Lordaeron, which used to be beautiful and holy, was now dead silent.
Traces of the horrifying massacre from a few days ago were still all over the city. Half of the pure white tower had collapsed, the once magnificent streets were filled with rubble, and the walls were covered in scratches.
Dark blood splattered on the walls and the streets, as well as a few smelly pieces of flesh.
Most of the undead had been transferred to Dalajan a few days ago to participate in the war that attempted to destroy the City of Mages. Only a few undead with incomplete bones crawled around the city in confusion.
The sound of galloping could be heard, and a warhorse that was emitting a holy radiance stepped on a zombie that only had half of its body left. Even its intestines were hanging outside, giving this sorrowful undead its final rest.
On the wide streets of Lordaeron, eight knights were leading the way. In the middle, there were four large carriages and several guards. Another eight knights followed closely behind.
It was obvious that this was a funeral procession that did not fit in with the deathly silent City of Terror, as the carriages were carrying funeral ornaments. It was a very grand decoration. Perhaps it was done in a hurry, and the ornaments did not match, but it was obvious that it was for a high official.
"Stop! This is the territory of the great King of the Dead, Arthas Menethil! You … Ah — "A low-level Lich gathered over a hundred skeleton soldiers and zombies, but they were instantly defeated by the charging paladins who were emitting a golden radiance.
The fragile skeleton soldiers were directly smashed into meaningless pieces when they were touched by the heavy armored warhorses that were galloping at high speed. On the other hand, the Lich was struck in the chest by the leading Knight with a downward swing as though he was hitting a polo ball.
The Lich's magic was completely useless. His [Shadow Arrow] was directly nullified by the pure golden light of the leading Paladin, and its soul was instantly evaporated.
Without the obstruction of high-level undead, the team of Paladins mysteriously killed their way in from the east gate. They broke through several squads of low-level Lich troops, and rushed straight into the collapsed palace.
They arrived outside the empty throne room. The twelve Paladins spread out on their warhorses and cleared the undead in the surroundings. Eight Paladins wearing silver armor jumped down and lined up in two columns.
They used their strong arms to carry a huge coffin. The dim light shone softly on the coffin, and one could clearly see the Menethil royal family emblem carved in gold on the coffin.
They were the 'uninvited guests' that Tichondrius spoke of.
Arthis suddenly understood why the Dreadlord was so excited.
Standing at the door leading from the throne hall to the side hall, Arthis could clearly see that the leading Holy Knight's posture was different from the others. His golden winged pauldrons were also unique.
Arthas's hands suddenly trembled, and she could only grip Frostmourne with greater strength. He suppressed all the hesitation and apprehension in his heart and ordered his subordinates to take action.
Almost at the same time, the corpse that had been lying dead in the throne room moved.
It wasn't the wobbling and unsteady movements of low-level undead. Instead, it was more like a fierce tiger bending down before it hunted its prey.
A low-ranked Lich stood outside every broken window, raising a staff that emitted an ominous light and pointing it at the Holy Knights.
The Cave Demons burrowed out of the soil on the lawn of the palace, their sharp mouths trembling.
The team that ventured into the throne room was almost entirely made up of outstanding Holy Knights, but there weren't many of them. Arthis's Undead troops, who had been lying in ambush, easily surrounded them.
The Holy Knights put down the coffin and pulled out their weapons, but they didn't attack immediately. Instead, they stood in a circle and glanced at the tall and white-haired man beside the coffin, waiting for his orders.
Wuther — it couldn't be anyone else. He looked expressionlessly at his former student who walked in from the side hall, but there were clearly more wrinkles on his face than Arthis remembered.
Staring at Arthis, who stood in front of him, Wuther looked very calm, but his eyes were burning with the flames of justice.
Wuther pointed to the rotting corpse that was lying limp on the throne with a big hole in its chest and said, "I'm here to give your father his final rest!"
Arthis raised his runic magic sword, "As long as his soul is still in the sword, he can never rest in peace!"
Wuther's facial muscles twitched because of the pain, and his voice suddenly rose, like a whip tearing through the air, "You'd better get out of the way immediately. Otherwise, I can't guarantee that I won't do anything to you during your father's funeral. "
It was Arthis's turn to twitch, and he replied in a rough voice, "Fate has made us so. By the way, I've already disbanded your Knights. What right do you have to stand here? "
"Hahaha!" Wuther laughed. Although his laughter was bitter, it was not faked. "Do you really think that you can disband the Silver Hand with just power? Why am I standing here? Because of my pledge of loyalty to Terenas Menethil, because I'm a Holy Knight! Oh — I forgot, you're a Holy Knight too, I mean in the past. "
Holy Knight!
A once familiar word that had become extremely distant.
Arthis did not forget it.
His heart was tossing and turning in his chest, and for a moment, he lowered his sword.
But then he heard the whisper again, reminding him how much power he had now, emphasizing that the path of the Holy Light could not bring him what he desired. Arthis once again gripped [Frostmourne] tightly.
"Changing from a Holy Knight to a Death Knight is very dramatic, isn't it? Wuther. Although this process was enjoyable, I don't have time to reminisce. All of you must die! "
At this moment, Wuther's face finally showed extreme anger.
He stared at Arthis with a burning gaze that seemed to be able to destroy everything, and was extremely shocked. "Holy Light above, if you want to fight, I can fight for you. But can't you wait until we collect your father's remains? Arthis! His kingdom has already been destroyed by you, why do you have to blaspheme him again? You are the most despicable fallen person in the world! "
Father —
Arthis turned around and glanced at his father's eyes, which were still open and had not started to rot.
The eyes that had not died in peace seemed to still be staring at him.
A tremor spread through Arthis's body.
"Blaspheme? Depraved? "he murmured, more to himself than to answer.
It seemed that this was another reason why the Dreadlord had laughed sinisterly when he announced the order. He knew very well who was coming. This was obviously another test from the Lich King. He wanted to see if Arthis could fight against his master … and if he could further blaspheme his father's remains.
Arthis had enough.
He raised [Frostmourne] high and shook his head. "No! We fight now! "
"Why!?" Wuther's eyes widened in anger.
"For greater power!"
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