The Mantid Empress is extremely fertile; as long as she is alive, there is no talk of extinction. Furthermore, Pandaria still holds the spark, so it doesn't matter if the Mantid outside die out. Now that free will is secured, they can start working.
A large number of Mantid burst out of the ground and rushed toward The Legion demons; their individual strength was not great, but they excelled in sheer numbers.
One would restrain while another launched a surprise attack. Their specially evolved forearms resembled scythes. Two forearms hooked around a neck, intersecting with force, sending a ferocious head flying into the sky.
The Night Elves allied forces looked at each other, finding these bugs disgusting, yet also very formidable.
Although ordinary Mantid are not individually strong, under the enhancement of the aura, their speed and recovery capabilities are skyrocketing, compensating for their baseline deficiencies.
Boom!
Giant insects, twenty meters high and thirty meters long, drilled out from underground. Their massive size resembled a colossal tank.
Although their intelligence was low, their exoskeletons were thick and tough, and countless segmented limbs aided their movement. When they ran, the ground shook. Their heads were protected by thick armor, with only a pair of bloodthirsty eyes exposed, leaving almost no weaknesses.
Dozens of giant insects charged toward the demons, leaving countless dismembered bodies and trampled corpses in their wake.
While charging, they grabbed and devoured demon corpses. These insects grew hungry easily, relying purely on physical strength in combat, which naturally consumed immense energy.
"All forces, charge!"
Arthas stood on the dragon's back, holding frostmourne level. His appearance was indescribably imposing, giving everyone immense peace of mind, as if following him guaranteed victory.
The Chromatic Dragons led the charge, gliding across the sky, spitting streams of Dragon Breath that incinerated countless demons.
The Burning Legion, which had been so arrogant moments before, was now somewhat restrained. Though they hadn't resorted to mockery or arrogance, they were treating the situation with caution.
Watching the counterattacking allied forces, Archimonde's beard twitched with anger. He glared hatefully at the figure standing on the black dragon's back; if looks could kill, he would have sliced him into ten thousand pieces already.
Arthas was not idle either, harvesting the enemy using Void Absorption along the way. Invisible threads connected to him, and wherever he went, The Legion demons within the covered area would be pierced by a thread, having their life force and mana continuously drained.
The moment their health reached zero was the arrival of their death, turning into pure attribute points that boosted his power.
His strength continuously climbed. After giving a brief instruction, Arthas leaped into the pile of demons.
The longsword in his hand slashed down fiercely, instantly clearing the demons in the vicinity. Every demon exploded from the unbearable burst damage, dying a miserable death.
Even the demons, who had committed countless massacres, were terrified at this moment. They would rather face other allied soldiers or the Dragon Breath of the Chromatic Dragons than tangle with this bane.
"Archimonde, you defeated subordinate! Come and face your death!"
Arthas shouted loudly while slaughtering, speaking in pure Eredar.
Hearing the familiar language of his homeland, Archimonde's eyes widened. He couldn't understand why the opponent knew this language.
"Who exactly are you!"
"A sword comes from the west, a flying immortal from beyond the heavens. I am West Gate Snow Flutist!"
Arthas swaggered as he twirled his sword twice. Who doesn't harbor a dream of being a martial hero?
However, this was a fantasy world; the goal was to become a god, not a mere swordsman.
If the laws of time didn't prevent him from speaking his true name, he truly wanted to tell the opponent who he was, lest he die with lingering regrets.
Being able to resurrect is indeed remarkable, but how tragic would it be to be resurrected only to be killed again, facing an unbeatable foe repeatedly?
demons fell constantly, and allied soldiers fell constantly; both sides were fighting desperately.
The Burning Legion merely followed their instinct to destroy worlds, slaughter, and wreak havoc. The allied soldiers, however, fought desperately to defend their homes and protect their families.
The conflict between the two sides is fundamentally irreconcilable; only when one side completely falls and is annihilated will the war have a chance to stop.
"Ah! I want you dead, West Gate Snow Flutist!"
After a brief rest, Archimonde sacrificed several more demon soldiers and absorbed their energy, fully recovering from his serious injuries.
The surging battle intent boosted his confidence. His murderous state was the best time for combat, and to deal with the opponent's strange abilities, he had prepared corresponding tools.
The distance between the two sides continuously narrowed. Many demons still rushed toward Arthas in the middle, but halfway there, they turned into corpses, unable to figure out why they died.
In the span of half an hour, tens of thousands of demons had died at Arthas's hands. The two stood facing each other, neither making the first move.
Archimonde was contemplating tactics, while Arthas seized the opportunity to continue absorbing attribute points.
When he felt dizzy, he would pour the excess attribute points into the heart of darkness for storage.
There were still too many Burning Legion demons. He didn't know how vast the Twisting Nether was, nor how many demons were contained within it.
demons continuously poured out of the city, including many high-ranking demon lords. The strength of these demon lords was not weak; some could even exchange blows with Deathwing for several rounds.
Furthermore, hundred-meter-tall Fel Energy mechas were appearing in the rear. These colossal machines were the latest invention of the demon engineers, and their sheer size was enough to inspire dread.
If one of those stepped down, even a Dragon would probably be turned into meat paste!
In front of the Fel Energy mechas, the Dragons were reduced to small lizards. Heaven knew how much more the Burning Legion had yet to unleash.
"Target the mechanical giants ahead! Mage Corps, prepare to accumulate energy, Arcane Missiles initiated!"
Elisande was still giving commands. Her mana was recovering rapidly under the aura's enhancement. Although it couldn't compare to the Well of Eternity, it wasn't far off.
Fixed values guaranteed the lower limit, but the upper limit was tied to attribute values.
During this time period, she would have been hiding in the city of Suramar, preparing to use the Titan artifact eye of aman'thul to protect Suramar and isolate it from the world, thereby escaping this great catastrophe.
But prophecy told her the outcome. As a mage, she trusted her own astrology more, enjoying the sensation of seeing through the future.
As an avid divination enthusiast, since she saw that Arthas would ultimately achieve victory, she naturally needed to prepare everything in advance to make her own life more comfortable.
If Arthas grew strong enough, serving him as master and offering herself to him would not be out of the question.
It would be best to have a child with Arthas. Whether it was a boy or a girl, the connection of blood ties was often the most reliable.
Feeling his burgeoning strength, Arthas could barely suppress the smile on his lips. He could clearly feel that if he acted now, Archimonde wouldn't last ten seconds. Even though he was the second-in-command of the Burning Legion and possessed peak demigod strength, he was still no match for him.
There are also gaps between demigods, and this disparity is greater and more exaggerated than the difference between non-demigods.
As long as they live long enough, an ancient sea conch or a long-lived sea turtle can become a demigod.
However, this method of achieving godhood results mostly in a pseudo-god, a pseudo-god who cannot resurrect.
They possess combat strength, but it is limited and not abundant.
Facing an enemy whose attributes were swelling, Archimonde dared not be careless, even though he had just killed three demigods and his morale was high.
The fellow before him was a formidable enemy he had never encountered before. He had never faced an unbeatable opponent in his life, except for Sargeras, which was complete suppression.
The strength of a Titan is constant; their lower limit is their upper limit. And the lower limit of a Titan is the upper limit that many mortal races can never reach, unable to see even the taillights after a lifetime of effort.
Furthermore, Titans are virtually eternal and immortal; they can be killed, but they can also continue to resurrect.
There is no creature that cannot be killed, only methods that haven't been thought of.
He took out a crystal shard. This was a fragment of the Argus world soul, containing the power of a Titan, and it was a life-saving tool that only he and Kil'jaeden were qualified to obtain.
Argus world soul was also a Titan, but in Sargeras's eyes, it was a deformed premature baby. Although it was useless in combat, it still possessed sufficient value.
Using the world soul fragment allows one to possess the world soul's power for a short time, though this power is not meant to be contained by the body.
Given Archimonde's strength, even if he used the fragment's power, he would fall into a long period of paralysis after the duration ended, only able to wait for a slow recovery.
"Who exactly are you?"
Arthas was happy to stand there wasting time with the opponent. Void Absorption could continuously harvest the surrounding demons, and his order to Sinestra was to drive the demons over as much as possible. It didn't matter if they were crippled or disabled, as long as they weren't killed outright.
"I am the supreme spokesman of life and death. Even Sargeras, that Fallen Titan, is merely a younger brother before me—the youngest of the younger brothers, understand?"
The youngest of the younger brothers?
What the hell is that?
Given Archimonde's knowledge, he had no idea what this meme meant, nor did he know the feeling of having his hood pulled off.
"Spokesman of life and death?"
As soon as this was said, Archimonde felt a sense of awe. Saying this with strength made it true; saying it without strength would be a laughingstock.
And was there something problematic about this?
He even suspected whether Arthas had been to Argus, or if he was simply a fugitive Eredar.
But after thinking about it, he wasn't sure. After all, being a half-breed wasn't that simple, and even half-breeds would retain some characteristics, such as the fleshy tendrils on the chin.
Females did not have them, but males definitely did. Looking at the opponent, he had no fleshy tendrils and was not female, so he could confirm that he was not an Eredar.
He forcefully crushed the world soul fragment in his palm. A surging power poured in, and his body size began to swell rapidly.
His bones cracked and popped; this was the sound of them being forcibly shattered and then replenished. Anyone experiencing such pain would inevitably scream.
Archimonde remained silent, enduring the pain brought by this immense power. To become strong requires a sufficiently resilient will, and arguably, no one's will was firmer than his.
Five meters, six meters, ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters—he continued to swell rapidly.
Arthas's expression grew serious. He stopped injecting attributes into the heart of darkness and began absorbing them fully, frantically harvesting the surrounding demons.
Even with Sinestra driving them, the demons subconsciously avoided the area, preferring to be killed by Dragon claws than to go near him. It was as if Arthas were the demon and they were the victims.
After waiting for several minutes, Archimonde's size finally stabilized at over a hundred meters. This height allowed him to look down, seeing every other creature as merely a tiny black dot.
Power, abundant energy flowed through his body.
The ground could not bear the weight and began to sink, letting out a painful groan.
The anti-demon allied forces were so frightened that they retreated repeatedly. Many soldiers lost their heads while distracted and were decapitated by a Fel Guard; zoning out on the battlefield was purely suicidal behavior.
"Ant, tremble! No matter who you are, under the iron hooves of the Burning Legion, you will only become an insignificant corpse. Your world will ultimately burn; no one can stop the Burning Legion. Not you, never!"
Archimonde laughed maniacally. The energy in his hand began to accumulate, pure energy forming the Finger of Death. This unique skill could instantly annihilate any creature, leaving no soul behind, making resurrection an impossible luxury.
Boom!
Following the infusion of crimson energy, the ground remained flat, with not a single trace of energy leakage to damage the environment.
Over three thousand allied soldiers instantly exploded, flesh and blood splattering. Their visible souls vanished in terror. This was the Finger of Death!
There were no flashy special effects or wasted energy; the precise control maximized the destructive power.
Immediately, facing such a powerful enemy, the morale of the allied forces plummeted. They weren't afraid of death, only of the unknown terror.
What kind of strength was this, killing thousands of comrades and allies with a single move?
Was this what a god was?
The Chromatic Dragon Kings showed difficulty, their eyes flashing with deep apprehension. The aura emanating from Archimonde was similar to that of a Titan.
Their power came from the Titans of the Pantheon, and every bit used was one bit less. The restraint imposed by their superiors was enough to make them unable to muster any will to fight.
Alexstrasza looked at Arthas in the distance. This fellow was very important to her. She flapped her wings, preparing to fly over.
"We must help him. If that demon succeeds, the entire allied force will be destroyed, and the Dragonflights will cease to exist!"
Even facing a powerful enemy, she remained fearless. This was the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza!
Sinestra appeared before her without her realizing it, leaving no time for explanation.
"Let the allied forces retreat. The Master's fight with Archimonde will affect the entire battlefield, and we cannot intervene. Trust the Master; no one will be his opponent, and this commander of the Burning Legion is no exception!"
Just as Alexstrasza hesitated, the scene in front of her suddenly changed.
Arthas's size instantly swelled, reaching the same height as Archimonde. The Carrion Swarm he casually unleashed formed a Fel Energy storm.
Countless demons were caught in this storm, instantly shattering and being absorbed as pure attribute points.
With just one move, he instantly killed tens of thousands of demons, similarly demonstrating extraordinary strength.
Not only did this make Archimonde's smug grin gradually disappear, but his gaze shifted from arrogance to apprehension. How was it possible that the opponent also had a trump card!
How could he get so big! You're copying me!