Diablo traveled through time and became a necromancer

The captive slumped against the tree trunk, like a fish with its bones removed, leaving only painful whimpers and uncontrolled convulsions. His face was covered in snot and tears, his mouth tightly stuffed with rags, and every attempt to breathe was accompanied by a scream of burning pain.

Irene looked at his miserable state. Although she had found it a little funny just now, she now only had a little sympathy left - after all, this guy was a cultist and his hands were stained with the blood of innocent people.

Skeleton Brother has returned to his guard position. His tall skeleton is like a silent sculpture in the deepening night, and his dark blue soul fire calmly scans the surrounding darkness.

But Wu Ye could clearly feel the cold resentment in the spiritual connection that was like an ember that had not yet been completely extinguished - it was the ultimate resentment for not being able to taste delicious food, especially this novel and exciting "Hellfire" flavor.

Wu Ye quickly finished the remaining noodles in his bowl. The warmth in his stomach and the lingering spiciness on his tongue perked him up considerably. He stood up, stretched his muscles, and glanced over the messy makeshift camp.

"We're not leaving tonight." Wu Ye's voice was filled with a hint of fatigue after relaxation. "Everyone needs to rest, especially Irene." He glanced at the pale girl who was enduring pain. "It's relatively safe here. Let's rest for a night and set off tomorrow."

Upon hearing this, Irene's tense nerves relaxed instantly, and the pain in the wound on her back seemed to become more pronounced. She glanced at Wu Ye gratefully and whispered, "Thank you, Elder Wu."

Wu Ye nodded without saying anything. He first walked to the stream, carefully washed his hands and the pots and pans, and put away his belongings. Then, he walked to the relatively flat and dry open space in the center of the camp.

He expertly unloaded his gear from his storage space. A large, sturdy field tent with thick canvas was quickly erected, its interior spacious. Next, two sturdy oak beds, polished to a smooth finish, were securely placed on the dry moss mats laid out within the tent. One of the beds was noticeably thicker and smoother. Clearly, he had prepared a sufficient supply of supplies.

"Eileen, you sleep on the bed inside." Wu Ye pointed inside the tent. "Your back is injured. It will be more comfortable if you sleep on your stomach." He took out a clean thin blanket and handed it to Eileen.

A flicker of surprise flashed across Irene's eyes as she gazed at the comforts, which far surpassed those of ordinary adventurers. But it was quickly replaced by gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, cautiously entering the tent and lying flat on the thick wooden bed, pulling a thin blanket over her. The wound on her back seemed to ease slightly as it touched the soft, dry moss mat and the sturdy bed.

She looked at the tall silhouette of Skeleton Brother looming in the night not far outside the tent, and the small amulet on his sword hilt swaying gently in the night breeze. She felt an inexplicable peace in her heart, and soon fell into a deep sleep in exhaustion and pain.

As for the captive, Wu Ye had a new plan. He signaled Brother Skeleton to drag the still unconscious captive to a large tree, away from the tent and near the stream. Brother Skeleton used tough vines to securely tie the captive to the tree trunk. He checked the rag gagged in his mouth to ensure it wouldn't fall out. The captive's eyes were tightly closed, his face unusually pale from the previous "torture" and his unconsciousness.

After Skeleton Brother finished all this, his tall frame stood like a silent sentinel between the tents and the captives. His dark blue soul fire vigilantly scanned the darkness outside the camp. His rune-encrusted greatsword rested in the ground beside him, the purple-black lightning wrapped around the hilt flickering faintly in the night. His vigilance encompassed the core of the camp (the tents) and potential sources of danger (the captives).

Wu Ye himself didn't rest immediately. He walked outside the tent, sat down against a relatively smooth rock, and closed his eyes to rest. He didn't fall asleep immediately, but instead maintained his mental awareness at a medium range, like an invisible spiderweb, covering the camp for hundreds of meters. While Brother Skeleton was responsible for outer surveillance and prisoner protection, he was responsible for inner perception and early warning, providing a double guarantee.

The night breeze blew through the forest, bringing with it the fragrance of grass and the coolness of the stream. The lingering warmth of the campfire mingled with the faint, overbearing aroma of Hellfire chili powder and the even, gentle breathing coming from Erin's tent. The captive, unconscious, uttered a faint, painful groan, but it was quickly drowned out by the wind.

Wu Ye's thoughts drifted far away. Nicholas's farewell words—"Don't die. My masterpiece still needs you to bear witness"—echoed in his mind. Wu Ye didn't perceive them as malicious or threatening, but rather as a slightly mysterious reminder tinged with hope. Nicholas seemed to genuinely regard him as a junior or friend worthy of attention. That sense of "expectation" felt more like an unsolved mystery than a sword hanging over his head.

He subconsciously touched the dark red token in his arms and the half of the arm armor with burn marks and the Rogue Falcon emblem.

(Origin of the Arm Armor: This half arm armor was not obtained in this battle, but rather the sole relic of the fourth fallen Rogue warrior, which Wu Ye had personally picked up from the scorched earth at the edge of the battlefield at Branwell Outpost. It was cold and tattered, yet it bore witness to the final perseverance and sacrifice of his comrade.)

The token felt cold and heavy in his hand, the twisted evil eye emblem on it seeming to grin silently in the night. This token, and the identity of the captive, clearly pointed to Thorien Wester—the great general of Westmarch! He was the mastermind behind all this! Those cultists, the so-called "Trinity," were merely pawns of Thorien's!

The horrific attack they suffered at Branwell's Outpost, and the token found on the captive's body, all testify to the rampant and dangerous nature of Thorien's forces. This captive is the key to uncovering Thorien's conspiracy! He must hold crucial intelligence! We must bring him back to Rogue alive! Only by handing him over to Kasha and Akara can we pry Thorien's true intentions and plans from him and seek justice for the fallen Rogue warriors!

Thinking of this, Wu Ye's heart became more resolute. He glanced at the sleeping Irene (in the direction of the tent). Even in her sleep, the girl's brow was slightly furrowed due to the pain of her wound.

The remaining Hellish Corrosion from the wound on her back also requires the power of Grandma Akara to completely dispel it. We must return to Rogue City as soon as possible!

Rogge... that magnificent city of millions is not far ahead, but between us lies the still-reconstructed Tristram. With another day's journey tomorrow, we'll be there.

However, before reaching Rogue City, they would first pass through the rebuilt Tristram. That cursed city, once shrouded in darkness, now ignited a flame of hope on the edge of its ruins. They would not need to enter, but would bypass it through the outer checkpoints.

Wu Ye felt a mix of emotions as he thought about returning to that complex yet safe city. It was a temporary haven, but it could also be the center of a storm.

Thorien's conspiracy, the prisoner's intelligence... everything will converge and collide there. His first priority is to ensure that this crucial prisoner arrives at Rogge alive!

He took a deep breath, the cool night air carrying the fragrance of grass and trees. He closed his eyes and began to meditate, restoring his spirit and allowing his tense nerves to relax for a moment.

Skeleton Brother stood silently in the night like the most loyal and guarded person, with the dark blue soul fire like a beacon, scanning the darkness vigilantly, and the small amulet on the hilt swayed gently.

All night long, there was no sound except the wind, the chirping of insects, and the even breathing of the sleepers (and the faint moans of the captives).

As the eastern sky began to turn pale, the brief respite ended. A new journey was about to begin. The goal was clear: to safely reach the outskirts of Tristram, where hope was being rebuilt from the ruins, with the captives, and then to the magnificent city of Rogg beyond!

At dawn, the team was already gearing up and ready to go. Irene's face was still pale, but after a relatively peaceful night's rest, she felt a little better. She endured the pain in her back and stood up with Wu Ye's help.

The captive was still unconscious and was roughly picked up by the Skeleton Brother and tied tightly to its broad bony back with tough vines, like a heavy, ominous package.

Skeleton Brother's movements were characterized by the cold efficiency of dealing with "troublesome items."

Wu Ye quickly packed up his tent and wooden bed, clearing the area around the camp. He looked around, making sure nothing was missing, and said solemnly, "Let's go."

The team set out on their return journey. Wu Ye walked in front, his spiritual awareness like invisible tentacles, spreading out as wide as possible, alert to any sign of trouble. Skeleton Brother followed closely behind, carrying the captive on his back. His tall frame walked steadily, his dark blue soul fire like the most sophisticated radar, scanning the rear and flanks. Irene followed closely beside Wu Ye, trying to regulate her breathing and minimize the strain on her wounds.

The captive bounced on Skeleton Brother's back, each vibration tugging at his throat and stomach, which felt like they were on fire, causing him to utter an uncontrollable groan of pain. This sound was particularly harsh in the quiet of the early morning forest.

"Let him be quiet." Wu Ye said to Brother Skeleton with his mind without turning his head.

Without any unnecessary movement, Skeleton Brother's bone-covered palm seemingly casually pressed a spot on the back of the captive's neck. The captive's moans abruptly ceased, his body stiffening before collapsing completely, and he fell into a deep coma once again. The world returned to the tranquility of the early morning.

The team moved swiftly in silence. The terrain gradually opened up, no longer the rugged mountains and forests, but rolling hills and sparse woodlands. The air was filled with a scent unlike that of the mountains and forests, a faint, strange blend of scorched earth, sulfur, and newly grown vegetation.

As the sun rose to mid-sky, the outline of a huge ruin shrouded in gray mist appeared on the distant horizon.

Tristram.

That cursed city, once completely devoured by darkness, where King Leoric fell mad and Diablo was first awakened. Even from a considerable distance, Wu Ye could feel the chill and deathly silence emanating from the ruins, a chill that penetrated deep into his bones. The air seemed to still linger with the wails of countless dead souls and the scorching heat of hellfire.

However, unlike the eternal desolation in memory, the edge of Tristram now presents a completely different scene.

A massive, newly built gray stone wall, like a serpentine python, stretched with difficulty around the perimeter of the ruins. Atop the wall, busy figures could be seen—craftsmen and soldiers. They labored to clear away the twisted vegetation and rubble left by the darkness at the edge of the ruins, piling up the massive stone blocks. The clanking of hammers, the clatter of trumpets, and the scraping of lumber being carried could be faintly heard from afar.

The stench of sulfur and decay in the air was tempered by the stench of freshly turned earth and the sweet aroma of wood. The depths of the ruins were still shrouded in an ominous gray fog, but the rebuilt areas on the periphery stubbornly emanated a sense of vitality and hope.

"It's Tristram..." Erin looked at the huge construction site, her voice filled with awe and complexity, "They... are really rebuilding it."

Wu Ye nodded, remaining silent. He slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping across the construction site battling darkness for ground. He could see the vigilant sentinels atop makeshift watchtowers, the crude yet sturdy fortifications, and the mixture of exhaustion and hope on the people's faces. This was no longer a place of pure death, but a spark of humanity rekindled amidst the ruins of despair.

They didn't approach Tristram. According to the plan, they would bypass the outposts outside the ruins. Wu Ye didn't want to cause any complications, nor did he want the people rebuilding the area to panic because of the fel energy emanating from the captives.

"Go around and keep your distance." Wu Ye ordered in a low voice.

The team turned east and moved along a relatively open, trampled dirt road, avoiding the edge of Tristram's reconstruction area. They could even see the vigilant eyes of the sentinels on the distant watchtowers sweeping over them, but the other party had obviously received orders and did not raise an alarm or stop them.

After leaving Tristram, the team accelerated again. The road ahead became smoother, and the view became wider. But Wu Ye's heart did not relax. Rogue City was still more than half a day's journey away. This seemingly peaceful wilderness might also hide an ambush of Thorien's minions.

Skeleton Brother maintained his maximum alert range, his blue soul fire acting like the most sophisticated detector. Irene gritted her teeth and followed, her back wound aching slightly from the bumpy ride, but she remained silent. The captive remained unconscious, like a heavy burden.

Time passed by in silence as they hurried along. The sun gradually set, stretching their shadows ever longer.

Wu Ye watched the setting sun, feeling a sense of helplessness. He touched the cold, intricately runed scroll of town teleportation in his arms. This item, usable only by those with the designated teleportation point, instantly transported the user to the designated teleportation point in Rogue City. He had originally intended to use it as soon as they broke free of the rocky coastline, instantly escaping danger with Irene.

But no.

The reason was simple—this captive! This cultist from Westmarch, loyal to Thorien, had his soulmark not recorded in the teleportation array of Rogue City! The power of the teleportation scroll only affected "registered" Rogue members or allies. Forcibly transporting an unmarked "foreign object" would at best disrupt the space and render the scroll ineffective; at worst, it would trigger spatial turbulence, tearing everyone to pieces!