Several dozen seconds had passed since the Holy Light strike descended from the heavens.
Yet both sides on the battlefield stood frozen in place, making no further moves for a long time.
The undead feared what had nearly happened. This sudden, terrifying Holy Light attack had inflicted devastating losses upon the Scourge. Though the Scourge now commanded hundreds of thousands of troops, the loss of tens of thousands of undead beneath that world-ending pillar of light still pained the Lich King deeply.
Since the Scourge had swept across the continent, it had won battle after battle, unstoppable wherever it went. Under the schemes of the hidden hand behind it all, Lordaeron, humanity's strongest kingdom, had teetered on collapse from the very beginning after its king's death. Uther, the strongest of the Silver Hand, along with many of its high-ranking members, had all died beneath Arthas's blade.
During the Scourge's march upon Quel'Thalas, its army had encountered no organized resistance at all. Lordaeron's lords fought separately, while its allies either lacked the ability to provide aid—such as Alterac, Stromgarde, and Kul Tiras—or had closed themselves off and were either too late or unwilling to help—such as the Wildhammer Dwarves, Quel'Thalas, and Gilneas. This gave the Lich King the opportunity to defeat them one by one. It could be said that the Scourge's total casualties since its birth did not even compare to what it had suffered just now.
More worrying still, that attack had come too suddenly. Before understanding what was happening, the Lich King feared that the enemy might strike again.
If Ye Ting had heard that thought, he would certainly have laughed to himself.
Because it was pure overthinking.
The [Holy Light Orbital Strike] Ye Ting had just summoned was not his own spell, but came from K'ara, the