Through the crowd, Dranoche. Sarufar roared and leaped into the air, with only one target in his eyes - the Lich King.

For the glory of the Horde, to prove himself, like a true orc warrior, Sarufar pounced.

He held the axe in both hands, and with all his might, his body forming a powerful arc in the air, and slashed at the Lich King with the burning fury of the orcs as he landed.

However, the orc's slashing with all his might was ridiculously naïve in the eyes of Arthas, the Lich King.

Alsace took the blow with ease.

Frostmourn knocked Sarufar into the air almost effortlessly, bleeding all over, his bones nearly split, and blood bubbles pouring out of his mouth.

The Lich King walked over slowly.

A troll hunter tries to save Sarufar, but with a flick of Arthas, the troll hunter is knocked aside like trash.

"Orc, I'm curious what makes you so stupid to challenge me."

The Lich King's heavy iron boots trampled on Sarufar's chest. His voice was thicker than the cold wind of the Northland.

The orc was trampled underfoot, and his eyes were full of rage. A low growl came from the depths of his throat, like a bloodthirsty beast, struggling.

However, the Lich King didn't give him a chance to struggle, and he didn't wait for Dranosh. Sarufar spoke, and Arthas stomped on the orc's chest. There was a sound of bones shattering, and little Sarufar's sternum was trampled to smithereens, along with the living heart.

……

"Sarufar! Your son! ”

Not far away, the tribal warriors fought against Warok. Sarufar shouted.

At this time, old Sarufar realized that his son was no longer by his side, and at the end of his sight, a blue light kept flashing. It was the fire of the dead, the fire of death, and a cold current was spreading from the center of that blue light.

Sarufar felt a palpitation.

"My son, where?!"

Sarufar asked, roaring.

"He challenged the Lich King ......"

The Troll Hunter returns.

As soon as he finished speaking, Sarufar rushed to the center of the battlefield as if he had gone mad, knowing that his son was probably dead. The Lich King, that is by no means something that mortals can fight alone, even if all the elites of the Horde and the Alliance join forces to besiege him, they may not be able to defeat him. His own son is definitely sending him to death.

He split the body of a zombie with an axe, and smashed another punch into a ghoul, and even the orcs in the way, he unceremoniously knocked away. At this moment, Sarufar has only his son in his heart,

However, it was still too late.

The Lich King laughed wildly and bent down to the dead Dranosh. Sarufar casts a spell, and dark energy is continuously injected into little Sarufar's body through Arthas's palm. Ice was repairing his shattered chest, and in a few moments, the once-hot-blooded young orc warrior was transformed into a cold-covered death knight.

His eyes glowed with blue. It was the same bone-chilling blue as the rest of the undead. The Lich King's crushed chest was repaired by a large chunk of ice, and the ice was slowly merging into his body, becoming a part of his body......

"No!"

Old Sarufar roared, but he never saw his beloved son again.

At the order of the Lich King, Pret, the great apothecary who had died unexpectedly, began to unleash the plague. Plagues of mass destruction. Once, he was successful in Deathstroke, but at that time, he didn't have the opportunity to use it, and now, the Lich King gave him this opportunity.

When the deadly poisonous mist was released, Putress could not contain the ecstasy in his heart, and he almost convulsed with excitement, but his skinless face made it impossible to detect his emotional changes.

The green gas slammed into the Alliance and the Horde of Azeroth like a mighty wave.

Directly enveloped in poison gas on the way to the charge, Sarufar lost his way and lost himself......

The deadly poison gas covered the fighters in the front row for an extremely short time, and Sarufar and the other tribal warriors felt a burst of suffocation. Poison gas is invading their bodies. And the undead are apparently unaffected, they continue to roar and kill in the green poisonous mist. Kill all who are alive.

"All retreat!"

At the rear of the battlefield, Ares made a quick decision and ordered Lordaeron's army to retreat.

Varian gave the same order almost at the same time.

The poison gas came like a sandstorm, and they had no hope, and the legions enveloped in poison gas were in disarray.

The soldiers clutched their throats and fell to the ground screaming in pain, slowly suffocating and dying in the thick of the poisonous gas. The elite soldiers of these alliances and tribes have been tested in bloody wars again and again, and they have fought against most of Azeroth, but today, here they have not escaped the tide of plagues of natural disasters and undead.

"There's no time!"

Riding his warhorse, Ares shouted as he retreated. The cloud of poison gas behind him spread rapidly, and its speed even outpaced the retreat of the soldiers.

Watching rows and rows of warriors being consumed by poison gas, Ares finally made up his mind. The spread of the plague must be stopped, otherwise the Northern Expeditionary Army will be wiped out.

Facing the direction of the rout of the legions, Ares jumped off his horse.

The Ember Bringer shines brightly......

"Ares! Get down! ”

"Damn, what was he thinking?"

Drumm and Jean shouted.

However, no matter how much they screamed, Ares stood still. In the astonished gaze of the crowd, the Great Lord raised his great sword.

"O Light, please give me courage to protect these thousands of beings, and give me the strength to overcome the ...... of endless evil."

Ares fell to his knees and prayed, and the Ember Bringer plunged deep into the frozen earth, waiting for the Holy Spirit to come......

Finally, in a prayerful prayer, the light came again. It was so dazzling, so holy, that the undead in front of it stopped their pursuit and turned their heads to avoid the glaring edge.

With the Ember Messenger as the center, a golden barrier of holy light exploded.

The light waves spread out, like a curtain of water, and the barrier of holy light grew larger and larger, protecting more and more warriors.

At this moment, even the leaders of the tribe cast admiring glances.

"Retreat!"

Thrall roared.

A large number of tribesmen also rushed to retreat.

At the same time, seeing Ares alone against the wave of the plague, the Coalition's priests joined the queue for support.

Whitemane sang hymns, and more priests prayed to keep the light barrier bigger and bigger to protect more people from the battlefield.

However, it was not only the plague and poison gas that pursued the Azeroth coalition, but also the undead soldiers. Those ghouls and zombies are now under the orders of the Lich King, chasing down the lone Alliance soldiers.

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