The streams of light and black mist collided, stirring up the thin clouds over Argus. The clouds, polluted with fel impurities and sulfurous gases, tore open with a massive gap amidst the radiating light and energy tremors, as if a giant had ripped the firmament, causing all creatures on the surface of Argus to look up and stare.
Far from the Antoran Wastes, in another barren land, a figure tightly wrapped in tattered robes, with only his eyes visible, leaned against a stone pillar, silently observing everything happening in the sky.
The members of his tribe, who resembled Broken Draenei, also stopped and looked up at the sky. It had been over ten thousand years since they had seen that magnificent golden light in Argus. After the lamps of the Eredar's golden civilization were extinguished, the leader representing this power also disappeared, and many had already believed he had long since died at Kil'jaeden's hands.
The phantom of the Holy Light illuminated almost half of Argus; even on the Azeroth, one could glimpse the ripples of the Prophet's power. Xal'atath's pupils also contracted slightly, "Truly worthy of an old thing who has lived for who knows how long; his full power is astonishingly strong."
Velen had not abandoned his essence as an "Eredar." Unlike Kil'jaeden, who had chosen to become a demon and abandon his mortal racial identity, Velen could still call himself a mortal, though their race simply had a longer lifespan.
Xal'atath even believed that Velen was very likely the strongest "mortal" she had ever seen in her life. He had completely achieved feats that even some gods found difficult to accomplish with a mortal body, and now, facing Velen's full power was his former close friend, now his archenemy, the infamous Deceiver, Kil'jaeden.
As the commander of the Burning Legion and the master of countless demon armies, Kil'jaeden's power was even more unfathomable. Even though the Prophet's mastery of the Holy Light was already at a level most people couldn't even imagine, Kil'jaeden remained unshakeable like a dark mountain.
Kil'jaeden glanced at those who tried to attack him while enduring the erosion of dark magic, contemptuously tearing open a spatial rift spewing shadows, from which he pulled out a large number of snarling Shadowfiends. These Shadow creatures, forcibly conscripted by Kil'jaeden, became incredibly violent the moment they entered the real universe, almost instantly creating chaos within the allied forces.
Looking at the allied soldiers, entangled by the fiends and already overwhelmed, Kil'jaeden mocked, "Are these your hand-picked champions? And you, Velen, your power hasn't improved much!"
Velen, who was in a standoff with Kil'jaeden's magic, didn't care, "And what about you, Kil'jaeden, where is your Legion?"
"Hmph, my Legion is everywhere."
In response to Velen, Kil'jaeden unhesitatingly expanded the number of summons. Large numbers of fel demons and monsters crawled out of the rift, almost filling the entire battleship, and those demons within the ship's hull who could no longer contribute to the battle all became Kil'jaeden's sacrifices. Their lives and souls all became consumables in Kil'jaeden's hands. In just a few breaths, this battleship was on the verge of becoming a ghost realm devoid of life.
Aside from the allied forces still fighting on the battleship platform, the outer layer of the battleship was already covered with various terrifying monsters. Some were violent creatures from the Twisting Nether, others were twisted flesh that had Broken free from the void. Now, enslaved by Kil'jaeden, these fiends surged towards the allied soldiers.
Initially, the mages in the allied forces could still summon more reinforcements through teleportation spells, or create familiars and Elemental Creatures to assist them in battle. But as Kil'jaeden's magic gradually expanded, all spells could no longer easily take shape; even skilled battle mages would frequently fail their incantations.
Upon realizing that Kil'jaeden had almost single-handedly suppressed all spellcasters except Velen, the battle mages in the allied forces directly drew their longswords and maces. As a mage unit skilled in practical combat, they did not entirely rely on spells for fighting; they had long practiced and prepared for combat in anti-magic fields.
Velen also noticed that the pressure on the allied forces was gradually increasing, but he didn't have many options at the moment; containing Kil'jaeden already consumed all his energy.
The clash between the two sides seemed to be a simple collision of magical power, but in reality, the hidden murderous intent was far more brutal than close-quarters combat on the battlefield. If either Velen or Kil'jaeden made even a slight error in their control of power and spells, the destructive force unleashed when energy of that level found an outlet would be unimaginable.
Velen and Kil'jaeden both had to ensure that every spell cast, every chosen spell, and the position and timing of every spell cast were flawless to avoid falling behind.
But no matter what, Kil'jaeden still held the advantage. He was currently fighting the entire allied army's champions plus Velen single-handedly, and even so, he still subtly held the upper hand.
Argus was, after all, a place of desolation, and the Holy Light could do little here. Velen's power would be more or less affected, but Kil'jaeden could unleash fel and shadows as if in his element, and he was wantonly squandering the lives and souls of those demons. With this ebb and flow, Velen eventually began to fall behind.
Darkness grew wildly, so close that Velen seemed to hear the screams of the deceased vengeful spirits in his ears. The piercing wails constantly tried to provoke his weakest and most sorrowful memories, aiming to break the Prophet's spirit.
Velen possessed superb mastery of the Holy Light and a skilled and subtle application of power, but he was, after all, only a mortal, and there would eventually be a time when he was overwhelmed.
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Saurfang and Maraad both noticed this; the sweat beading on the Prophet's forehead indicated a dire situation. After each dealing with their respective opponents, they suddenly exchanged a knowing glance.
During the recent battle, Saurfang's helmet had been bitten off by a fiend, fully revealing the grizzled old orc's face to Maraad, which instantly brought back many memories for the vindicator.
A flood of memories flashed by in a blink of an eye; lost relatives and friends swept past him, and in the end, only Maraad remained.
A look of determination flashed in his eyes. Maraad emptied all his physical strength, unreservedly casting a blessing towards Saurfang.
"The Holy Light shall protect you from all evil, and the Holy Light shall grant you the power to overcome all evil."
After chanting the incantation, Maraad's blue face instantly turned pale. He couldn't even hold his weapon and his legs gave way, causing him to kneel to the ground.
Meanwhile, Saurfang's body was enveloped in a dazzling light, a light that even pierced through Kil'jaeden's dark domain, allowing him to carve a path through the fiend-infested ghost realm.
The old orc glanced at his son, who was still fighting, then at Maraad's pale face, and without hesitation, charged headlong towards Kil'jaeden.
With surging power and abundant stamina, Saurfang roared, his body leaping into the air, moving so fast that it was almost imperceptible to the naked eye. Even the greataxe in his hand ground out a dazzling red light in the air.
This greataxe, ignited by high temperatures, was like a torch in the dark night, streaking across the sky of Argus as a fleeting meteor.
"Crack!"
Saurfang's pupils constricted to pinpricks in an instant. The anticipated scene of heavily wounding Kil'jaeden did not occur. Kil'jaeden, moving with a speed Saurfang couldn't react to, swung his right hand. Sharp claws left five fel claw marks in the void, snapping the axe in Saurfang's hand in half.
The axe blade spun in the air and landed, embedding itself deeply into the metal deck. Before Saurfang could react, another claw strike came.
The Orc warrior was whipped like a top, sent flying backward, and crashed into a pile of Khorne Demons, his life unknown.
Velen glared at Kil'jaeden, his heart filled with extreme shock. He hadn't expected Kil'jaeden to still have the energy to deal with Saurfang's sudden attack. However, Velen couldn't abandon the opportunity Saurfang had bought with his life. The moment Kil'jaeden's attention was drawn away by Saurfang, the Holy Light suddenly condensed into a sharp blade. Driven by Velen's full power, the light blade sliced through Kil'jaeden's dark domain.
Kil'jaeden sensed his dark domain being shattered. He snorted coldly, joined his five fingers, and fearlessly met Velen's light blade. fel magic enveloped his palm, and Kil'jaeden condensed it into an extremely destructive energy, transforming his entire arm into a terrifying weapon.
The fel blade and the light blade collided violently, an ear-splitting screech echoing across the entire battlefield. The light sword, formed from Holy Light, was actually bent and deformed by Kil'jaeden's sheer force. The Demon commander thrust with all his might, and the fel energy, erupting anew, shattered the light sword.
Yet, the fragments of the light sword still carried immense power. Exploding Holy Light scattered in all directions, forming tiny streams of light that crashed into Kil'jaeden's body. But Kil'jaeden neither dodged nor avoided, letting these shattered lights fall upon him.
Even though the most powerful direct strike had been intercepted and shattered by Kil'jaeden, the residual power of the magic was still not to be underestimated. Kil'jaeden's body was covered in dense, black marks scorched by the light streams—scars left after his corrupted flesh was burned and purified by the Holy Light.
But that was all. The combined attack by Velen and Saurfang only left such superficial wounds on Kil'jaeden. Kil'jaeden didn't even pay much attention to his injuries. He merely glanced at Saurfang, who had flown off to who-knows-where, then turned to Velen and said, "You're old."
Before he could finish speaking, the Prophet suddenly gasped for breath, almost unable to support his own body. If not for the staff in his hand, he might have already fallen to the ground.
As Kil'jaeden said, Velen was old. Even though the Eredar had extremely long lifespans, it didn't mean their lives were infinite. Increasing age made Velen more cunning and far-sighted, but this couldn't reverse the fact that his body would grow weaker with each passing day as he aged.
Such high-intensity combat and magic usage were extremely draining on physical and mental energy. Velen also had to contend with Kil'jaeden while ensuring the safety of his soldiers, placing him at an absolute disadvantage compared to Kil'jaeden, who unhesitatingly transformed the burdens on his warship into part of his strength.
The hope of victory was so slim, which was why Saurfang made his desperate strike, attempting to end Kil'jaeden.
However, from the outcome, it seemed Kil'jaeden had won.
The Khorne Demons summoned by Kil'jaeden blocked the path of the Draenei Vindicators and Orc warriors. He slowly walked up to Velen, his palm already burning with fel flames. Now, with just a gentle push of his hand, he could burn Velen in front of him to ashes.
But Kil'jaeden didn't do so immediately. He watched Velen pant for a while in silence before asking, "So, Velen, is this your plan? To come before me and die? But in the end, you can only bow before my power—the power you once disdained!"
Velen didn't reply, only lowered his head in silence. Kil'jaeden, however, still sneered, "Then if that's the case, I will destroy your body and make your soul watch as I burn your ships and troops to ashes. Your attack is laughable to the Legion, and that world will surely fall."
"You... have never won, Kil'jaeden." Velen raised his head, his eyes full of weariness and pity. "From the day Sargeras arrived, the Kil'jaeden I knew died. You are merely a ghoul born from his corpse."
Kil'jaeden was noncommittal. He reached out a hand, gripped Velen's neck, and lifted him up. "Say whatever you want, Prophet. When I rip your soul from your body, perhaps you will submit like your son—hehe, I gave Rakeesh his name. What do you think, a good name, isn't it?"
To Kil'jaeden's surprise, Velen wasn't filled with rage at the mention of Rakeesh, which left Kil'jaeden somewhat disappointed. He had thought Velen would lose his composure over Rakeesh, but it seemed he had underestimated his old friend.
Nevertheless, with things having come to this, Kil'jaeden no longer intended to spare Velen. Flames ignited in his hand, intending to completely incinerate the Prophet's body.
But the moment the fel flames ignited, Velen's face showed no trace of pain. This was, of course, because though he was weary, he still had enough strength to channel the Holy Light to protect himself. But what was the point of doing so?
It would only take a short while for Kil'jaeden's fel flames to burn away this fragile Holy Light. After that, Velen would be unable to resist any longer.
Victory seemed within Kil'jaeden's grasp. As long as he killed Velen and dealt with that spaceship, Argus could easily hold out until the Legion's main army returned. At that point, Azeroth would be powerless to resist.
But a certain shadow always lingered in Kil'jaeden's heart, as if he could at any moment... *Pfft!*
The sound of flesh being torn by a sharp blade first reached Kil'jaeden's ears, followed by a searing pain that made his entire body tense. Velen, mustering his last ounce of strength, detonated the Holy Light's energy at close range the instant Kil'jaeden froze from the pain.
The violent impact caused Velen to break free from Kil'jaeden's grasp. His body crashed to the ground, making Velen feel as if all his old bones were about to fall apart.
But after getting up from the ground, Velen's face bore a smile. The fellow who had been hiding in the shadows for so long had finally decided to make his move. When he had first sensed the other's presence, he had thought it was an illusion.
Kil'jaeden was currently seething with rage over his injuries. Without him ever noticing, someone had silently infiltrated his domain and even ambushed him.
"Who is it?!"
Kil'jaeden suddenly turned around and saw the huge bat wings floating in the sky, the crescent twin blades also burning with scorching fel energy, and the playful smile on the other's face.
"Deceiver, it's time we settled our score!"
Illidan's appearance didn't just inflict two bone-deep wounds on Kil'jaeden; the fierce winds from his flapping wings even dispersed parts of Kil'jaeden's domain, clearing the chaotic darkness from the battleship.
After losing their environment, the Khorne Demons summoned by Kil'jaeden suffered a significant drop in both their fighting will and strength.
Exposed to the real universe, their power rapidly decayed, and the Alliance heroes, who had been at a disadvantage, instantly regained the upper hand.
The situation was no longer tilting in Kil'jaeden's favor as he had initially anticipated; on the contrary, Kil'jaeden realized that he had now become the passive party.
Moreover, with Illidan's support, Velen was no longer in a precarious situation, isolated and struggling; he had a precious opportunity to catch his breath, and his physical and mental exhaustion, which had been pushed to their limits, also had a chance to recover.
Realizing the situation was somewhat unfavorable, Kil'jaeden immediately attacked Illidan.
Despite his disdain and contempt for this fly-like Demon Hunter, he had indeed brought him a considerable amount of trouble and difficulty.
Illidan, however, was not eager to clash head-on with Kil'jaeden.
He, of course, knew there was a clear disparity between his power and Kil'jaeden's, and defeating this leader of the Burning Legion was something he couldn't achieve alone.
Therefore, during his initial sneak attack, Illidan's focus was on Kil'jaeden's legs and wings.
His goal was to reduce Kil'jaeden's mobility and then, relying on his agility advantage, maneuver around Kil'jaeden.
Years of accumulated combat experience had made Illidan perhaps the person on this ship who understood the demon race the most.
At this moment, he also displayed strength fully befitting the title of 'Demon Hunter.'
Kil'jaeden's deadly spells were either countered by him or dodged with his agile movements.
As for direct spells that were impossible to evade, Illidan endured them with his powerful physique.
Having consumed fel energy, his body had long since become more akin to a demon's than a mortal's, and magic that would be fatal to mortals had little to no effect on Illidan.
The Azzinoth Warglaives in his hands flew up and down, dancing like a green butterfly amidst the hellfire released by Kil'jaeden's power.
His combat stance was as furious as a demon's, yet it retained the grace of a dance.
The unique warglaive techniques of the Night Elves had long been perfected by Illidan, and the comprehensive enhancement provided by his demon body made him thrive in the environment of Argus.
Even Kil'jaeden was momentarily at a loss on how to deal with him.
Moreover, when Illidan fought, he wouldn't be as quiet as Velen.
"What? Is that all you've got? The pressure you're putting on me is nowhere near as much as Arthas did.
Have tens of thousands of years been lived in vain?"
"These insignificant spells are the extent of your arrogance? Haha! Sargeras treats you like dogs, and this is all the 'gift' he gave you?"
"If I were you, I'd jump off this battleship right now and smash myself to death!"
Facing Illidan's constant trash talk, though Kil'jaeden didn't particularly care about the content, he was annoyed and disgusted by the incessant Illidan.
However, at present, he truly couldn't deal with this bouncing fly in front of him in a short time, so no matter how uncomfortable, Kil'jaeden could only grit his teeth and bear it.
Just as Illidan and Kil'jaeden clashed once more, and Illidan retreated to the side using the impact of Kil'jaeden's magic, Illidan used the chaotic energy to conceal his movements, tossing something to Velen, who happened to be behind him.
Velen looked at the magic pouch that fell before him, stunned for a moment, and after realizing Kil'jaeden hadn't noticed, he quickly picked it up.
As soon as he opened it, a pre-recorded message popped out; it was Illidan's voice.
"Old Prophet, you should know how to use these things.
If there's anything you can use against Kil'jaeden, hurry up.
I'm not sure how much longer I can last after throwing you this pouch."
After saying this, the power Illidan had left on the magic pouch vanished without a trace.
Velen looked inside the pouch and gasped—it was filled with artifacts from the golden age of the Eredar, some of which were ancient holy relics Velen himself had never even used.
Distant memories told Velen that most of these items were stored in Eredath, with a significant portion even hidden as treasured heirlooms in the Seat of the Triumvirate and the Arcane Academy.
The fact that they had retained their magical power for so many years indicated the immense strength they contained.
Velen didn't know how Illidan had acquired these Eredar relics.
Perhaps they should even thank Kil'jaeden and Archimonde, who, after accepting Sargeras's power, had disdained certain products and technologies of the former Eredar civilization.
Coupled with the fact that the entire Eredath was blown into the sky in a relatively intact manner, these holy relics were preserved to this day.
And now, these holy relics left behind by the Eredar civilization would once again be used for the purpose for which they were created—to protect the Eredar civilization and Argus.
Although these items were likely the last legacy of the ancient Eredar civilization, Velen did not hesitate at all at this moment.
He casually took out several scrolls of extremely ancient texture from the pouch and quickly tore them open.
In ancient times, each of these scrolls would have been priceless, let alone today.
Yet, Velen used them as if tearing open the cheapest Fireball scrolls, releasing the power contained within them in the simplest, most direct way.
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The magic, enough to turn the tide of a war, rapidly unfolded under Velen's activation, taking shape within the spells and runes etched into the scrolls.
Soon, a golden storm formed above the battleship, and a brutally powerful Super Purge swept across the entire vessel.
All fel constructs used by demons instantly ceased functioning at this moment, and most of the Khorne Demons were utterly annihilated in the light of the purge, their very flesh burned to ashes.
Had Velen not deliberately avoided the ship's power core, the power from just one scroll could have brought the battleship crashing down from the sky.
These commotions naturally alarmed Kil'jaeden.
His eyes were filled with shock, seemingly unable to comprehend why Velen, who had been nearly exhausted just moments ago, suddenly possessed such immense power.
It wasn't until he saw the remnants of the scroll that he understood what had happened—Illidan had actually dug out those old antiques buried in the Eredath ruins, which he had considered useless?!
But at this point, it was impossible for Kil'jaeden to stop Velen.
Velen skillfully activated the remaining scrolls and crystals.
A perfect Arcane shield enveloped the entire Alliance, and even Kil'jaeden's magic struggled to shake these ancient relic-created barriers in a short time.
As the scrolls were activated one after another, Legion-level healing magic instantly healed the Alliance's injuries, and the overflowing Holy Light energy formed a sturdy shield, enveloping the Alliance heroes, making it difficult for even the Khorne Demons' claws to inflict any harm.
Velen then took out a magnificent crystal-crafted battle-axe from the pouch and propelled it with magic to where Saurfang had fallen earlier.
With a flash of golden light, Saurfang roared, gripping the axe handle tightly.
With a single strike, he bisected all the Khorne Demons before him.
The Orc warrior didn't even wipe the blood from his face, and with his plate armor swaying precariously, he charged fiercely towards Kil'jaeden once more.
Kil'jaeden wanted to repeat his old trick, but now Saurfang clearly saw Kil'jaeden's movements.
He calmly shifted his stance, narrowly avoiding Kil'jaeden's claws with a slight deviation, and the battle-axe in his hand, like a bolt of lightning, swiftly plunged into Kil'jaeden's chest and abdomen.