In the bitter cold wind, the warriors of the Alliance and the Horde fought side by side.

Ronin wields his staff and transforms into a melee mage. Every blow carries the fury of fire. Fireballs continued to shoot out from the crystal ball, burning the undead soldiers around them one by one. A ghoul roared into the air and pounced on it, Luo Ning held it out, and a high-speed flying fireball burst out, directly blowing up the ghoul in mid-air. Rotting flesh fell from mid-air in flames.

Winlessa used her bow and sword together, and she shot an arrow through the onrushing undead soldiers, then swung her bow at another approaching skeleton, knocking it to the ground. Then, before more ghouls could pounce, Windranger withdrew his longbow, drew the phoenix sword at his waist, and jumped to the head of the nearest ghoul, slashing the ghoul's throat with a single sword.

Her flexible body jumped, tumbled, glided, dodged, dodged the undead warrior's swords, she spun, the blade unsheathed, the blood of the enemy splashed in front of her, like a sword dancer in the wind, Wen Lesa appeared behind the clumsy undead soldier again, the two swords staggered, wiping the throat of the undead soldier.

Humans are shouting, orcs are roaring, and in the face of endless wind, snow and bitter cold, the Azeroth coalition has finally opened the first gate of the Icecrown Fortress.

However, just as the people were about to celebrate this hard-won victory, what appeared in front of everyone was more tall and deep Icecrown Fortress Main City. Between the outer walls and the main building, there is a large frozen place of dead silence. Here, there are more undead soldiers and death knights.

Gargoyles screamed and hovered over the castle, guarding the last line of defense.

"Today, it will be a bright day, and today, we will surely regain the lost glory! Today, free will will resound over the Icecrown Fortress, and today, the Holy Light will shine on the earth and melt the cold of the polar regions! ”

Standing above the city gates, Varian shouted with his sword.

Immediately, the Alliance army, under the personal leadership of the King of Stormwind, rushed towards the endless tide of the undead.

The tribe also rushed forward under the leadership of Thrall. The momentum was magnificent, the earth shook, and the angry Azeroth coalition army pounced on the undead troops guarding the gates of the Icecrown Fortress like an ocean tide.

This time, the world of the living crushed the world of the dead. The Horde and Alliance outnumbered even the undead armies guarding here.

However, just as the army was engaged in a fierce battle, an ancient and cold trumpet sounded through the sky. In the endless darkness of the door, a vague figure gradually walked out. With the appearance of this figure, the gargoyles in the sky let out a terrible scream, and the undead on the ground let out a terrifying roar that had never been seen before.

The cold air was coming, like the coldest cold wave in the polar regions, and the soldiers of the coalition army immediately felt a bone-chilling frost. It was like an infinite tide of darkness, instantly swallowing up the confidence and hope of the coalition soldiers. Everyone felt it—as if their blood was frozen.

That dark shadow, that figure, so small, yet so vast and powerful.

The Lord of the Dead stepped out of the back of the crowd in his frozen iron boots, and every step was filled with endless cold currents, as if the residual warmth of the earth had been sucked dry in an instant.

With an aura of death, the army of the undead made way for their king. There was almost no need to cast a spell, and in front of Arthas, everything withered, and the soldiers of the Alliance and the Horde who were close to him were robbed of their vitality in an instant, his face and body quickly decayed, and the human warriors covered their pus-filled faces, screaming in pain, and yet, like the Scythe of Souls, no one was spared in the face of death.

Fresh life is pouring into the hands of death. Frost Grief can feel the pain of the soul's wail.

An Alliance paladin endured excruciating pain, called for the light, and rushed towards the Lich King.

However, Arthas barely glanced at him, just stretched out his left hand, and the terrifying shadow energy grabbed the human paladin's throat, lifting him into the air, and with a violent tear, the blood of the paladin's whole body spurted out of his body like black juice. As he fell to the ground, his armor made a crisp sound, and his skin was gone, replaced by a shriveled corpse......

"For the Alliance!"

On the front line, more alliance soldiers endured their injuries and rushed forward. They were so close to the Lich King. However, it is such a close distance that it has become the other side that can never be reached.

I saw Arthas stretch out one hand to the sky, and the powerful shadow energy converged in the center of his palm with a strength visible to the naked eye. Almost instantly, a terrifying ball of darkness hovered in Arthas's hand. The power of the shadows was so powerful that the dozens of Alliance warriors surrounding Arthas were suddenly strangled by the terrifying power of the shadows, and in the midst of the wails, the faces of the warriors twisted, their souls were torn apart, and they fled from their bodies. One by one, they knelt less than five meters away from the Lich King, their armor clattering to the ground, and the warriors who fell to the ground quickly turned into horrible corpses.

What's even more terrifying is that with the movement of a finger from the Lich King, the dead corpses stand up again. This time, their eyes all turned frozen blue.

"Now, I am your king."

Alsace whispered.

The 100,000 undead suddenly let out a terrifying roar.

On the majestic battlefield, Frost Sorrow begins the dance of death.

Like the grip of midwinter, the Alliance soldiers were sucked in front of them the moment they approached the Lich King, either by Arthas's broken neck or pierced by Frostmourn's sword. Their tenacious lives were all reduced to slavery to the Lich King in an instant.

Frost Sorrow, the Ancient Sword has once again satiated the souls of its enemies.

A tribal warrior was held by Arthas in the throat with one hand in the moment he rushed towards Arthas, and the strong orc struggled, however, in the face of absolute power, the brute force of the orc was still useless. Frostmourn slowly pierced into his abdomen. Frost Sorrow enjoyed the process. The process of dying, so slow, that it can feel the pain of the loss of a living life. And this pain, fascinating.

A smile tugged at Arthas's lips. Although under the heavy helmet, no one could detect the smile. It was a misshapen smile.

"Alsace, that's enough! Let's have a real duel! Salufar challenges you! ”

During the bloody slaughter, Sarufar discovered the location of the Lich King. The orc let out a deafening roar, and he ripped off his armor, holding the Glory Battle Axe in both hands, and roared and charged at the Death Lord......

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