Shadow Trails in Azeroth

"I shouldn't be here! I knew he had bad intentions!"

In the dark cellar exuding endless jewels, Kanrisade held the dirty magic bag in his hand and said in his heart while walking along the damp and cold floor of the cellar:

"I should have been smarter, that guy was a stinky pirate! He was a bastard!"

He said this in his heart, but the skinny boy did not stop moving forward.

He was obviously more afraid of the invisible Black beside him than the unknown thing in front of him.

Although his feet were shaking as he moved forward, the skinny boy kept taking deep breaths and holding the cold gold coin in his hand.

The warning barriers maintained by the two magic springs in front of them have been temporarily terminated by Blake in the shadows using the trap disarming skill. Blake has not used this skill much since learning it from Garona.

Not very skilled.

If the legendary assassin were here, he could easily abandon this trap.

He stood there.

The body is wrapped in shadow. Compared with when he first sneaked, Blake's actions in the shadow now have no trace.

The advanced shadow affinity, coupled with the permanent state of the covering shadow, allows his stealth skills to break through to the legendary level when he is on the sea, and is weakened when he is on land, but he still maintains the master level.

He just needs to continue to understand the rhythm of shadow existence, spend more time practicing, and it will only be a matter of time before he reaches legendary level stealth.

"call"

Blake let out a sigh of relief, took out the hurricane hunting bow from his bag in the shadows, and quietly attached a sapphire arrow polished by a snake man.

He narrowed his eyes and began to wait.

Ahead, the skinny boy slowly finished the journey that frightened him.

He expected a deadly trap like those described in the bard's tales.

The ground cracked and spikes were exposed, or the walls collapsed and knives and axes popped out.

But no.

The people who hid these treasures here seemed to be very confident in the defense here and were not worried about thieves coming to steal the treasures. They also did not set more stupid traps here.

"Why are these two things so shabby?"

Kanrisad came to the weapons rack at the end of the cellar.

He is just an apprentice sorcerer. He knows nothing about identifying treasures, and he doesn't have much knowledge. He can only judge the inside of something from its appearance.

The two weapons placed on the weapon rack in front of him were incomparable in appearance to the dozens of other rare and rare treasures stored in the cellar.

Those babies are so beautiful, each one exudes magical light.

But the two in front of me are very different in appearance.

The two-handed sword looked quite heavy.

Made of some kind of gray steel, the blade had curved lines. A weird skull with small black horns was inlaid on the hilt, and four bone spurs extended from the sword.

The guard was made to curve inward, and the hilt was wrapped with torn strips of cloth.

It should have been around for a long time.

The skinny boy looked at the sword carefully. He didn't think there was anything strange about the sword. It looked like a heavy weapon, and he couldn't lift it.

Moreover, Black had just warned him not to touch this sword.

As a result, Kanrisade quickly lost interest in it and focused on the sickle staff next to it. Compared to the two-handed sword, this sickle staff was more eye-catching.

Although it is also covered with dust and cobwebs, its appearance is much cooler.

About one and a half meters tall.

It looks like a staff made of some weird metal, wrapped in shabby cloth strips, with barb-like bone spurs extending from the tail of the staff, and the head of the staff is in the shape of a straight-edged sickle.

The black steel is ground into a sharp blade, and there are bone spur-like barbs on the blade, like weird insect limbs.

On the other section of the blade, a strange, mostly damaged head was fixed, and it seemed that the remains of some kind of demon could be vaguely seen.

"This thing is awesome at first sight."

Kanrisade thought:

"Chopping off the orc's head is probably as easy as cutting wheat. But that bad guy Black said that there is 'something' in it, and it has been hungry for hundreds of years.

Do I really want to hold it? "

The skinny boy hesitated for a moment. He turned back and glanced at the empty cellar behind him. He didn't see Blake, but he knew that Blake must be here.

The pirates would not allow him to leave until he had completed his mission.

After a few seconds of hesitation, the skinny boy was heartbroken and put his hand on the dark sickle in front of him. He was ready to face the unknown.

But the moment he actually touched the sickle, he realized that he was still too stupid.

The second his fingers touched, he suddenly felt the consciousness of a terrifying thing falling on him. It was like facing the pressure of a god, causing the thin boy to collapse to the ground in the next moment.

The fingers also loosened their grip on the hot sickle.

But that consciousness was still examining him. After three excruciating seconds, that terrifying consciousness lost interest in him. Then the next second, a shrill wail sounded from the scythe.

When Kanrisad, who was shaking all over, used his hands and feet to escape, the scythe behind him quickly floated into the air without anyone holding it. Then, entangled in the purple soul fragments, he released the scythe. of evil spirits.

That was an illusory, tall eredar female demon!

She is dead!

What is left here is just a miserable soul swallowed by the evil scythe, but before she died, she was the last holder of this cursed holy object.

Anyone who wishes to hold the scythe must pass through her challenges.

This is a cruel ritual. You must defeat the previous holder of the scythe to prove that you are qualified to control this holy object.

"No one! Can take Ursales away from me!"

The devoured soul howled.

Her soul body was riddled with holes, like broken glass being put back together again. She might have been strong during her lifetime, but she was no longer as brave as she once was.

After all, she has been dead for hundreds of years, and during these hundreds of years, she has never tasted a living soul.

Like a dried and shriveled corpse.

As long as you can overcome the fear in your heart, she is actually not difficult to deal with.

"Ah! Get away from me! You monster!"

It's a pity that Kanrisade has neither the strength nor the will to face the dangerous soul in front of him.

The fourteen-year-old apprentice was so frightened that he kept retreating on the ground.

He could only watch the crazy soul, holding the sickle emitting purple light, walking towards him. Both the soul and the sickle were ready to taste fresh sacrifices.

She laughed wildly, raised her scythe, struck it on Kanresad's head, and shouted:

"I am Satyr! I am the Deadwind Reaper! I am the one who will kill Sargeras! Stupid human cub, give me your soul!"

"ah!"

The skinny boy was so frightened that his whole body trembled, but fortunately he didn't lose his mind.

Seeing that the scythe was about to chop down, he hurriedly grabbed the magic jewelry Black gave him, held the dirty little bag in his hand, and poured his pitifully weak magic power into it.

"Wow"

A dazzling bolt of lightning flew out from the palm of the skinny boy's hand and hit the howling mad soul, knocking her back a few steps. Seeing the six magic packs in his hand take effect, Kanrisade was ecstatic for a moment.

But the next moment, no matter how hard he activated his magic power, the dirty little bag stopped responding.

The crazy soul who was knocked back a few steps felt the pain. She rushed forward with the sickle and slashed at the skinny boy who was no longer able to escape.

"puff"

Blood gushes from his heart.

Horrible pain overwhelmed Canrezad Abelok, causing him to let out a scream and fall to the ground convulsingly, knowing that he was about to die.

It's all because of that bastard Captain Black!

You must definitely do it

Well?

The skinny boy who was stabbed in the heart was stunned for a moment. He felt that the pain in his heart was rapidly weakening. He became numb and no longer retained any blood.

A force enveloped his dying body and pulled him back from the edge of death.

He looked blankly at the ghost in front of him, and the ghost also looked at him in astonishment.

Blake, who was in the shadows, looked at the scene in front of him expressionlessly, holding the hurricane bow in his hand in a sniper posture for more than five seconds.

On the ghost's head, there was also a hunter's mark that only he could see shining.

Sniper combat skills, proficiency +2.

Master the jump, master, grandmaster!

"Whoosh"

Sapphire bone arrows sparkling with subtle electric arcs flew out from the bowstring.

And Blake injected magic into it, stimulating the special effects of the hurricane war bow. While a layer of cold frost froze the sharp arrow, its sharp sapphire arrow was also entangled with a blade made of shadow.

At the moment of taking action, he crossed a distance of less than ten meters and pierced the chest of the ghost Satyr with an arrow.

The three magic powers of ice, lightning and shadow burst out at the same time. Under Kanrisad's wide-eyed gaze, most of the ferocious ghost was frozen in ice in an instant.

Blake, who was in the Shadow Dance state, shot this sniper arrow without breaking out of stealth.

He took the time to throw the bow back into his bag.

He pulled out the old hilt of the sword with his left hand, injected it with magic power, and made the blazing sword dance like a flaming lightsaber. While moving his right hand, he rotated the Devil's Strike several times in the palm of his hand and clasped it with his backhand.

He moved his neck.

Shadow step, start!

"Shua"

The expressionless pirate appeared behind the tall ghost, intertwined his hands and struck out with a shadow attack. Between the sliding of the dark black blade attached to the beating flames, he struck seven times in one second.

The special effects of Devil's Strike exploded twice more, tearing most of the ghost's neck apart.

Wearing the title of Soul Hunter, every tear will bring pain to the soul, and in the scream of Satyr, as the shadow suit shattered, Black raised his left hand and swept his right hand forward.

In the midst of the shadow-ridden whistling, a classic and fatal saber thrust allowed the flames of the blazing sword to penetrate the heart of the ghost, and then completely cut open the weak remnant soul while tearing it to the left and right.

"ah!"

The ghost of Satyr screamed and turned into a purple stream of light, trying to escape back into the scythe that cursed the holy object, but Black grabbed his hand.

There was a black smoke-like shadow surrounding him, like an indifferent assassin emerging from the shadow.

He whispered to the purple ghost struggling in his opponent's heart:

"I know who you are, I know what you have done, and I also know your shameful failure. The legacy of Usakos must begin with your death.

Unfortunately, Satyr, we have nothing in common.

But I must kill you.

This is not a personal conflict. "

"Snapped"

As the pirate's fingers clasped together, the purple soul fragment turned into a stream of heat and melted into Blake's body in the harsh wail coming from his palm.

The pirate dropped it on the warlock class without looking at it, and then picked up the black sickle staff floating beside him.

At the moment when the fingers touched, the terrifying consciousness that had observed Kanrisade before also observed Black at this moment, but the pirate didn't care at all.

He flicked the sickle and said viciously:

"What are you looking at! You loser!"

After saying a few words, the pirate bent down, pulled the undead Kanrisad from the ground, patted the dust on his shoulders, and said to the sorcerer's apprentice in a serious voice:

"The six magic bags I gave you can randomly release twelve kinds of spells, some of which can help you escape. But the one you just used is the most useless one among the twelve kinds of spells.

This is the second lesson I want to teach you today.

As a warlock, never believe in luck.

Don't pin your life on luck. When you embark on the dark-faced path of a warlock, you must be mentally prepared for bad luck.

Have you learned it? "