Antonidas's soul was pierced by the [Frostmourne], like a piece of barbecue meat pierced by a barbecue fork. When Arthis retracted the sword, the old Mage's soul followed it.
The old Mage was about to scream in fear, but he suddenly wondered if he was hallucinating. On Arthis's still handsome face, the old Mage seemed to have a trace of remorse in addition to endless anger.
Arthis withdrew the sword, as if shaking off the blood stains on the sword, and flung the old Mage's soul that was originally pierced out of the sword.
The old Mage's soul could not go anywhere. He curled up on the floor like a living thing. The cold feeling from the depths of his soul made every molecule of his soul tremble.
The indescribable pain seemed to tear his soul into pieces. He subconsciously stretched out his soul-shaped arm to cover the wound on his chest, as if blood was coming out of his chest, as if his palm could give his heart warmth.
"Destroy me!" Antonidas was almost begging, and said weakly, "I pray … for a quick destruction."
Antonidas's senses began to dull, and even his voice became indiscernible.
Arthis's voice suddenly came. "Based on what you have done, it is not that I cannot give you a peaceful rest …"
This … gave Antonidas hope.
In the next second, Arthis personally extinguished this hope.
"Unfortunately, if you want to blame someone, blame Duke Marcus for ruining my and the Lich King's plan, and then Uther for refusing the embrace of darkness. I can't bear a third failure …"
Fear turned into countless sharp nails that pierced into his soul, but this feeling only lasted for a moment, and soon dissipated as everything around him became blurry.
Will Arthis resurrect me? Turn me into a shambling and inferior zombie?
"No —" he murmured, his voice full of resentment and indignation seemed to come from the distant mountains. "I am Antonidas — an existence that could have been the world's greatest Mage — how could you … turn me …"
Before he finished, Antonidas lost all senses.
He thought that this would be an eternal slumber, where all the pain would disappear, leaving only the soft darkness and endless comfort and tranquility.
He thought that there would be no more open or covert struggles between the Parliament and the Alliance, and that he could finally put down the heavy burden of being the leader of the Dalajan and rest forever.
Unfortunately …
The sudden pain pierced through his soul.
This was not pain that came from his five senses, but an excruciating pain that he had never experienced before.
He had once failed in an experiment and burned half of his body.
He had once had his arm smashed by an ogre during an adventure.
No physical pain he had ever experienced could compare to this torment.
Antonidas suddenly realized that this was the torture of the soul.
It was impossible for him, who had been captured by the runic sword [Frostmourne], to have a warm and peaceful death.
The power of the demon sword was so violent that it tortured the souls of a hundred people in one breath. The unbearable pain caused an impulse to surge up from the deepest part of his soul. This impulse went straight through his entire soul. The pain in the depths of his heart could not be vented, and the intense pain could not find any way to escape.
This high-intensity torture easily broke through his will.
Almost at the same time, in the shallow layer of Antonidas' soul, there was a tempting demonic voice that was slowly guiding him.
"Do you … desire eternal life?"
"Do you not have as much energy as before?"
"Do you hate your aging body?"
"Do you feel that you cannot let go of your power?"
"Do you think that human life is not enough to explore the endless mysteries of magic?"
The five questions played in a loop.
Antonidas wanted to resist, but he could not help but sink into it.
He wanted to say no.
But every time he was about to say it, his heart would tell him that he was lying!
He rejected it a thousand times, but the demonic voice asked him ten thousand times.
The more he resisted answering, the more sorrowful he felt in his heart. Not only did it increase his pain, but it also made the voice sound even more blood-curdling.
He did not know how many times it repeated, but finally …
"Yes! I am a coward! I hate myself for being weak! Fine! You win, I surrender — "
Along with the humiliating declaration, the defense in his heart finally collapsed like a dam. The dark and cold tide drowned his heart and quickly changed his soul.
After a long time, the darkness dispersed from his senses, but everything in front of him did not return to color.
Antonidas did not need to rely on the seven colors of red, yellow, and blue to recognize the guy who tortured him, because even in the colorful world, he was only made of black, white, and gray.
The rune magic sword [Frostmourne] that had devoured his soul was still shining brightly. Arthas raised his other hand and made a summoning gesture. This was how he pulled him out of the terrifying world that was sealed by the magic sword.
"Demonic spirit — before you return to your own skeleton, you will be like this. When you return to your own body, you will become a powerful lich, "Arthas told Antonidas in a tone of judgment.
Lich!?
I actually became a lich?
Antonidas felt a wave of humiliation, but also a kind of pleasure.
Arthas continued, "Although I do not want to admit it, I found that I do need a few loyal commanders to help me control the growing Scourge Army. Now, you, the once revered Great Sorcerer, will serve me. "
Antonidas felt an indescribable fear.
"No, I refuse — my magic will not pour out on my people, and every mystic who yearns for the mysteries of magic!" Although his voice had become hollow and grotesque, Antonidas tried to make his voice sound dignified.
"Is that so?" The evil prince made a gesture. It was just a slight movement of his fingers, but this extremely subtle movement caused him to shrink his entire soul due to the sharp pain.
With unbearable pain, the old mage finally realized how powerless he was in front of the most powerful death knight. He finally realized that he had become the devil's tool, just a little more advanced than those rotting corpses and stinking ghouls.
A few days later, he followed Arthas back to the Dalajan, a place he was very familiar with.
Then, he sensed his own body.
"Go, let me use your mages!" The fallen prince said arrogantly.
Antonidas let out a shrill scream and rushed to his own body.
On this day, an extremely powerful lich was born.
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