Chapitre 122: Chapter 122: The Demon King's Aura
Wherever Medivh pointed with his fingertips, a bright purple and blue arcane light shone. Mysterious streams of light flowed from top to bottom, rapidly constructing something within the view of Duke, Lothar, and Garona.
It was a power that could not be comprehended or measured scientifically, and the surroundings seemed to shed their canvas like an oil painting, revealing their true form.
When the final dazzling light bloomed, everything changed. The void and chaotic sky became the roof of Medivh's workshop, and sunlight filtered through stained-glass windows, filling the entire workshop with a sanctified feeling, as if it were a church.
Twelve huge marble pillars were erected around the workshop, forming a corridor on the periphery.
In the center of the workshop was a twenty-meter-diameter pool filled with a turquoise liquid that churned slowly. Duke understood at a glance what it was.
Mana!
Highly concentrated mana!
It had surpassed the gaseous state of mana and turned into a liquid.
Each time the liquid mana churned, if one focused their entire mind on it, they would see dazzling lights exploding in their vision, like blooming flowers of light repeating the process of budding, blooming, falling, and withering.
The power contained within was so terrifying that Duke could even imagine that if the mana in the pool were to lose control, the intertwined and nuclear-bomb-level energy would burst out, instantly spreading to the surrounding area, turning the land for miles into a dead zone.
Compared to this amazing pool of mana, the pile of metal components that Medivh had placed next to the pool was insignificant.
Seeing everything in front of him, Duke confirmed one thing again in his mind - Medivh, known as the Star Mage, was definitely at the pinnacle of using spatial elements.
Time and space were almost universally recognized as the strongest elements.
In fact, even with Lothar and Garona by his side, Duke's scalp still tingled, not knowing how to deal with Medivh, who was possessed by Sargeras.
The only stroke of luck was that only the three of them were transported to the workshop, and Medivh did not harm Lothar's subordinates.
At this point, Medivh spoke.
"Hehehe!" Medivh laughed, his laughter containing an indescribable devilish charm. "Since you call me an old friend, why use a sword to point at my chest?"
Lothar's gaze fell slightly to Medivh's feet, and his eyes were very careful, slowly scanning from his feet to his head. When his gaze met Medivh's again, Lothar's voice became very gentle.
"Yes! My sword should not be pointed at my old friend. It should not be pointed at Medivh, who I have crossed paths with, who is a kindred spirit." Lothar "swooshed" his sword back into its scabbard. "We were never meant to be from the same world. You are a guardian, above us all. As long as you don't step down, you'll have almost endless life. Llane and I, on the other hand, are just two seemingly noble, yet truly humble mortals. Why did we become friends?"
"Yeah! Why did we?" Medivh's face showed a playful smile. He even ignored Garona moving quietly behind him on his left, and Duke who was motionless on his right.
"It's because of your humility and kindness that won us over. Do you remember twenty years ago, when you just defended Azeroth once again, and came back wounded? You stubbornly made an ice block to cool down a feverish child in a slum."
"I remember that day..."
"I remember..."
Lothar softly recounted the many memorable moments he and Medivh shared. Medivh didn't interrupt him and listened with a smile.
After what seemed like ages, Lothar finally emerged from his memories. As the last word of Lothar's speech fell, a teasing expression finally appeared on Medivh's face.
"Such a moving story, isn't it? But... it's meaningless!" Medivh's face finally darkened. The next instant, the entire workshop space trembled.
"Meaningless?! No! Everything I said is meaningful! Because I still believe that the kind and compassionate Medivh I know is still alive in some form, somewhere. And you, Sargeras, I will pull you out of my old friend's body and send you back where you came from!"
Lothar's voice rolled like thunder in the spacious workshop, echoing left and right. The anger contained in his voice seemed to want to burn Sargeras' filthy and sinful soul to ashes in an instant.
Lothar drew the sword of the king once again, and the radiant golden light on the blade was like the dawn, driving away the darkness along the horizon. It split the entire workshop, which was filled with Medivh's terrifying magic, into two.
Lothar's momentum was astounding, but in Medivh's eyes, which were slightly teasing, there was a hint of disdain.
Sargeras spoke with calm indifference, "Lothar, is this your trump card? Too bad you brought it out too early, otherwise maybe it could have given me a little surprise."
"The true king does not need to hide," Lothar stated firmly.
This was also a small flaw of the King's sword. The King himself walked the righteous path. The will of Thoradin the Great Emperor, who flowed with brilliance on the sword, would not allow the wielder to do such tasteless things like attacking opponents with sneak attacks or cold shots.
Moreover, from the beginning, Lothar had no intention of truly hiding himself.
"Hmph! The so-called King, in front of me, the invincible King of all realms, is not even worth as much as an ant," an incredibly terrifying will spread out from Medivh.
As the one directly facing Sargeras, Lothar was the first to bear the brunt. The will of the Demon King was not simply terror. Countless images, large and small, continuous and intermittent, flashed through Lothar's spiritual sea, constantly impacting his will.
Those were not ordinary images, but the images of one world after another destroyed by Sargeras' Burning Legion for more than ten thousand years.
Brutal and insane demons turned beautiful planets into barren wastelands, leaving countless different creatures dead.
Slaughter!
Destruction!
Annihilation!
This was the main theme of the Burning Legion.
At this moment, Lothar heard the cries of billions upon billions of living beings, tasted their sadness, pain, and despair. Lothar unconsciously knelt on one knee, his face pale, cold sweat dripping from his forehead and hair, and his eyes had a kind of pitch-black darkness that was about to faint.
Lothar felt like a small boat lost in the boundless angry sea, helplessly enduring the onslaught of the raging storm under the endless black storm, ready to be destroyed at any moment, and completely kneeling under the terror will of Sargeras.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone