The cold wind tore at Rhonin’s red hair, and fighting spirit filled his face. The mage who had voluntarily co to the front line smiled.
Looking at the only disciple of Edmund Duke in the world, the golden-haired female knight, clad in red armor and radiating Holy Light, showed a slightly suspicious look: "Are you okay? Your colleagues are already exhausted and lying down." The female knight had rely been complaining about the incompetence of the mages, but when a volunteer truly stepped forward, she felt a little embarrassed. She knew very well that she couldn’t bla the mages.
The mage lineup on the undead side was even more terrifying. Anasterian, a Grand Lich of the Sun, led a large number of Liches of the Moon. These forr elven allies had beco the greatest threat to the living after their corruption. If the enemy had not been cautious about rushing into the city rashly, they might have been killed by the legendary paladin Saidan Dathrohan, and Strathol would have fallen in less than half a day. But now, the enemy was casting spells from a distance and pressing forward step by step, which made the defenders unable to withstand it.
They didn’t have an Antonidas-level mage, and this was their biggest problem!
Although Rhonin had courage, his biggest issue was his relatively low rank. Despite being a disciple of the legendary mage Edmund Duke, he had taken a completely different developntal path from Duke’s other disciple and ’fiancée,’ Jaina. More than a decade later, Jaina had risen from a minor mage to the Grand Mage of the Kirin Tor. However, Rhonin remained at the master level, unable to make any progress. Outsiders always secretly laughed at Duke for being "blind" and accepting a "bad student."
Only Rhonin knew what kind of path he was truly taking. Master Duke’s words would echo in his ears every ti he woke up in the middle of the night.
"Rhonin, don’t doubt it. You and Jaina are both geniuses among geniuses. But the paths you two are taking are completely different. Jaina’s strength lies in change. Using limited magic power to create the greatest change and damage is her path."
"And your path is the arcane! As the foundation of most elental magic, the arcane has never been the magic with the highest attack power, but the arcane has the best endurance. If the magic power Jaina needs to beco the Archmage of the Dawn is the sa as the Lake of Lordare, then the magic power you need is the Endless Sea. It sounds unfair to you, but when you succeed one day, you will find that you are far more powerful than Jaina could have imagined..."
No one else knew that thirteen years ago, Duke had sealed 90% of Rhonin’s magic circuits with Rhonin’s consent. He could clearly feel how exaggerated his arcane circuit was, and how overwhelming the magic power flowing within it was, but he could only use one-tenth of it. What kind of frustration and oppression was this? More than once, Rhonin wanted to tear off the seal on the circuit, and Duke had indeed told him how to remove it.
At the sa ti, there was another command. "I won’t let you hold back until you die without opening the seal. All you have to do is accumulate strength and then release it! The later you tear the seal, the stronger the power you will unleash."
"The decision is in your hands..."
"In your hands..."
"Your hands..."
"Inside..."
Back then, Duke knew that there would be a battle in Karazhan, so he had sent Rhonin away in advance. That deep blessing still echoed in Rhonin’s ears. Over the years, even without the master, the Edmund family’s support for Rhonin had consistently increased. They provided Rhonin with everything he needed, just like worshipping a peak Master Grand Magus. Even in East Valley City of Elwynn Forest, there was a super wizard tower built specifically for Rhonin. It was constructed to the standard of a Grand Magus on the surface, but in fact, it could be expanded into the Antonidas Wizard Tower at any ti. Everything made Rhonin feel that Duke was as weighty as a mountain.
Looking at the Lich, who was less than a hundred ters away from the city wall and leading the charge with the Death Knights, and feeling the hope radiating from the female paladin, when the only two remaining archmages in Lordaeron were already injured and had left the scene, Rhonin said proudly: "Colonel Abendis, I can give it a try."
Yes, the one in front of Rhonin was Bridget Abendis, the daughter of General Abendis. She had gone to the battlefield when she was only 14 years old. In the past three years, she had made countless contributions in small-scale battles to suppress the Orc rebellion. Now, at the age of 17, she had been promoted to colonel.
Bridget raised her beautiful golden eyebrows and asked, "How sure are you?"
"30%!"
"Oh?" Without another word, Bridget held up a kite-shaped shield with a white background and a red edge in her left hand, and clenched the war hamr in her right hand.
Instead, Rhonin frowned and said, "You’re going to bet 30% with ?"
"People of Dalaran! You will never understand the weight of the four words ’Strathol’ in the hearts of the people of Lordaeron. Just as we cannot understand your obsession with magic. This probability is enough for to gamble my life three tis! What’s more, you are Uncle Edmund’s disciple! Five tis is enough!" Bridget laughed.
Was that the dusk of despair? Was that the darkness where all the flags were gone? Led by a female knight who could still be called a young girl, less than a hundred soldiers of the Scarlet Crusade, together with a red-haired wizard, launched an almost desperate counterattack against the surging undead of the Scourge.
"Leave the Death Knights to !" Without any hesitation, Bridget used golden light to block the two Death Knights’ dark attacks on Rhonin.
Rhonin charged forward quickly, without even using Blink or any other acceleration spells. In his eyes, there was only the Lich with a sneer on his face, who looked like a high elf from a distance. As a voluntarily transford Lich, the forr Silvermoon Council mber Dukee had a face that was more resistant to decay than ordinary undead. The power of darkness acted as his cells, continuously activating his muscles. Apart from his pale face and the hideous skull staff in his hand, he was no different from a high elf wizard.
Looking at Rhonin who was rushing over bravely, he felt an extraordinary hatred. That was jealousy of the living! It was also a way to vent dissatisfaction with his own situation! If he could beco undead and turn the entire Quel’Thalas into a kingdom of the dead while still being able to rule his compatriots, perhaps Duke would feel much better.
Unfortunately, everything went wrong when Duke showed up. Following the king to betray their compatriots, they only received the na of traitors. The one who was most trusted by Arthas was Kel’Thuzad, who was resurrected by the Sunwell, not Anasterian, the king of Quel’Thalas during his lifeti. This made Anasterian’s position even more awkward.
Anasterian, who once could command tens of thousands of elves, could now only lead tens of thousands of undead who were transford from stupid human farrs, which made Anasterian quite unhappy.
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