazmodan, which was built in the snowy mountains of Kazmodan, unlike the Dark Furnace City, which extends in all directions underground, you can only enter the main gate of Ironforge, and when the old tribes swept the continent, when they were the most powerful and the Seven Nations Alliance was out of breath, the orcs who stayed in Kazmodan failed to break through the main gate of Ironforge.

When it comes to comfort and beauty, Ironforge is not at all the number one in the world, but when it comes to sturdiness and trickiness, Ironforge is definitely the undisputed number one.

Therefore, to contribute to Ironforge, you can only use some special methods, but fortunately, an attack plan against Ironforge has already been implemented, and if all goes well, in about 1 month, this most troublesome city in the whole of Azeroth will fall into the hands of Tyrion.

And there is another important matter waiting for Tyrion to deal with rather than watching the development of the new human nation.

Ansu, the god of ravens who had been sent to Kalimdor a few years earlier, had finally fulfilled his promise.

Just 2 days ago, several mysterious people appeared in the Zangar swamp in the world of Draenor, and they took the initiative to contact the Death Knights patrolling the sky, saying that they had come on behalf of a powerful man to see Tyrion with their own eyes. Dawnblade.

And judging by the decorations of those mysterious people, they should be the ones Tyrion has been waiting for... Druids.

The Dark Temple had reached above the Zangar Swamp, hovering high in the air, casting a serene shadow on the lake below, with a hint of hideousness that could not be ignored.

There were two druids who had sneaked through the Dark Gate to reach Draenor, two men and one woman, both wearing their traditional animal skin robes and holding thorny staffs in their hands, looking quite wildly beautiful.

Led by the acolytes of the human ghosts, the three silent druids walked through the dim paths of the Dark Temple to the meeting room, where the Blood Mistress was already waiting for their guests.

Aurelia sat on the main seat, looking at the two purple-skinned Night Elves in front of her, her eyes were somewhat distrustful and hostile, the distrust of the dead to the living was instinctive, but the hostility came from the filth between the High Elves of Quel'Salas and the Night Elves that had lasted for thousands of years.

Darth Rema, the ancestor of the High Elves. The Sunchaser, it was because he was quite excluded and suppressed in the Night Elf society that he broke away from the immortal society in a fit of rage, and led his people across the endless sea, and finally settled in Quel'Thalas, although this self-exile is nominally a collision between two faiths, but to be honest, to say that there is no political element in this, it is pure self-deception.

The High Elves believe in the power of magic, and in earlier times, during the Elven Empire ruled by Queen Azhara, the High Elves were the noble class of the empire, while the Night Elves were only commoners, they had no access to magic, and maintained their faith in the moon god Elune, and after Queen Azhara and the Dark Titan Sargeras made some evil deals, the entire Elven Empire collapsed, and finally the Night Elves rebuilt the Elven society under the leadership of the heroes.

The belief in Elune has made a comeback, and the position of the High Elves who betrayed Queen Aishara in the war and sided with the Night Elves is very awkward, but that was 6,800 years ago, and although this mutual hostility and hatred still flowed in the veins of both sides, at least today, Aurelia suppressed her inner disgust for the Night Elves, at least on the surface.

Because she represented the Darkblade Legion and Tyrion at this time, not Quel'Thalas.

"High Druid Moyana, salute you, Mistress of the Darkblade."

The female druid with long red hair but a cold face leaned over Aurelia slightly, her attitude was full of the social style of the Night Elves, calm, indifferent and with a hint of innate pride.

Behind him, the two tall male druids had similar expressions, and one of them was even more cold, looking like a qualified bodyguard and retinue, but introduced himself by name:

"High Order Druid Oult. Statin! ”

The other druid, dressed in a yellow robe and with long purple hair, was a little softer, but there was always a sad glint in his eyes:

"Sererien. Whitepaw, apprentice druid. ”

"Huh?"

This made Aurelia curious, as a messenger, sending a powerful druid to the world of necromancy can completely guarantee her own safety, but what is this lowly trainee druid doing here?

Is he a hidden man?

Aurelia's gaze lingered on Whitepaw for a moment, but quickly rejected her own idea, Sererion lacked the temperament of a big man, and he should really be just an ordinary trainee druid.

And while Aurelia was observing them, the indifferent female druid spoke again:

"I had dinner with His Majesty Darth Rema, and my father and I regret that he finally chose to leave the Cadore Society... But I hope that the contradictions between the two communities will not affect the purpose of my trip. ”

"Your father?"

The Blood Mistress savored these words, she lazily supported her chin with her hands, looked at Moyana, and asked softly:

"May I know your father's name?"

"Of course, he called..."

"Deer Helm."

Another cold voice sounded behind the druids, and Moyana turned back to see the door of the parlor slowly open, and Tyrion, dressed in a robe and wearing a blue tiara, strolled into the room, and looked at the three messengers in front of him with ice-blue eyes, and after a moment, he whispered:

"Grand Druid Vandal. I have heard of the name of the deerhelm, even in this remote little world, and you, Lady Moyana, can make you leave your little daughter in the valley of ashes and travel thousands of miles to meet a group of druids' most hated necromancers, presumably, you must have a heavy but extremely important mission. ”

Tyrion swept past the three druids, and when they were closer, the cold male druid stepped forward without moving, blocking Moyana and Whitepaw, apparently Tyrion's presence made him feel dangerous.

But the Lord of the Blades did not do anything to them, but stepped forward and sat down beside his wife, and he reached out to take her waist and leaned back in his seat in a relaxed manner, and after the door of the parlor closed again, there were only five of them left in the whole hall.

"Generally speaking, the living take the initiative to see the necromancy, either to pursue death or to escape death, but the Night Elves are immortal, so I guess you are here with the third purpose, and there are no more people now, let's say."

Tyrion nodded, his gaze falling on Moyana:

"I'm listening."

"I heard a lot about Tyrion along the way. The story of the Dawn Blade, in which you always appear as a wise and mysterious person. ”

Moyana stepped forward and looked at Tyrion fearlessly, her beautiful blue eyes shining with a faint longing:

"I've also seen death knights who are indistinguishable from the living, and the rumors are true, you have the power of death in your hands, and you can bring the dead back to life in full form... It's something that even the greatest life magic can't do, and we, we're here for it! ”

"Resurrection? No, I can't do that. ”

Without hesitation, Tyrion admitted his shortcomings, and as he looked at the druids in front of him, he said in a deep voice:

"The souls of Azeroth will become mutilated after death, even the Night Elves who will not enter Hell, your souls will return to the World Tree, I have seen that scene myself, I am sorry, but I can't do anything about your death, at least for now, I can't interfere with the World Tree's bondage of your souls."

"But what if before the World Tree is planted?"

The apprentice druid suddenly stepped forward, and White Paw asked in a whisper:

"What if it was a soul that died in the Great Tribulation 10,000 years ago? I can guarantee that her soul is intact, but the evil will has seeped into that soul, and her body has also been infused with dark power, like the walking dead, can you save such a death? ”

"Your name is Whitepaw?"

Tyrion looked at the yellow-robed druid, he looked closely at the strange elf, and he saw the whiter skin of the white claw, and the hidden magic in his body, although faint, but real.

"You're not a Night Elf, you're an Upper-Elf!"

The King of the Dark Blades is amazed:

"I really didn't expect that now, 10,000 years later, I can still see a living upper elf with my own eyes, and your soul is not bound by the World Tree, so I think I should be able to save that poor soul."

Tyrion pursed his lips, and he asked with a hint of malice:

"But the problem is, you're a druid, aren't you? For such a polluted soul, with my understanding of your ways, shouldn't you purify her body and let her soul return to freedom, to the cycle of nature? ”

Sererien. White Paw clenched his fists in pain, and tears even appeared in his eyes:

"Annaya, she's... She is my wife, 10,000 years ago, the demon destroyed Amisaran, and my Annaya also died in that disaster, I thought I would never see her again in this life, but just a few years ago, the magic of the Black Sea changed, and many unwilling ghosts appeared in the ruins of Amisaran, including... My Annaya. ”

"The mentor asked me to end Annaya's pain with my own hands and give her relief, but I can't..."

"Whitepaw is a very talented druid."

The indifferent Druid Oult who never spoke. Statin patted his choked companion on the shoulder, and he looked up at Tyrion:

"He was my best friend 10,000 years ago, and his love for Annaya was a true manifestation of unswerving commitment, and he was in pain, so this time we brought him with us, and if you can help him, you will reap the benefits of my personal kindness."

"Goodwill? What do I want this for? ”

Tyrion smiled disdainfully, his fingers darting on his knees, and a moment later, he threw a pendant encrusted with a blank soul stone to Serillion, and he whispered:

"To bring her soul to me, it only takes a simple requiem ritual to calm the soul that has gone mad from the pain of death, of course, if you want your wife to remain intact, then it is best to bring her dead body with you, and I will not hesitate to lend a helping hand to any soul that can still preserve its sanity and mind in the torment of death."

"After all, regardless of their race or creed in life, they are my true compatriots after death."

"Thank you, thank you."

Sererion bent down sincerely to thank him, but just as he was about to leave, Tyrion's cold voice sounded behind him:

"Have you forgotten something, Mr. Whitepaw?"

"I've given you the help you need, and what about your pay? I haven't seen it yet. ”

"Whitepaw is about to become my father's disciple, and if you can help him understand the knot, you will undoubtedly get one from the Great Druid..."

Moyana whispered, but before she could finish speaking, she was interrupted by Tyrion reaching out:

"I have already said that the kindness of the living means nothing to me! Even if it's a great druid, I value something more practical, and besides, I don't think you're qualified to help Mr. Sererion make decisions. ”

He looked at the apprentice druid whitepaw, he narrowed his eyes, smiled and said:

"Since even Mr. Deerhelm thinks you are very talented, after your wife's perfect recovery, why don't you join us with her, Mr. Serrelien, if you really love her as you say, and want to be with her until you are old, then I don't think you will refuse this offer."