The Frostmourne's light crisscrossed, fiercely colliding with the Crypt Lord's scythe-like claws. Despite Anub'arak's extremely hard carapace, he couldn't withstand Frostmourne's incessant hacking.
A small section of his foreleg had already broken off, and his entire body was covered in sword marks. Although these were only minor, insignificant wounds to him, Arthas, on the other hand, was completely unharmed, not even a single breath out of place, which showed who was superior.
"You are strong; perhaps you truly can defeat him."
Anub'arak praised him sincerely. He felt that perhaps today he could finally be completely free, escaping the Lich King's control and enslavement.
Arthas held Frostmourne, saying nothing, but the runes glowing on the blade already showed his intent.
"Come, Arthas, cut off my head and let my soul rest in peace."
"Are you truly willing to die like this? To die in a meaningless struggle?" Arthas suddenly asked.
Anub'arak was silent for a moment, then immediately laughed self-deprecatingly, "Heh… Even if I'm unwilling, what can I do? In the eyes of the Nerubians, I am a traitorous king; I have long since lost all honor."
"If you don't personally change the situation, then it will indeed be an eternal disgrace."
Arthas raised the runeblade and said in a deep voice, "You have a chance for revenge."
"…What's the difference from now?"
Anub'arak said nothing more, but quickly burrowed underground, seemingly beginning to flee. It looked like the Lich King didn't want his hard-found subordinate to disappear just like that.
However, how could Arthas let Anub'arak escape so easily? A large amount of death energy surged into Frostmourne, and the runeblade glowed with a blue spectral light, beginning to launch its final attack on Anub'arak.
Whether Undead or living, once wounded by the cursed blade, they would be marked with a semi-permanent brand, making it almost impossible to escape the pursuit of Frostmourne's master.
Anub'arak's digging motion abruptly stopped. His body involuntarily began to twitch and he returned to the surface.
At this point, he had only traveled a few tens of meters underground and had not yet managed to return beneath the Ironwall Dam when Arthas pulled him out of the ground.
The wounds on his body emitted the same light as Frostmourne. As the runeblade inflicted wounds on him, it had already anchored itself in his soul.
Arthas, riding Invincible, slowly approached Anub'arak. The tip of his sword rested against Anub'arak's head carapace. He could feel an anomaly deep within Anub'arak's soul.
That was the mark left by the Lich King Ner'zhul on the Scourge's important generals, used to solidify his control over the Undead.
But now, this "King," who had once thought he was in control of everything, felt waves of extreme anger emanating from his soul.
Without the slightest hesitation, Arthas extinguished the Lich King's mark, severing Ner'zhul's connection with Anub'arak.
Anub'arak felt his body lighten; the heavy sense of restraint finally disappeared. Although he was still an Undead, at least now he possessed free will.
But he didn't feel happy at all, because Arthas was clearly someone whose methods were no less formidable than the Lich King's. He felt that his fate had likely not changed at all.
"You don't seem so happy?"
The Crypt Lord, former Nerubian king, moved his limbs but made no futile attempt to escape. He replied, "Your power is identical to the Lich King's; how can I be happy?"
"Indeed, I have my purpose, and you and your subordinates are powerful assistants," Arthas stated bluntly. He had no need to deceive Anub'arak; he simply intended to make him his subordinate.
"Then what are you waiting for? I have no ability to resist now."
Anub'arak had just severed his connection with the Lich King, and his soul was still corrupted by Frostmourne. In his prime, he might have been able to escape Arthas, but now it was absolutely impossible.
"I have no interest in enslaving your every being like the Lich King. All I want is your loyalty. Moreover, you should have noticed, some of your kin… oh, former kin, have already begun to lean towards the most primitive faith."
Anub'arak was filled with confusion and surprise: Why did Arthas know such things?
"They were originally our creators; there's nothing wrong with believing in Them." Anub'arak didn't want to continue this topic.
"Then why did you stop believing in Them for tens of thousands of years—until you frantically fled and dug up Their roots again?"
Arthas's question left Anub'arak speechless. Azjol-Nerub was part of the ancient Nerubian empire, but they had long since ceased to worship their creators: the Old Gods.
Because through generations of inheritance, the intelligent and agile Nerubians realized the consequences of madness, and coupled with the Old Gods being sealed by the Titan Guardians, they hid underground and abandoned their faith in the primordial deities.
"Death means rebirth," Arthas's sword tip lowered before Anub'arak. The Crypt Lord silently gazed at the runes on the blade. "At least you can still do something for your kin, atone for your mistakes."
Its meaning was: Where there is power, there is despair.
Clearly, Arthas was currently the only one who could contend with the Lich King, and his power would bring despair to all enemies.
But unlike the Lich King's hatred and evil, as deep as an abyss, Arthas's power was so pure. Anub'arak only felt one thought from his sword tip—death.
Anub'arak's heart was engaged in a fierce struggle. Ultimately, he chose to submit to Arthas.
"Alright, I swear to serve you."
Arthas's lips curved. As soon as Anub'arak finished speaking, a rune entered his forehead. The Crypt Lord could directly hear Arthas's voice resonating in his mind.
This power was purer and more deeply rooted than the Lich King's. Anub'arak no longer had any thought of resistance, because this rune was much lighter than the Lich King's enslavement; at least Anub'arak still had his own thoughts.
"Very good, then, would you like a satisfying revenge?"
"With the greatest pleasure, Master."
With the Crypt Lord's help, Arthas quickly gained control of the large contingent of Undead troops he had brought, and among them, those fanatical cultists who had been too deeply brainwashed by the Lich King were mercilessly cut down by the Crypt Lord.
Having once been a king, he understood very well: a monarch does not need disloyal subordinates.
Those cultists were currently feigning compliance, but once they reached Icecrown Glacier, where the Lich King was, they would surely find ways to tip off their master.
Although Anub'arak was confident that at this time there were basically no powerful opponents in Icecrown Glacier, there were still massive numbers of Undead and construct creations. Though their numbers were great, they couldn't withstand the impact of the Undead horde.
"Master, we should be wary of the Icecrown Citadel garrison. My former subordinate, Anub'rekhan, is one of their commanders."
"Although a considerable number of Undead officers and high-ranking officials went with Kel'Thuzad aboard the Naxxanar (Floating City) Naxxramas to the Eastern Kingdoms, there are still formidable defensive forces within Icecrown Citadel."
Arthas tilted his head and glanced at Anub'arak, who was even taller than himself on horseback. "Are there any Dreadlords?"
"I don't know the whereabouts of Tichondrius and Banazar. Mal'Ganis should have gone to the Eastern Kingdoms, while Detheroc and Varimathras are hiding in some dark corner of Northrend and are not in Icecrown Glacier."
Arthas nodded. "Mal'Ganis is dead; his soul became a feast for Frostmourne."
"That is excellent. They are probably the greatest threat in the current Scourge."
Under Anub'arak's explanation, Arthas roughly understood the current situation of "Icecrown Citadel."
Though called Icecrown Citadel, the Undead's transformation efforts on the entire Icecrown Glacier region had only recently begun. Aside from some outer walls and fortresses being completed, the innermost main fortress was still just a prototype .
The Frozen Throne was not completely covered by saronite; most of it remained exposed outside the glacier, like a spiraling high tower.
Actually, Anub'arak didn't even need to say it. Arthas could see a large number of souls forming a violent vortex in the distant sky, even from across half the glacier. Without a doubt, that was where the Frozen Throne was located, the weakest link between the Shadowlands and the real world.
The weaker Undead, under the aura emanating from Arthas, dared not obstruct the movement of this large army. They were merely the lowest-grade cannon fodder, with incomplete self-awareness, and some were just "workers."
As for the other small forces guarding various locations, they were either annihilated by the forces led by Arthas and Anub'arak, or they were integrated into their large army.
When Arthas marched to the main peak of Icecrown Glacier, at the foot of the mountain where the Frozen Throne was located, Arthas finally saw a decent resistance force.
Large numbers of Crypt Fiends and Scourge nerubians surged from underground, led by the Crypt Lord Anub'rekhan, with many other strong individuals from the former Nerubian empire standing beside him.
Anub'arak looked at his former subjects with endless sighs. Although he was powerless to resist the Lich King's Scourge and was forced into slavery, when he stood against them again, his heart was still filled with mixed emotions.
But he had already sworn fealty to Arthas and would never return to the command of the Lich King, that cold-blooded executioner. As for his former kin, those willing to embrace the rebirth of death, he would accept them on Arthas's behalf. As for those who would not…
They could only be sent to eternal slumber.
"Master, our numbers are far fewer than theirs." Anub'arak made a buzzing sound; he always made this sound when he spoke.
But he didn't feel timid, because the Lich King had almost pulled out all the Scourge he could quickly deploy to defend the Frozen Throne, indicating that he felt threatened by Arthas.
"If we cannot achieve a quick victory, more Undead will arrive," Anub'arak emphasized, "Their numbers are endless on this continent."
"I understand, of course," Arthas estimated the numerical difference between the two sides. He had over ten thousand Undead troops, while the opponent's numbers clearly exceeded one hundred thousand and were still increasing. "How long can you hold them back for me?"
"If we use Ghouls and skeletons without regard for cost, we can hold them for about two hours."
"Who is the strongest among them?"
"Anub'rekhan, my Master. Besides the strong individuals from the Nerubian empire, the Lich King hasn't found any other suitable corpses."
Arthas gazed at the Scourge, which comprised almost all races: there were Trolls, Dwarves, Humans, orcs, Nerubian , and even Elven skeletons from tens of thousands of years ago. He even spotted the shadows of a few bone Wyrmlings.
"Can you defeat him?"
Anub'arak seemed to smile, "Master, the Nerubian empire worships strength, and I am the King; my might cannot be matched."
"Good, then. You lead the troops and hold their main force here."
Anub'arak buzzed twice, "Your will is my desire."
"Let Ner'zhul, that incompetent 'Lich King,' see what true death is."
Arthas held Frostmourne level, and his command instantly transmitted into the mind of every individual in his Legion: "Trample everything you see!"
Terrifying roars erupted. The skeletal warriors' mandibles opened, burning with blue soul fire. They raised their decayed and broken weapons and charged towards the Lich King's Legion.
"Crush them, for His Majesty." Anub'rekhan led the charge, and the moment he crashed into the sea of skeletons, he stirred up a shower of white bones.
Anub'arak could not allow the Scourge's high-ranking generals to expend their cannon fodder like this. He still hoped these skeletons and Ghouls could buy enough time, so the Crypt Lord quickly found Anub'rekhan and suppressed him with greater power.
Since the transformation of Liches was not yet mature at this time, there were no true Liches even within the Undead Scourge. The spellcasters on both sides were either specters or Nerubian priests, along with some skeletal mages, so the difference in spellcasters was not significant.
Arthas, taking advantage of the gap left by the absence of high-tier Scourge combat power, virtually crushed through the entire line of Undead cannon fodder. The bone Wyrmlings in the sky breathed fire at him, but they were just a few immature Wyrmling corpses, unable to cause Arthas much trouble.
Instead, one bone Wyrmling flew too low and was dragged down from the sky by Arthas's Death Grip, breaking one of its wings and having its skull crushed by Invincible.
With such damage, even an Undead would find it difficult to recover. This bone Wyrmling had no other option but to struggle on the pile of skeletons and corpses.
Soon, Arthas broke through the Undead Scourge's line and rushed towards the Frozen Throne. The Lich King's minions frantically tried to catch up to him, but how could the speed of Invincible be matched by ordinary Undead?
Even the remaining bone Wyrmlings were left far behind. After Arthas casually cut down a few Necromancers blocking his path, he entered the path leading up to the Frozen Throne almost unhindered.
Large numbers of souls gathered here, a considerable portion of which even the Lich King could not control. Therefore, he dared not allow a large number of his Undead troops to enter and guard the fortress, as they would lose control of the Scourge under the tidal wave of soul Impact .
That would be meaningless and would also distract him. So, after Arthas entered the Frozen Throne, he no longer encountered any scattered Undead.
The Lich King was ready to greet Arthas in his most "complete" form.