The Witch-king of Angmar's Revenge

"Did they reply?" Roland asked.

"Mm. Duke Junlin received it. He's already arranging a retreat route and notifying Beorn Territory." Yun Feng nodded.

"Something's wrong. I've got a really bad feeling about this..." Roland frowned. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that the Orcs had to be planning something.

"Probably not, right? Two of the three Nazgûl are gone. What can they even do?" Adolf Heinrich spread his hands helplessly.

"I don't think that bastard would die so easily!" Roland frowned. He knew exactly how tenacious the Nazgûl were. Besides, the fact that none of the nine had been replaced after all these years already said plenty.

"Priests aren't the only ones who can cast Resurrection Spells!" Roland said meaningfully.

"Awoo... Aah!" A miserable howl came from deep within Fortress of Gundabad. At that moment, Holmras was bound to a stone slab covered in mysterious magical runes. Strands of black mist flowed into his body, and the restrained Holmras screamed in agony as though the pain struck directly at his soul.

"Those damned vermin nearly killed him! His soul flame was almost extinguished!" Amoras snarled furiously.

"Light Power has completely permeated his soul. We can only find a way to purge that detestable light!" The Witch-king of Angmar's ethereal voice rang out nearby.

"That assassin actually had the Light Attribute! It's simply unheard of!" Amoras said, still shaken.

"Be grateful he didn't have the Holy Attribute! Otherwise, none of you would have come back!" The Witch-king of Angmar cackled. The Blade of Light had already taken half of Holmras's life; if it had been the even more terrifying Holy Power, he would likely have been purified on the spot.

"Revenge! Revenge! Awooo!" Holmras, bound to the stone slab as the Light Power was purged