Windrunner Spire was the symbol of the Windrunner family's domain. The members of the Windrunner family had not retreated to Silvermoon City, instead choosing to continue fighting the Orcs and Trolls on their own land.
At this moment, the Windrunner family was not as withered as it was in the original story. With eighteen members, the family was not small, and every one of them was an elite among the Rangers—a true wealth of talent.
Windrunner Spire was currently under siege by the Orcs. An assassin from the Burning Blade Clan had already gotten close and assassinated a High Elf commander, but he was intercepted by the sudden appearance of Samuro.
The two Blademasters were now locked in a fierce duel. Compared to the Orcs who had lost their minds to the Demon Blood, Samuro was one of the few remaining Orcs who still possessed honor and reason.
After being exiled from his clan, he had been wandering, attempting to save his people by killing some of his frenzied brethren. In his view, the Orcs had become this way largely because they had drunk the Demon Blood.
The so-called Demon Blood was merely a catalyst. Drinking it did indeed make one much stronger, but it all came at a price.
This great power was exchanged for one's life force. After drinking the Demon Blood, one's strength would increase by thirty percent, and their lifespan would be reduced by a corresponding thirty percent.
An enraged Lireesa continuously drew her bow and fired. In truth, she was not considered old among the High Elves; compared to humans, she was about the age of a mature woman.
She was the former Ranger General of Quel'Thalas, a title she had later passed on to her eldest daughter, Alleria, and her second daughter, Sylvanas. Her husband had just been assassinated, struck by a strange and evil magic, which had thrown her into a furious rage. The silver bow in her hands never stopped. It needed no arrows; each time she drew the string, magical energy would form an arrow that shot out, repelling the besieging Orcs.
"My lady, we can't hold on much longer! There are more and more Orcs. We must retreat now," the captain of the guard warriors reported urgently. The slender frames of the Elves were indeed too frail when clashing with the burly Orcs.
Moreover, the High Elves were known for their slim and aesthetic figures and looked down on muscular men. Therefore, even High Elf warriors were not particularly strong, relying mainly on magic for support.
"No! There are still civilians who haven't evacuated. We cannot retreat. Even in death, the Windrunner family will never take a single step back. Hold the line! For Quel'Thalas!" Lireesa roared furiously. The long-retired former Ranger General was still a formidable force, showing no signs of age.
The number of Orcs grew, as did the Trolls. The Orcs' goal was to eliminate the traitor Samuro, while the Trolls' goal was to kill all the long-eared Elves.
Their objectives aligned, causing the already crumbling Elven defense line to collapse in an instant.
Orc axes cut down one Elven warrior after another, a tide of them swamping the mages and priests in the rear. Lireesa had already abandoned her bow, using a short sword and shield to slay her enemies. But the enemies were becoming too numerous. She, too, was struck by axes and spears.
Her vision grew darker and darker, and she finally fell at Windrunner Spire. Before she died, she sent a magical message to Silvermoon City, attesting that the Windrunner family had died in service to their country.
When Arthas arrived with his squad, the Orcs were surrounding a heavily wounded Orc, engaging in a ritual of honorable one-on-one duels.
They intended to wear Samuro down and kill him by taking turns. As for the Trolls, they were searching for any surviving Elves to finish off. Upon seeing his arrival, they shouted in the Troll language and charged forward.
Clang! Arthas threw his shield of Holy Light and charged in himself, like a god descended to the mortal realm, his body shining with a faint golden light! It was a Paladin's unique damage reduction skill, reducing all damage taken by twenty percent for twenty seconds.
He used his longsword not to attack, but to block, taking the art of parrying to its extreme. A purely defensive strategy was typically foolish.
However, Arthas's unique counter-attack mechanic turned this foolish tactic into an unbreakable turtle shell—obnoxious and tough, it could even make the enemy's hands ache from the recoil. It was deliberately designed to frustrate the opponent.
After three attacks, he had accumulated enough Holy Light Energy to cast Holy Command of Glory and heal himself before continuing his charge. The Trolls and Orcs in his path were all hit by their own reflected attacks. The stronger the force of their blow, the more exaggerated the counter-damage. The harder they hit, the more severely they were injured.
Arthas's tactic wasn't invincible. If he fell into lava or a pool of poison, he wouldn't be able to block it and would naturally die.
Or if the force was too powerful for him to withstand, he would also die. In short, it was a strategy of taking a hit before striking back; only a true man could survive it.
"Ding! Level up. Current level: 37. Skill learned: Holy Cleanse."
"Holy Cleanse (Un-advanced): Removes all negative effects from self. Cooldown: five seconds."
Just as he leveled up, a hex landed on Arthas's head, and a bizarre power twisted him into a frog. It was a Troll Witch Doctor's voodoo magic—a hex that turned enemies into frogs!
Before his guards could react, a ray of Holy Light descended, and Arthas changed from a frog back into a human, the process as seamless as a jump cut. He felt no pain during the transformation, not even noticing anything unusual.
If not for the notification on his panel, Arthas himself wouldn't have realized it. He had used the cleanse spell to return to his original form at the first opportunity.
Leveling up not only increased his attributes but also allowed him to learn new skills. Most importantly, it reset his skill cooldowns; even skills that were on cooldown were instantly refreshed.
This little surprise wasn't overly powerful. At max level, one wouldn't care so much about cooldown resets, but rather about skill combinations.
Arthas's gaze fell upon a certain skill, and a faint, contemptuous smile touched his lips. He continued to charge forward, shouting loudly in the Orcish and Troll languages, "You are all worthless trash! Come and fight me to the death! If you don't, you're swine, born without assholes and fucked by dogs every day!"
This barrage of taunts made the Orcs and Trolls explode with rage. How could he say such vicious things? They had never heard such malicious language before and immediately charged at Arthas in a fury.
Spears were thrown from a distance in a targeted volley, attempting to kill this venomous human with their sharp points. The Witch Doctors began to cast their voodoo, preparing to turn Arthas into a frog and crush him underfoot while he was helpless.