Archimonde

Archmage Antonidas struggled to keep his body upright. His weathered hands, stained with blood, trembled. He tried to speak, but the words seemed stuck in his throat.

"Your petty tricks won't stop me, Antonidas," Arthas said with the air of a victor. The old man before him, on the verge of collapse, was foolish to try and hold back the Scourge with magical barriers. "I think you've heard about Quel'Thalas. Those arrogant Elf thought their defenses were impenetrable."

Quel'Thalas.

Antonidas felt a wave of nausea. More nauseating than the blood on his own body! A small group of survivors from Quel'Thalas had escaped here and told them of Arthas's atrocities. Antonidas had never seen Kael'thas Sunstrider so enraged, broken, and brutal.

Almost on the same day, the Elf Prince left Dalaran and returned to Quel'Thalas.

The Archmage stared at the Prince in disbelief. He had failed, just like everyone else who had tried to stop Arthas. "I feel sorry for your father, Arthas."

"Thank you for your concern, but before I began the siege, you asked me if my father was alright. I can now give you a very clear answer: he... is fine." Arthas revealed a cruel smile, his hand touching Frostmourne, giving Antonidas a swift death just as he had dealt with Uther.

The Scourge acquired the Medivh's Book. It was a large book, unusually heavy for its size, covered in red leather and bound with gold thread. The cover was exquisitely decorated with a raven with outstretched wings. This book now belonged to Kel'Thuzad. The Lich had once told Arthas that nothing was more gratifying than watching Antonidas die, but as he perused the Medivh's Book, he was utterly captivated.

Invincible was being swarmed by flies, but he didn't move. They stood atop a hill overlooking Dalaran still gleamed in the sunlight, radiating a soft white and purple glow, but the streets were stained with blood. The mages who had fought him moments before now stood beside him. Most of his enemies were now shattered and had become his own.

"The magic circle has been set up as you requested, Lich. Are you ready?"

"That's enough," Kel'Thuzad replied, turning another page with his bone fingers. "Medivh's knowledge is truly astonishing. I suspect he is more powerful than anyone else."

Before Kel'Thuzad could finish speaking, a dark green vortex began to form in the air, Tichondrius stepped out. The Demon Lord's usual arrogant tone was infuriating. "Even the most powerful cannot escape death. What he couldn't do, we will accomplish... starting today. Begin the summoning!"

Having said that, it departed. Kel'Thuzad floated into the magic circle. This area was marked by four obelisks, with a dimly glowing purple ring drawn at their center. The Lich began chanting an incantation, and instantly the lines of the magic circle flashed with green flames. A deafening roar filled the sky, and flames erupted from all around him. Kel'Thuzad looked up, staring ahead, his eyes and raised hands gleaming.

Those still alive in Dalaran sensed the power of the spell, and they began to rally their remaining forces, preparing to perish together with the Scourge.

Arthas's attention was abruptly drawn back to reality, a smile playing on his lips. Many powerful mages resided in Dalaran, but there was no well-trained army there, and the Kirin Tor mages were not particularly skilled in combat. To compensate for this disadvantage, they had teleported an army over.

The Death Knight, anticipating a battle that would satiate Frostmourne, raised his Rune Sword, feeling its tremor in his hand; the souls about to enter his mouth would surely be delicious. Arthas pointed his sword at the last defenders of the magical city. The Scourge roared. His Invincible mount, also fully alert, neighed and charged forward at full speed.

Yes, he doesn't need to defend; he only needs to attack.

Frostmourne radiates light, feasting on the soul.

Wave after wave of Dalaran soldiers fell, only to be replaced by new ones. But Arthas, too, gained new allies.

The fiery boulder, trailing a green streak, slashed through the sky and plummeted down. The earth trembled as it crashed down, and then stone golem-like figures emerged from the crater it created. Like a stitched-together monster, several rocks were linked together and manipulated by some kind of malevolent green energy.

Arthas glanced back; the Lich hovered in mid-air, arms outstretched, head held high. A torrent of energy surged forth. The Lich stepped out of the magic circle.

"Show yourself, Lord Archimonde!" Kel'Thuzad cried. "Enter this world and make it submit to your power!"

A pillar of flame shot straight into the sky, triggering a series of lightning bolts that erupted from the magic circle. Then, a tall, powerful figure appeared in the center of the circle, and the surrounding sky turned dark red. Arthas turned his attention back to the battlefield. The enemy had begun to retreat; they were fleeing back to Dalaran.

"Tremble, mortals, despair! The end of the world has come!"

Arthas raised his hand, and with this simple gesture, the horde of Scourge soldiers immediately halted their pursuit. He approached Kel'Thuzad, his eyes remaining fixed on the colossal demon.

At the same time, Tichondrius returned. The Demon Lord bowed deeply.

"Lord Archimonde, everything is ready."

"Very well, Tichondrius," Archimonde replied, nodding to the demon. "Since the Lich King is of no use to me anymore, from now on, you Demon Lord will command the Scourge."

Arthas nearly lost control of himself, struggling to suppress his shock and rage. The Lich King was no longer of any use? Why? What was going on?

"I will soon order the invasion. But first, I want to warn others of the fate of this city. Today, the laughable Dalaran will become dust in history."

The demon strode away, his posture ramrod straight, arrogant and resolute, his steps firm and decisive. Doomsday was fast approaching. Tichondrius, bowing and scraping beside him, followed as closely as possible. Once they were out of sight, Arthas demanded of Kel'Thuzad, "What a joke! What are we doing now?"

"Be patient, Death Knight. The Lich King foresaw this as well. You still have a very important role to play in his grand plan. Now, we must go find Nathanos. Hopefully, he won't disappoint the Lich King."

Arthas stared at the Lich, barely suppressing his rage. He found it hard to believe that the Lich still dared to say that everything was going according to plan.

The earth trembled. Invincible was restless, as if trying to avoid touching the ground as much as possible. Arthas immediately looked towards Dalaran. The towers were at their most beautiful at this time of day, gleaming in the twilight. But just as he gazed at this beauty, a sudden explosion rang out. The spire of the tallest tower in the city collapsed abruptly, slowly and inevitably tumbling down, as if crushed by an unseen giant hand.

The rest of the city quickly collapsed and crumbled into dust. The sound of destruction echoed in Arthas's ears, and he was terrified, never looking away.

This scene unfolded so easily, with just a flick of the finger! Archimonde effortlessly destroyed humanity's most magnificent magical city, without even being present in person.

Arthas pondered Archimonde. Compared to this fellow, Frostmourne paled in comparison.