Dinen never wanted to be a spellcaster. Ω Δ．．

He firmly believed that he was born to hold a sword. The touch of the blade's flesh tearing through flesh would make his heart beat wildly with joy, and the passing of death would make him grin with his teeth. He never minded getting his hands dirty, and he was never afraid to make eye contact with the dying. He was accustomed to sweating and bleeding day after day, as well as to the weight of his armor.

But spells are much more ethereal.

How can you stop the flowing water with your bare hands, how can you twist the wind, how can you lift the earth, especially when you are still standing on it, how can you grasp the formless and immaterial energy, and then drive it in the direction you want, although Drektar's teachings are impeccable, Dinen still has difficulty controlling this power that does not belong to him.

He wasn't born to be a shaman, and he couldn't stand the silly waving of his hands, begging for a little bit of strength to lend him whatever it was. But he still has some ways of his own.

Now, he let go of his mind and let the anger take over his heart.

This anger comes from hatred. The day he burned his home and family with his own hands, his heart burned with it. Years of wandering and fighting have not quelled it, but have been fueled by many similar misfortunes.

This anger also comes from pain. He fought as best he could, to save everything, but there would always be sacrifices, losses and grief, and there would always be blood shed by anyone other than him. Half of the city was on fire at this moment, and he knew it was going to stop it.

This anger also comes from longing. His tyrannical nature and desire for revenge cried out in his mind at all times, and he longed to inflict greater pain on his enemies than he had endured, to give them complete destruction. He rejoices in their fear and torment, just as they rejoice in the terror and torment of innocents.

Others, such as the pain of a wound, such as the annoyance of losing a weapon, he dug out every tiny flame from the deepest depths and threw them into the unquenchable fire in his heart.

And the world heard his wrath.

Lightning came at a gallop, with brisk steps, patrolling around. Thunder exploded from the thick clouds, one, two, and then converged into a roar. The withered plants snapped their branches in the sudden violent currents, and the stones jumped uneasily under the tremor of the earth. The solid ice that covered the square cracked, and the thin edges were as sharp as knives.

The necromancers watched these changes, their faces pale and dumbfounded. Despite being dismissed as deviant, they are in some ways the same as traditional mages, using meticulous chanting, gestures and calculations to achieve subtle results, which is why magic is often equated with elegance. Taught self-control since their apprenticeships, they never imagined that anyone would trigger the power of nature in such a wild and crude way.

The lack of control is obviously yes. There is no doubt about the extreme danger.

"You're a shaman"

Malganis' loud roar was almost drowned out by the thunder, and it threw a cloud of shadow energy at Dinein, who rolled on the ground to avoid it. But the change in his surroundings was not interrupted by his interference, but rather as if he had received some kind of signal of attack. The thunder was quiet for a moment, then crashed down, drowning everything with a deafening crackle and blinding lightning.

Dineen was the only exception, and the element of riot naturally avoided him. But even then he had to close his eyes to ward off the excessive light. He breathed heavily, forcing himself to stay focused in the midst of pain and anger. He uses his emotions to resonate with the elements, but must not be coerced into them in reverse.

Every explosion felt like it was cut straight into his nerves, every jolt was like his bones shattering, every breath was like swallowing a cold blade. He had a splitting headache and a rage, some desperate to tear something apart, another demanding an order to stop, right now.

He finally steadied himself and waited for the storm to pass.

It was hard to tell if it had lasted for a dozen seconds or a dozen hours, until the elementals transmitted a feeling of exhaustion and silence to him, and Dinen realized the end of the storm. He struggled to open his eyes and look forward.

The square is no longer there, be it the stone slabs, the fountain or the hedges that serve as boundaries. The ground as a whole is sunken and uneven, making it difficult to settle down. He saw corpse-like objects in the ravines, and there didn't seem to be as many living people as he had seen before. But Dinen didn't have time to dwell on it, he struggled to his feet, took a few seconds to regain his balance, his stiff fingers removing another sword from his belt, staring at the end of the plaza with a suppressed roar, the Dreadlord spread his wings and scattered the purple-black shield around him.

Dineen sneered at its menacing gaze.

"Hmm," he gestured, looking around. Moving his head made him dizzy and wanted to throw up, but instead of showing it, he said lightly, "Now you're the only one left." ”

"No," Marganis hissed, taking a step forward, "it's the two of us." ”

Dinen raised his sword with an unchanged expression.

"I don't think so." A third voice interjected.

His face fell.

"I thought I told you how far to run." Dinen glared at the Dreadlord in front of him, as if Gianna's sudden turn back was all the fault of the other party.

"And I thought you could do it all by yourself." Gianna returned the salute without taking her eyes off Malganis. The water elemental around her let out a surging grunt, as if to signify agreement.

"Just a little bit."

"Don't you think this dot looks more like a circle," Gianna said skeptically.

Dineen scoffed, "That's what you haven't seen fatter yet"

As he saw the Dreadlord's claws twitch, he jerked to the side, causing his forehead to hit the stone slab without any cushion. Even then it was a step too late. Dark green flames swirled around his armor, melting steel and conducting heat to the surface of his skin, burrowing into the gaps in his joints and cauterizing nearby muscles. When he took off his armor, he would inevitably have to tear off a lot of his own skin.

But Dinen didn't care about that anymore.

At this moment, his rising anger finally crossed a certain tipping point, and pain was no longer an obstacle, but a strong stimulus to his warlike nature, guiding him to ignore all negative distractions. He swallowed the sour water in his mouth, almost choking, and then struggled to get up from the ground, tearing off the dizziness and tiredness like a tattered cloak wrapped around his body and throwing them behind him. His limbs were no longer stiff, in fact he had completely forgotten about it, and could only feel something in his chest exploding, forcing him to act immediately.

He rushed forward like a black bolt of lightning.

Malganis threw away the spell he had used to fight back against Gianna and reached out to summon her weapon. The earth roared stubbornly, refusing to hand over the loot it had swallowed. The Dreadlord had no choice but to jump away. Dinen gave hot chase and slashed its leg with a sword. Like the previous one, the steel only made a small cut, but the wound was instantly charred and carbonized, and even after the blade was withdrawn, the elemental fire still stubbornly spread in all directions, devouring everything to keep it burning. The demon roared in pain, trying to chase him away with its claws.

Gianna misses its swinging arm with a fireball. Dineen took the opportunity to make up for the blow, cutting the wound deeper, and then jumped to the side, dodging the sheep-like hooves. The Dreadlord stepped into the air, but allowed himself to stagger a little.

Another fireball struck it in the shoulder, and Marganis jerked around and pointed his claws at the mage. Gianna flashed away without hesitation, and the water element on the side was instantly evaporated. Dineen let out a roaring laugh as he hit his target for the third time, and the elemental power sharpened his blade, allowing him to pierce the last layer of flesh and sever tendons.

The last struggle of the injured leg threw him a few meters away. The Dreadlord then spread his bat-like wings and tried to reach into the air. With a vigorous wave of her hand, Gianna spread the ice on one of Malganis' wings, causing it to lose its balance and fall back to the ground.

Marganis let out a furious scream and staggered at her. Dinen threw a punch to the ground, and the ground immediately cracked a crack and grabbed the Dreadlord's leg. At the same time, a stream of warm liquid poured out of his nose. Dinen let it go, fumbling for his sword, struggling to get up from the ground.

But he has experienced too many battles today, and even a battle-hardened veteran has reached his limit at this time. The body was no longer able to obey his will. He stood up and fell back, his eyes blackened. For a moment, he was just staring blankly ahead, his mind blank, in a kind of lucid vertigo. That is until Gianna let out a scream that Malganis countered her spell and restrained her in place.

Dineen gasped heavily, let go of the hilt, and instead grasped the blade, lifting it over his shoulder. The sizzling electricity ran down his fingers and clung to the steel, but all that remained in his ears was the sound of blood rushing, louder and louder. When the pressure in his head reached its peak, what he held in his hand was not a sword, but a bolt of lightning.

He threw it out.

The blow struck the demon's side ribs with lightning speed, and the steel exploded into thousands of pieces within the wound, splattering blood and flesh in all directions, raining down armor and most of the muscles, exposing the internal organs hanging from the skeleton. Marganis fell backwards and flew out if it weren't for his feet being caught. It howled in pain, like a thousand dying cats screaming together, though it was still faint to Dining's ears. He laughed, then choked on his own blood and coughed.

"I'm going to kill you," the Dreadlord roared, the dark green light in his eyes turning scarlet in rage. Frantically struggling to break free from the earth's grip like a dying beast, it dragged its wounded leg and limped close to Dinein, intending to tear him in half.

But a golden light knocked it back, and someone yelled at him, "You can't kill anyone, the demon has done enough evil things today."

The sound was all too familiar, so it was all the more unbelievable. Dineng endured his headache and looked to the side, but the other party had already given him an answer in advance. A warm current soothed his stiff muscles, the burning sensation caused by the spell subsided, the nausea disappeared without a trace, and even the pressure of the impending explosion at his temples was relieved a lot. He smiled a rare smile under the light, more genuinely than ever.

"Ai"

"Arthas," Gianna called.