"A ridiculous trick."
After Ner'zhul's vision returned to normal, he easily spotted Arthas's small movement.
The Prince held an inscribed flintlock in his hand, crafted by dwarves and personally blessed by him with the Holy Light, giving it extra lethality against all undead or demons.
However, such an attack posed almost no threat to Ner'zhul; even with Holy Light runes carved into the thorium bullet, blocking it was not difficult.
The Lich King extended a portion of his soul power, condensing it into a dense wall, but just as he thought he could easily block it, the bullet, upon contact with his soul barrier, suddenly caused the thorium casing to crack.
—That was not a blessing inscription, but an extremely unstable Holy Light bomb!
Once it encountered magic or other energy stimulation, it would explode and ignite the Holy Light energy within.
Blazing Holy Light surged forth, causing a powerful explosion of considerable force, but this still did not panic Ner'zhul; he calmly strengthened his defenses.
But at the very moment the soul barrier came into contact with the Holy Light, Arthas sprinted like lightning, his instantaneous burst cracking the ground beneath his feet.
Ner'zhul's movements froze; he had completely not expected that Arthas had still hidden a part of his strength during the previous battle!
Under the cover of the Holy Light, Arthas's warhammer swung, completely shattering Ner'zhul's protective measures; he ignored the ice shards and magic flying towards him, because a semi-circular Holy Light shield had condensed in front of him.
Ner'zhul decisively withdrew the portion of his soul controlling the Scourge; massive soul power surged towards Arthas like a mountain collapse and a tsunami, attempting to utterly annihilate him.
Beneath the Frozen Throne, Anub'rekhan, who was clashing with Anub'arak, suddenly slowed his movements, allowing the Crypt Lord's front claws to pierce his body without retaliation.
"Stop… stop… The Lich King isn't controlling me anymore!"
Anub'rekhan's body was temporarily unable to move, but he could still speak; seeing his old king about to tear him to pieces, he quickly urged Anub'arak to stop.
Anub'arak was about to continue his attack but paused when he heard Anub'rekhan's words; he didn't worry that Anub'rekhan was faking it, as the other's body was indeed motionless.
Other undead belonging to the Scourge also became chaotic after the Lich King withdrew his dominant will over them; many high-ranking undead who broke free of control either froze like Anub'rekhan or directly turned against the Lich King's loyalists nearby.
The battlefield situation instantly reversed; originally, Anub'arak's side was at a disadvantage, only able to hold back the undead army, but now the uncontrolled Scourge was in utter chaos.
Anub'rekhan desperately tried to regain control of his body, but even though the Lich King no longer directly enslaved them, due to a flaw in their souls, he still found it very difficult to move.
This was a contingency the Lich King left on his overly powerful servants to prevent them from turning against him immediately after breaking free of control.
"Did master Arthas succeed?"
Anub'arak raised his head, looking towards the top of the Frozen Throne; at that spot, a clear and massive soul fluctuation suddenly erupted, its suffocating pressure causing the soul fires of many lower-level undead to flicker precariously.
"I'm afraid not… This is the Lich King's soul fluctuation—that human might be in grave danger now." Anub'rekhan also felt the natural suppression of the Lich King's soul power; he tried to regain his freedom while speaking to Anub'arak.
They were defeated by such power when they resisted the Lich King and his minions back then.
Although the Qiraji were very powerful in both physique and magic, the disparity in soul level caused many of them to be caught off guard.
And now… the Lich King's power was clearly even stronger; even those Dreadlords might no longer be his match.
"I have to help." Anub'arak intended to help Arthas slay the Lich King.
But Anub'rekhan buzzed out a suggestion, "It's best not to go; we are all undead now, and we don't have much ability to resist the Lich King."
The Crypt Lord remained silent; Anub'rekhan was right, on the Frozen Throne, the Lich King's power surpassed their imagination.
...
At the peak of the Icecrown Glacier, as Arthas faced the tsunami-like soul pressure, he couldn't help but feel his breath stop for a moment—Ner'zhul, truly a cunning turncoat, understood how to perfectly conceal his true strength.
He even kept the Nathrezim in the dark, unaware that as Ner'zhul expanded the Scourge, his power had already slipped from their control.
But being in danger did not cause Arthas to show any panic; a faint blue glow lit up at his waist.
Accompanying the extension of that light, Frostmourne spontaneously popped out from his waist, standing before Arthas, frantically devouring the soul power unleashed by the Lich King.
"What?!"
Ner'zhul immediately realized that Arthas had intentionally made him withdraw his control over the Scourge, so that when he faced the accumulated souls, he could use Frostmourne to seize his control over the Scourge!
This not only weakened his control over the Scourge but also directly weakened Ner'zhul's power, as his own strength was enhanced through the feedback of the undead.
Ner'zhul wanted to withdraw his power, but Frostmourne was like a hungry wolf that had bitten its prey and would not let go; the runeblade's power gradually began to increase under the nourishment of the souls, engaging in a tug-of-war with Ner'zhul.
Failing to withdraw his power, Ner'zhul immediately intended to use the contingency he had left on Frostmourne to break the current situation, but when he used runes to try and make Frostmourne stop, he found that Frostmourne did not react at all.
'How could this be?'
If Ner'zhul still had a body, his expression would be extremely ugly right now—he suddenly realized that he seemed to be the one who had been schemed against.
'But… how did this human know of my existence? He seems to know everything about me… even the Scourge, intimately!'
One question after another flashed through Ner'zhul's mind; there were many things he hadn't figured out yet, but clearly, Arthas wouldn't give him that time.
Wielding his warhammer, Arthas walked to the ice that imprisoned Ner'zhul.
"Wait! Perhaps we can make a deal, concerning those demons, for example—"
Ignoring Ner'zhul's words entirely, Arthas's warhammer struck down hard on the ice, and a crack immediately appeared in the solid Shadow Ice.
Ner'zhul immediately felt a portion of his power flowing out more rapidly through that crack; Frostmourne also seemed to sense this, intensifying its plunder of Ner'zhul.
"Bang!"
The second hammer blow fell decisively; Arthas's sole purpose was to shatter this ice and utterly destroy Ner'zhul's evil soul on the Frozen Throne.
"Don't you care about the future of this world? If you kill me, you won't be able to stand against them!"
The Lich King was truly panicked; Arthas was like a stone, completely ignoring anything he said, focusing solely on delivering heavy blows.
"It's not too late to stop now; I promise I won't threaten the safety of the Eastern Kingdoms again! I can even secretly help you become the strongest being in the Eastern Kingdoms!"
Ner'zhul continuously released tempting words, trying to make Arthas stop.
Arthas paused his movements upon hearing this, causing Ner'zhul's heart to leap with joy, thinking Arthas had fallen for it; he immediately began to infuse the words with corrupting power.
But Arthas merely replied calmly: "Keep your gifts for Hell, as compensation for your kin; perhaps they will forgive you?"
Arthas's words froze Ner'zhul's thoughts; he recalled the tragic state of Draenor when it was destroyed by his arrogance, countless orcs hurled from Draenor by chaotic gravity, while those left on the ground were swallowed by the fracturing earth.
The wails of his deceased kin were one of the few nightmares in Ner'zhul's heart, and Arthas's words perfectly stirred up those painful memories.
Just as Ner'zhul was distracted, Arthas's final strike crashed down; shattered Shadow Ice crystals fell continuously, and the block of ice imprisoning the Lich King completely shattered.
As the Shadow Crystal was destroyed, the souls absorbed and digested within Ner'zhul's body began to riot; in his gradually blurring vision, he vaguely saw the serene valleys of his homeland and the perpetually hanging bright moon.
That was the homeland of the Shadowmoon Clan, Shadowmoon Valley in Draenor—Ner'zhul seemed to see his wife, his kin, living ordinary lives in this tranquil valley, following the path of shamanism.
At the brink of death, Ner'zhul, as the Lich King, also saw the illusion at the boundary of life and death.
"You…"
Only on the Frozen Throne, where the Lich King was created, could he be utterly destroyed, and this time, he was truly, permanently dead, with no chance of resurrection.
Ner'zhul's final words were left unfinished; all his regret and hatred vanished in the soul riot Arthas caused with Frostmourne; even Frostmourne didn't manage to absorb his soul, and Ner'zhul was torn apart by the soul vortex.
After realizing that Ner'zhul's soul had completely vanished, Arthas let out a long sigh: Ner'zhul, in every way, was the most dangerous enemy he had encountered so far.
But Ner'zhul was also an enemy he had to eliminate from his plan; as long as this fellow lived another day, he would be a huge threat to the Eastern Kingdoms and even to all of Azeroth.
A few clanging sounds came from the pile of ice; Arthas chiseled through the shattered ice and picked up the armor from the ground that Ner'zhul's soul had originally been attached to.
Ner'zhul's influence had vanished with his destruction, but this armor, forged from an unknown metal, was not equipment that mortals could wear.
Arthas half-crouched, picking up the helmet from the ground; a black gem was set in the center of the crown-like helmet, but when you looked closely at it, you would find its color to be between dark blue and grayish-white.
The Helm of Domination was the most important part of the Lich King's armor; this helmet was an artifact forged by Kil'jaeden by drawing power from the Shadowlands.
It could amplify the wearer's thoughts; Ner'zhul's ability to control so many undead was closely related to it.
And now, the Lich King's death would have one consequence: the undead he had enslaved and summoned to the material world would riot—this was why there had to be a Lich King.
Any uncontrolled undead would develop hatred for the living; this was the instinct of the undead, unless someone could fundamentally control their thoughts.
A masterless Scourge would only become more frenzied, and due to Ner'zhul's previous actions, the boundary between life and death in Icecrown Glacier had become a blurred concept; here, the living would die, and the dead would "live."
Holding the helmet, Arthas raised it to his face and placed this "crown" upon himself.
The moment he put on the helmet, blue "flames" burned in Arthas's eye sockets; he felt his thoughts stretch far and wide, observing the world from a peculiar perspective.
His gaze seemed to sweep down from the sky, easily taking in all things; he could even see his own act of putting on the crown.
He grasped Frostmourne as it floated towards him, swept away the shattered ice blocking the throne, sat down upon it, rested Frostmourne by his leg, and propped his head with one hand.
The moment Arthas sat down, almost all the undead received the same command: quiet down, and purge the Lich King's staunch minions.
The undead, who had been frantically fighting each other, stopped like machines, tilting their heads slightly to look at the Necromancers who were still trying to continuously drive the Ghouls—they were the Lich King's dogs.
Amidst screams, those dehumanized Necromancers were drowned in a sea of undead.
Such scenes occurred at various locations across Northrend; all the undead, whether they had voluntarily joined the Lich King or were forced to obey Ner'zhul, realized one thing: the Scourge had a new master.