Azeroth Trail of Light

The Ice Throne, torn apart by violent energy, has become a ruin.

Once sitting on this throne, the Dark Lord, who can turn the whole world upside down with only one command, has also fallen into the most embarrassing situation at this time. Three weapons with different attributes pierced his body, like It is a cruel sculpture that fixes him in the center of the battlefield at the end of the battle, unable to move.

His right arm had been severed by Qi Gen, and the dark mist continued to erupt from the wound, like the last cold breath, low and desperate.

The magic sword shining with seven runes was held high in the air above the head by the king who entered the final end. The purple soul poured out of the sword. This did not come from the soul furnace, nor was it in the hall of reflection. Lordaeron was the elite, but the soul stored in the magic sword, those "collectibles" that Arthas valued most.

They may not be powerful, but absolutely each has its own unique meaning.

And now, the king who has entered the last is about to detonate this collection, kill his opponent, or give himself a vigorous ending.

"Roar! Frostmourne!"

Arthas's eyes were paranoid and crazy. On his cheek outside the protection of the Helm of Dominance, there was a torn wound on his face, and there was a little blood stain on his face, which made him look like he no longer had the manners that the Dark Lord should have Gentle, and in the wild storm set off by the last power, the purple soul screamed and danced, and frantic thinking hit everyone in front of him.

Their hair was blown, their armor was rustling before this invisible but existing soul storm, the snow and frozen soil under their feet began to crack, and the purple soul was almost in a short span of time. The sky above everyone's head was flooded in an instant, gathering in a storm mixed with icy blue wind.

This is not a good thing!

The silhouette of the Angel of Order is like a beating silver lightning, constantly jumping out from every direction, trying to attack Arthas, but the silver light curtain composed of souls is not so easy to break, although after three hits, the light curtain There are rifts on it, but its tenacity is far beyond the imagination of the Angels of Order.

It was a barrier built with countless souls, and it was a protection that could not be measured by pure strength.

The most terrible thing is that the storm formed by the gathering of souls trapped Uther, Old Fording, and Mograine in the storm. Alsace seemed to be determined to pull them three. During the funeral together, his hoarse voice came from the center of the storm and passed into the ears of everyone present.

"Maybe I am destined to die, but under this sky, no one will have eternal life!"

"Come with me and embark on another journey together!"

"Hahaha, the ending song will also resound through the sky. After tens of thousands of years, there will be heirs who will take over Frostmourne and destroy the ridiculous world."

"Boom, boom"

Two loud noises sounded at this moment. The first sound was the sound of the Angel of Order smashing the soul barrier with the holy fire hammer, and the other sound came from the main body of the Ice Throne that had collapsed for most of it.

In Alsace’s final power dance, the only remaining two pillars of frost also completely shattered at this moment, but they did not fall, but with the expanding soul storm, it was like being truly in the storm. The ruins are suspended on the top of the throne in a completely anti-gravity posture, and the light and wings of the Angel of Order are flying more and more heavier, which is the pressure of the pervasive soul blessing on him.

This is the most wonderful existence in the world, it is invisible, but at a critical moment, it is as important as it is. Even the weakest pastor and apprentice can purify a single soul, but when they come together, they form the present one. In the case of a large-scale soul storm, even a priest like Velen, who is beloved by the holy light, finds it tricky and can't help it.

The speed at which the old priest purifies the soul is not comparable to the speed at which the soul breeds. Arthas is absolutely desperate to release all the souls in Frostmourne this time. Once the storm bursts, the power is far from the first frost. It's so sad and angry.

Everyone will be killed!

A big explosion of this magnitude would even hit the magic node of the Icecrown Glacier, and even cause the entire glacier to collapse. Alsace’s burial is far more than just being the same... He wants to bury his kingdom, let Icecrown died with him!

Judging from the outside world at this time, the huge purple storm started from the top of the Ice Throne and has spread upward and downward to a height of nearly 100 meters, enclosing one-third of the entire Icecrown Citadel, even The wizards far away in the Soul Forge were all affected.

Ronin, Jaina, Khadgar, and Kael'thas stood in four directions of the huge soul furnace, spurring a huge sealing circle, dense magic patterns all over the air in the hall, they were beating Now, connected into one body, with special runes, covering the fluctuations of the entire soul forge. This seal is temporary. In fact, the entire Azeroth is probably except for the old blue who controls the rainbow of focus. Apart from the dragon, no one can completely seal this furnace for smelting souls.

But at this moment, the purple storm whirled over the heads of the four wizards, distorting the steel beams made of the solid Saronite iron. Kael'thas' expression changed drastically several times, and finally he heard a deep voice. Say,

"Stay steady and increase your magic input! Don't let the soul furnace resonate!"

"Otherwise...otherwise we will all die here!"

On the central platform of Icecrown Citadel, Prince Muradin, the dwarf prince who had just dispersed a group of ghouls, raised his head and stared at the soul storm extending downwards above his head. The warhammer in the dwarf’s hand touched the ground. He even Subconsciously took a breath,

"A soul of this size... Holy Light!"

"Hold the line! Don't let this group of monsters break through!"

The gray-haired Paladin Erigor forced himself not to watch the soul storm spinning in the sky. He guarded the gates of Icecrown Citadel. The undead rushing from the entire Icecrown Glacier kept attacking him. The line of defense, where people are dying almost every second, but the old knight never thought of retreating. From the moment he stepped into this land, his life didn't belong to him.

"Either go back with victory, or die here with glory."

Erie Gole said silently, looked at the purple storm that obscured the horizon for the last time, drew out the long sword behind, and rushed into the anxious battlefield with the last reserve team.

"Deadly fight...don't retreat! For Lordaeron!"

"Ah, look, the final curtain ends... I'm very satisfied!"

Arthas' long, bone-white hair under the helmet of dominance was constantly flying, and his voice was dry, obviously because of the tremendous pressure. To manipulate a soul storm of this magnitude, even with the power of the Lich King, it seemed too much. Too hasty, but it doesn't matter anymore.

All the magic patterns on the surface of Frostmourne lit up at this moment, like a baton in the hands of a conductor. He looked at the Angel of Order who was still hitting the purple soul barrier, and there was no sadness or joy in his eyes. .

"Dick, this time, you lose."

"The price of losing... is death!"

Frostmourne slashed down in the air, and the purple storm burst and roared, as if it was about to detonate in the next moment. In the dark cathedral, Malygos's claws also pierced the frozen one at this moment. heart.

"I won't forgive you!"

At this moment, Arthas's chest suddenly exploded without any attack, and the black death energy was out of control. That heart was far more important than he thought, even if he throws it away and is destroyed, right His injury is also huge enough. In normal times, this injury will only bring extreme pain, but at this critical moment, what this pain brings is the real end.

The storm came to a sudden stop!

"Uh! This... this kind of... ahem..."

Arthas opened his mouth. He didn't finish a complete sentence. He vomited a mouthful of black blood. The loss of energy made him lose control of the soul storm at this moment. The next moment, silver light and blood red The light flashed through his vision, and Uther, Mograine and Old Fording, who had dissipated their imprisonment, also energized once again, piercing the weapon in their hands into the body of the Lich King even more crazily.

The blood-red battle axe was an angry blow from Saurfang, who was out of trouble. Arthas's head was smashed up at this moment, and the black blood was swayed everywhere, and it was carried on top of his head. The Helm of Domination was also smashed into the air, clanging on the frozen ground in the distance.

The silver light, that was the final charge of the Angel of Order. The holy fire warhammer in his hand smashed into the center of Frostmourne. The magic sword that had been completely hollowed out caused a sharp neigh under this heavy blow. It’s pain, it’s overwhelming. This blow interrupted the continuous escape of the soul. This super-large soul storm itself uses the magic sword as a carrier. When it is suddenly interrupted, it will be for Frostmourne. This kind of weapon is also extremely destructive.

Under the dual pressure of internal and external pressure, the first crack emerged from the body of Demon Sword's sword.

Then there was the death ruling laughing wildly in Uther's hand, and Shadowmourne whistling in Fording's hands, one after the other, at the same time slashing at the place where the rift appeared.

"Dang Cang"

The black body of the sword kept beating at this moment, and finally broke completely, and the magic sword...broken.

Arthas' body also smashed to the ground in the roar of the soul storm that was completely out of control, losing the protection of the Helm of Domination, and the slightly thin face had no expression, like a complete The dying loser.

He lay on the cold, broken ice throne, holding the hilt of a broken sword in his left hand. When the darkness that had always existed before his eyes was defeated, all that remained was a glorious purple color. There are icy snowflakes falling on the skin from the sky, the cold wind, and everything around.

Just like his father, the king who died on the throne.

He has also become a king, and he is about to die on his throne.

This fateful reincarnation... At the end of this battle, there is a hint of black humor that is absolutely not funny.

The past scenes kept flashing in front of him like watching flowers, the court of Lordaeron, the night of Tirisfal, the prosperity of East Dallonemir, the quietness of Quel'Thalas, and the coldness of Northrend. .. There is still a touch of melancholy.

When the dark side disappeared from his body, Arthas felt that he had lost something, the most important things.

"Ahem...I guess, are you looking for him?"

A voice rang beside Arthas. As he died, the Lich King turned his head with difficulty and saw Dick sitting cross-legged on the ground with a white face, Saurfang supporting Woking, Old Fording and Mo Gleni looked at Alsace, who had recovered the last trace of soberness, with complicated eyes. Velen's left hand was placed on Dick’s shoulder, and the soft light was constantly beating, healing Dick’s fatal injury, the farthest point. It was Uther, the death lord stood alone on the edge of the collapse of the Ice Throne with a bone sword, looking at the darkness in the distance, not knowing what he was thinking... he took off his helmet, There was a trace of insoluble confusion on that firm face.

Dick held a faint white little lantern in his hand. The purple souls rioting in the sky were being absorbed into the humble and primitive lantern in a special way, but Arthas noticed, But it was the little kid who looked a little fearful hiding behind him.

The child has blond hair, blue eyes, a blue vest, a pair of brown breeches, and a pair of gorgeous boots. His illusory body indicates his identity. It is an undead, look. Going up is still an undead with his own wisdom.

Dick endured great pain and held the ebony pipe in his mouth. Amidst the rising smoke, his voice was low and sad.

"Sorry... I'm late... Alsace, I only have time to save him..."