魔兽军团再临广播剧 萨格拉斯之墓第一章双语版

　　He shuffled away from the exposed shore。 There was no need to make things easy for his pursuer。 He didn‘t stop moving until he was far inland， hidden amid boulders and dead， barren trees。

　　He sat down to rest。 “Is this the place？ The Broken Isles？” Gul‘dan asked。

　　—YES。 KEEP MOVING。—

　　Gul‘dan hated the way Kil’jaeden‘s voice rattled his skull。 It had filled his mind the instant he had entered this world， and it hadn’t allowed him a moment‘s relief。 “I need time，” he muttered。

　　—YOU HAVE NONE TO SPARE。—

　　Gul‘dan leaned back against a boulder。 His pact with the Burning Legion had given him power， but his posture was as gnarled and twisted as it had ever been。 His mortal body was still weak。 “I need time。 The archmage is more powerful than you know。” Gul’dan had nearly died swimming to shore， using only his physical strength。 If Khadgar had detected even a scrap of fel energy moving away from the burning merchant ship… Well， he hadn‘t， but now Gul’dan could barely stand。 “All I need is a moment。”

　　—NO。—

　　Gul‘dan remained motionless， catching his breath。

　　—YOU DISOBEY ME？—

　　The orc hissed。 He had crossed into a new world， stolen a ship， and sailed over an unfamiliar ocean， all while a relentless pursuer snapped at his heels。 Gul‘dan could not keep the rage out of his words。 “I have proved my loyalty a thousand times over。”

　　—YOU HAVE FAILED AGAIN AND AGAIN。 YOU‘VE PROVED NOTHING。—

　　Gul‘dan stood up， ignoring his fatigue。 I failed？ Me？ He kept that thought hidden。 He had held up his end of the bargain。 The Legion had failed。 Every single one of its plans had come to nothing。 Mannoroth， the flayer of a thousand worlds， had died in an ambush。 Auchindoun and its substantial power had been claimed for only a few heartbeats。

　　Even Archimonde had fallen。

　　A dangerous thought surfaced。 Why should I expect things to go differently this time？ Gul‘dan buried that question deep。 Very deep indeed。

　　“Where， then， should I go？” he asked， his voice as cold as death。

　　—RETRACE YOUR STEPS。—

　　Gul‘dan looked back toward the ocean。 “I don’t understand。”

　　—YOU HAVE VISITED THESE ISLANDS BEFORE。 DECADES AGO。 DO YOU NOT SENSE IT？—

　　“That was not me，” Gul‘dan said。 An icy chunk of uneasiness settled in his middle。 Knowing there was already a Gul’dan who had lived and died on this world—this other timeline—made his skin crawl。 “We are not the same。”

　　—IF YOU ARE NOT， YOU ARE NO USE。 GO NORTH。—

　　Disobedience was not an option。 Not yet。 Gul‘dan started walking again， slowly， feeling for any sign of scrying。 He had no doubt that the archmage Khadgar had already begun searching these islands。 Nightfallen scavengers scurried about， but they were sent fleeing once they sensed the warlock’s menace。 Many hid within the decades-old shipwrecks that dotted the shoreline。 Gul‘dan was pleased； it would be frustrating for Khadgar to inspect them all。 There was not a raven in sight， though some vultures soared high above。 They kept their distance。

　　“What happened here？ With… the other one？” The questions tasted sour， but he needed to know。 All he had heard—among the screams of the unfortunate Alliance and Horde soldiers who had fallen into his care on Draenor—was that the Gul‘dan from this timeline had accompanied the first Horde to war。 He had been defeated and killed。 Eventually。 Details were harder to come by。 Perhaps that meant Gul’dan had met an unremarkable end， a death not worth retelling。 That was not a satisfying thought。

　　—YOU RAISED AN ISLAND， THAL‘DRANATH， FROM THE WATERS。—

　　“At your command？” Gul‘dan asked。

　　—YOU ARE NOT HERE TO ASK QUESTIONS。 YOU ARE HERE TO VISIT THAT ISLAND AGAIN。 IT IS A LONG WALK。 MOVE。—

　　Gul‘dan’s thoughts continued to swirl in treacherous waters。 There must be something powerful here。 Why else would Kil‘jaeden want him to remain ignorant of it？ I may have to obey him， but I do not need to trust him， Gul‘dan decided。 Kil’jaeden was known as “the Deceiver” for very good reasons， after all。

　　“May I at least ask what is on that island？”

　　—THE TOMB OF SARGERAS。—

　　At that moment， dead silence fell over the land。 The vultures veered away。 Rodents vanished into their warrens。

　　Someone was coming。 Gul‘dan stopped。 He listened。 He waited。 Carefully， very carefully， he wreathed himself in fel power， a simple trick but a useful one。 To anyone farther than two paces， Gul’dan would be invisible。 Anyone who stepped closer would soon see nothing at all。

　　He kept his eyes open， but his mind raced。 “Sargeras‘s tomb？ He’s dead？” he whispered。

　　—YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING。—

　　Kil‘jaeden had given that answer to many of Gul’dan‘s questions。 The orc’s patience was strained each time he heard it。

　　Someone was moving among the rocks。 Gul‘dan sensed it before he saw it。

　　A flash of motion caught his eye。 Not a single pebble rustled as a cloaked figure glided on silent footsteps。 She emerged into a patch of light， curved blades and emerald armor glittering， each movement taken with confidence and purpose。 Not an inch of skin was visible beneath her helmet， yet it seemed she had no trouble surveying everything around her。

　　Gul‘dan smiled。 Cordana Felsong had worn something similar。 A Watcher？ Here？ Very interesting。

　　He was tempted to ambush this one， but she was angling north。 He followed。 Where there was one， there would likely be more。 Those Nightfallen had been weak， and their life essences had granted Gul‘dan little power。 The souls of Watchers would be worth the time to collect。

　　Kil‘jaeden said nothing to stop him。 And it burned， oh yes， it seared Gul’dan‘s pride to wonder whether his master would allow him this small bit of freedom。

　　Gul‘dan’s magic kept him hidden as he hurried after the Watcher。 Twice he had to halt as she changed course， veering in irregular patterns before looping around to her original bearing。 She was searching for something。 Him？ Unlikely。 It would take a great fool to hunt Gul‘dan alone。 Even Khadgar had sought the aid of allies first。

　　Soon the Watcher rounded the edge of a cliff and emerged onto a flat plateau。 A half-dozen others were already there。

　　Yes…

　　Gul‘dan waited in the shade， gathering power as the Watcher he had followed joined them。 He could hear only snatches of their conversation。

　　“… dead Nightfallen…”

　　“… sunken ship on the horizon…”

　　“… as you command， Warden Shadowsong。”

　　Gul‘dan peered at them。 That name was familiar。 Where had he…？ Ah yes。 Maiev Shadowsong。 She was Cordana’s leader， spoken of in fear。 If she ever learns of my betrayal， Cordana had said， I will have to beg for an end as easy as Illidan‘s。

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