"Buzz"

The purple magic glowed, and Tyrion, each holding something in his hands, returned to the enclosed rooftop on the top floor of Karazhan.

He looked like he had gone through a big scuffle, his armor was gone, and all that was left was a barely intact pair of pants, and the Death Knight was shirtless, looking dark and depraved.

In front of him, the closed rooftop, which had barely been kept intact before, had been torn apart by the magic of the crazy collision like the most tragic post-war ruins, and under the effect of the huge magic, those scattered stones were scattered on the platform that had lost its integrity in a posture that violated the rules of gravity, and at first glance, this platform seemed to be no longer in Karazhan's original position.

It wasn't even within Azeroth's range anymore, and around the platform, there was a cold, silent starlight.

It seems that when he was busy, Khadgar and Medivan were not idle, and the master and apprentice started a big brawl among the stars, as for the result.

The Great Lord of the Dark Blade glanced back at Khadgar, who was sitting in a chair behind him, his breath was weak, and the magic power around him was beating chaotically, and even the six golden rune locks had become dim... Obviously, in this master-apprentice duel, he lost.

Tyrion looked back at Medivan who was standing on the other side of the platform with difficulty, the last of the Guardian's soul body had become dim, his magic was rapidly dissipating, even his own existence was difficult to maintain, under his robes, the position of his feet was empty, and it was obvious that his soul had also escaped quickly after suffering a heavy blow.

"Oh, it looks like you didn't win either."

Tyrion shrugged his shoulders and threw the two things in his hand at Medivan's feet, and he backhanded out the already extremely satisfied Demon Blade Apocalypse, and placed it on the ground, introducing Medivan:

"On the left is Magna. Lady Egwen, a living man who lived for 1,000 years, is dead. ”

"On the right is Merry. Mr. Winter Wind, a dead man who lived for almost 5,000 years, is also dead. ”

He looked at Madison and said calmly:

"Your little team has been broken up by me, everyone associated with you is dead, you see, you're a broom star, Mr. Medivan, but since Khadgar has already lost, I think it's time for us to start a second rendezvous."

"Buzz"

The blade of dark red energy pulsed at the silent Medivan, and after the strange transformation of her body, the death energy that could be contained in Tyrion's body further increased, and then evolved into another form.

The kind of small, faint lightning sparks that appear from time to time look very cool, and... Dangerous!

"Grand Lord Tyrion of the Knights of the Darkblade. Dawnblade, challenge you, the last Guardian, Medivan! ”

Faced with this challenge, Medivan did not answer immediately, he bent down, in the rapid escape of soul and magic, the action seemed difficult, he knelt in front of the two corpses in a half-kneeling position, he reached out and slowly closed the lifeless eyes of Lady Egwene.

"I used to hate her, when I was younger, I can remember only my father with me, Mr. Elan, he was strict and strict, but every time after I completed a difficult coursework, my father rewarded me, took me to the best tavern in Stormwind City for a big meal in the golden roses, and occasionally took Ryan and Lothar, who were my age, on a hike in the Wild West, and it was the best part of my memory."

Medivan's voice was weakened by the blow, and his equally illusory fingers stroked Ms. Egwen's cheek, helping her wipe away the blood that had remained on her face, and there was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"And my mother, she rarely appears in front of me, a year, two years... I've only seen her a handful of times, and every time we meet is short-lived, so short that I don't have time to experience the feeling of motherly love, she's stricter than my father, and every time she returns, she teaches me forbidden weird magic, I hate those... At one time, I was disgusted with my innate responsibility and strength. ”

"Until, until the night I lost my father, the uncontrollable magic caused me to tear a third of the palace apart, and my father died in that storm to protect me, and my mother, at the very beginning of my coma, I could feel that she was by my bedside, she looked at me helplessly, tears were dripping from her eyes, I had never seen her so sad and helpless with a serious and determined face... She called my name over and over again, and eventually, she broke down, and she confessed to me, helpless like an ordinary woman, even more vulnerable. ”

"From that moment on, I forgave her."

Medivan withdrew his finger and he stood, manic magic gathering in the ruins of the platform, and in the illusion of the stars, the angry Guardian deflected even the light of the stars.

He looked up, his always wise eyes filled with rage, and he reached out, and the staff of the Guardian, which had been set aside by Khadgar, returned to Medivan's hand like a returning bird's nest, a frenzied spark of lightning pulsing around his body, filling the eyes of the lonely soul with lightning and thunder.

"But now, I've lost them! Because of you, because of you cold-blooded and ruthless monster! ”

He took a step forward, a silvery-white arc drawn from the edge of his eyes, and he stared at Tyrion as he pointed the staff in his hand at him:

"Tyrion. Dawnblade, not as a Guardian, but as Magna. Egwen and Neras. The identity of Elam's son... I accept your challenge! ”

"Revenge for my parents who died at your hands!"

"Boom"

Bright lightning sparks rained down from the sky, shining into the figures of Medivan and Tyrion swinging his sword, and Khadgar, who watched all this, stood up with the weak lich holding on to the wall, he straightened his robes, and bowed to the battlefield where magic and death collided wildly.

It's like the most solemn goodbye.

"My mentor... Go all the way..."

—————————————————

It's hard to describe the course of this shocking battle, and Medivan, as the last guardian, was defeated by Nelas, the best mage hunter of the Tyrius Mystic Order. Elan and Egwen, the Guardian who had held the Guardian's magic for the longest time, taught at the same time, plus the time when the Dark Titan was hiding in his soul.

This rare experience made Medivan unrivaled in the world in terms of magic, and in fact, Medivan may have been proficient in all of Azeroth's magical systems, from the night elves' mystical prayer magic, to the druids' obscure natural magic, to the trolls' sinister sorcery, or the High Elves' own subtle spells.

Even elemental magic from the world of Draenor, evil magic from demons, and psychic magic from Nasrezm.

And he also has enough magic power to support him to unleash these weird, completely impossible spells to appear on a person.

It's like being bombarded by an entire mage corps, and in the whirlpool of irritable magic, the death knight Tyrion, even with all his powers, is like duckweed in the wind, trying to maintain his body in the wind and then fighting back.

"Bang"

Dark green lightning fell from the sky like a knife on the Death Knight's shoulder, and in the midst of the evil energy, his left arm was completely wrapped in a dark green scorching light, and the icy frost storm quickly tore through the anti-magic shield held up by the Death Knight, swarming and smashing into his scorching left arm.

The extremely hot flesh and blood were quickly cooled by the extreme cold, and the catastrophic consequence was that the arm was torn apart piece by piece like steel thrown into the void rift in the collision of the two forces.

It is the most horrific punishment in the world.

"Buzz"

The Demon Blade in Tyrion's right hand slashed off his completely necrotic right arm before the tearing wound could extend to his body, and the Death Knight looked at the severed arm on the ground, and then at Medivan in the sky who was in a storm of magic like a demon god, whose eyes were cold and merciless, and there was no doubt that Medivan was torturing him in this way.

The sheer amount of magic gathered by the desperate Guardian could destroy Tyrion's body in an instant, but for a badly injured soul, carrying such extreme pressure was equivalent to rapid suicide.

Medivan originally just disappeared with his feet, but now, his body has completely dissipated from the waist down, and the sparks of his soul are scattered in this starry sky, representing Medivan is dying quickly, in the true sense of the word.

"It's not over yet!"

Tyrion gritted his teeth, and the mutation of his body brought by the blood from Kazak behind him, the huge black wings produced flapped, allowing him to quickly rush out of the ground, holding the magic blade in one hand, and in the shroud of dark red light, he cut through the oncoming magic and spells, just like Mars hitting the earth, and slammed his body into Medivan's magic shield.

This very childish blow did not hurt Medivan at all, on the contrary, the death knight who collided head-on was restrained in the air by the heavy magic power, and even the right arm holding the weapon was imprisoned to death.

Medivan calmly looked at Tyrion in front of him, who was about to be crushed by a little bit of magic, and he asked:

"Come with me, Tyrion, your absence is a blessing to the world. So I'll just ask you, are you going to repent sinners! ”

Tyrion raised his head with difficulty, his ice-blue eyes staring at Medivan, who was about to die, and a smile suddenly appeared on his face:

"You're lonely, Medivan, you have no friends."

"Hmm"

"But I have!"

Two bronze sparks flashed in the reflection of the Death Knight's eyes, burning like torches in the tide of magic rolled up by Medivan.

"I've found a new friend, Medivan... This time, I invited them to come with me. ”

"Witness the Guardian's Demise!"

"Click, click"

Two chains representing the power of time crossed the thick tide of magic one left and one right, and buckled on Medivan's body, and the full operation from the two bronze dragons allowed the power of time to fill Medivan's body at this moment, forcibly cutting off the connection between him and the magical storm he controlled.

Sefir and Chromie's faces were not easy, and it was not so easy to control the desperate Guardians.

"Bang"

Losing the shackles of his magic, Tyrion slammed to the icy ground, but the next moment, he rose from the ground with his magic blade, carrying the humming apocalypse, step by step towards the guardian imprisoned by the chains of time on the edge of the platform.

As he walked forward, a hint of hideousness flashed in his eyes, and the arc of that sinister smile became more and more obvious on his cheeks, until he stood in front of Medivan, looking at those dark and stubborn eyes, he waved the apocalypse.

"Goodbye, Medivan!"

The next moment, the magic sword fell suddenly, but at the same time, a cold palm rested on Tyrion's shoulder, and Khadgar's jerky voice came:

"You promised me, Tyrion! You promised me! ”

"Buzz"

The blade of the Apocalypse stopped at the neck of Medivan's soul, and it was only a trace away from completely destroying the integrity of this soul, but in the end, the Great Lord of the Dark Blade put the sword back into its sheath, and a trace of disgust and bloodthirsty impulse flashed in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared, he took a step back, let out a breath like a living person, took out two black soul stones from the storage ring, and stuffed them into the time chain in front of Medivan in front of him.

Then he reached out and pushed Medivan off the platform, and beneath the platform's void was a swirling bronze-colored vortex, the vortex of time.

Tyrion looked up and whispered to Chromie, who was suspended in the air:

"For Mr. Khadgar's sake, give him a good dream, the end of being a Guardian."

"Mr. Medivan deserves a good dream... So, so be it. "The first king of Tang Zhenguan

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