Enter World of Warcraft with Dark Skills

Chapter 330: In vain
The tall and spacious hall was warm and bright, with an exquisitely crafted nanmu table in the middle, on which was placed a teapot of a strange style.

A chandelier was hanging above the table, pulled by an ancient chain, emitting a cold light.

There was a square table with three chairs on three sides, and one side at the back of the hall was empty. There was an oil painting hanging on that wall.

The painting shows a city on fire. The city is huge, but only ruins remain. In the center of the painting is a wide street, which is empty except for a single sign hanging in front of a tavern. Next to the tavern is a cathedral.

The church was solemn and dignified, but completely deserted. Upon closer inspection, one could only see a bony claw vaguely sticking out from the half-open door of the church. On one of the snow-white phalanges was a ring engraved with a coat of arms.

Apparently, when the fire was raging and the disaster occurred, this respectable gentleman was able to enter this sacred place for shelter. However, his status and wealth did not protect him. The once sacred church had long since become a den of filth. The once glorious Archbishop of Holy Light had long since left here.

A tall warhorse ran out from the street on the left side of the painting. The horse's owner was wearing heavy armor and holding a warhammer surrounded by holy light. The hammer head of the warhammer was faintly dripping with black blood. The knight on the horse was wearing a visor, and a corner of his cloak was burned by the fire.

The knight must be of noble status. His armor plate is fine, and the emblem of the royal family of Lordaeron has survived the fire, but it still shines brightly.

Behind him followed two guards, whose faces were pale and distorted, and it was obvious that they were not at peace.

There were three people sitting on three chairs. The one with his back to the door was an orc. He had an old face and a sinister expression. His blood-red eyes looked around flexibly.

Its focus has always been on the empty seat. Everyone here wants to sit in that seat.

On his left was a childish little boy. The hall was not hot, but beads of sweat still appeared on his forehead.

His eyes looked around, he didn't dare to look directly at the tall knight in front of him. Strangely enough, he was not afraid of the orc.

The tall knight had taken off his visor and turned his handsome face to look at the pale orc.

The three of them were silent. They knew that the time was almost up. Whoever could sit in the right seat would win the final victory.

The tall knight stood up, not looking at the little boy, but staring at the old orc.

"Ner'zhul, it's time to pay the price. You and your demon masters killed my father and slaughtered my people. Now let us fight to the death!"

If someone had looked closely, he would have found that this man was wearing the same armor as the man in the painting, but a corner of his cloak had been burned off by the fire.

The old orc sat on the seat facing away from the gate because he was a stranger. He was the last one to arrive so he had no choice but to sit here.

This old orc was the famous Lich King Ner'zhul. He thought that as long as he met the Death Knight Arthas, who was under his control, he would be able to merge with his body immediately and then devour his soul smoothly, becoming one of the most powerful creatures in all of Azeroth.

However, this was not the case. His first death knight was very complicated. His conscience and desires were intertwined, fighting each other. The unaware Lich King Ner'zhul plunged headfirst into the battle of wills of this man with a strong self-esteem and a lack of strong will.

Prince Alsace has always been entangled in responsibility and desire. Throughout his life, he has never lived for himself. He works hard every day to become a qualified prince. His father's earnest expectations and his teacher's earnest teachings have become a curse that binds him.

Before he took up Frostmourne, he was a good prince who served his country and his people.

If you don't believe me, we can compare him with other noble children.

Let's not talk about anything else, just compare it with Tyran Fordring. Although both of them have been training hard and strict with themselves. But when Tyran Fordring is not training, he has the care of his father and mother, and the company of little Jaina. Whenever he is depressed or criticized, his parents will comfort him. Jaina will go from Dalaran to Dalonshire to accompany him hunting and bring him delicious food.

After the hard training, Prince Arthas still had countless homework to do and endless classes to attend. His only playmate might be Marwyn, who would never disobey his orders. Once he made a mistake, all he could get was his father's disappointed eyes and the teacher's harsh criticism.

The friend he truly recognized might be the mute Wudi. Unfortunately, it left him early because of his willfulness. This trivial matter, which seemed insignificant to others, was a scar that could never heal in Prince Arthas' heart. The sword that killed it aroused the cruelty in his heart.

As a prince, he was approachable and could have normal conversations with the poor people of Lordaeron, celebrate festivals with them, and fight for them.

He didn't smoke, drink, or have a lover. He pursued a girl seriously instead of using some shady means. Although he lost the girl he loved, he didn't fall out with his rival. For a noble, especially a crown prince of a country, he was very good.

He didn't even accept Blackmore's gift. He thoughtfully let Theresa stay at his place for one night, but he did nothing. That night, he stayed there to save Theresa from being beaten.

Of course, Prince Arthas also had his shortcomings, that is, he was stubborn and insisted on his own opinion. This became the biggest weakness of his character and ultimately ruined him. His guilt cannot be pushed onto others.

Opposite the adult prince sat a little boy. He was nervous inside, but he still pretended to be calm. Under the table, he clenched his fists. What he was thinking was completely different from the other two people.

In his heart was a beautiful childhood, the days of hunting beasts and fighting against gnolls with the people of Lordaeron, the care of his mother, the love of his sister, and even the teachings of Taelan Fordring.

He would never forget that Taelan Fording had comforted him and told him not to compare his weaknesses with others' strengths. He should bring out his unique strengths and do what he should do within his ability, instead of forcing himself and others.

He knew that he had committed a grave sin. He constantly reflected on himself. He was the last of Arthas' humanity. He was also the final salvation of his soul.

He looked at his lonely and twisted self confronting the cruel orc, and he couldn't help but look at a specimen hanging on the opposite wall. It was a huge wolf head.

In fact, Prince Arthas and Tyran Fordring have a lot of intersections. How could a rising noble star lack attention? The royal family of Lordaeron is no exception. Families with daughters will focus on Tyran Fordring, just like the Proudmoore family.

At that time, Tirion Fordring was only a lord, and only a knight. But everyone knew that no matter how much those people in Agamand excluded Tyran Fordring, he would leave the title and fiefdom to this kid. He was powerful and favored by the Archbishop of the Holy Light, Alonsus Faol. And he was the only son of Tirion Fordring.

After the Battle of Zul'Matha, they could no longer stop his rise. He was bound to be promoted from a lord to a great lord. In the human political system, a great lord can be compared with a king. They are either powerful or strong. They are the pillars of the king's rule over the country.

So Tyran Fording and Arthas went hunting together. In their spare time, the nobles' life was to attend banquets and go hunting. So a friendly match began, and Arthas, who was burning with anger, chose to face the leader of a forest wolf without hesitation.

As a young boy, he still lacked great strength, and he was not using powerful epic weapons like the Might of Menethil.

But the wolves were unprecedentedly united, and they cooperated well with the Wolf King. With the desperate fighting of Marwyn and Falric, Arthas got a chance to fight the Wolf King one-on-one. Kill the Wolf King, and the wolves will immediately flee. People cannot survive without a head. The same goes for wolves. The decapitation tactic has always been a good way to solve big problems. This is also the reason why the profession of assassin and thief has been enduring.

However, what Taelan Fording said was absolutely right. People can be strong and insist on their own opinions. But they must never do things beyond their ability, because that will only hurt others and themselves. Young Arthas was taught a lesson by a cunning wolf king.

It had the same idea as Arthas. It was also a powerful magical creature. It was not just a beast, it also had wisdom. It also felt that this group of soldiers was very difficult to deal with. Killing their leader was a good way to deal with them.

Arthas fought hard, using all the skills he had learned.

It was during this battle that he began to agree with Muradin Bronzebeard's words. Uther's methodical tactics were only suitable for large-scale combat. In such a chaotic battlefield, only the dwarves' inferior tactics could help him.

Just as the Wolf King was about to use Furious Bite to end the human, Taelan Fordring appeared behind them on his warhorse, along with his lieutenant Carlin Redpath.

The somewhat exceptionally powerful Tyran Fording encountered few wild beasts. The only thing he caught was a wild boar. Only such a reckless and greedy beast would stay to face him.

Taelan Fordring helped Arthas with a holy bullet and together they killed the powerful magical creature. In the end, he also gave the giant wolf king to Arthas.

Hunting a magical creature is not only an honor, but also a rare treasure. Its teeth and claws are all excellent magical materials. But Tyran Fordring gave it to Arthas without any care.

It was from then on that they became friends and Taelan Fordring began to express his views to Arthas.

Men's friendship may be a bottle of wine or a warm word. They are born lonely, and the more ambitious they are, the lonelier they are. Their ideals are incomprehensible to others. Men also have no way to vent their inner depression, and there is no shoulder for them to cry on.

The child stared at the specimen, which still had some power, in a daze. Its teeth were really sharp, and its fur seemed to be emitting lightning. If we waited a few years, it might be able to use lightning arrows.

But we can't wait a few more years. If it really learns to use lightning arrows, countless farmers and hunters will lose their lives.

Ner'zhul had already used all his strength, verbal attacks, inducements, and the influence of mind magic. He had used every possible means. Now he had begun to use Jaina as a weapon to attack Prince Arthas. He had begun to break through. The beloved girl was taken away by someone else, which was something that no man could tolerate.

Strangely, although Prince Arthas was angry, he was not defeated. It seemed that only by giving him the famous problem could he surrender.

Stratholme Problem!

Then the painting opposite the door came alive, and the whole hall began to become hot. Screams and shouts of killing were heard at the same time. Violent silver lightning flashed outside the hall. This was Prince Arthas's spiritual world, and those were his spiritual powers.

He is also a man of great talent.

However, Ner'zhul was still disappointed. Arthas should have been defeated, but he did not lose control. He looked at Ner'zhul angrily.

"You forced me to do this! If I didn't give this order, hundreds of thousands of people in Stratholme would all become your minions. It's been a settlement for humans for tens of thousands of years. There are countless corpses buried under the tombs. It would be a disaster."

"This is all your fault. It's not just me who is stained with blood, it's you too! Cruel orc, from this point of view, you are the one who deserves death."

Ner'zhul was shocked. He could comfort himself in this way. His logic was a little flawed. But it was meaningless to get entangled in this war where right and wrong were difficult to distinguish. Fortunately, his powerful soul power could save the little guy from distraction:

Obtain the secret of Arthas from the child who represents the kind side of Arthas.

So he started to shamelessly expose people's scars. He was invincible!
Invincibility finally became a sharp arrow and shot towards Prince Arthas, who was already beginning to recover.

The prince drew out the Sword of Sorrow in anger, but after weighing the power comparison between himself and Ner'zhul, he put the sword down again.

He and it were evenly matched. It was a battle without a conclusion.

He endured it. He waited, waited for the disgusting orc to show a flaw. While it was taking away his memory, he would also slowly understand what it had done. Communication was always a two-way process.

Just a moment later, the fact that Ner'zhul was deceived by Kil'jaeden who pretended to be his wife became a cannonball, shooting at the shameless old shaman.

This is the biggest stain on its lifelong wisdom.

Then the old shaman also began to get angry. The two began the ultimate battle of scars. Each of them was left with wounds all over their bodies and hearts.

Ner'zhul had already used his traditional manly skills to attack Prince Arthas for spending a night alone with Therese and doing nothing.

Arthas began to attack the embarrassing experience of Ner'zhul kneeling down and begging for mercy from Kil'jaeden.

After all, Ner'zhul was older and had done more shameful things, and Prince Arthas had exposed his true colors. He turned to attack the little boy who had been silent the whole time.

This time the effect was surprisingly good. The prince was also hurt emotionally.

He was young and not as shameless as Ner'zhul. He thought that if he killed the little boy, he could absorb his power and become stronger. Then he could defeat the old shaman and become the most powerful being in the world.

So he drew out his sharp blade and stabbed the child opposite him.

Ner'zhul was surprised at Arthas's cruelty, but it was you. Kill him...

He will become strong, and he will be next.

At this moment, a outsider broke in.

Tichondrius, who escaped from the Broken Isles, finally arrived. It didn't come to announce good news, it came to warn the police.

"You three idiots, stop fighting and unite!

Taelan Fordring is dead! He was devoured by a being called Anther. He has regained his strength now. He will be here soon to take the Crown of Domination and the Sword of Sorrow. There is no time."

Arthas, who had a fierce look on his face, had already made a decision. Suddenly, when he heard that Tyran Fordring had been devoured, he actually put down Frostmourne, which was flashing with cold light and was extremely happy.

"Is he dead too? It turns out that all my persistence is meaningless. Even if I become the Lich King and turn everyone into undead, I can't take revenge on them?

Well, instead of committing more sins, I would rather let you atone for my sins."

He put down the Sword of Sorrow, and a gray aura emerged from his body. That was the power of his soul, and of course the souls of the night elves and demons that the sword helped him seize.

The boy's aura began to grow stronger. He would bring Arthas the final redemption.

However, the old shaman saw an opportunity. The rune he had buried on Arthas' discarded heart began to take effect. It also began to drain Prince Arthas's power. Everything has its cause and its end.

The prince threw away his heart because of the heartache. Now the arrow hits him one year later.

"The final victory is mine! You will both be defeated dogs in the end!"

It won. It was originally evenly matched with Prince Arthas. Now that it has gained his power, the weakest child is certainly no match for it!
"I am the Lich King! The most powerful king in Azeroth!

Now that Taelan Fordring is dead, no one can stand against me!
Tichondrius, I give you a chance! Offer your soul and surrender to me completely. I will spare your life."

……

It won, but the remaining three guys didn't react at all.

The two Arthas sensed the arrival of a unique existence, which was told to them by the Holy Light back then.

Tichondrius felt that the opportunity had come. He could only provoke a war between the Lich King and the Death Written to escape His pursuit. When He left this world, he could carry out the Emperor's real plan!
I finally fucked that bitch Kim Taesa for once!
The Ice Throne shook violently, and a magical aura rose to the sky. All the sleeping undead creatures roared. Their king had returned, more powerful than ever before! The soul fire in their eyes burned fiercely. Blue aura overflowed from their eye sockets.

Their time has come!
Dar'Khan, who was far away in Quel'Thalas, laughed wildly!
"Hahaha! My choice is right. The world will be ruled by undead creatures like us in the future. Liadrin. My stupid friend, are you ready to die?"

However, the undead that had just roared suddenly stopped moving.

A dazzling portal opened under the frozen mountains, and a figure surrounded by holy light appeared. He raised his hand and pulled a huge abomination in front of him, and with a flick of his fingers, he crushed it to death.

so troublesome!
"Sunfall!"

A sun fell from the sky! Even the top of the mountain was turned into ashes. All the dead spirits around wailed and then turned into ashes. The air became fresh.

A helmet tumbled down from the half-remaining mountain with a loud thud.

The ambition to be king and hegemony all ended up in vain!

Man proposes, God disposes. Just do your best.

(End of this chapter)