Arthas's armor was clearly extraordinary; perhaps only Gorehowl could break through it.
Even gods, when weary, are at the mercy of others.
Facing the exhausted Lich King Arthas, Garrosh's confidence surged. He mustered his courage, stepped forward, and said slyly:
"Arthas, today we shall follow the Orcs rules and have a one-on-one duel. I, Garrosh Hellscream, stake the honor of the Orcs race on this duel to the death. Come, let us fight a fair and decisive battle."
The Orcs soldiers dispersed on command. Exhausted, Taelan nearly collapsed, barely managing to stand by sheer willpower. Yet, his expression remained unchanged, and he spoke in a commanding voice:
"A mere Orcs dares to challenge the Lich King? You will remember this lesson and pay the price for your arrogance, you fool."
Garrosh was startled; did Arthas have another trick up his sleeve?
Garrosh's eyes darted around, and he noticed sweat trickling from the gaps in Arthas's armor. He quickly understood and chuckled coldly:
"Arthas, you are finished. You dared to bluff here? Don't even think about scaring the brave Orcs. Today's duel will be recorded in history. I, Garrosh Hellscream, have single-handedly destroyed the Scourge. The Lich King has fallen at my feet. I am the Savior of Azeroth."
Garrosh gripped his Battle Axe tightly, leaped high into the air, and viciously slashed at "Arthas."
Arthas seemed to be raising Frostmourne, but he only managed to lift it half an inch before failing due to exhaustion.
Garrosh, beaming with pride, aimed at Arthas's neck, seemingly about to Execute him.
Just then, a black halo enveloped Arthas. As soon as Gorehowl came into contact with the halo, it let out a piercing roar and broke free from Garrosh's control.
Garrosh felt dizzy and disoriented. He saw six strong, transparent Gronn grabbing his limbs and head, pulling him outwards as if to tear him apart.
Gorehowl floated in the air, exuding an ominous aura. Garrosh endured the excruciating pain of his body being torn apart, constantly letting out screams of agony.
"Arthas" spoke in a majestic voice, with a hint of smugness:
"Garrosh, I've been waiting for this opportunity. A terrible Destiny awaits you, and I owe it all to Thrall; he's the one who told me the secret of Gorehowl."
Garrosh had no idea what had happened, only that Thrall had betrayed him, all thanks to Gorehowl. He hurriedly pleaded:
"Great Lich King Arthas, spare me! The Scourge and the Orcs will always be friends. Let us join hands to create a better Azeroth!"
Arthas scoffed, "Is your dignity so fragile? Too bad I must refuse you. Shatter into pieces in agony! I promise to resurrect you; you will become my most powerful general, and your men will pledge allegiance to the Scourge."
The Orcs soldiers around him were at a loss. Garrosh was caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to surrender to the Scourge or bravely die in Icecrown Citadel.
Just as Garrosh was about to fall apart, a mirror suddenly appeared on the wall, and the Orcs- like Primordial Emissary shouted urgently:
"Use blood quickly! A large amount of Orcs blood can seal away the backlash from Gorehowl."
The Orcs soldiers stared at each other in disbelief. The Primordial Emissary hurriedly cast a spell, and invisible threads coiled around the remaining Orcs soldiers. In an instant, the heads of most of the Orcs soldiers present were severed, and a large amount of blood sprayed onto Garrosh.
Garrosh immediately felt a sense of relief; Gorehowl stopped Gorehowl and returned to Garrosh's hand.
Arthas turned and glared angrily at the Primordial Emissary:
"I didn't expect you to possess such power. It seems I must reinforce the prison's defenses. I'm going to torture you severely, Kel'Thuzad. Come out and see me! Your prisoner has escaped."
Having escaped the Gorehowl of Gorehowl Garrosh knew this was no place to linger and hurriedly ordered the remaining Orcs soldiers, "Your Warchief needs cover, for the sake of Azeroth!"
The remaining hundreds of Orcs soldiers rushed towards Arthas and surrounded him.
Garrosh fled for his life at top speed, and behind him came the voice of the Primordial Emissary:
"Garrosh, don't give up. We must unite. You must remember this: Arthas is the Scourge, Scourge is Arthas. Every Scourge soldier who dies is draining Arthas's life."
Ten thousand elite Orcs marched in, but only Garrosh escaped.
Garrosh fled back to his camp in a sorry state. Although he still had an army of 190,000, the defeat he suffered made him extremely resentful, and he hated Thrall to the core.
Tirion Fordring rushed out to greet him, and was taken aback to find only Garrosh. He asked in surprise, "Is the Scourge really that powerful?"
Garrosh, covered in blood, said viciously:
"The Scourge is stronger than expected, but still limited. I've surrounded Arthas and am about to kill him. It's all that damned bastard Thrall's fault; he betrayed me."
Garrosh recounted in detail the great battle that took place within Icecrown Citadel. Tirion Fordring pondered seriously for a long while, then whispered, "Warchief, this is very likely Scourge trick. I suspect the Scourge still retains some strength; they just want to lure you into a trap."
The cunning Garrosh had anticipated this; otherwise, with Arthas the Scourge down to the last man, Garrosh would have immediately launched an attack on Icecrown Citadel.
Although Garrosh didn't want to take the risk, he could send others to their deaths. Garrosh looked at Tirion Fordring with a sinister gaze:
"Tirion Fordring, you are the leader of the Argent Crusade. I command you to launch an attack on Icecrown Citadel. I expect your Ashbringer to Execute Arthas."
Tirion Fordring had no choice but to muster five thousand soldiers and head towards the Icecrown Citadel.
On the first level of Icecrown Citadel, Tirion Fordring encountered hordes of Ghouls and Crypt Fiend, so numerous and overwhelming that it seemed as if Garrosh had never led his army there.
Five thousand soldiers fought a fierce battle, with both sides suffering losses. Tirion Fordring was unable to eliminate the Undead and had no choice but to retreat.
Back at the allied camp, Tirion Fordring said worriedly, "My scouts successfully stormed the second level, which they say is teeming with Death Knights and Abominations."
Garrosh frowned upon hearing this:
"You mean, all the Scourge soldiers I killed, even after sacrificing ten thousand elite Orcs, have resurrected? Damn it, if that's the case, when will we ever be able to wipe out the Scourge?"
Tirion Fordring pondered for a long time, "Warchief, perhaps what the Primordial Emissary said is true—that the death of every Scourge soldier is draining Arthas's life force?"
Garrosh murmured, repeating, "Arthas is the Scourge, Scourge is Arthas. Arthas said something similar. Tirion Fordring, what advice do you have?"
Tirion Fordring said gravely, "I suggest we keep sending soldiers to attack Icecrown Citadel to wear down the Scourge's manpower. Arthas won't be able to hold out for long."