The Prince of Lordaeron bravely enters Azeroth

Standing on the freezing ice, Arthas asked, "What do you think the temporary power you have gained is?"

Although the Twelve Wings of Holy Light disappeared, Arthas's aura and pressure became even stronger.

The dark blue ice continued to spread in the air, and the oppressive aura of death enveloped Anaselon.

"Haha, you've abandoned the Holy Light. What can you do with your newfound power of death?"

With his cold eyes of death fixed directly on the evil flame waves coming towards him, Arthas gently swung his sword forward.

Crack, crack, the ice that could be seen with the naked eye continued to condense, without dodging or avoiding, it went straight up to him.

Watching the ice blocking the evil flames, Arthas said: "There are many things we can do, just like this."

Next, he took a step forward and instantly came in front of Anaseron, forcing him to quickly block.

Deep green fel energy emanated from his hands, passing through the Fel Shield and spreading to the blade of Frostmourne.

"Arthas Menethil, you are still so incompetent."

As Anetheron sneered, the evil energy that seemed like a cancer in the bone penetrated the death ice that blocked the way and burned onto Arthas's gauntlet.

Ignoring the burning of the fel flames, Arthas said, "You can't take the Holy Light, so how can you take this sword of death?"

Before he finished speaking, Arthas took another step forward.

The sudden burst of extreme deathly cold, Frostmourne, broke through all obstacles and passed through Anetheron's body.

Arthas took three steps and came behind the demon without saying a word.

He swung the Frostmourne in his hand and slashed back, and the ice condensed in the trajectory of the magic sword exploded.

The extremely cold ice froze the evil flame in Arthas's hand while piercing into the demon's body, continuing to explode with a constant rumbling sound.

Since the stabbing cannot suppress the demon, can the demon really hold on with larger and more dense wounds?

If you allow him to break through the defense, you will have to pay the price. A momentary weakness is also the final step to death.

Without thinking too much, Arthas grasped Frostmourne tightly and took advantage of the remaining time to slash at the demon again and again.

In his eyes, the fel blood flowing from Anetheron had been frozen by the cold and turned from green to blue.

Likewise, the fel magma that should have been boiling hot in the wounds on Anetheron's body stopped flowing and became cold.

Crackling, crackling, the extreme cold ice continued to explode, and Anaselon was no longer able to speak, his whole body had turned into solid ice.

There were already cracks on his body, but it was only maintained in its original state by the ice layer, so he still looked like a complete Nathrezim.

Although the ice was cut through again and again by the Ice Demon Sword, a trace of warm evil blood...the ice that was emitting cold air continued to return to its original state.

However, at this moment when he should have been longing for death, Anaselon's frozen face was moving.

Part of the ice on his face fell off, but was assimilated by the icy sword energy that followed, turning into part of the extreme cold power that strengthened Frostmourne.

Forcing a smile, Anaselon's voice came from his hideous, sharp mouth.

Even after suffering so many blows from Frostmourne, he still did not die, and his broken body showed signs of slowly recovering.

"Power is dear. You cannot kill me, Arthas Menethil."

The boiling power of evil energy first rolled out from his eyes covered with ice, and the power of extreme cold of death was receding.

With his eyes emitting beams of fel energy, Anetheron said: "Your sword cannot bind my soul!"

In response to this, Arthas only responded with his sword, a sword that still carried the deadly cold. Frostmourne longed for the soul of the demigod.

The demon's arms should have been stiff, but instead they tightly grasped Frostmourne, preventing the sword from moving forward an inch.

Although the stiff arms were broken, thin dark green threads appeared at the gaps, connecting all the gaps.

Horrible wounds... Among the broken arms and limbs, the boiling fel blood slowly glued together all the broken parts of Anetheron's body.

Even though the look would frighten ordinary people from the bottom of their hearts... there was no fear, that was Arthas's answer as he sheathed his sword and swung it again.

Anything that can be hurt will die sooner or later, it's just a lack of the right method. He is already thinking of a solution.

The longer you can delay, the better. The short three minutes are almost up, just like before.

The reconstructed pale arms caught the magic sword steadily, and the rekindled evil energy ensured that the soul-severing power and sharp cold blade of Frostmourne could not penetrate the body at all.

After filling the gap, Anetheron said, "Arthas, you have no chance."

"Although you have exploded with strength far beyond that of an ordinary person, I am actually just adapting to my new strength."

"The pain you gave me was only to help me rebuild this body and bear witness..."

"Holy Light, show this Nathrezim that his resistance is useless!"

Before he finished his words, a dark holy light that shone to the extreme descended, and the sky-high column of light enveloped Arthas and Anetheron in the blink of an eye.

At this moment, the deep green evil energy burning on Anetheron's body was completely covered by the thick darkness and even annihilated.

In this area, only one color is allowed, and that is black. Only black can shine and burn.

Crack! Once again, the blade of Frostmourne pierced through Anetheron's body, and it was still so sharp.

The pitch-black frost exploded the flesh, the pitch-black holy light burned the body, and a flash of pitch-black sword light split the body in two from top to bottom.

"Anetheron, you despise the Holy Light, spit on death, and embrace the evil power."

"Now, welcome your end."

"The Light will not protect you, death will not have mercy on you, and the fel is only chaos."

Another sword was swung out, and Anaselon was split into four again by the dark sword light. With only an unbelievable look in his eyes, he just watched the dark light column slowly dissipate.

After this move, the black light column disappeared, Arthas and the shattered Anetheron fell together, and Ner'zhul and Mephistroth, who were far away in the Frozen Throne, fell silent.

With a wave of his hand, the image of the ruins of Lordaeron was dispelled, and Frostmourne, which belonged to this world, spun through the air and slashed towards Ner'zhul. The cold breath was absorbed by Frostmourne one by one.

As the temperature below zero rose slightly... Crack, the magic sword cut open the Lich King's prison, causing Ner'zhul to scream in pain.

"Ah! Ugh... Ugh!"

Without the frost prison to protect his soul and balance the ruling power, his soul was completely permeated by the ruling power.

If you do not want to be ruled by the power of ruling, you can only control the power of ruling instead of becoming a servant of ruling.

Listening to the miserable howls in his ears, Mephistroth walked towards the scattered "Lich King" and injected the power of death into the Domination Rune Armor with both hands.

The Crown of Domination fell to the ground, but the other pieces of the Crown of Domination expanded and gradually pieced together under the pure power of death.

It slowly turned into a set of heavy armor covered with command runes, standing upright on the glacier. It floated in the air autonomously without a user.

"Ner'zhul, you no longer have the chance to escape. You have wasted many opportunities."

Looking at the Lich King's Armor of Domination without a helmet, Mephistroth picked up the Crown of Domination and walked towards the pattern waiting for the last piece of the puzzle.

At this moment, an old voice full of resentment and hatred came from the Crown of Domination.

"Mephistroth, the Warden and the Deceiver will not allow you to do this."

"You've crossed the line. This is not my mission...ah...stop..."

The boiling fel energy from Mephistroth's hand penetrated into the Crown of Domination, causing Ner'zhul hidden inside to scream in pain. His end should not be like this.

Putting the Crown of Domination into the gap of the puzzle, Mephistroth said: "Ner'zhul, it is your duty to bring the Burning Legion to Azeroth."

"How about other worlds... Lich King, it's time for you to wake up."

As soon as these words were spoken, the old orc's soul shadow left the Crown of Domination and gradually filled the Lich King, who had no user, downward and inward. The invisible power caused it to tremble.

The old orc, Ner'zhul, who was howling while holding his head, slowly stopped howling in pain, and the cold light in his eyes gradually solidified.

The soul fire stopped burning. It slowly retracted the flame and slowly turned into a pair of cold and indifferent eyes, emitting icy light.

"I...have...already...awakened..."

In the air, Frostmourne flew autonomously to the Lich King's right hand. It was a pale right hand, which was gradually covered by frost... and the hideous black and gray right armour of the ruling rune.

The old orc's soul filled the Lich King, and the pale flesh filled the Lich King. The humanoid Lich King, whose face could not be seen, raised the magic sword, announcing his awakening.

Extremely cold air blew out of the Lich King's mouth, and the Lich King said: "Frozen Throne, I have awakened."

……

"Haha, I won't die just like that."

"But, demon, you have fallen to us."