There's a saying.

Men don't care about loyalty, loyalty is just not enough temptation.

Women don't care about betrayal, betrayal is just that the price given is too high.

Baron Rivendell's insistence on the Cowling crossing is also not because of some great golden spirit, nor does he want to play the hymn of mankind, but only because of the choice of interests.

The Cursed Sect seized every opportunity to coerce and lure him, and if the commander-in-chief of the front line could be a second or fifth boy, then the human defense line would definitely be vulnerable.

Unfortunately, the Scourge didn't give enough, and Baron Rivendell ignored the temptation to retain his loyalty.

So when Arthas arrived at the front line, as far as the eye could see, the invincible under his crotch hissed with disdain.

Don't worry about how a skeleton war horse barks, anyway, His Royal Highness the prince is dissatisfied.

Although the Lich King controls Arthas's soul, His Royal Highness is still a mentally independent individual at this time.

And, at this time, Arthas had received the power of blood, shadow, and frost, but he was still alive.

In addition to his absolute loyalty to the Lich King, His Royal Highness the Prince was still the young man in his twenties at this time.

Loyalty is not absolute, it is equal to absolute disloyalty.

If the ability is not outstanding, it is all waste.

After finishing the work of the Psychic Tower, Arthas once again went to the front, although Arthas did not master the "this" mastery, but he also despaired of the Scourge Legion's command art.

More than 100,000 troops, storming for several days, can't even take a Kaolin intersection, what's the use of asking for these wastes?

At the instigation of Kel'thugad, Arthas reached out to Naozu.

As a result, the Lich King sensed Arthas's displeasure with the Scourge Legion.

Yes, it's loyal.

So the Lich King Neozu granted Arthas greater authority, or rather, Frostmourn greater authority.

At this point, the energy provided by all the previously built psychic towers can be invoked by Frost Sorrow.

Arthas has finally attained powers beyond mortals.

He no longer expects the Cursed Sect to corrupt and win over the human resistance, and he no longer struggles with the Scourge Army's dog-like tactical command.

There is nothing that cannot be solved by an all-army assault.

If there is, then twice.

Humanity discovered the disadvantage of low-level soldiers of the Scourges during the days of war.

Rivendell laughs at the recklessness of ghouls, the skeletal soldiers are unintelligent, the stitching monsters are bloated, the death knights are scarce, the only notable corpse cart still shoots no more than artillery, and the Scourge is not a hero.

So, Arthas looked at the Kaulin line dug into the ground by the Stratholme people who had been digging into the ground to survive, and wondered if he was too harsh on the Scourge Legion.

Twenty-seven trenches, eleven layers of fences, there are mines in the ditches, and there are soldiers behind the fences, which is indeed not easy to fight.

The Scourge had filled three trenches with white flesh and bones, breached two layers of fences, and crushed the will of the soldiers and civilians of Stratholme to resist with a huge numerical advantage, consuming a large amount of supplies in Kaulin Town.

If the attack continues in a step-by-step manner, the fighting enthusiasm and the will to resist will soon dissipate.

These are foreseeable endings.

But Arthas didn't want to wait, or couldn't.

He had no time to waste.

His Royal Highness dismounted, and after a long period of accumulation, a torrent of soul gushed out, and the majestic magic destroyed the fortifications built by the Stratholme people at the Kaorin junction like a landslide and tsunami, and the earth mixed with flesh and blood plowed a deep scar on the earth like debris carried by an avalanche.

The path of the charge had appeared, and Arthas no longer paid attention to the horror of his actions, and the army of the undead swarmed up behind him.

Rivendell knew it was done.

A massacre is about to take place.

Nearly a month into preparation, the defensive line built by the city of Stratholme, which had cost all its manpower and material resources, was reduced to nothing by the terrifying sword of His Royal Highness the Prince of Arthas. The morale of the strong defensive line was completely broken, and even the Warlords could not stop the mass exodus. 163TXT

"Don't bother with the deserters, gather all the troops that can still be commanded, and plug the gap!"

It's not that Baron Rivendell doesn't want to run for his life, it's that he knows that he can't run away from the sleepless Scourge Legion.

Although Arthas ploughed the ground with a sword, tearing a crack in the defense line outside Cowlin Town, such an earth-shattering move is definitely not easy to use, and there is a high probability that it will not be able to be used a second time in a short time.

So gather troops to block it, and there may be salvation.

No matter how bad it is, if you delay the offensive of the Cataclysm Legion, you have a chance to escape, right?

The defense line built with all the strength of Stratholme, if he escaped without a fight, he would be killed when he returned, and he had to do something before running away.

His Excellency the Baron, who had not died for his countrymen at all, had a debatable starting point, but in the midst of panic and confusion, the worst order was better than no order at all.

Thus, the tragic battle began.

The wide, man-deep trench was expected to be a thick log fence that did hinder the progress of ghouls and skeletal soldiers, but it could not withstand the brute force of abhorrence

Arthas is here, and he comes with a large number of spellcasters and death knights.

In the face of the sheer disparity in power, the Stratholm soldiers' prowess became a trick to please the lich and the psychics.

Death clouds covered the artillery positions of humanity, and plague clouds not only corrupted the bodies of the martyrs, but also their minds.

The Cursed cultists lurking in the crowd are stirring up, fear destroys reason, and despair spreads.

Stratholme Cathedral, which served as the training base for the Silver Hand, sent most of the paladins to help Rivendell defend Cowling.

But the paladin's aura of concentration and piety could not envelop everyone.

The cowardly escaped, and the valiant died generously.

The tide of battle is one-sided, and humanity has run out of skills.

"Enough, you don't deserve to die here."

"Dedication and sacrifice, we have nothing to fear."

"If you die here, who will defend Stratholme, retreat, this is my order."

"Obey ......"

After Baron Rivendell struggled to persuade the paladins who were about to be martyred, he looked at the town of Cowling, which was on the verge of collapse, and felt that he had done enough, and should be able to cope with the errand.

So, while giving the order to defend the front line, he also gave the order for all the members of the command to retreat.

With these sons and daughters of the powerful of Stratholme backing themselves, who can accuse themselves of fighting ineffectively.

Although His Excellency did not consider this collapse to be his own problem, one has to leave a way out.

Leave the Scourge Legion or something to the great Knight King, and defend Stratholme City by yourself.

With this in mind, Baron Rivendell was ready to make a full play.

With absolute confidence in his beloved horse, Rivendell and his retinue held high the banner of the alliance until the end.

As the roaring explosions rang out, the dead man had managed to infiltrate the lost line and ignite the explosives buried in the last three trenches.

Baron Rivendell didn't know if this action had inadvertently wounded the soldiers who were still holding out, but he knew that it had effectively stopped the Scourge Legion's attack.

You can leave safely.

"Bring the horses here, everyone is ready to ......"

Turning his head, Baron Rivendell didn't even finish a sentence before he realized that something was wrong.

One by one, his entourage stood and shook their bodies in despair.

A strange man dressed in black stood aside with a smile.

"On behalf of His Highness Arthas, I greet you."

Rivendell sighed, drew his saber and rushed forward.