The deputy beside the female general had been turned into a pincushion by three bloodstained arrows. Her eyes narrowed, and just as she was about to strike back, a dark, immense presence that shook her to her core suddenly appeared across the sea. The general sensed something was wrong. Things were no longer so simple!
Pressing her sensual lips together, she fired three consecutive Multi-Shots, completely routing the undead that had climbed back to their feet, then turned and quickly vanished from the battlefield with her remaining troops.
Although the High Elves excelled in magic, their Ranger Corps was every bit the equal of the Sentinels on the other side of the continent. If they wanted to retreat, these undead could not stop them at all.
A few minutes later, Arthas rode a black, winged, extravagantly decorated Skeletal Warhorse leisurely across the waves and onto the island. A closer look revealed a white Path of Frost across the sea behind him, as though it had split the ocean.
"High Elves. Oh, look, I've finally found the finest archers for my army!"
Arthas looked at the Elven Rangers who had recently joined his vast army and offered a disdainful appraisal. But when he turned toward the layer of Defensive Runes shimmering with rainbow light, the King of the Death Knights' brow furrowed deeply.
"Kel'Thuzad, you can activate your 'inside agent' now! This barrier is beyond my abilities!"
"Of course... this is the power of magic! Heh heh, but... the strongest fortresses are often breached from within, aren't they?"
Arthas's expression did not change at Kel'Thuzad's gloomy voice. He glanced back at the empty waves and gripped Frostmourne. The King of the Death Knights' will swiftly reached the minds of his subordinates, who were fighting the Paladins on the battlefield of West Darrowmere.
"Marwyn!"
"Thassarian!"
"Marduk!"
"My most loyal servants, come to Quel'Thalas and meet me! I need your strength! Falric, you will take overall command. Before I return, I want to see my army covering all of West Darrowmere."
"For Your Highness!"
Four low voices rang out in Arthas's mind. He looked at the undead High Elves beside him who had emerged from their graves, then turned his gaze toward the Ghostlands. The Defensive Runes covered only Quel'Thalas; the Ghostlands had none. Moreover, if he could conquer that place, he could enter Eastweald directly from the Ghostlands.
Arthas made up his mind. After one final glance at the magnificent city of Quel'Thalas protected by the Defensive Runes, he pointed Frostmourne diagonally toward the Ghostlands. The next moment, all the undead began to move. Under their master's will, they had found a new direction for their slaughter!
Elsewhere, the female general who had been forced to withdraw from the battlefield was alone in her office, smashing everything she could find.
Ornate gilded vases, beautiful jewels, sharp weapons—she hurled everything onto the floor, leaving the Ancient room in disarray.
This was the first time since coming of age that I've been forced back on a battlefield in a head-on engagement!
Ranger-General Sylvanas Windrunner was practically going mad!
Even though she had had only forty rangers with her when she encountered the undead, even though the surprise attack had come without warning, even though she had not even brought the Windrunner War Bow she was accustomed to using, even though she had been fighting beyond the borders of Quel'Thalas.
None of those reasons could change the fact that Sylvanas had fled the battlefield in disgrace. Breathing hard, she stared at the bare wall as a voice echoed in her mind.
This was a disgrace! A disgrace to the Windrunner family!
My elder sister, Alleria Windrunner, was a Hero who led an army into Draenor World during the Second Orcish War, destroyed the Dark Portal, and saved the entire world at the cost of her own life!
My younger sister, Vereesa Windrunner, also helped the Mage Rhonin during the war, rescuing the captive ruler of the Dragon Aspects and even facing the fallen Earth-Warder, the Black Dragon King Neltharion. She was the pride of the entire Windrunner family, and even of the Quel'Thalas Rangers!
But what about me? Merely a Ranger-General! And a Ranger-General forced to retreat and flee in disgrace, at that!
Damn it! This was a disgrace! Those undead... those undead all deserved to die!
In truth, setting aside the glorious deeds of the Windrunner Sisters, Sylvanas's thinking was quite absurd. What did she mean, "a mere Ranger-General"? Quel'Thalas had only one Ranger-General. In other words, every ranger in Quel'Thalas was her subordinate. Her position was already second only to one and above everyone else.
It was only because her sisters' accomplishments were so immense that words could scarcely describe them that Sylvanas, originally the most promising member of this generation of the Windrunner family, felt a trace of embarrassment and pressure. Competitive since childhood, she had to prove that she was in no way inferior to either of her sisters!
In fact, over the next thirty years, Sylvanas did prove that. She and her kingdom occupied almost the entire Northern Frontier, making her the "ruler of the Northern Frontier" in every sense. She herself also became this world's true "Queen"-the most beautiful, most sought-after, and most revered queen.
Of course, Sylvanas did not know that yet, so she was feeling humiliated over being driven back by the undead that had suddenly appeared at the edge of Sunstrider Isle.
"Report!"
A clear voice rang out behind Sylvanas. The Ranger-General composed her expression and turned around. Her distinctly elven leather armor fully accentuated her astonishingly ample bust. Her slender waist was unarmored, not merely for appearance, but also to ensure flexibility in combat.
Formfitting leather armor also encased a pair of beautiful legs that could drive any male creature mad. She wore tall deerskin boots, and a black cloak that would not hamper her in combat hung down her back. Black leather gloves covered her hands, but they did nothing to diminish her allure. On the contrary, they lent her a touch of nobility.
Her face, however, was cold as frost. Yes, that perfect figure paired with that icy, lovely face made people afraid even to approach her at first sight, for that sharp presence, like a keen arrow, was enough to chill anyone's heart.
Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas, had another identity besides that of a beauty: she was a High Lord only one step away from becoming a Hero!
"What is it, guard?"
Sylvanas asked.
"There is a letter for you from Lady Liadrin, the High Priest!"
"Oh, bring it here!"
Sylvanas casually unfolded the letter Liadrin had sent. After a single glance, the languor on her face vanished. She shifted her posture and began reading it seriously. By the time she finished, a trace of understanding had appeared on her lovely face.
"Hmph, so they're undead from Lordaeron! And they covet Quel'Thalas's great treasure? They truly have a death wish!"
Sylvanas set the letter on the desk. Propping her head on one hand, she spread out a map of Quel'Thalas and slid her slender fingers across it.
"Sunstrider Isle has Defensive Runes too. Although they don't cover the entire island, that Arthas absolutely cannot breach them. In other words, if he continues lingering in Quel'Thalas, there's only one place he can go... the Ghostlands!"
"Whew!"
The Ranger-General rose, rolled up the map, and placed it in the leather pouch at her waist. Swaying her slender waist and shapely hips, she stood up from her chair and called loudly to the guards outside the door.
"Have the rangers at Sun Camp prepare for battle. Once I return from the Royal Palace, the entire army will head to the Ghostlands! Oh, and find that Paladin who entered the Ghostlands, Dick Tang. I want to see him in Fairbreeze Village!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
At that moment, Dick had no idea that Her Majesty the "Queen" had already set her sights on him, nor did he have time to consider such things.
Because he was fighting!
Undead!
Undead that had suddenly appeared!
Dick could guarantee that these undead had only just been raised. They were very weak. After being awakened from their long slumber, these creatures, already reduced to bare bones, could hold very little death power in their bodies, so their combat strength was poor. That was also why the Undead Scourge favored soldiers who had only just died in battle.
Warriors personally raised by Arthas or high-ranking Death Knights could even retain their own awareness, but these ancient dead received no such treatment.
Against opponents like these, Dick would not be afraid, no matter how many there were.
Mounted on his warhorse, with the Fire of Justice blazing fiercely, he plowed a clear path through the fragile ranks of the Risen with every impact. Purified ashes scattered through the air behind him. Dick's target was clear: the three black-robed Cursed Mages protected by these Risen!
Judging by their builds, these fellows should all have been recently deceased elven Mages. Their ability to raise the dead showed that they could think. In other words, they must have been killed by Arthas himself!
Damn it!
He had arrived so quickly!
Dick sent a savage Ghoul flying with a blow of his hammer, but for the first time, the elite undead personally granted an evil life by Arthas withstood the searing Holy Light. Their bodies were tough, and the magic from Frostmourne had greatly enhanced their combat strength!
The closer he got to the three Cursed Mages, the greater the pressure on Dick became.
"Get out of my way!"
Dick roared, transferred his Warhammer to his right hand, and swept his left hand forward. A flying Holy Light Flail slammed into a Cursed Mage who was caught completely off guard. The extremely dense, compressed Holy Light burned the evil creature to nothing in an instant. The surprise attack was highly effective, but the price was the terrible gouges that a madly lunging Ghoul scored across Dick's breastplate.
"Evil! Begone!"
Dick spurred his warhorse, throwing the Ghoul clinging to him onto the ground. Consecration appeared immediately afterward. Blazing Holy Light surged from the ground and, combined with the warhorse's trampling hooves, soon reduced three elite Ghouls to pulp.
At the sight, the Cursed Mages finally wanted to withdraw, but how could Dick give them that chance? The Paladin aimed his open left hand at them. Holy Light and order power began to gather. Three seconds later, a white pillar of light shot from Dick's hand, pierced straight through the Cursed Mages' protective spells, and set one of their bodies alight.
After repeated use, Dick was becoming increasingly proficient in his handling of Holy Shock.
Watching the Cursed Mage wail incessantly as the Holy Light burned him, Dick gritted his teeth and abandoned the idea of firing another Holy Shock to finish off the last Cursed Mage outright. He took the Dragon Hook from his pack, swung it over his head a few times, and threw it. Although he failed to hook the neck of the Cursed Mage staggering away, he successfully knocked him to the ground.
By the time this Necromancer climbed up, another vicious blow from the heavy hammer smashed him back down. Dick reached out and hauled up the scrawny Cursed Mage, forcing his already rotting head to face his own eyes.
Looking at the blood-red undead fire shining inside that ugly head, Dick shouted,
"Arthas, I know you can hear me! I'm here! The game has begun! I won't let you get what you want so easily! Remember that, you..."
"Bang!"
Before Dick could finish, the body of the Cursed Mage in his grasp actually exploded on its own!
Black, blood-red, and Dark Green light slammed into Dick's body in an instant. The power from Arthas struck like a brutal, unanswerable punch and sent Dick flying.
That was the King of the Death Knights' answer to a challenger.
"Pfft!"
Rubbing his aching chest, Dick climbed off the ground. That blow had truly exceeded his imagination. If he had not shielded himself with the Fire of Justice at the critical moment, that strike would have been enough to overwhelm his body before he could even summon the Holy Light to protect it.
"Get lost!"
Dick punched down a Risen in front of him. He was just about to clean his armor, which was covered in disgusting, stinking brains and blood, when he heard the hum of vibrating bowstrings. Turning around, he saw four Elven Rangers who had leaped out of the darkness drawing their bows and slaughtering the Risen that had lost their commanders.
Noticing Dick's gaze, one of the elves shouted to him,
"Human Paladin Dick, you have been conscripted by the Quel'Thalas Rangers! General Sylvanas is waiting for you in Fairbreeze Village. Hurry! Leave this place to us!"