"Tirion?"
Varian looked up, subconsciously calling out Tirion's name, but when he saw the unfamiliar yet familiar armor, he knew the person in front of him was not the Highlord.
"Ask your questions later; we don't have much time. Gul'dan has already summoned other high-ranking generals of the Legion. Now is our only chance to leave."
The Ashbringer in Arthas's hand burned with golden flames. These Demon Guards in front of him posed no threat, and even Gul'dan himself was nothing, but the location in front of Sargeras' Tomb was simply too dangerous.
Hearing that voice, Varian's expression changed repeatedly. He took two steps forward, and when he truly saw that familiar face, he was in a state of extreme doubt and confusion, even forgetting the crisis of being surrounded.
But… since there's already a second Gul'dan in this world, it shouldn't be a problem for a second Arthas to appear, right?
After convincing himself with this reasoning, Varian stood shoulder to shoulder with Arthas and asked in a deep voice, "The Alliance forces have all withdrawn. Do you have another way to leave?"
"It would be better with a mage's help, of course, but right now, we clearly have to rely on ourselves." Arthas placed his hand on Varian's shoulder, and the blessing of the Holy Light surged into Varian's body.
The fatigue and pain from continuous fighting instantly vanished, and his strength also increased. Varian moved his body, adapting to the surge in power.
"I never thought that at this moment, the person who would appear by my side would be you." The Saramaine in Varian's hand once again combined into a two-handed greatsword. Earlier, due to exhaustion and the need for agile attacks, he had split it into two swords.
"At least I saved your life, didn't I?" Arthas chuckled softly, raising the blade of the Ashbringer in his hand. "Time is short, Varian. I'll cover you. Kill as many demons as you can."
Varian raised an eyebrow. He didn't understand Arthas's request, but killing these damned demons was inherently an irresistible task.
"Don't worry about Gul'dan. His fel magic won't land on you." Arthas's gaze was fixed on the Orc Warlock hidden behind the demon Legion.
After being targeted by Arthas, even under the fel protection of Sargeras' Tomb and the cover of the demon army, Gul'dan still smelled the scent of death.
His feet involuntarily took a step back. He didn't recognize this human who had suddenly appeared, but he could clearly sense the dangerous aura Arthas was emitting—this guy was one of the strongest humans he had ever seen, even Archmage Khadgar might not be stronger than him.
Varian stomped hard, leaping into the air. With Arthas's Holy Light blessing, he felt power continuously surging within him, allowing him to unleash his killing techniques without restraint.
The Saramaine in his hand was almost a blur, and Varian's figure weaved through the demon horde, each sword strike felling a Demon Guard.
The demons' spears and greatswords were either parried or dodged by Varian, or deflected by the Holy Light shields that flashed around him. Varian was now like a nimble giant wolf charging into a flock of sheep.
However, the number of demons still held the absolute advantage. Varian's bravery did not make the cold-blooded Demon Guards retreat. They began to systematically try to surround Varian again, while other demons moved to encircle Arthas.
Arthas snorted. Although he usually fought with a warhammer, in reality, he was most skilled in swordsmanship. The combat techniques Muradin taught Arthas, combined with his own understanding and practice, had long made him the youngest weapon master among humans.
Not to mention, the Silver Hand, as well as powerful Alliance champions like Varian and Muradin from another world, had all sparred with Arthas. Arthas constantly learned from others and refined his swordsmanship to an almost divine level.
In his hands, the sword was an extension of his arm. Even wielding the Ashbringer, which was as tall as a man, did not diminish Arthas's agility in the slightest. He engaged the demons in close combat with a fighting style completely opposite to Varian's.
Varian's offense was like a ferocious wolf; he pursued absolute practicality and efficiency. This was the superb martial art Varian had honed in the arena and various life-or-death situations.
Every one of his sword strikes aimed for efficient killing. Saramaine always delivered a fatal blow, giving the demons no chance to retaliate.
Arthas's sword, like his hammer, never deviated, never wavered. When the sword fell, it was either severed by the Ashbringer's edge or incinerated into ash by the burning Holy Light.
"Seventy-two."
The Ashbringer swept across, the bursting Holy Light like erupting flames, clearing a fan-shaped area in front of Arthas.
Hundreds of Demon Guards were utterly helpless against Arthas and Varian.
"Kill these two humans!" Gul'dan slammed his staff down hard, the sharp end of the staff even piercing the rocky ground, but his violent action precisely revealed his insecurity.
The generals of the Burning Legion had not yet arrived, and he was genuinely afraid that the stranger with the Ashbringer would kill all these Demon Guards, and then kill him too.
Gul'dan knew very well that the Burning Legion was merely using him. He had to demonstrate his value; otherwise, for the Burning Legion, who had already opened the astral portal, he was just a disposable pawn.
Arthas flicked his sword, and the scattered Holy Light incinerated another demon corpse at his feet into dust. "Ninety-nine… Varian, fall back."
Varian didn't know why, but he still pushed away the demons in front of him and retreated.
Just as he felt confused, a pitch-black portal opened behind him, seemingly connected to an endless abyss. Arthas shouted to Varian, "Enter the portal, quickly!"
Despite the extremely ominous and evil aura emanating from the portal, Varian did not hesitate to step inside, because these were the words of his most trusted friend. If Arthas intended to harm him, there would have been no need to save him from the demons just now.
Once Varian had retreated, Arthas pinpointed Gul'dan's location, and six slightly ethereal light-wings suddenly appeared behind him. The light-wings flapped violently, then shattered into particles and dissipated, while Arthas almost turned into a phantom, erupting with a speed Gul'dan couldn't even perceive.
But the Orc Warlock was not unprepared. He sneered, and the fel magic he had long concealed in his right hand abruptly thrust towards Arthas's chest. However, the magic that should have easily killed a mortal was blocked by Arthas's breastplate, like water impacting rock.
A shocked Gul'dan didn't even notice the Holy Light and runes dissipating on Arthas's armor when his outstretched right hand was gripped by Arthas.
The Prince of Lordaeron calmly said, "Let you taste the flavor of being crushed to dust."
Intense burning pain radiated from his wrist, and golden Holy Light cracks rapidly spread from where Arthas gripped him. Gul'dan's defiled body and soul were instantly tormented to the brink of madness by this excruciating pain.
"What?! No!"
However, just as the Holy Light energy spread to Gul'dan's entire right arm, a thick fel ray shot out from the portal. Arthas unhesitatingly threw Gul'dan aside, opened a Holy Light shield to block the fel impact, and used the force of the impact to fly backward into the portal.
"Consider yourself lucky."