Mograine was indeed a knight worthy of the title "Ashbringer"; his synergy with the Ashbringer was extremely high, and the divine sword unleashed waves of Holy Light storms in his hands.
The surging, tide-like offensive shattered the flesh monsters and, at the same time, greatly damaged Zakas's shell.
Although Zakas's biological tissue was even tougher than ordinary steel, with the blessing of Holy Light, it was not difficult for the Ashbringer to destroy his body.
Zakas, whose body was truly damaged, instinctively accelerated the activation process, and the speed at which the flesh constructs emerged increased by three points.
However, Jaina and Muradin on the side were not just watching idly.
Jaina's magic almost froze half of Zakas's body, and the indoor snowstorm continued to intensify, while Arcane magic, guided by Jaina, also began a relentless bombardment of Zakas's body.
The violence of magic was no less effective than Holy Light's restraint over the Void; the surging Arcane and frost tides, like a brush, erased Zakas's creations from space, and the extreme cold greatly reduced Zakas's body activity, slowing his recovery speed.
Blue ice crystals continued to spread over Zakas's body, but they could only barely seal off half of his body; the Void energy within him was still struggling desperately.
If the monsters frozen by Jaina didn't die immediately, Muradin would instantly smash them into dust with his warhammer, preventing them from breaking free and burdening Jaina.
At the same time, Muradin would occasionally chip off fully frozen parts of Zakas's body and then mercilessly smash them.
If they could keep fighting like this, they might truly destroy Zakas's physical form, but Arthas clearly felt that Zakas's dark soul was on the verge of revival.
It seemed that the crisis to his physical body made this giant beast awaken from suspended animation, even at the cost of some power, and once Zakas gained control of his body, it would be difficult for Jaina and the other two to continue their unrestrained destruction.
At that point, the situation on the field would likely reverse instantly; a K'thir who could flexibly use his power was completely different from a body without self-awareness.
Moreover, as soon as Zakas woke up, he would likely immediately contact his master, and then Arthas and the others would not be facing just one Old God's servant, but an entire army of Old Gods.
But it was not time yet; Arthas was waiting for the best moment to capture Zakas's soul with one blow; if Zakas's body wasn't weakened, he would face great resistance.
Furthermore, directly extracting a K'thir's soul would probably be as difficult as digging a part of a soul from an Old Gods, even Arthas wouldn't dare say he could achieve such a feat.
And Zakas was a servant of Yogg-Saron, possibly the most powerful Old God besides Y'Shaarj; the Guardians even specially built the Ulduar prison to supervise him.
The blade of the Ashbringer, wielded by Mograine, for the first time completely split Zakas's shell, and before his body could recover, he severely struck his flesh.
Zakas's massive body began to convulse under the searing pain caused by the Holy Light; his mountain-like body shook, causing three-tenths of the frozen state Jaina painstakingly maintained to shatter instantly.
Cracked ice layers and pus-filled carapaces fell together, smashing into pieces, and at the wounds, Void energy stimulated Zakas's flesh to rapidly grow tentacles covered in barbs.
These tentacles seemed to have a will of their own, swaying and lashing towards Arthas's side; Muradin, quick-witted, leapt forward and powerfully swung his battle-axe, severing several tentacles in mid-air.
The corrupted blood landed on Muradin's body, instantly reacting violently with the Holy Light blessing on him; the sizzling sound made Muradin immediately withdraw from the blood-contaminated area.
The tentacles were also attracted by Muradin's attention and began to besiege the dwarf; Jaina immediately shifted her firepower, helping Muradin freeze the wildly flailing tentacles.
Realizing her magic was gradually losing effectiveness, Jaina said somewhat nervously, "Arthas, I'm afraid once he wakes up, I won't be able to restrain him like this anymore."
"Don't worry, even for a K'thir, his vitality is not endless; his body reacting like this precisely shows that our attacks are meaningful—he is afraid."
Arthas gathered the power of Holy Light in his hand, maintaining the barrier to prevent the Void from truly affecting the group, while bestowing blessings upon Muradin and Mograine to reduce their pressure.
Mograine's torrential slashes finally completely shattered Zakas's head carapace; the massive biological tissue cracked under the Ashbringer's blade, and Mograine, aiming at the wound on Zakas that had been severely damaged by stromgarde, swung his sword with full force without hesitation.
At this moment, the light flame extended like a blade, precisely hitting Zakas's wound; the Holy Light slashes continuously infused by the Ashbringer and Mograine truly made Zakas feel "pain" at this moment!
The monster's eyes suddenly snapped open, staring at Mograine who was attacking him, his gaze filled with resentment and fury.
Mograine did not flinch; instead, his offensive became even more fierce.
"Boundless nightmares will devour you...Oceans of pain and fear will drown you..."
A gloomy whisper began to echo in the ears of the four; Jaina and Muradin almost simultaneously shivered, and a hint of fear arose in their hearts.
And even Mograine, who was attacking, hesitated slightly, his sword-swinging motion slowing by three points, as if such an action required questioning his own soul.
This K'thir was sufficiently provoked, forcing him to forcibly awaken from his half-prepared recovery and regain control of his body, lest he suffer more severe damage from the mortals before him.
Void power condensed around him; Zakas reawakened from thousands of years of slumber, twisting his body to stand up from the ground, his frost-covered pincers grotesquely opening with the sound of cracking ice.
The giant beast roared words that no one could understand, but when the sound entered their ears, Jaina and the others clearly understood the meaning of the words.
"Receive the death Zakas bestows upon you...Great Yogg-Saron will destroy your ridiculous civilization..."
From his open pincers, Void energy surged in, compressing and condensing at an astonishing speed in the center; he was wantonly driving his power, intending to destroy everyone before him.
The whispers seemed to be everywhere; Jaina wanted to cast spells, Mograine and Muradin wanted to continue attacking, but they found their bodies as sluggish as if coated in glue, as if their thoughts and bodies had become dislocated.
"Holy Light endures."
At this critical moment, Arthas let out a soft cry, expelling the Void energy entanglement around the three, and the three heroes immediately found that they had regained control of their bodies.
"Muradin, attack stromgarde!"
Muradin immediately understood Arthas's intention; he roared, his body expanding significantly, and swung his short-handled warhammer with all his might, sending the heavy hammer flying like a cannonball.
The Mountain King's warhammer struck the air with a violent roar, crashing violently onto the hilt of stromgarde with immense force.
The energy of the physical impact even created a visible circular shockwave in the air; stromgarde, amidst Zakas's painful wails, forcibly plunged into Zakas's brain, leaving only its hilt exposed.
stromgarde had killed countless trolls and monsters, and had been blessed by elven magic; this divine sword itself possessed a certain power to inhibit physical recovery, which was also why it could kill Zakas again.
Muradin's heavy blow instantly scattered the Void energy Zakas had condensed, and even this K'thir was knocked back a few steps, his body swaying unsteadily.
Although this blow was not enough to completely kill Zakas, who possessed terrifying regenerative abilities, it still severely wounded him, and his newly revived soul and body once again became dislocated due to the physical attack.
Jaina used a spell to instantly calm her mind, disregarding the burden on her body, and cast several spells in the blink of an eye; the storm of Arcane energy simultaneously destroyed Zakas's body and formed thick chains, reconnecting the previously broken Arcane chains in the prison cell.
The frost domain, which had been destroyed by the Void, also re-condensed, and sharp ice prisms and extreme cold once again covered Zakas's body with frost.
After doing all this, Jaina's legs also gave way, and she was about to fall to the ground.
At this moment, a solid and reliable arm supported Jaina, and Arthas smiled at her, "Well done, it's my turn now."
Mograine took a few running steps, leaped high with the aid of Holy Light, and the Ashbringer struck Zakas's wound again in mid-air, with waves of Holy Light continuously impacting Zakas.
The old wound had suffered several heavy blows in such a short time; even Zakas found it somewhat unbearable, and his body began to automatically disintegrate and necrotize for the first time, but this still failed to completely defeat this K'thir.
He staggered slowly towards Arthas and the others, while roughly destroying Jaina's restraints with his giant claws.
Just give him a little time...he would recover; he had already seen that these guys in front of him had exhausted their tricks, and if he endured the current predicament, they would be powerless to resist the mighty power of the Old Gods.
—Wait, why was that golden-haired human male holding a strangely shaped short rod in his hand?
Arthas stared coldly at Zakas, as if looking at a corpse.
Zakas thought he had enough time to recover, but what he didn't know was that the reason Arthas hadn't made a move was simply because he didn't want to alarm the Old God behind Zakas.
The damage inflicted by Mograine, Muradin, and Jaina had already reduced Zakas's bodily activity to a level even lower than suspended animation; in this state, even a K'thir's soul was very weak relative to his physical body.
Simply put, although not directly dead, the critical injuries bordering on death had caused Zakas's soul to be on the verge of separating from his body; of course, with the protection of the Old Gods, he would not die directly, but his soul and body would fall into slumber together, and after his body was repaired, his soul would be able to return to his shell again.
A part of the light of dawn was rapidly disassembled and reassembled; these metal elements instantly formed a huge revolver in Arthas's right hand.
However, the metal elements did not form the revolver's cylinder, but were replaced by a crystal that seemed to contain endless Holy Light.
Arthas gently pulled the trigger; his Holy Light and the crystal's Holy Light resonated perfectly, and a massive amount of Holy Light energy was focused, amplified, and then shot out through this prism-like crystal.
A pure golden beam of Holy Light erupted from the barrel; surrounding the cylindrical light column were countless Holy Light runes, each containing the essence and truth of Holy Light.
In this underground lair enveloped by the Void, the annoying whispers dissipated for the first time, replaced by soaring hymns.
Zakas's head was directly shattered by the Holy Light in disbelief, and stromgarde was sent flying by the impact, embedding itself in the ground beneath Zakas.
The K'thir's head was directly annihilated in the revolver's beam; this powerful Old God's servant didn't even know what happened before his life force was completely destroyed by Arthas.
And after his brain was destroyed by Arthas, his body still retained terrifying vitality; those tissues, enveloped by Void power, began to autonomously attempt to reconstruct Zakas's brain.
But without thought and soul, no matter how powerful this shell was, it was nothing more than a puppet; Frostmourne from Arthas's waist automatically flew out, bringing with it a cold glint, and accurately pierced the half of Zakas's head that had been ravaged by Holy Light.
Amidst wails and cries of pain, Zakas's soul, which should have fallen silent again, was directly sucked into Frostmourne, and such pain made him instinctively begin to wildly wave his hands and try to break free from Frostmourne's Devour.
However, all this was useless; Frostmourne had already targeted his soul, all the runes on the sword lit up, and even Zakas could not escape the immense suction.
"Save me, great Ancient—"
Before he could finish speaking, Zakas's soul was completely sucked into Frostmourne's world, where endless pain and torment awaited him, and these would grant Frostmourne even greater power.
Arthas's Holy Light also completely broke through Zakas's Void domain at this moment, severing all connections between Zakas and Yogg-Saron, which prevented the K'thir's final plea for help from being sent out, and he disappeared from this world forever.
Everything, finally, returned to peace once again.
With Zakas's demise, the K'thir's body, having lost its spiritual support, was merely at the end of its tether, rapidly disintegrating and collapsing within Arthas's Holy Light.
The flesh and blood body, which had been extremely active, was like a clay statue that had lost its moisture, falling apart at the touch of external energy.
Zakas's death quickly dissipated the heightened void influence in Tir's Tomb, completely freeing Uther and the others who had been entangled with the void abominations outside.
Dathrohan flattened a snarling void creature in front of him with his warhammer, its unknown fluids splattering everywhere, only to be immediately evaporated by the Holy Light.
"These monsters have stopped."
The Holy Light on Tirion's body gradually faded. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and his chest heaved. Although these creatures were not strong, their numbers seemed endless.
The state of the other few was not much different. Even Dathrohan, who had the best physical stamina, leaned his warhammer against the wall and sat on the ground without any regard for his image.
Only Uther, wielding the Silver Hand, seemed as if he hadn't fought at all, his condition still at its peak.
The Silver Hand and Uther's Holy Light power complemented each other, greatly enhancing Uther's sustained combat ability, and he even had surplus strength to aid his comrades.
Their nerves relaxed, for the dark fluctuations in Tir's Tomb had vanished, and they all knew that Arthas had succeeded.
"The Holy Light tremor from underground just now, it couldn't have been Prince Arthas, could it?" Gavinrad sat beside Dathrohan, recalling the intense Holy Light that erupted from underground at the last moment.
Remember in one second >
"Either him or Mograine, but I think the Prince is more likely." Dathrohan stretched his aching shoulders. He couldn't remember how many void monsters he had smashed to death. The splattering dark shadow fluids had corroded his armor, leaving it pitted.
He had always fought wielding two two-handed hammers, and although the lethality was greatly enhanced, the physical exertion also doubled.
Facing the endless tide of void beasts, Dathrohan had no choice but to choose a faster way to eliminate the enemy.
He was also getting on in years, no longer the robust self he once was. Even if his understanding of the Holy Light had deepened, it couldn't change the pressure that time brought upon him.
Paladins often possess longer-lasting combat abilities than ordinary warriors. A seventy-year-old paladin might still be hale and hearty, but that doesn't mean his physical strength can still be compared to that of a young man.
Time gives them some things, and naturally takes some away. Humans are not long-lived beings; except for mages, everyone must face the mercilessness of time.
Uther walked over to the three paladins and handed over the Silver Hand, "Fellows, take this warhammer, it might make you feel better."
Uther's full head of white hair contrasted sharply with his current abundant physical strength. The Silver Hand made him feel like he was back in his youth, able to unleash his power without restraint.
But now, this paladin preferred to rely on his martial arts and understanding of the Holy Light to fight, rather than expending energy as he did in his youth.
He no longer had so much energy to squander. Almost every human who fought to his age knew how to maximize the use of every ounce of strength.
Dathrohan looked at the Silver Hand, which radiated a soft Holy Light. This warhammer had recognized Uther as a qualified wielder during the previous battle.
The Grand Knight shook his head and chuckled, "This fellow seems to like you a lot. I won't take what someone else loves. We're just a bit tired, and we don't need to rely on the power of a divine artifact to recover."
Uther furrowed his brow, about to say that he didn't intend to use the Silver Hand as his own weapon, when he heard Arthas's voice coming from the tunnel.
"Teacher, even if Dathrohan picks up the Silver Hand, it won't restore his stamina like it does yours."
"Arthas? That shouldn't be right, the Silver Hand can even make my stamina endless." Uther was a little confused.
"The Silver Hand is the weapon of the Guardian Tir. After following Tir in countless years of campaigns, it has become an extension of Tir's will. This weapon chooses its own master, which is to say, it chose you, Teacher."
The Guardian's weapon would not be like some magical items, without "bottom line," allowing anyone to use it. The warhammer, having been with Tir day and night, was no longer just an extraordinary divine artifact; it was the continuation of Tir's spirit and will itself.
Tir had fallen, even his soul completely annihilated in the great explosion he caused in his desperate struggle, but the Silver Hand was not destroyed. It inherited its former master's will, suppressing Zakas's dark power within the tomb.
Uther picked it up, and the noble spirit and character originating from Uther's heart earned the Silver Hand's recognition. It acknowledged that Uther would be a noble person, selflessly dedicated like Tir.
Therefore, it chose Uther as its master and continuously shared its power with Uther, making his current physique far surpass his previous one.
But because it had already chosen a master, although Uther could draw upon the Silver Hand's power to enhance the effect of his Holy Light, he could not allow others to enjoy the Silver Hand's grace.
Now, Uther was the only one who could unleash the Silver Hand's full power. Even if Dathrohan picked up the weapon, he would not receive the Silver Hand's blessing.
"Such a divine artifact should not be used by me privately. I don't believe I am yet qualified to be Tir's inheritor." Uther looked at the Silver Hand in his hand and sighed.
"A good weapon is not meant to be placed in a museum as an exhibit. The Silver Hand needs a new master, an inheritor of Tir's spirit. Teacher, you are the leader of the Knights, and the Silver Hand choosing you already explains the problem."
Arthas explained, but in truth, there was one thing he hadn't mentioned to Uther yet, which was that after establishing a connection with a weapon like the Silver Hand, the divine artifact's power would continuously improve Uther's body.
As long as the Silver Hand was not destroyed, Uther would gradually step towards a new level, and once he entered this level, the constraints of human lifespan, body, and other shackles would be broken.
One Ebon Blade in the world was enough. No matter how powerful the Undead Scourge was, it was merely a reflection of the living world. The Silver Hand needed to undergo a true transformation to better step onto the stage that lay ahead.
Life and death, light and shadow should all be balanced. Any imbalance in development on either side would lead to merciless disaster.
Looking at Uther, who was lost in thought, Arthas picked up a broken tentacle, a "trophy" left by Zakas.
"We have completely eliminated the nightmare that has plagued Tirisfal for thousands of years. Centuries ago, the Guardian Tir chose to perish with the Old Gods' minions to protect our ancestors, and today, we have avenged this noble Guardian, and at the same time, deterred our enemies. Mortals are not fish to be slaughtered; we are always the Guardians who will live and die with Azeroth!"
...
The dark power entwining Tirisfal receded, and the fertile heartland of the kingdom finally had no more worries. However, while Lordaeron rejoiced, its enemies would not be happy.
The Black Dragon Prince Nefarian felt extremely agitated. His sister had been missing for a long time, and all the subordinates sent to protect her had vanished without a trace.
The Black Dragonflight had firmly established itself in the Eastern Kingdoms. The resources provided by Onyxia were actually no longer crucial, but his sister's sudden disappearance made Nefarian sense a hint of something ominous.
Although he was the king of Blackrock Spire, it did not mean that Nefarian was unaware of the outside situation. After Onyxia's disappearance, most of the Black Dragons who had been hidden among humans, dependent on her, also lost their foothold.
Moreover, Nefarian was certain that the Stormwind Kingdom must have noticed something. Onyxia's disappearance must be related to humans.
But what bothered Nefarian most was that Onyxia had not disappeared within the Stormwind Kingdom's borders, but had suddenly vanished on her way north to Lordaeron.
Compared to the Stormwind Kingdom, which was within his sphere of influence, Nefarian did not want to get involved with the northern forces represented by Lordaeron at this time.
It wasn't for any other reason, simply because the Alliance forces in the north were too strong. Even the Black Dragonflight's spies found it difficult to infiltrate.
Nefarian had once tried to influence the Alliance by planting his people within the Syndicate.
However, he had to overcome the obstacle of Ironforge and also face repeated obstructions from two troublesome organizations. In the end, the Syndicate gambit was basically a bust.
Nefarian could only withdraw the resources he had invested in the Syndicate and shift his focus back to the Stormwind Kingdom.
The entire matter of Onyxia's disappearance was peculiar. An adult dragon, and a direct bloodline of Neltharion at that, had vanished without a trace like a small pebble thrown into a lake, not even making a ripple.
Had Dalaran, Quel'Thalas, and Lordaeron all discovered Onyxia's true identity and jointly slain her?
Nefarian had great confidence in his own power, but he would not be so foolish as to completely disregard the power of mortal organizations. Dalaran and Quel'Thalas alone had the qualifications to make any adult dragon wary.
Not to mention Lordaeron, which was practically the core of the entire Alliance. Nefarian would not think his father would be bored enough to engage in meaningless activities, but even Deathwing did not dare to directly attack the Alliance, choosing instead to dismantle the Alliance through other means.
Although he ultimately failed, the valuable lesson learned was not to underestimate mortals, because even Deathwing ultimately suffered a great loss at the hands of mortals.
The arrogant dragons would not admit that they failed because of mortals, but this was enough to make Nefarian wary, so he chose to direct some of his attention to mortals.
Of course, for Nefarian, the most important thing was his "significant" experiments. He obsessively believed that his new discoveries would change all of Azeroth.
Compared to his experiments, Nefarian could be said to be indifferent to other matters. Even the disappearance of his sister Onyxia was not due to Nefarian valuing familial affection.
Onyxia's position within the Black Dragonflight was "extraordinary" because she might be the only surviving "usable" adult female Black Dragon. In other words, if the Black Dragonflight wanted to continue expanding, Onyxia's importance was naturally self-evident.
Although some dirty work could be done by Nefarian's orcs and low-level experimental constructs, the true power of the Black Dragonflight was inseparable from the Black Dragons themselves.
The situation of the Black Dragonflight, facing encirclement and pursuit from other dragons, was not optimistic. There was even a period when most dragons believed that Deathwing was the last Black Dragon in the world.
The remaining Black Dragons hid themselves throughout the world until the Orc invasion brought chaos to Azeroth, giving them a chance to breathe.
To their surprise, the tide unleashed by the orcs even affected the high and mighty Guardian Dragons. The final result was that even the Red Dragon Queen, Alexstrasza, the Life-Binder, became a prisoner.
This, of course, was not without Deathwing's machinations, but regardless, the final outcome was that, aided by the chaos brought by the orcs, the previously nomadic Black Dragonflight found a safe haven in the Burning Steppes.
Nefarian used this land as his base and began to engage in unspeakable evil deeds.
He even used his sophisticated methods to control an Orc clan, using them as proxies for the Black Dragonflight in the mortal world, to avoid being sought out by their old enemies.
According to the original plan, Onyxia's scheme would greatly weaken the Stormwind Kingdom's national strength. She would also try to replace the King of Stormwind, allowing Stormwind to fall completely into her hands.
In that case, the entire southern end of the continent would basically fall into the hands of the Black Dragonflight, and the Black Dragons, with more living space, would also be able to develop rapidly.
But Onyxia's sudden disappearance turned many unexecuted plans into bubbles. The considerable time and energy Nefarian had invested in these matters were all wasted.
He even suspected at one point that Onyxia had been captured by the other Guardian Dragons, otherwise how could she have simply vanished without even sending a distress signal.
Of course, in this world, not only the Guardian Dragons could do this, but also Nefarian's father, and some other beings.
After much deliberation, Nefarian identified the two biggest suspects in the entire affair: one was Lordaeron, located where Onyxia disappeared, and the other was the Fire Element hidden at the foot of Blackrock Mountain.
The former was suspected because Onyxia disappeared within Lordaeron's borders, but this still couldn't clear Ragnaros and his minions of suspicion, because besides the rampant Dark Iron Dwarves and their Elemental Lord, there was little other power in this world that could make a Black Dragon disappear without a trace.
Dalaran and Quel'Thalas might be able to kill Onyxia, but they definitely couldn't do it "silently."