A prophet...

Pursing her lips, Azshara kept repeating this honorable name that seemed to possess strange magical powers.

Foresight, insight into all things... Is this the meaning of the name?

She could feel that the "Prophet" had no hostility toward her or the night elves in Zin Assaline.

With this thought in mind, Azshara stood up straight and looked up at the other party, only to find that the other party was also looking at her. Those deep eyes were as bright as stars, as if they contained twinkling stars, hiding the true meaning of all things in the universe.

What kind of eyes are those...

Azshara was stunned, even though she had already discovered that the other person's eyes were not focused on her, but were just contemplating other things and stopped in her direction by chance. The tall and thin body was like a statue, motionless.

The wind ruffled the mooncloth robe that highlighted her flawless and slender figure, and a pair of round, jade-like legs were looming. With her eyes blurred, she even forgot to reach out and press the hem of the robe that was dancing in the wind.

Standing on the shore and watching from a distance, it is a feeling to be shocked by the shocking vision caused by this foreign visitor. Looking closely, the perception is completely different...

He is not tall, at least not tall compared to night elves. He is only slightly taller than Azshara. He is thin and wears a fiery red robe.

But for some reason, even though they were looking at each other, Azshara felt like she was looking up to him. During countless moonlit nights, Azshara even raised her head to look up at the White Lady of the Moon, who was revered by the night elves as the "Goddess of Elune".

I have never felt like this before.

His appearance is not in line with the aesthetics of night elves. He has fair skin and clear facial features. Although he does not have a beard on his face, it gives people an inexplicable look of vicissitudes, as if he has long been floating in the torrent of time.

After tens of thousands of years of ups and downs, this weight has been accumulated...

No, it should be said that it does not conform to the aesthetics of ordinary night elves, nor does it conform to the aesthetics of other night elves except myself. They are too vulgar, and they are too vulgar to appreciate the true meaning of beauty. Azshara thought to herself.

If we say that in her previous life, Azshara had three definitions of "beauty", one was the Well of Eternity containing endless arcane energy; the other was being the empress of the Kaldorei Empire and the most powerful mortal mage.

He is proud of the place where the stars shine; third, he continues to grow under his leadership and will eventually unify the Kaldorei Empire in the place where the stars shine...

So today, Azshara has a new understanding of "beauty".

No, she didn't dare to define the prophet as "beautiful", because it was completely blasphemous to him. He was too powerful, he was a god who came to the mortal world, and mortals could never call him by his name, just like those

Commoners must respect themselves as "Light of Lights", not Queen Azshara...

Elune, how dare I compare myself with the Prophet... Azshara suddenly felt an indescribable sense of frustration in her heart, because compared with the other party, even she felt ashamed...

Being so close, she could even see the magical aura radiating from the other person's body. How majestic it must be before it can condense into a mist-like substance visible to the naked eye and emit it... This aura is like the breeze in the forest in spring.

It blows like water, washing Azshara's body and mind, spirit and flesh...

Unknowingly, Azshara was intoxicated again.

As the night elf with the deepest connection to the Well of Eternity, she could feel the strong joy coming from the depths of the Well of Eternity after the Prophet appeared. It was as if—no, it must be—the Prophet had the same origin as her.

It is the incarnation of the essence of art, and even the most gorgeous words in the world cannot describe this nobility.

His connection with the Well of Eternity is far deeper than mine, and the magical aura emanating from his body is vaguely purer than that of the Well of Eternity. He is far more powerful than me, far stronger than me... Only such a god-like existence can

Worthy of me... As soon as this thought came to mind, Azshara's cheeks turned red.

companion?

Azshara is the supreme queen, the most powerful mage who stands at the top of the planet. She can raise hundreds of meters high waves with her hands, and millions of people follow her every thought. No one has ever been able to enter her eyes.

Let your gaze linger even for a second longer.

but……

Prophets are different.

His whole body exuded a fatal attraction that Azshara could not resist. An uninvited guest actually broke all her knowledge of arcana, beauty, and even the world, causing waves in her heart... She had once

She thought she was the only individual standing at the top of the world, but it wasn't until this moment that she realized her insignificance.

She never thought that she, who had looked down upon all living beings all her life, would one day develop admiration and love for others like ordinary people.

Azshara was about to speak, but she was shocked to realize that her heartbeat was frighteningly fast, and her left hand was subconsciously brushing on her towering chest. Her cheeks were also hotter than ever before. She looked like... a little woman who was completely unbecoming of a queen.

deportment.

This feeling made her feel unfamiliar and embarrassed.

She took a deep breath, suppressed the tumbling thoughts, and asked in a low voice: "I just saw that you seemed to be fighting against your enemies... I want to know who they are. After all, this happened next to my capital. If

If they return again, I...I don't want my people to be threatened again."

…

Angmar smiled, instantly breaking away from the statue-like dead state and becoming alive.

I just simply find it funny.

In front of me today, this ancient night elf queen who had a profound impact on the history of Azeroth actually looked cautious. Although she was looking directly at herself, her eyes were flickering. She dared to look but didn't dare to look. She spoke softly.

He spoke softly, as if he was afraid of bumping into him.

Once upon a time, he could only look up to this superior being. But now the status of the two parties has been completely reversed. Not only Azshara, but also the characters in the main timeline who he once regarded as legendary heroes will also be regarded as legendary heroes from now on.

Look up to yourself like she does.

This one-to-one change made Angmar feel a deep sense of dissonance. Looking back on his experience during this period, he felt as if he was in a dream. He was kept in the dark by his future self and had to overturn his past principles.

After absorbing the power that did not belong to him and the truth being revealed, future enemies surfaced, and it turned out that all this was just a dream...

My own journey to ancient times, my own journey through life, at this moment...

just began.

Angmar felt relieved, but also felt that all these things had condensed into some strange and lingering emotions, like a big stone choking his heart. He didn't know what the future would be like, but he was not at all scared.

No fear, no joy, no sorrow. After realizing this, he wanted to laugh to himself that he had accepted the changes that had happened to him so quickly.

Yes, there is no reason. Change comes quietly and silently at the moment of sudden change in life.

"What I am fighting is not the enemy, but my own future." Angmar stood with his hands behind his hands and looked at Azshara indifferently. This aloof night elf queen could no longer cause any disturbance in her thoughts.

because……

She is human.

The future? Azshara felt like she was once again lost in the other party's deep gaze.

"That's...what kind of feeling?" She said absentmindedly with unclear meaning, her golden eyes kept moving on the other person.

Angmar stared at the palm of his right hand. The scales that were shaped by the "Fallen One" and played a vital role in his own time travel had long since dissipated in the timeline along with the "Fallen One". Only the scales left on the palm of his hand were

A shallow diamond-shaped scar was left - this was the last proof that the Fallen remained in the world.

He shook his head, "You won't understand."

Azshara was stunned. No one had ever spoken to her like this, but she couldn't resist at all.

But... I want to understand. As for what I want to understand, it is definitely not the question I asked in a trance just now, but the extremely powerful prophet in front of me.

"May I have the honor to invite you to my palace... to sit for a while?" She bit her lip, and she could clearly feel the heat on her cheeks as she spoke. What's wrong with her?

——How should I choose? Angmar was carrying his back, paying no attention to Azshara, but thinking about the future path.

He has come to the crossroads of his life. In this new timeline, everything is in the ascendant. Azeroth's power is far stronger than the main timeline that has been hit one after another. Should he abandon the main timeline?

Should we rewrite the course of history and prepare in advance for the threat of the void that is destined to come, or should we continue as usual and ensure the survival of the main timeline that we are familiar with?

Facing terrifying enemies, the former is undoubtedly the best choice.

At this moment, countless vivid faces flashed before his eyes. His adoptive father Anselon, Leah who took care of him when he was growing up, Prince Kael'thas who trusted him deeply... and the old man who devoted himself to his people.

Magister Carlyle, the Quinsas trio who have been following him... as well as Lannasel, and Anweina...

There are too many people and things that are difficult to let go of.

After a long period of contemplation, Angmar shook his head. Without any movement, the space in front of him was torn apart, revealing a blue portal. He walked straight in, and after a few breaths, he appeared in Zandalar.

Zuldazar in the heart of the mountains.

Azshara subconsciously took a few steps forward, but the portal quickly closed. She looked at the place where the prophet disappeared, her fists clenched involuntarily, and she felt an inexplicable loss in her heart.
Chapter completed!