On the battlefield in Shadowmoon Valley, seventy thousand demons had become embroiled in a chaotic melee with the prepared undead and champions of every race.
What should have been an unstoppable onslaught of destruction had now become an unbearable war of attrition.
The demons of the Burning Legion were as fierce, brutal, and terrifying as ever, but once their supposed aura of "invincibility" had been utterly shattered, they were nothing more than a mob of savage thugs.
When it came to wars of attrition, the former Undead Scourge, now the Night's Watch, feared no opponent!
An enormous Frost Wyrm glided silently over the battlefield. Wearing the Black Rose Crown, Uther coldly surveyed the interlocking battle lines across Shadowmoon Valley. Fate had led him from life into death and placed him at death's pinnacle. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see the densely packed points of light that represented the entire Night's Watch in this world.
That was his power now. Every undead creature was an extension of his will.
They were like a black torrent, sweeping away everything. Whether demons or anything else stood before them, this torrent would engulf it completely.
"What do you see, Anarell?"
Uther stood atop Bones's head, both hands resting on Death's Verdict. His black cloak snapped in the cold wind. Beside him, a child also clad in Saronite armor, with a smaller black crown on his head... well, a young man about Anduin's age, was observing this brutal battle in his own way.
Two longswords covered in freezing ice hung at his waist. That layer of frost did nothing to dull their edges, and even added more lethal frost damage. Most importantly, these twin swords, forged from the fragments of the broken runeblade Frostmourne, possessed a certain quality of Frostmourne's as well.
Blood