Illidan's Demonic Shadow

The battle had gone on for who knew how long. Even with a paladin's cockroach-like endurance, and Alexandros Mograine being a Retribution Paladin known as a perpetual-motion machine on the battlefield, sweat had soaked the undergarments beneath his armor. His muscles ached terribly, calling upon the Holy Light within him had become difficult, and the wings of Holy Light from Avenging Wrath behind him began to flicker in and out of existence.

By now, Alexandros Mograine was relying entirely on willpower to keep Avenging Wrath from fading. Avenging Wrath was only a skill that temporarily enhanced one's strength. For an ordinary paladin, lasting more than ten-odd minutes was already impressive, yet Alexandros Mograine had maintained it for several hours.

In contrast, high-intensity combat had no effect whatsoever on Arthas the Lich King. The bodies of the dead did not tire, and Frostmourne stored an unknown number of souls that continuously supplied him with energy.

This was why Arthas had once been able to defeat Uther the Lightbringer and Illidan, though he had narrowly lost to Arthas.

"Paladin, your Holy Light cannot protect you." Arthas the Lich King had already seen Alexandros Mograine's weakness and began trying to crush the last trace of his will with words.

Another paladin might very well have been swayed by Arthas the Lich King's words, but Alexandros Mograine, who had experienced death once and his son's betrayal, possessed an exceptionally resolute will. He pretended that his faith in the Holy Light had been shattered and voluntarily withdrew the wings of Holy Light from Avenging Wrath.

Seeing the weakened Alexandros Mograine, Arthas the Lich King suspected nothing and lowered his guard. He said arrogantly, "You will become my most powerful death knight, Alexandros Mograine. You will let those fools who came knocking know that the Scourge