"Malak! Malak, you pathetic loser! You and your followers are a bunch of pathetic cowards!"

The low roar echoed on the snowy altar outside Gudak's palace, like bursts of endless thunder. This roar was full of the humiliation of betrayal and the anger that was constantly accumulating.

Along with the roar, there was also the collision of chains.

In the northernmost part of Zul'Drak, in a solemn place shrouded by gloomy clouds, Loa, a violent beast, was bound to the body by chains soaked in voodoo and magic.

Hundreds of frost troll warriors were pulling on thick chains all around. These barbaric warriors who grew up in the wild north needed to do their best to control the trampling and shaking of the giant beast in front of them.

In addition to the chains, the priests of the Drakkari trolls were also casting spells all around, using ancient and vicious vicious spells to continuously weaken the trapped North Loamatos.

This is a frost mammoth with a mane.

It has a body as huge as a hill and a skin as solid as granite.

The two curved and rough ivory tusks are like two terrifying guillotines. Combined with the natural brute force of Mutos, they can easily destroy everything that tries to block it.

Ghuntos was once the god of brute strength worshiped by the frost trolls, and it represented invincible glory on this land.

It is said that it is also the main god of the mammoth people who are ravaging all over the continent of Northrend.

But compared to the trolls who can forage for food and find sacrifices for Loa, and speak nicely, the powerful and savage Gototh obviously does not like his descendants who are more violent, savage and difficult to tame.

It stays with the frost trolls all year round, enjoying the shrines and altars built for it by the trolls near the Gurdak Palace. While enjoying the tributes offered by the trolls, it will also use its own power generously.

Distribute it to the Drakkari trolls.

Ghuntos didn't think as much as the other Loa.

It is a rough and simple character, and does not think much about the future.

It has always felt that its cooperative relationship with the trolls was perfect. The trolls exchanged food and tribute for power, and it could find food without going out and enjoy the rainbow fart praises of the priests in various ways.

Even beasts must pay attention to "spiritual life".

It's a pity that this "perfect cooperation" came to an end not long ago. From a certain day, its troll followers began to ask for more power from it, which in the eyes of Ghatus was not in line with the rules.

The amount of tribute will be exchanged for the amount of power, this is what was agreed before.

However, considering that it also heard that some strange undead were attacking Zul'Drak in large numbers, the trolls needed strength to defend themselves against the enemy, so under the pleading of the priests, Mighty Mauntoth agreed to an unfair deal.

But this concession is just the beginning.

The trolls' need for power is increasing day by day, but the tribute they can give is getting less and less.

The priests trusted by Mammoth have been using various excuses to frustrate the Mammoth God's demand for tribute, and even quietly cut off the Mammoth God's contact with other Loa.

The result was that when the muscular brain of Guantos finally realized that something was wrong, something was really wrong.

"let me go!"

The desolate cry of elephants stirred in the cold wind, and Mutos looked at the trolls with different expressions around him, their eyes bursting with anxiety, fear, and shame.

But it’s more about expectations.

It is the expectation of something desired.

Guanthus has seen such light countless times in the eyes of the weak who seek power from him. Unfortunately, this time, these trolls who usually respect him hope to get from it more than what is casually given to him.

Strength.

The gazes and fanatical shouts of those who wanted to eat it apart made the powerful Mammoth God feel that his own disaster was coming.

A rare "fear" actually arose in its heart.

It's like a giant statue surrounded by a group of ants. Although the ants are so small and the giant elephant is so big, when the ants are hungry enough and the number is large enough, even the elephant will be chewed into bones.

"Ouch!"

Guantos's frantic struggle quickly exhausted the little strength it had left. It was pulled to its knees by the bloodthirsty trolls with a low scream, and fell like a crumbling hill.

Its fall caused the ground to break into cracks, and also caused the waiting frost trolls around to cheer loudly, making the scene even more frenzied.

The huge mammoth tried to get up but was unable to do so. It was poisoned by its own priests, causing it to become weak. It was also tied with special chains to the platform where tributes were usually enjoyed. The tied body looked like the sacrifices that had been offered to it in the past.

The product is equally miserable.

Mattos even had an illusion.

It feels like it is today's "tribute".

"Marak! Your Majesty! The great Frost King! Say something! Do something! We are all watching you! Execute the iron laws we need!"

In the midst of fanatical and crazy cheers and howls, the Frost Troll King Malak, who was defended by the Drakkari Rhino Knights, finally stood up from his throne made of skulls.

He wears the full set of clan armor as the troll commander, and wears two ice-cold frost battle axes on his waist. He also has an ancient bone bow slung on his body, which he will use when fighting against a bag of troll headhunters.

The poisonous spear.

Compared with the last time he met Black, the Frost King of the North, who was in his prime, was obviously much haggard and older.

Perhaps it was because of the psychological pressure caused by the unsatisfactory battle situation, or perhaps because he had to sacrifice another Loa with his own hands, which made him feel complicated. In short, there was no happiness or relaxation on the face of this most powerful frost troll.

possible traces.

As the other trolls watched, Frost King Malak, standing on the Skull Throne carried by the barbarians, raised his left hand, like a silent command, causing the entire altar to become silent in an instant.

He stared at the God Loa who was lying on the ground in front of him, struggling but unable to break away. A look of contempt flashed through his ice-like eyes, and he asked in a cold voice:

"So, Zul'Drak's god of brute force, the powerful and invincible Ghatus, as a god worshiped by the Drakkari trolls for hundreds of years, you have seen those vicious dead attacking the ground beneath our feet.

You know, your followers need strength.

But they are humble and dare not speak to the gods so directly. As the king of the frost trolls, I will ask them for them.

Mattos!

Are you willing to give your power to the troll warriors who need strength? O powerful spirit born in this land, are you willing to do everything you can to help us fight against the evil dead?"

Malak's inquiry was straightforward, without any sloppiness or even any verbal concealment. He just barely said the words "Tool Man Loa" clearly.

But this inquiry made Mattos, who was already in a desperate situation, even more angry.

The Mammoth God slammed the ground with its heavy ivory, causing the masonry to break into pieces. It used this bursting action to represent its dissatisfaction and resistance, and it roared:

"I have given every blessing I can to you to each of your warriors! At the request of those cunning traitors, I created hundreds of mammoth power warriors for you in just half a month!

I am not so generous to my own blood descendants!

But you are still not satisfied!"

"Because it's really not enough!"

Faced with the rebuttal of Mutos, Frost King Malak did not hide it at all. He answered directly:

"The mammoth warriors you created for us have been exhausted on the front line. Although they killed ten times their number of enemies before dying in battle, it was still not enough!

Those powerful warriors could not resist the call of the evil force of death. Every time one of them fell, the power of the natural disaster increased by one point.

We need warriors who can defy death!

We need true warriors of the gods!"

"You're crazy!"

The mammoth god shouted:

"Even if I were willing, it would take at least ten years to train a group of spiritual warriors for you... Wait! I know what you are going to do, madman!

You crazy lunatic!

I smell the curse of Quesluen on this chain. The cunning wind snake did not die in the hands of the undead!

It was you who killed it!

You drained the divine power of Quesluen and created so many corrupted divine warriors for you..."

Mattos finally came to his senses.

When it saw the dozens of troll berserkers, headhunters, and priests with divine power around Malak, it realized where its biggest crisis today came from.

Its beastly instincts were spot on.

It is actually the "tribute" that Malak will offer to the Frost Trolls today!

"We need at least three hundred divine warriors to withstand the army of the undead."

Frost King Malak stood on his throne. He raised his left hand and shouted loudly:

"You useless loa enjoy the offerings from the Drakkari trolls on weekdays, and you greedily devour the scarce resources on this land.

You should abide by the ancient divine covenant.

Now your followers need your protection!

You must take shelter!

I need a divine warrior with your undefeatable power!

If you don't give it to me, I'll take it myself!

The Drakkari trolls deserve this!

We have already paid the price of support in the past for today's hunting. Executioner! Kill it! Pierce its heart, remove its fangs, and take away all available organs.
To be continued...