Archimonde’s words brought a secret sigh of relief to Arthas and Kel’Thuzad. If it had been Kil’jaeden, the punishment would undoubtedly have been far more severe.
Archimonde cast a dismissive glance at the two "little bugs" before him, but paid them little mind. After all, even if they were mere pawns, they were Kil’jaeden’s pawns. Since he had borrowed them from Kil’jaeden, it would be rather inconvenient if they were damaged.
Exhaling foul air from his two colossal nostrils, Archimonde nonchalantly declared: "It matters not; even with only half my power, it is enough! In this world, I am invincible!! Hahahaha—"
His wild laughter once again shook the entirety of Dalaran. Many elite cave demons, caught by the sudden cracking of the ground, were crushed to death in the fissures caused by the earth’s rupture. Archimonde was venting his joy and fury, and amidst his laughter, green, malevolent light began to emanate endlessly.
The earth trembled. Beside the kneeling Arthas, Invincible tossed and turned anxiously, raising his front hooves as if trying to minimize contact with the ground. Arthas tilted his head slightly, glancing at the City of Mages from the corner of his eye. There was a time when the towers were most beautiful at this hour, gleaming and glorious in the gathering dusk.
But just as he was lost in his memories, a deep explosion rumbled. The spire of the tallest and most beautiful tower in the city suddenly collapsed. It was Antonidas’s Mage Tower. Originally, as a Grand Lich who had defected to the Scourge, his Mage Tower had been permitted to remain. But with Antonidas’s defeat in Quel’Thalas, the Mage Tower became ownerless. It seemed that, like its owner, it could not escape the fate of destruction.
At this moment, its spire was slowly and inevitably rolling down, the entire tower seemingly crushed by an invisible giant’s hand. And this was not a deliberate attack by Archimonde! This was merely the shockwave generated by his immense power! The rest of the city quickly crumbled into dust. The sound of destruction rumbled in Arthas’s ears, shocking him, yet he never dared to raise his head.
He had once commanded the Scourge and single-handedly orchestrated the destruction of Silvermoon City. But he had fought for Dalaran twice, and the second time, he had only taken it with the help of Antonidas, the greatest "traitor." This scene before his eyes—it was so effortless, just a flick of the finger...
The destruction of Quel’Thalas had been a hard-won victory. If he hadn’t destroyed Silvermoon City and resurrected Kel’Thuzad, it would have been a complete failure, because in the end, he was no match for the Alliance army led by Duke. And now it seemed that Archimonde could easily destroy any magnificent city of mankind without even being there in person. The disparity in power levels was truly immense.
Along with Archimonde’s wild laughter, the most elite Scourge troops at Arthas’s disposal were also annihilated. Five hundred Death Knights, eight hundred Liches, over ten thousand elite Skeleton Warriors, and some elite Ghouls... and countless cannon fodder. Only God knew how many would remain in the end. Seeing this scene, Arthas felt a pang of pain in his heart, but he dared not show it at all.
Alright! My master’s master’s colleague, as long as you are happy!
Kil’jaeden loved to settle scores after the fact, making people’s lives worse than death, and their deaths worse than destruction. Archimonde was at the other extreme. He possessed a completely linear way of thinking. As long as he got over it on the spot, everything would be fine.
Just as Archimonde was laughing wildly, a small incident occurred. The seemingly doomed Antonidas’s Mage Tower, perhaps triggered by some latent defense mechanism, actually launched an attack on its own! The dazzling arcane light almost immediately drew the attention of most of the powerful beings in the city.
The thunder that exploded in the sky was so sudden that many strong individuals only reacted by subconsciously casting a magic shield on themselves before the attack arrived. Who would have thought that the Mage Tower’s target was not any of them, but the demon commander Archimonde!
Archimonde’s response made Arthas and Kel’Thuzad’s eyes widen. His response was... no response! It was a powerful attack that gathered countless magical energies from an Antonidas-class wizard tower. Even Arthas wouldn’t dare to face such immense and terrifying magical power head-on.
However, after the massive explosion, Archimonde simply turned his head, completely unharmed. Not to mention any injuries, there wasn’t even a trace of a black mark on the abdominal muscles where he was struck. Although it was understood that low-level mysteries would inevitably be dispelled by top-level arcane forces, the gap was so vast it was simply unbelievable!
Attack the Burning Legion Commander!? If it were Kil’jaeden, there would likely be widespread chaos, and they would have to hunt down the possible perpetrator, or tear down the mage tower three times over. The arrogant Archimonde didn’t care at all, but merely turned and said: "Tichondrius!"
With that call, the figure of the Dreadlord Tichondrius suddenly materialized in the black mist and knelt on one knee to salute Archimonde: "My lord, are you calling me?"
"Kil’jaeden said that the Scourge is left to you, the Dreadlords." Having said this, without even a second glance at Arthas, Archimonde seemed to sense his true target, then took huge, earth-shaking strides and began to move towards it.
If he wasn’t mistaken, Archimonde’s target had to be the World Tree Nordrassil on Mount Hyjal! Only the World Tree! Only the Well of Eternity next to the World Tree could attract the attention of a super-demon of his caliber!
Great beings had great goals.
Lesser beings had lesser ideas.
Kel’Thuzad’s body seemed to tremble. Arthas understood why this happened—he had led the charge for the Burning Legion, spent over a decade preparing for battle in Azeroth, accumulated strength in Northrend, and achieved success in one fell swoop, finally succeeding in summoning Archimonde’s Lich King, Ner’zhul. But at the moment of success, he was ruthlessly abandoned! Perhaps, in the eyes of mortals in Azeroth, Ner’zhul was an extremely terrifying Lich King. However, in the eyes of the Burning Legion’s commander, Ner’zhul was merely an insignificant pawn.
Arthas pondered Archimonde and Tichondrius, stroking his chin thoughtfully. On his knees, Frostmourne glowed coldly.
Almost simultaneously!
In Stratholme, Duke screamed in shock. His face turned pale, and he was completely unable to control his emotions. "Fuck! A Dawn-level attack! It’s actually ineffective!? Then what is the point of my hard training?"