Another zombie fell, its head rolling from its shoulders and landing at its own feet, where it was crushed like a watermelon. Yet two more monsters immediately pounced forward to fill the gap it had left.
Like a nimble, powerful pantheress, Sylvanas weaved back and forth among the undead with masterful agility, dodging every attack at unbelievable angles and in impossible postures. Only when she truly could not evade did she parry with the twin blades in her hands, seizing every opening to drive their edges through gaps in the enemy's armor—this was how a legendary ranger fought.
In just a few minutes, more than a hundred zombies and skeletons, as well as an abomination and three or four crypt fiends, had fallen to Sylvanas. The ranger general herself was already exhausted, but she did not stop killing. Pain and rage were both her strength. Before she fell, she would kill as many enemies as she could...
But human strength had its limits, while the Scourge's minions were endless—at least, that was how it seemed to Sylvanas.
During this unending battle, Sylvanas gradually became unable to sustain such intense combat. Her killing blows grew less decisive, her evasions increasingly sluggish, while her enemies pressed closer and closer. The stench of rot nearly made her collapse—they were simply too numerous.
Even so, Sylvanas showed no intention of giving up the fight. Even now, she could have broken out of the encirclement at any moment with her extraordinary agility. She was determined to resist to the end, just as her subordinates had before her, until they killed her completely, until...
At last, after barely dodging a battered flail swinging at her from behind and turning to cut its culprit in half at the waist, Sylvanas discovered that no one remained at her