"Bang"

On the final battlefield of the Champions Cup, the Draenei garrison with broken armor fell to the ground weakly, he was covered in blood, his left hand was cut off by the sword, and the only remaining right hand was clutching the war hammer, he looked up and looked at Varian standing in front of him, he saw the blue eyes under the black helmet, in those eyes, there was a gleam of apology.

"I'm sorry, but... I have a reason why I have to win..."

Varian raised his sword, and he whispered:

"There are 2 of them!"

"Hehe..."

The feeble garrison shook his head, closed his eyes in the face of the sword that had been slashed, and in the last surge of light, he whispered:

"Holy Light... The light makes us ever..."

"Wow"

Blinding blood splattered in all directions, and the last warrior of the mighty Shattered Sunset fell in a pool of blood, Varian looked at his fallen figure, he had no joy of victory in his heart, he knew that if he had changed the scene, he and these brave Draenei warriors might become good friends.

Both are followers of the Light.

But now, both sides are bloodied over what they both agree on...

"Huh"

The gray sword stabbed into the ground, and Varian gritted his teeth, took off his helmet, half-knelt on the ground, and placed it beside the Draenei, Valera and Bloody Fist stood behind him, and around the arena, the crowd had already cheered, but their celebration had nothing to do with the victory of the gladiator king.

"I don't want to be a gladiator anymore... Valeera, Bloody Fist... This kind of battle makes me feel disgusted. ”

Varian whispered, and behind him, Vali stretched out her hand and placed it on Varian's shoulder, the girl with blood on her face whispering:

"It's okay, no matter what you want to do, I'll be with you..."

Varian didn't respond to the loving voice, he looked up at the large platform directly in front of the arena, where Tyrion's figure had disappeared at some point, and in the black throne, in its place were the cheering children, and Anduin... Anduin's eyes widened, this was the first time the little prince had seen the face under the Black Ghost helmet.

Although he had never met his father, at this moment, the little prince still felt a trace of blood implication from the scarred face.

But now... Not the time to say this.

——————————————————————

One day later, on the city square of Shattrath City, the city defense general, the powerful paladin General Sarantis, looked at the three people in leather armor and hoods in front of him, and then looked at the large box full of gold coins under his feet, he had heard the news of the destruction of the Shattered Sun, but now, the gladiators of the Black Ghost gave all the gold coins they had won to Shattrath City.

This strange scene made this old general, who had lived for more than 20,000 years, not know what to say.

"I know that the warriors of the Shattered Sun went to participate in the gladiatorial tournament for the reconstruction of Shattrath City, and they are all respectable warriors... These coins are of little use to us, but I believe that it means a lot to the city. ”

Varian, who had trimmed his beard and hair, said to General Sarantis:

"Although the grudges in the gladiatorial arena should not be carried over to reality, as a sign of respect for the warriors, please accept these gold coins..."

General Sarantis wanted to refuse, but considering Shattrath's current situation, the tens of thousands of gold coins in this box could indeed serve as a big outpouring of money, at least the exiles in the slums would have a better life because of these gold coins... So after a moment of thought, the old general waved his hand, and several strong Delaney soldiers carried the box back to the city hall.

The Draenei bowed down to Varian in solemn respect, saying:

"There aren't many people like you in the world of Draenor... Either way, the whole city of Shattrath thanks you, if you need anything... We will do our best to be satisfied! ”

Varian shook his head, he turned his head to look at the two companions behind him, and said:

"We're going to leave this world soon, and we're not doing these things to earn gratitude, it's just... Forget it, so be it! Bye. ”

With that, the three gladiators pulled up their hoods and turned to leave the city square, where a group of people were waiting for them at the crossroads of the Teroka Forest after walking out of Shattrath City.

It was the gladiators who were willing to follow Varian through the world after the disbandment of the Black Ghost Warband, numbering nearly 200 people, and Marshal Windsor who had left the Dark Temple, an old man in a wheelchair, chatting with other gladiators, and after seeing Varian come out, he pushed his wheelchair and approached the former king.

"Your Majesty, you..."

"Don't call me that, Wendsol, call me Varian, I'm not a king now."

Varian stopped Wendsol's persuasion, he crouched in front of the old marshal, he looked at Wendsol seriously, and said:

"You, like me, have witnessed with your own eyes the society that the civilization of the Federation has built on our land, and you should see it better than I do, old marshal, our people no longer expect the return of the king in their hearts, for them we are the chaotic impression of the old era, they are better off than before, they have dignity, freedom... The rulers of the Confederation are better than we are. ”

"They are more qualified than we are to rule the land... And that land is no longer welcome to us, if we still carry the banner of kings and nobles, and lead the army to destroy the lives of the people there... So, what is the difference between us and the orcs that we once hated? ”

Varian patted the old marshal's hand, he smiled, and said calmly:

"Whether on the battlefield or in the hearts of the people, we have lost... It's time for us to see reality. ”

The old marshal wanted to say something, but Varian's heartfelt words reminded him of what he had seen and heard in the past few years, and finally, the old marshal nodded, he leaned back in his wheelchair, and smiled weakly:

"Perhaps, you're right."

"Maxwell and Gore and the veterans who have been loyal to you have also become lazy in recent years to look for your tracks, I thought it was because they had been corrupted by the life and power of the Federation, but now it seems that perhaps the one who has been ignorant is I... Maxwell and Gore heard the inner voice of the people, and they recognized the reality..."

Tears flashed in the old marshal's eyes, and he laughed:

"Only me, a stupid old bone, still nostalgic for the past... In their words, I may have been obsolete by the times, alas... In the end, it's all in vain. ”

"So, come with us, Wendthor."

Varian personally pushed the old marshal's wheelchair, and he said to the old marshal:

"I went to say goodbye to my son, and then we went to Stratholme, where last time I talked to Old Fordin, those paladins and the people they sheltered intend to establish a new state in the district of Stratholm, abandoned by the Darkblade... Protecting the last piece of the Empire's homeland, the tomb of the Emperor of Lothar is also there, so let's go there and live a good life there. ”

"Wait! Varian! ”

A deep voice accompanied by the fluctuation of the opening of the portal sounded behind the group, and Varian turned around to see Jean. Greymane strode out of the portal, the former King of Gilneth looked very thin, his eyes turned dull gray, Varian didn't know what kind of life Jean had been living in the past few years, but he could probably guess that the king's life might not be pleasant.

"Varian, you must fulfill your mission! Listen to me, the duty that belongs to the House of Urion is calling you, and you must go to Kalimdor and inherit the throne of king... You have to go! ”

Jean's low, hoarse voice made Varian frown, the self-exiled king had no idea of starting another inappropriate war after seeing the advancement of the Federation's civilization, and there was still hatred between him and Tyrion, but as he himself said, it was only a personal hatred, and it had nothing to do with the two systems.

"Jean, I can understand the anger and loss of the country, but you're free now."

Varian said to the king in front of him:

"You can take a boat to Kalimdor and re-lead the Gilnesians, I've heard they've won over there against the Centaur Barbarians, the Human Empire is being rebuilt, and I... I'm not going to be involved anymore, I just want to be with my son, with my wife, with my companions, and forgive me, Jean, for treating me like a shameful deserter. ”

"But I really can't ignore what I've seen, and then go back to the nobility and lead them in a war they shouldn't have started..."

"Nope! No, Varian! ”

Jean shook his head, his gaze swept over the crowd behind Varian, he took a deep breath, beckoned to Varian, and turned:

"Come with me, I have something to tell you... You're the only one, that chick, don't try to get close in the shadows... I can smell you! ”

Jean's warning caused Valira to stomp her foot in hatred, but Varian patted her on the shoulder, and the grumpy chick calmed down, and Varian looked back at Jean as he walked into the forest, he took the gray sword from Bloody Fist, and strode over.

In the dense forest of the Teroka Forest, Jean stood in the shadows, with his back to Varian, who looked behind Jean's back, his eyes narrowed, and he could see that in the shadows, Jean's body was rapidly changing shape, which made Varian subconsciously clench the hilt of his sword.

"Don't be afraid! I won't hurt you..."

Jean's voice sounded again, but it was more hoarse and dangerous than before, and the king turned around, and in the shadows of the dense forest, Varian saw a huge werewolf with its body stretched out, its gray mane, sharp claws, and the green light of its eyes shining in the shadows, which made Varian's gladiator instinct start to alarm wildly...

Standing in front of him was a terrifying... Extremely terrifying creatures.

"Jean! How did you become..."

Varian frowned, and he asked in a deep voice:

"How did you become a werewolf! Did Tyrion do it? That crumb! ”

"He did it, yes, but that miscellaneous thing has done enough..."

Jean waved his hand, he didn't want to discuss the issue too much, he looked at Varian, and he said:

"I've gotten the news, Varian, I'm not encouraging you to return to the Empire and start a war against the Darkblade and the Federation, with the current power of the Empire, there will be no ability to fight against the Darkblade for at least 10 years, I know this better than anyone, but the Empire is facing a crisis now, not from the Darkblade, listen to me... You must go back and save the soldiers and people of the Empire, those stupid boys, who are leading them into a dangerous trap! ”

"What do you mean?"

Varian put down his sword and asked:

"You mean the Empire is facing another war?"

"Worm Man! Qila worm people! ”

Jean took a sealed scroll from his pocket and threw it to Varian:

"The power hoarded by the Zerg people in the Great Desert of Silisus is more terrifying than the young kings of the Human Empire realize, judging from the information collected by the Darkblade Intelligence Bureau, the army they have gathered now is simply not enough to fight against the army of the Zermen, once they recklessly open the wall of beetles, it will only take 3 days, or less, for the Zermen to come out of the nest will drown all the troops that have stepped into the desert!"

"You must return to the Empire before they open the Beetle Wall and save the last of the forces of the Human Empire from the quicksands, once you lose those armies, there is no hope for the Empire, and, besides, the other half of your people, the other half of the people of the Stormwind Kingdom... Also there. ”

"How do you know that?"

Varian took advantage of the light of the jungle to take a rough look at the information recorded on the scroll, and if the information on the scroll was true, it would mean... Deep in the Great Desert at the southernmost tip of Kalimdor, the Zerg have laid a vile, massive, and terrible trap for the Imperial soldiers without anyone knowing.

But what made Varian even more puzzled was that the information recorded on this scroll was considered top secret even among the Darkblade Legion, and he saw the Darkblade Intelligence Bureau's secret mark engraved at the bottom of the scroll, Jean... How did he get it?

Under Varian's gaze, the werewolf in front of him let out a sad laugh, he pulled open his trench coat, and on the chest of the inner hunting suit, a silver wolf head, mixed with the symbol of a black broken blade, was impressive...

"Reacquaint, Varian. Wrynn, I am one of the Forgotten Kings... Jean representing Gilne. Greyman, there's no point in fighting for the freedom you've earned me in the gladiatorial arena, because... I have to join this organization. ”

"Why!"

Varian asked through gritted teeth, and Jean waved his hand in a lonely voice, his hoarse voice echoing through the darkness:

"Because only in this way can I leave the last army of the empire in the Eastern Continent... I'll hand it over to you. ”

"That was the last gift from the Greymans... Ghost Wolf, that's a legion that only you can control, and my only question is, are you willing to accept it? Are you willing to accept this task of turning the tide? ”

"You, the civilization you are willing to leave behind for your adoptive father and the emperor... Give everything you have? ”