Prince Farodis slept soundly.

It was almost the best sleep he'd had in 10,000 years since he was cursed, and the magical prince of the Elven Empire dreamed of the ancient past, the glitz and glamour of the reign of Empress Azhara in a sweet dream.

In the dream, he returned to the prosperous and prosperous gold. Aishara, enjoying the beautiful night view in the Queen's gorgeous heavenly court.

He went to Surama again, the pearl of the Elven Empire, the unique magic tree that merged with the great city shrouded in the silver moonlight, it was a scenery that made people linger.

After sipping his wine, he travels through the portals connecting the various provinces of the empire to the tranquil land of Eresaras, where he discusses the obscure knowledge of mystical magic with his colleagues and close friends, Torcedrin, another magical prince who manages Eresaras, in a forest city full of valuable knowledge and the Queen's treasures.

The two talked happily, and in the dream, they were even more like they hadn't seen each other for a long time, and they chatted with a hint of sadness, and they were busy for a long, long time, and finally, Prince Farodis returned to Assuna, the elven city he managed, and his court was not as good as gold. Aishara was so opulent, but the ancient court covered with vines was where he was born and raised, and it was his home.

Amid the cheers of the night watchmen at the court of Farodis, Prince Farodis walked into the court, the beautiful lady of the guard, Eddie, reached out to take his staff and cloak, and before his eyes, his most loyal captain of the guard, Sades, pushed open the door of the inner court for him, his court courtesy minister, the charismatic Lady Eders, brought him a hot drink, and the inner court minister, Elder Eders, was nowhere to be seen... Probably in the name of dissemination, to hook up with those civilian ladies.

In the memory of Prince Farodis, the elder who taught him the history of the nobility from an early age was such a "merry" figure.

Oh, by the way, he must have remembered a skilled bartender... What's his name?

The memory of Farodis became blurry at this moment... Everything in front of him, all the dreams, began to distort, and Lady Arisser, who was standing beside him, became hideous, like a banshee summoned by necromantic magic, she screamed and threw herself at her, and the gorgeous palace in front of Prince Pharodis's eyes became ancient and old in an instant... It's like a ruin abandoned in time.

Everything is shattered...

Like shattered pieces, Farodis stood in the chaos in a daze, not knowing what was happening, until the next moment, he was completely engulfed by the darkness rising from under his feet.

Everything is shattered... Everything is lost, it was just a dream... He remembered, he ruined it all with his own hands...

He, the murderer!

"No !!"

Prince Farodis's eyes were completely open at this moment, but instead of the dilapidated court he saw every day, he was greeted by a stone roof draped in silk, which looked like a castle room, and on the silk above his head, a black sign with a broken blade was drawn, which looked like the symbol of an organization.

Awakened from his nightmare, Prince Farodis sat up from his fluffy bed, and looked around with some blankness, and the walls of the surrounding stones were dotted with many decorative weapons, as well as some elaborate specimens and gemstone decorations, which were completely misplaced in the eyes of Prince Farodis's superb aesthetics, and looked like treasures of various civilizations were piled up haphazardly.

Well, full of nouveau riche temperament.

But those vivid specimens represent the great martial arts that the owner of this place cannot hide... On the stone wall, on the wooden shelf, was the head of a giant insect lord, whose dull eyes reflected the horror of the hideous creature before it died, and next to the insect specimen was the severed skeleton of the Doomsday Lord.

There was also a sconces decorated with goron teeth, and a picture frame made of keel with a group photo of the family of the Great Lord, and in the square of Shattrath City, the heartless happy smile of the silly girl Dornan always infected every guest who saw it.

Prince Farodis stood beside these special "crafts", and thanks to his good aristocratic education, he kept the proper etiquette of a guest, and did not touch these priceless things, but examined them with a discerning aesthetic, and at the same time tried to discern from these collections some of the characteristics of the owner of the place... The least is a hobby.

This aristocratic analysis continued until the arrival of an attendant.

"Bang"

The door to the room was gently pushed open, and an upper-class elf dressed in a red cloak and black gown appeared in front of Prince Farodis, the current consul of the Sindra Elves, the head of the 13 lords of Sindra. Yongying leaned slightly over the magic prince with the same etiquette he had done ten thousand years ago, and he said in a hoarse and deep voice:

"Please come with me, Your Excellency Farodis, the Prince of Magic, the master of this place is waiting for you."

"Huh?"

Prince Pharodis turned his head, a hint of curiosity flashed on his illusory face, he looked at the standard upper-class elf in front of him, and he asked in a low voice:

"Do you recognize me? Have you seen me before? ”

Mordant. Yongying raised his head, his blood-red eyes made Prince Pharodis frown, it was obvious that the upper elf in front of him had been polluted by some kind of power that favored negative energy, but perhaps he still retained his sanity.

"Yes, Prince Farodis, I've seen you more than once in the library of Eresaras, and of course, 10,000 years ago I was just a magic apprentice... I've seen you, but you can't remember me, and that's okay, 10,000 years has changed so much, and for those of us who are ancient relics, it's a great comfort to see every surviving compatriot. ”

A cold and sincere smile flashed across Eternal Shadow's thin face, and this Sindrasa Leyin made a "please" gesture sideways:

"Come with me, Prince of Magic, please don't keep the High Lord waiting too long."

"Okay."

Prince Farodis stretched out his hand to adjust the magic robe on his illusory body, he picked up his magic scepter that never left his body, followed Mordant, and walked out of the room of the castle, although he was a strange ghost, but Prince Farodis still walked in the same way as ordinary people, as a rare awake person among ghosts, he was not the same as his poor compatriots who were trapped in the fault line of memory, he clearly knew how difficult the time of these ten thousand years was.

"What's your name? Syndra Elf. ”

Prince Farodis asked softly, and Yongying said without looking back:

"My name is Mordant. Eternal Shadow, Lord Farodis, I was the magician of Prince Tosedrin, but unfortunately Prince Tosedrin, who had been imprisoned for ten thousand years, had become insane due to too much exposure to the evil power that had been exploited, and I had to end his miserable life with my own hands. ”

"You! You actually killed your own lord! Great rebellion! ”

Prince Pharodis clenched the magic scepter in his hand at this moment, and a trace of anger flashed through his heart, but Yongying didn't care:

"I know that Prince Tosedlin is your best friend, Lord Farodis, but with all due respect, times have changed, and if you see with your own eyes what kind of monster Tosedlin has become, I am sure you will kill him with your own hands... He was no longer the wise prince of magic of the upper elves, and under that rotten shell, he had become a monster like a demon. ”

"Sindra is finally free after 10,000 years of imprisonment, we now have no lord, no class, we are one of the races under the rule of the Union, our people have enjoyed the first light of freedom in their lives, they live happily and fully... Therefore, I don't regret stabbing that sword, or rather, it was the first right thing I did in my life. ”

Eternal Shadow's footsteps stopped at the door of the hall in front of him, and he glanced back at Prince Pharodis with a blood-red gaze, and he whispered:

"Sindra is free, Lord Farodis, perhaps, your people will be free, from this ghostly curse... Of course, it's up to you... Go, the Great Lord is waiting for you. ”

"For the sake of the past, Lord Farodis, don't anger him."

——————————————

The interior of the castle of the Grimblade Legion in the Dead Realm was not extravagant, it was more like a standard military unit than a comfortable place to live, and even the hall used for receptions was very modest, with a large burning fireplace, a red carpet that covered the floor, and a large portrait hanging on the wall at the front of the hall.

It was a portrait of the Dead Lords and the Forgotten Kings of the Darkblade Legion, a sign of status and a memorial.

As Farodis walked into the hall, Tyrion was sitting by the fireplace, in the glow of the warm flames, reading a military report on the actions of the three legions of Darkblade on the continent of Northrend, where a large part of Howling Bay and Grizzly Hills had fallen under Darkblade's control, and the Viku "rebellion" there had been swept away.

Danas as commander. Thorbain is searching for an important target in the Grizzly Hills, the "Soul Bear" formed from the fragments of the soul of the wilderness demigod Ursok, and of course, the Darkblade warmongers are planning an invasion of the Zudak region further west, where they are said to have strategic targets several of the Loa gods of the Frosttroll faith.

Tyrion generally does not interfere in this kind of military operations, but as a leader, he must be in charge of the overall situation, so now basically his daily job is to read these reports and military plans, and from time to time put forward some of his own opinions, the advantage of a complete bureaucratic system is that many things do not need to be done by the leader himself, and his subordinates will do things according to plan.

"Well, you're awake?"

Tyrion closed the papers in his hand and placed them on the table, and he beckoned to Farodis behind him:

"Come, sit here, let's talk."

Prince Farodis did not refuse, he sat on the chair beside Tyrion in the proper posture of an upper-class elven nobleman, he looked at Tyrion, and after seeing the distinctive pointed ears of the Great Lord, the Prince of Magic whispered:

"You're an elf too? Upper elves? Or the Night Elves? ”

"Well, stupid bloodline."

Tyrion did not hide his disgust at the elven classification, he took a bottle of blood wine from the wine cabinet on the side, added ice cubes to it, and then picked up two glasses of red wine, and handed one of them to Farodis:

"But if you had to get to the bottom of it, I'd tell you that I'm a High Elf, somewhere between the High Elves and the Night Elves... You could think I'm a degenerate from the upper elves, after all, when Darth Rema decided to create the Sunwell, he didn't expect it to have such a huge impact on his descendants. ”

"Magic permanently changes our appearance, as well as our souls."

Farodis nodded, he looked at the wine glass handed over by the Great Lord, and the colorful halo reflected by the wine in the wine glass in the firelight, he shook his head a little gloomily:

"It's not that I refuse your kindness, but I'm a ghost, I don't have a substance... I can't enjoy it. ”

"Oh?"

Tyrion took a sip of the cold liquor, his eyes squinted, savoring the sensation of the wine swinging in his taste buds, and looking at Farodis, he whispered:

"Wise as you, haven't you noticed it yet? Prince Farodis, when you stand in front of me... You've got your body back... You're welcome. ”

Under Tyrion's reminder, Prince Pharodis lowered his head and looked at his soul body that seemed more and more condensed in the warm firelight, except for the lack of flesh and blood, the illusion of the abnormal ghost had disappeared from his body, and before he knew it, he could even feel the warmth of the fire burning in the fireplace.

That strange sense, something he hadn't felt in the past 10,000 years of soul imprisonment.

At this moment, even the wisest magic prince in the Elven Empire, Farodis looked a little dazed, he reached out and took the wine glass handed by Tyryon, feeling the slight coldness of the glass reflected in the tips of his fingers, he was like a dirt bun, put the red wine under his nose and sniffed, the strange sweetness with a hint of blood, that strange sense of smell even made the taste buds of the magic prince burst.

Eventually, he shuddered slightly, put the wine in his hand to his lips, and felt the cold liquid flow down his tongue into his mouth, the chaotic taste that made his eyes widen at this moment, as if he had been struck by lightning.

This sluggish posture lasted for nearly ten seconds, until Tyrion's coughing woke him up, and Prince Pharodis was no longer hostile or vigilant at this moment, and his green eyes stared at Tyrion in front of him again, and he said astringently:

"You... Who are you? Queen Azhara's curse was actually imposed by you... By you..."

"Azhara, the most powerful woman in the history of Azeroth, I confess the complexity of the curse she has cast through the Tidestone, the principle of that curse is so obscure that I can't unravel it, I confess."

Tyrion shook his glass, and he looked at Prince Pharrodis:

"But I don't need to unravel it, you're ghosts, a special variant of necromantic creatures, but you're still necromancy... As long as you are a necromancy, you have to obey the rules I have set for this land..."

The High Lord drank the rest of the wine in one gulp, he put down his glass, and looked at Prince Farodis with a smile:

"Then reacquaint yourself, me, Tyrion. Dawnblade, this hell's... Ruler. ”

Please remember that the first domain name of this book is:. Nine Heavenly God Emperor mobile version reading website: