Silver Arena (VIII)
After everyone left, the Witherer climbed up the arena's stone wall to look for the corpse—there should be one.
"Here it is!" He saw his prey lying on the ground, an arrow piercing its skull, brains even splattering onto the flag. He searched the body carefully, but found nothing of value.
"Just an ant?" Nathanos wondered. The Lich King wouldn't send someone like that to the arena. If it was just to gather intelligence, it would be more reasonable for him to disguise himself and infiltrate the Horde and Alliance forces. In fact, this guy's fully armed appearance made it seem like he wanted to launch a surprise attack while everyone's attention was on the arena.
Since he was alone, his fighting strength... A cold wind swept from behind, Nathanos drew his Sulfuras from his waist to parry. Just a hair's breadth away, the enemy's claws were about to pierce his eyes.
"Out-of-body experience?" Nathanos exclaimed in surprise. The one who attacked him was a ghost with a completely transparent blue body. No wonder he hadn't noticed him earlier.
"You have interrupted my grand entrance."
As expected, he came to cause trouble, but unfortunately, he intercepted us before we could even make a move. Nathanos forcefully pushed the other party back and said with an apologetic look, "I'm truly sorry, but dying by my arrow is an honor. You can rest in peace now."
The ghost burst into laughter, leaving the Witherer wondering what it was laughing about. "No! I don't need that body anymore. Without a shell, I will only become stronger." It flew over, its speed almost catching Nathanos off guard.
The Witherer gritted his teeth, dodged to the side, and charged forward, swinging his sword with all his might, expecting to cleave the ghost in two. However, Sulfuras's blade merely sliced through the air; Nathanos watched as the sword passed right through the ghost's body, leaving no wound.
'What is this thing? It can attack me, but I can't hit it!'
"I told you so!" the ghost laughed at the confusion on Nathanos's face. "Your sword is ineffective against me."
The Witherer sneered, "It seems melee weapons can no longer harm you. What about dark magic then?"
This was his second transformation today, and each transformation consumed a great deal of dark energy, and he couldn't maintain this form for long. Nathanos was different from this ghost; the ghost's soul directly separated from its body, while he directly transformed his body into a soul. Ultimately, he was still a physical entity and was affected by his surroundings.
The ghost was expressionless, but its motionless floating in place clearly indicated its astonishment at Nathanos's actions. Only the upper half of the Undead still retained a human outline; its lower body and legs appeared shrouded in black mist. Black, fleshless wings extended from its back, and its eyes, amplified by this change, became even more terrifying, with red pupils framing fine lines of the same color extending from its cheeks.
"Now..." Nathanos's voice became hoarse and hollow due to this shift, "Do you still have the confidence you had just now?"
Before the ghost could react, he pounced, and despite its desperate attempts to dodge, Nathanos's hand still shattered its right chest. He finally heard the ghost's silent wail as it fell to the ground, struck by his arrow.
The battle is not over yet!
After being severely injured, the ghost did not flee back to the body. Nathanos believed that he could not return at all, and that his state transformation was irreversible.
The Witherer estimated that he could only maintain his soul for a maximum of five minutes. Within those five minutes, he needed to find a way to subdue the ghost and interrogate it to find out how many more Scourge minion were still here and what the Lich King's plans were.
The prerequisite is to catch him.
"I'll remember that. My name is Black Knight."
"You're about to die, isn't it a bit too late to introduce yourself?"
"No, the timing is perfect." The Black Knight laughed maniacally, raising a hand toward Nathanos.
The Witherer thought he was about to unleash some kind of magic in a death throes, but it wasn't magic that would cause harm. Nathanos immediately sensed something amiss; his soul's affinity for magic had tripled, meaning he could perceive and sense magic more effectively, but also indicating that if he were attacked by magic, the damage he would suffer would be tripled.
'I've been marked!' Nathanos's expression gradually turned serious; he could almost guess what the Black Knight was going to do next.
"I'm telling you my name so you can remember who killed you before you die!"
The Black Knight's ghost instantly transformed, its pale blue, transparent body twisting and stretching outwards, gradually replaced by a deep purple.
"So that's how it is. This is your trump card?"
She turned her soul into a bomb, wanting to take him down with her.
"Not a bad idea." Nathanos admitted he had underestimated the Lich King's servants. Their awareness of a suicidal attack was quite high.
The Black Knight unleashed a final, terrifying roar. If he had been exerting all his strength to control his energy just moments before, now he only needed to let go and allow the energy to surge forth...
The explosion alerted the patrolling Argent Dawn Guards. The sound came from the arena, which was now closed as the matches were over.
"You mean the sound of an explosion?" Tirion Fordring was listening to the soldier's report.
"Yes, Highlord. Many people heard it, and when we went to investigate, we found only a corpse at the scene, which looked like a Death Knight." The soldier looked puzzled; almost everyone knew that no one from Acherus had come to the Silver Arena, and Death Knight shouldn't have appeared.
Fordring nodded after hearing this, "Not all Death Knight come from Acherus."
"You mean, the Lich King?"
"Arthas will not stand idly by while we operate here. Immediately increase vigilance and patrols, and be wary of any more Scourge infiltrating."
The soldiers left with their orders, and after their footsteps had faded into the distance, Tirian said to the screen in the corner of the tent, "They're all gone."
Nathanos appeared, and he tried his best to conceal it, but Fordring could tell at a glance that he was injured, and seriously injured.
Are you alright?
"I almost lost my life," The Witherer replied bitterly. The enemy used his own soul as a bomb, and if he hadn't managed to return to his physical form at the last moment, his body would have blocked part of the impact of the explosion, and his soul might have been severely damaged.
"Anyway, thank you." Tirion patted the Witherer on the shoulder. "You stopped a terrible attack."
"This attack also reminds us that the Lich King has been watching this place all along. Even as we are speaking, he may already be thinking about the next one... Ah!" Nathanos suddenly cried out before he could finish speaking, and knelt on the ground in agony.
"Under!"
"What's wrong with you?" Tirion asked, his eyes wide. Nathanos looked as if the Paladin had attacked him, but Fordring knew he hadn't.
"It's nothing, it's nothing!" The Lord of the Forsaken slowly stood up, his expression indescribable, as if he was still struggling with pain.
That voice again!
"The arena... what's below the arena?"