"Kel'Thuzad is dead. You're next!"
Arthas' eyes gradually turned cold. He just wanted to live, to have beautiful women by his side, enjoying the blessings of multiple wives, and preferably a few children. This was his pursuit.
It was simple, very humble. Why did they have to force him to kill these damned undead Scourge?
If he didn't kill them, they would destroy his kingdom. How would he enjoy life then?
Wouldn't it be better to just stay in Northrend, that frigid continent?
They had to seek death!
He pierced the head of a charging ghoul with his sword, then swung it back to sever the head of another ghoul.
Two female banshees, transformed from female mages, opened their gaping mouths at him, and a sharp, ear-splitting shriek that reached the soul assailed him.
Any creature that heard this shriek would lose their senses in an instant, and in that moment, they would be overwhelmed by a massive number of ghouls.
His health dropped considerably, but Arthas' eyes remained clear, completely unaffected.
He cut down a charging abomination with a single sword stroke. With his left hand, a swarm of Fel stench erupted towards the two banshees, making them tremble all over.
The corrupting power of Fel was not pleasant. A pillar of Holy Light descended from above, and the banshee struck by it shrieked as she disintegrated into dust.
The other banshee's eyes showed fear for the first time; Fel had a deterrent effect on all creatures.
Swish, swish, swish!
Crypt Fiends, resembling a combination of spiders and ants, spat out sticky webs, covering Arthas with sheet after sheet, instantly immobilizing him.
"Hehehe, Prince Arthas, I admit you're a good fighter."
Baron Rivendare rode his undead skeletal steed forward, looking down from his elevated position at the bound prince, his former master.
"What good is being a good fighter?! Marching and fighting a war isn't just about individual bravery; you need to use your brain!"
He even pointed to his own head, clearly mocking the prince for being brainless.
One web was manageable, but with a dozen sticky, difficult-to-cut webs layered together, the sheer stench alone was enough to sicken someone to death.
It seemed the taunting was enough; it was time to end this farce.
"Go, kill him!"
As soon as Baron Rivendare finished speaking, his eyelids drooped, and he quickly fell into a Sleep state.
The dreadlord's basic skill, Sleep, was a divine control ability.
No matter if it was a minion or a hero, one cast and they all closed their eyes and went to Sleep obediently!
Seemingly invincible, it was actually quite easy to break.
All it took was a friendly ally to strike him, and he would naturally awaken from the attack.
Unfortunately, without a commander, these undead dared not attack their superior leader.
Ten seconds of Sleep was enough time for Arthas to break free from the webs.
As Frostmourne was raised high, a distortion suddenly appeared in the sky, and a massive rock engulfed in green Fel flames descended from above.
Boom!
This impact not only knocked the sleeping Baron Rivendare unconscious again but also inflicted considerable damage.
The Infernal, climbing out of the crater, tore and burned through the webs, then, under command, attacked the Crypt Fiends.
Phew!
He let out a sigh of relief. This served as a reminder to Arthas: he could deal with any enemy on the battlefield, but he still needed to be wary of these unpredictable tactics.
"Is this what a battlefield is like? One careless mistake and you can be overturned."
"Very well, in return, I will personally cut off your leader's head!"
His sharp longsword split Baron Rivendare from head to toe, and the returning Infernal incinerated his bones with Fel.
This way, even if he could be resurrected, he would only be a fragile body, unable to withstand a single blow.
Freed, Arthas charged through the battlefield, focusing on the Crypt Fiends, needing to deal with these disgusting creatures first.
Some Crypt Fiends, witnessing this, instinctively used their Burrowing skill, hoping to escape underground from the attacks.
But on the display panel, they were just lines of bright red guidance. As Holy Light descended, the radiance burned these undead, causing them to self-immolate.
Meanwhile, Sinestra easily eliminated the undead guarding the orb, reaching out and crushing it.
Jaina summoned three water elementals to block the ghouls, while simultaneously casting frost spells to further slow them down, buying time.
"Are you ready? I can't hold out much longer."
Sylvanas was currently focused, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow, sensing a familiar undead aura in the ethereal realm.
A streaking arrow tore through the sky, killing a guarding banshee with a single shot.
With a few leaps, she used her ranger's mobility to reach the orb.
She grasped the orb in her hand, and after crushing it, the aura of necromantic magic began to swirl.
Then the magical aura seeped into the Windrunner's Longbow in her hand, and a flash of understanding came to her, as if she now understood how to cast undead magic.
Scene after scene of illusions appeared in her mind: how she became a banshee, how she mastered necromancy, and how she and Arthas loved and fought each other.
"Watch out!"
Jaina didn't know why the other person suddenly rushed out and then stood there in a daze.
In her haste, she used magic to construct a wall of ice beside her, barely blocking the attacks of the undead.
However, the hastily cast ice wall was not thick enough and would be breached with just a few more scratches.
Pfft!
Arthas arrived just in time, his longsword slashing, cutting, and piercing, repelling the attacking undead. He casually hoisted Sylvanas onto his shoulder.
In a blink, he returned to Jaina's side, scooped her up as well, tied her onto Sylvanas, and charged towards the church.
"Uh, you can put me down, I'm fine."
A warm feeling rose in Jaina's heart. She wasn't in danger, but the feeling of being rescued and protected by her beloved was truly wonderful.
Who wouldn't want their beloved to care for them?
Her childhood sweetheart, her entire heart belonged to Arthas.
"Sylvanas is acting strangely; you watch her. I'm going in to kill Tichondrius and then slaughter all the undead in the city."
Arthas handed Sylvanas to the dragon queen, who was watching with a smile, and walked in, carrying Frostmourne.
"Arthas, be careful. There are many undead around, and the troops need your command."
Jaina reminded him, not wanting him to be consumed by hatred. He could seek revenge, but he shouldn't let hatred blind him.
The chapel inside had been converted into an altar. Several undead acolytes, seeing this, were greatly alarmed and hastily sped up the catalysis.
Streams of souls were absorbed and injected into the altar through the necropolis.
Flesh and bone were forming, and as the soul injection stopped,
the demonic body gradually took shape. Its eyes opened, and it seized a nearby acolyte, biting off his head.
It savored the taste with immense satisfaction, devouring their souls.
"Human prince, we meet again. I told you I am unkillable!"
Noticing Frostmourne in Arthas' hand, Tichondrius visibly grew excited.
"It seems Ner'zhul has convinced you? Excellent. Come out with me and turn all the mortals of Lordaeron into undead!"
"The Legion will return, and this world will become a ruin!"
Wielding Frostmourne would lead to one's thoughts being imprisoned by its Rune of Domination, becoming a puppet.
Now that the mortal who could kill him had taken up this weapon, he was one of their own!
Although he was displeased that Arthas had killed him, on second thought, having such a formidable prince as a vanguard...
It was 800,000 against 600,000; the advantage was with him!