Tyrion and Veren don't have a deep grudge.

The two had worked together in the past, so it wasn't out of personal vendetta that he was now instructing the Darkblade Intelligence Bureau to plan Operation Prophet's Fall. To be precise, there are two reasons for this action.

First, Viren had what he desperately needed, three ships that could sail the stars and store all the star maps from Draenor to the world of Argus.

The engineering technology of the Black Iron Region is indeed the most advanced in all of Azeroth, but it will take at least hundreds of years for the natural development of this civilization to rely on those engineers to make ships that can enter the stars and jump in space over long distances... The tech tree is not that easy to climb, especially in this magical age.

The war with the Legion has entered a new era, and according to the information obtained by Tyrion from some sources, perhaps in a few years, the main army of the Burning Legion from the 33 star fields will gather in Mardun and launch a final attack on Azeroth.

In ground battles, under the cover of the power of the Dead Realm, the Darkblade Legion is not afraid of demons, but in air combat, the Darkblade is too far behind the Legion.

Tyrion must seize all the time to fill this void, of course, he can also start a war against the Draenei in the name of nobility, but at present, the focus of the Darkblade strategy is still on the realm of death, and Tyrion can't spare too much strength to deal with the Draenei, not to mention, the High Lord does not want the Draenei civilization to disappear.

So he's going to take a different approach.

The second is Viren himself.

In the whole of Azeroth, the most favored life by the Holy Light is none other than this prophet Viren, who has the power of the Holy Light enough to confront the current Tyrion, and according to some theories, once such Viren falls to death, once he accepts the power of death, then the highest combat power of the Darkblade Legion will instantly swell to a terrifying level.

As for the great fusion strategy between the Dead Realm, Tyrion urgently needs a helper who can confront Hela or Bonsandy head-on, and Viren is the most suitable.

And there is one last formal reason ... The Forgotten Kings' assessment of the Draenei civilization has been completed, a civilization that relies too much on the Prophet Viren's observation of the future, which saved the Draenei from numerous catastrophes when the stars fled, but now that they are part of the Azeroth civilization system, they should be integrated into it.

Unfortunately, due to the existence of Viren, the Draenei basically maintain good intentions towards the empire and the federal civilization, but like a neutral person, they are unwilling to take sides, which the Forgotten Kings do not want to see, and the existence of Viren has too deep a profound impact on the future of the Draenei civilization, if they can't get rid of the influence of the prophet, then the Draenei will never be able to truly integrate into the Azeroth civilization.

The above three points came together, and the "Prophet's Fall" operation was submitted to the High Lord, Tyrion didn't think too long before agreeing to the action, and the Tyrant Vihari, her appearance was just an accident, if it wasn't for Iriel's recognition of this former high-ranking garrison on the battlefield, I'm afraid her soul would have been collected into the High Lord's pocket and then sold to others.

Regardless, Vihari's hatred of Viren made her a perfect fit to join Operation Prophet's Fall, and her familiarity with the Burning Legion made her a big part of the plan.

"Well, that's it."

Shadow said to the High Lord, "We will have all the resources needed for the operation ready in 4-6 months, and after the end of the punishment war against the Night Elves, we can launch the Operation "Prophet's Fall", and if it goes well, the operation will be over in 1 month." ”

"Well, let's do it."

With a wave of his hand, Shadow and the aspiring Agent Vehari turned to leave, and just as they were about to enter the elevator, Tyrion seemed to remember something, and said in a hoarse voice from the necromancer:

"Shadow, Aurelia has prepared a sumptuous dinner party tonight, inviting her friends from the past to dinner together... Don't you want to come, do you hear me? ”

Shadow's footsteps paused for a moment, she was silent for a few seconds, and then let out a nasal sound.

"Hmm"

Vihari secretly looked at her chief, and although she couldn't see the shadow's expression through the white mask, she could guess from those narrowed eyes that the shadow was smiling, and it seemed that she was in a good mood.

In other words, between the chief and the indifferent and majestic lord, there may be some... Not so legitimate.

Unbeknownst to Tyrion, his new subordinate was gossiping about his love life, he was busy, and less than 10 minutes after Shadow left, a new visitor arrived.

That's a... Well, a dwarf.

Wilfred, the master warlock, walked out of the elevator under the guidance of a Death Knight, the sinister and timid dwarf who had come to the Dark Temple for the first time, he represented the Black Scythe Council, but he was still full of fear of the terrifying Lord of the Dark Blade, as a warlock, he knew better than many what the Lord had done in the past ten years.

Each one of them will give him nightmares at night... You see, he's an evil sorcerer who plays with demons and people's hearts, but he still can't shake off the shackles of race, and the neuroticism and timidity of the dwarfs still affect him.

Walking on the large platform of the Dark Temple, Wilfred felt a trace of coldness, he couldn't help but wrap the black hood on his body, and secretly cursed his boss Kel'thugad in his heart, that arrogant fool, probably because he didn't like him, so he probably sent him to die.

"You're the emissary of the Black Scythe Council?"

Tyrion leaned against the cold throne and looked condescendingly at the shivering short man, his cold gaze made Wilfred fall to his knees and say in a humble voice:

"Ah, Great High Lord Tyrion, I bring the reply of the Archkarcist of Kel'thugad..."

"Say!"

Tyrion's eyes didn't change, and Wilfred felt the chill in the High Lord's body, and he swallowed his saliva and said Kel'thugad's reply as it was:

"Kel'thugad said... He said... If you don't give him back his cat, he'll never be able to work with Darkblade, uh, that's not what I'm trying to say, High Lord, I personally have a lot of admiration for the Darkblade Legion, especially your saga, and the other members of the Black Scythe Council are looking forward to working with Darkblade, but our boss is just that... Well, mavericks. ”

As he spoke, the dwarf warlock raised his head and looked at Tyrion with a flattering gaze, and he pointed his finger at his head, and said in a high-pitched voice characteristic of a dwarf:

"You know, the warlocks play with evil energy, that thing is a bit mentally stimulating, our boss has fallen too deep into evil energy, his brain, sometimes not very useful... But believe me, it's not a declaration of war, it's not..."

"Alright, gnomes!"

Tyrion interrupted Wilfred's rambling explanation, looked at the gnome, and whispered:

"I know Kel'thugad better than you, and he wants his cat, right, then I'll give it back to him."

As he spoke, the Great Lord stretched out his finger, and in the tearing of space, he grabbed Mr. Bigworth in Stormwind, and in the flicker of light and shadow, a fat big cat appeared on the armrest of Tyrion's throne, this black and white wizard cat was at least 3 times fatter than the skinny kitten he used to be, and most importantly...

Three black and white kittens, almost identical to Mr. Bigworth, were playing behind Mr. Bigworth's back, making a mess of their father's pretty coat with their childish meows.

And our Mr. Bigworth looks like he has nothing to love...

There is no doubt that these three kittens are his children, and they also have pure wizard cat blood in their bodies.

It has been several years since it was taken away from Kelthugad, and Mr. Bigworth has changed from a kitten to a cat father, and in the past few years, it has been a very important part of the Tyrion family, and several girls have treated it as a treasure, giving it the best food, giving it the best enjoyment, and the result is that the wizarding cat, which should be agile and dexterous, has now become a lazy big fat cat.

In the past few years, Dornan has searched for two worlds, and finally found another pure-blooded wizard cat from the upper elves of Sindra who joined the Federation, and happened to be a beautiful female, so Mr. Gworth had an extra wife, and the two rare wizard cats formed a family in the Dark Temple, and had offspring.

"Meow~"

The three little milk cats were not afraid of the majesty of the High Lord's death, they were like playing a game, lying on the armrest of the Great Lord's cold throne, while the fat Mr. Bigworth was held in the arms of Tyryon, and the High Lord stroked the cat's hair, and he whispered:

"Remember Kel'thugad?"

"Meow~"

The lazy Mr. Bigworth meowed without raising his head, indicating that he still remembered his master.

"So, would you like to go back? He obviously misses you a lot. ”

This sentence made Mr. Bigworth, who looked indifferent, jerk his head up, his beautiful pupils staring at Tyrion's eyes, and after confirming that the High Lord was not joking, the intelligent wizard cat jumped off the High Lord's arm, and it half-crouched in front of Tyrion's eyes, like a real human, and nodded to Tyrion.

"Meow~"

It barked again, and then looked at its three children, the big fat cat's eyes flashing with tenderness, and it tilted its head and stared at the big lord, its tail sweeping across the ground.

"Meow~"

"yes, okay."

Tyrion nodded to Mr. Bigworth as well:

"You are welcome to come back at any time, don't forget that Miss Morty is still waiting for you here, and your three children, of course I will not prevent you from meeting, you yourself have the spatial coordinates of the Dark Temple... But I'm sure you're not going to share it with anyone else, right? ”

"Meow~"

Mr. Bigworth blinked meekly, and the next moment, a black badge appeared on Tyrion's finger with a blue ribbon, and he bent down and placed it on Mr. Bigworth's neck, and patted it on the head:

"Now, then, I appoint you as the ambassador of the Darkblade Legion to the Scythe Council, and you need to broker the cooperation between the Darkblade Legion and the Scythe Council, and urge Kel'thugad to do what I need him to do... Is there a problem? Ambassador Bigworth? ”

"Meow!"

Mr. Bigworth's answer was this time with a hint of firmness, like a warrior on a mission, and he nodded to Tyrion, then patted the heads of the three little milk cats crouching in front of him one by one, like his father before leaving, and finally, in the sad call of the three little milk cats, Mr. Bigworth turned and jumped onto the shoulders of Wilfred, a dwarf sorcerer.

It squatted on the dwarf's shoulder, its fat body as if by magic, rapidly emaciated, and in the blink of an eye, it reverted back to the way it had been when it left Kel'thugad, it stretched out its claws, waved goodbye to its children and the Great Lord, and a blue light of spatial magic enveloped it and the dwarf's body.

The next moment, amid the panicked screams of the dwarf, a man and a cat disappeared in place...

Mr. Bigworth is a rare pure-blood wizard cat, and it's just teleportation, so you don't think it won't work, do you?

——————————————————————————————————-

"Boom"

The low sound of dark thunder rolled in the deep clouds, and with it was the pale lightning that flipped in the dim sky, the only light in this hell where ghosts cried wolf, and in that fleeting pale glow, the light of this hell would unfold before the eyes of every unfortunate person who entered it.

The churning sea of gray mist, the shattered wreckage that has lost its mind like zombies and knows nothing but predation and destruction, the boneless warriors entwined with seaweed and barnacles that stagger across the shore, and the ominous rolling in the air, the caged cages that are incomparably withered and smelling of disgust, and the souls in the cages who are tormented for eternity.

It's hell... Another hell!

"Boom"

With another thunderclap, the shadow of Vargri, flapping its black wings, appeared in front of the visitor, and she looked at the tall creature in front of her with malicious eyes, and said in an obscure voice:

"Get out! Demon, this is not the place for you! ”

"Oh? Is it? ”

The third lord of the Council of Fear, the demon lord of Nasrezm with blue and white wings, Memphistus, raised his head and looked at Vagri in front of him without fear, and said in a slumped voice:

"Then go back and tell your master... Just say..."

"With the messenger of the goodwill of the deceitful, I, here!"

"Let Hela come out to me... The friendship of the legion, it is not so easy to refuse! ”

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