klisemfg Chapter 674 The Will of Death?
Chapter 674 The Will of Death?
Good willpower! Willpower is precious...
Willpower is very expensive; most people simply cannot afford such a precious thing.
Many people are vying for willpower, as if possessing willpower makes one much stronger. Without willpower, one is just broken bricks and tiles; with the will of death, you are a powerful force.
Lorraine had no idea what the will of death that her teacher was talking about was, but she was very doubtful of her own will.
Is this my will?
Who is controlling the two mechanical arms to wreak havoc and commit murder?
Although it felt like this was very beneficial to his injuries, the abundant vitality completely replenished the damage he had suffered in the Crystal Corridor. In particular, his two henchmen seemed to be seeking revenge; they absorbed countless lives and destroyed thousands of the goblin's prized mechs.
The monsters are now tens of meters tall, and Lorraine can sense his surroundings without even opening his eyes. He can see every subtle movement and expression, and even feel the magnitude of the power emanating from them.
It mainly involves the energy field between subtle life waves and inanimate objects, and Lorraine's perception state as a bat.
......
Little Moonlight War God charged again, but his two henchmen used their arms to repel him. Behind him was only one enemy: the Night Elf Sentinel General Sandys & Feathermoon.
Without needing to pay attention to what was behind him, Lorraine noticed that a large crowd had gathered in front of him.
The front line of defense consisted of the remaining goblin guards who dared not use high-tech metal weapons anymore. Instead, they had switched to wooden spears and stone hammers. The more skilled ones even carried special crystal weapons, but it was unclear how they were used.
Firearms and artillery are also useful, but they dare not be deployed close to them.
There are also a few pyromancers among the goblins who know magic; they are the helpers that Charles the Penguin urgently summoned from the Ministry of Magic's archives.
Even though the people in charge of different sections of the underground city knew that there was a big problem inside, they refused to provide support, citing company rules, and some of them were ready to run away at any time.
This is the actual cohesion of a seemingly bloated venture capital firm... but that's a story for another time. The underground city will never be as peaceful as it used to be tonight.
The culprit is the source of chaos, Lorraine, the plague messenger.
Lorraine recognized someone familiar in the crowd ahead of him.
That strange Tauren Druid, Red Mist Venerable, who was a middleman between the Cenarion Druid Council, the Thunder Bluff Elders, and the Orgrimmar Horde.
Antlers, Earth Soul, and Red Mist commanded the minotaur warriors to establish a defensive line, and everyone seemed to respect him.
Beside the old ox was an old orc with gray hair and a small braid. He was also wearing a strange half-animal skin skirt, and you could vaguely see that the orc's upper body was covered with totem patterns.
A wolf's head is faintly visible on its chest...
The old orc led a large group of orc shamans and wolf riders, lined up in a fan shape. A few troll witch doctors, armed with iron spears and hunting rifles on their backs, with horns filled with gunpowder at their waists, knew the tauren resented these things...
There were three distinct groups of people on the opposite side, and guards were also on alert further away, but they were just observing the situation from in front of their own camps.
From afar, Lorraine spotted a dark, shadowy Undercity sentinel staring coldly at him... Not far from the sentinel's feet, a large group of Forsaken workers were loading and unloading familiar wooden barrels, from which green slime seeped. Each undead worker was wearing a protective mask...
The toxic substance that even the undead feared—who knows what kind of bizarre thing was contained in the wooden barrel? The fluorescent skull on it and the energy it contained gave Lorraine an instinctive sense of comfort, as if it were some kind of addictive drink.
The wooden barrels containing skulls were to be loaded onto a train and transported away. The destination of the train was unknown, but this seemed to be its first stop.
All the forgotten ones are busy and anxious... and don't care about the chaos happening ahead.
......
The farce must eventually come to an end.
If you don't know how to end embarrassment, how to end pain, then you will forever repeat embarrassment, repeat pain, repeat torment, and repeat being fooled and manipulated.
Lorraine seemed to have only two choices: kill the guys rushing at him and wait for his servants to evolve.
Waiting to be defeated, forcibly separating the two underlings who had willingly inserted themselves into him to absorb the power of death.
There are never only two choices. People are often unable to choose, powerless to perceive their own situation, and at most respond according to their instincts, which usually leads to unsatisfactory results. They resign themselves to fate and blame others.
Lorraine can only fight the opponent...
Even with a Tauren Druid claiming to be one of their own and a familiar Horde Frostwolf Orc Shaman on the other side.
"Red mist, the monster definitely has the aura of the Six Demon Pack, my feeling is not wrong. Not only that, there is also a strange monster inside its body, if I'm not mistaken, it's the stench of the Calamity."
“That’s right, Miss Sandy, the natural disaster has already revealed its presence.”
"Could the natural disaster be the one you mentioned that's secretly hindering our investigation?"
“Oh no, dear Sandys & Grand Commander Feathermoon, I didn’t say that. I was just guessing that the Grimtotem is connected to our enemies, and the theft of the Oración Pack has indeed caused concern among the Elders.”
......
"Elf, it seems you need our help?"
The old orc shaman, Ghost Howler, chuckled; he could already see the imposing Sandy's predicament. The other ignored him, and the red mist nodded to the old shaman.
"We can't let it run rampant... I think venture capital firms will regret getting involved with it... It's growing, it can't be stopped, it needs to be controlled."
The old ox made a pointed remark, the old orc nodded with a mysterious smile, and Little Moonlight War God listened to the exchange between the tauren druid and the orc shaman with a puzzled look on his face.
No one offered her an explanation: the Cenarion Druid Council was not subordinate to the Night Elf Sentinels; on the contrary, the Sentinels were obligated to protect the druids in carrying out divine pronouncements.
Sandys didn't understand why the druids chose the tauren Redmist as their intermediary. Was it because it made communication easier?
This land was originally the home ground of the Minotaur?
This place was once a sacred land for elves!
Is the ultimate balance simply indulgence and indifference?
Sandys shook her head. She hated intrigue and despised demons and mages who disrupted the world, especially necromancers... She loathed the aura of death, yet the necromantic aura emanating from Lorraine was one that Sandys had never encountered before in all her years.
It seems that Dalaran refers to such mages as forbidden mages, dark necromancers, necromancers, or liches...
Banshees are typically transformed from elves or female sorceresses after death, while liches are the ultimate form of necromancers, a twisted spirit that actively detaches itself from its soul in an attempt to achieve immortality...
The necromancer, covered in scrap metal and exploding with electricity, seemed immune to conventional physical attacks. Sandy wondered if shamanic magic could counter this strange fellow.
......