The undead along the way stirred, but were held in place, eager to tear apart any living being.
The demons also bared their fangs, opening their maws wide, wanting to feast on the flesh and blood before them.
Neither the undead nor the demons dared to cross the line; the suppression from the dreadlord commander was not just for show.
Dare to disobey orders, and The Burning Legion has ten thousand ways to make a demon wish for death but be unable to die. demons dealing with demons are often the most ruthless.
The high elves were not so poetic, but they were filled with solemn respect. This was a true ally.
Kael'thas looked at the Alliance army marching towards Silvermoon City, and he felt a profound sense of tragedy and emotion, and even a rising admiration in his heart.
Perhaps joining the Alliance wouldn't be such a bad thing?
Would he have to work under a love rival?
What a terrible and sad thing that would be.
"That huge four-legged demon is mine. Sylvanas, Jaina, Vereesa, Grom, you are responsible for containing that shameless female demon. Grom, you take the front."
"Falric, lead the army to support Jaina and the others from the periphery. Do not approach me; the aftershocks of battle are not something you can withstand."
Arthas gave orders as he walked, his battle intent surging with a desire for combat. The attention from Azeroth was the reason for his extreme excitement.
The strongest World-Soul in the entire universe, Azeroth. Her power is endless, how strong she is, no one knows, only that The Burning Legion fears her awakening, which is why they invaded.
Sylvanas raised a golden eyebrow slightly, looking with displeasure at the scantily clad succubus.
"Are all demons like this? Bah, shameless!"
"Indecent!"
Jaina also scoffed. One could dress like that at home, but to do so outside? That would definitely make one a harlot!
Vereesa nodded, but looked at Arthas with suspicion. She always felt he seemed familiar, but she couldn't pinpoint why.
"Don't worry, Prince Arthas, I will tear her bones to shreds!"
They marched quickly, and after entering Silvermoon City, they split into two groups.
Arthas walked alone towards the Pit Lord Mannoroth. This level of battle was no longer something mortals could participate in.
Admittedly, they could overwhelm the enemy with numbers, but that would require tens of thousands, and the current number of guards was insufficient for suicidal tactics.
Roar!
Over a dozen high-ranking demon guards, each over five meters tall, roared and charged forward with massive swords, their blades longer than Arthas himself.
He dodged sideways, then countered with his sword.
Bash! Critical Strike!
Explode!
He delivered at least ten slashes in one second, too fast for the eyes to follow.
All one could see was Arthas walking past, and the demon guards, their bodies burning with Fel, fell to the ground, a portion of their souls drawn into Frostmourne.
Even if they could resurrect in the Twisting Nether, their intelligence would only decline, eventually turning them into drooling, immobile idiots!
Watching his elite guards die tragically, Mannoroth opened his dense, sharp fangs.
"A fine mortal. The last time I saw one like you was ten thousand years ago."
"You are worthy of being my appetizer! Hehehe!"
A phantom from the deep sea watched silently from afar.
"That's Azshara, the Light of Lights. She could crush you like an ant. Only Archimonde could truly contend with her."
Arthas admitted that the Light of Lights was very strong, but that was Azshara backed by the Well of Eternity.
Azshara without the Well of Eternity? Not exactly a nobody, but at least only a common demigod.
Mannoroth's expression turned ugly, a hot breath snorted from his nose, and his twin wings flapped incessantly behind him.
"Boy, I originally intended to spare your life and let you serve The Legion."
"Now, I will crush your bones little by little and make you watch as this Lord devours you!"
No sooner had he spoken than his four hooves moved rapidly, his massive body charging forward, crushing the exquisite floor tiles to dust with one stomp, leaving a small crater in its wake.
With that weight, a single stomp could turn two or three well-trained soldiers into a bloody pulp!
Idiot!
Arthas merely scoffed inwardly, holding Frostmourne with one hand, turning sideways to face the charging formidable enemy. If a bit of snow were added, it would be a perfect Lich King CG!
Terrifying Howl!
A soul-stirring sound erupted, the signature skill of the dreadlord!
His attack power instantly dropped by half, lasting for ten minutes.
"Die!"
The double-headed war spear in his hand slashed down fiercely, the whistling wind stinging from afar.
No escape!
Clang!
The war spear and Frostmourne collided, sending sparks flying.
His health instantly dropped by half. To deal such high damage even with 50% damage reduction was astonishing.
Holy Light descended, raising his health.
"Now it's my turn!"
He swept his sword up, striking a toe.
Bash!
Mannoroth felt his body stiffen, wanting to move to defend, but his body wouldn't obey.
Such a situation was truly rare. A surge of Fel flames erupted around him, protecting himself.
It could burn nearby enemies every second. The damage wasn't high, but it required no control.
He couldn't see what Arthas was doing beneath his feet, only feeling a dull, continuous pain, like a blunt knife cutting flesh, gradually intensifying, a sharp ache piercing his soul.
Mother Shahraz, in the distance, did not engage Sylvanas, but watched with a smiling expression, as if the duel had nothing to do with her.
"Hehehe, don't look at me like that. I'm not with that insensitive brute."
"Shut up, harlot! Die! orcs will never be slaves!"
Grom hated demons because it was after drinking demon blood that orcs became frenzied, even destroying their own homeland.
He raised Gorehowl and charged, bringing the axe down with the force of splitting a mountain.
Clang!
Two arms, holding long swords, precisely intercepted the axe. Her alluring smile turned hideous and terrifying.
Then two more hands, also holding long swords, thrust from left and right, intending to skewer the green-skinned orc!
Swoosh!
A magic arrow and an Ice Lance arrived simultaneously from left and right, deflecting her weapons.
Another magic arrow shot towards her head. The dark aura it carried caused her a hint of displeasure and fear.
She spun, flinging the orc away, and used her remaining two arms to block the dark arrow.
In their first skirmish, Mother Shahraz was almost decapitated, which successfully ignited her fury.
"Are you here for business? Or for fun?"
"If you're here for fun, then I'll let you taste what ultimate pleasure is!"
The two sides devolved into a chaotic brawl. Whenever she tried to target Jaina in the distance, she was always interrupted by the orc, which annoyed her immensely.
It was a standard setup: a Protection paladin tanking, a mage and a ranger providing ranged damage, and a devout priest in the back healing and maintaining health.