"You vile, corrupted abomination—" Uther's roar thundered through the devastated throne room, shaking dust from the crumbling rafters.
Around them, the war between light and darkness had erupted in apocalyptic fury.
The blazing golden radiance of the Paladin.
The consuming shadow-fire of the Death Knight.
Two forces locked in eternal hatred!
Every heartbeat brought another soul to oblivion.
Either a human knight who had shouted holy prayers moments before.
Or a former royal guard, now death knight, who collapsed again into silent darkness.
"Despicable? Depraved? HAHAHA! What does this pathetic world's opinion matter to me? All I crave is exquisite pleasure! All I desire is absolute power! HAHAHAHA!"
Through Arthas's maniacal laughter, Frostmourne began shrieking with bloodthirsty glee, not only in his grip but within his very mind, hungering desperately for slaughter. Arthas seized the hilt with both trembling hands, assumed the T-stance that Uther had drilled into him countless times, raised the cursed blade, and took his killing position.
For one devastating moment, Uther's gaze seemed to pierce through time itself, arriving at Arthas thirteen years past—the eager little prince who had become his disciple and learned the ways of combat and Holy Light with burning enthusiasm!
Uther tore his sight from those cherished memories, studied Arthas for an eternal heartbeat, then slowly raised his blazing hammer of divine judgment.
"I refused to believe the reports that you had fallen to Death Knight corruption and murdered your own father." The Paladin leader's voice cracked with raw emotion, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks: "Until I witnessed Lordaeron's destruction with my own eyes and beheld His Majesty's desecrated remains..."
In that moment, Arthas felt his father's lifeless eyes boring into him from the throne, felt Uther's words causing his very soul to convulse with agony.
He despised this sensation of weakness, deliberately allowing the shadow-fire around his form to blaze brighter. He cast a sideways glance at his father's corpse, his lips twisting into a grotesque smile.
"Do you believe it NOW!?"
Unexpectedly, Uther began speaking as though to himself: "I dismissed your selfishness as mere childish petulance. I interpreted your stubborn defiance as a young man's natural desire to escape his parents' shadow. At the orphanage—"
When the orphanage was mentioned, both master and fallen disciple shared the same crushing sorrow etched across their faces.
Uther raised his head toward the shattered ceiling: "Yes, the Holy Light has cleansed my heart of hatred. Even though it was an unmitigated catastrophe... Since that cursed day, I have prayed ceaselessly that you might recognize your monstrous errors."
"Errors? Indeed! I was stumbling from mistake to mistake, but why didn't you STOP me then!?" After hurling blame at his master, Arthas continued glaring with volcanic rage.
Uther's mouth filled with the taste of bitter ash: "I could never raise arms against my lord's beloved son."
Arthas forced a twisted grin, and the two began their final confrontation: "Yet here you stand, ready to strike me down."
"This is my sacred oath to your father, my dearest friend. Even though his own flesh and blood butchered him while he stood defenseless and helpless, I must at least honor his mortal remains."
"You and your holy fools will perish because of your misguided loyalty." Arthas surveyed the dwindling number of paladins in the chamber with sadistic amusement.
The Paladins fought with magnificent fury, but against endless waves of undead filth, their power and Holy Light flickered as faintly as dying embers in eternal night.
"Death? Perhaps. We all embraced this possibility before entering your domain." Uther showed no fear: "I would rather die upholding my sacred vows than live under your twisted 'mercy.' I thank the Light that Terenas is dead—that he cannot witness the monster you have become."
These words struck Arthas... with unexpected devastation.
He had not anticipated this reaction. The fallen prince stood paralyzed, his emotions waging brutal war within his corrupted heart. Uther, seizing this advantage, pressed his attack with ruthless precision.
"FOR THE HOLY LIGHT!" Uther bellowed, drawing his hammer back slightly before unleashing it with earth-shattering force. The blazing weapon streaked forward with terrifying velocity, its passage through the air creating a sound as though the Holy Light itself was tearing reality apart.
It was a hammer blow that could have shattered mountains.
No room existed for evasion—Arthas had to grit his teeth and raise his blade in desperate defense.
"CLAAANG——"
The impact resonated through the entire palace.
The colossal force nearly drove Arthas to his knees in submission.
Arthas had suffered catastrophic miscalculation.
At the precise moment sword met hammer, Arthas felt devastating weakness flood his arms and core. The body reborn through dark sorcery could never match the perfectly conditioned form that had served him for over twenty years. The lingering damage from Duke's blade—the severed arms and pierced abdomen—finally manifested its crippling consequences.
Because Frostmourne had previously expended enormous magical energy healing his wounds, combined with Arthas's spiritually unstable Dark Heart, the direct result was that the mighty runic blade Frostmourne actually developed hairline fractures under the assault of Uther's epic mortal hammer.
"IMPOSSIBLE——" Arthas looked absolutely terrified.
"DESTROY THAT CURSED THING—Arthas!" Uther roared with divine thunder, his silver beard whipping in supernatural winds, transforming him into an avatar of righteous judgment.
Arthas dared not absorb a second devastating blow, but his nimble footwork, honed through decades of training, preserved his wretched existence.
Though he barely evaded complete annihilation, he could feel the hammer's wind currents kissing his face with promises of death.
Uther's expression remained coldly focused... and absolutely murderous. In this moment, only one thought consumed his mind—obliterating this king's traitorous spawn.
Stopping evil's spread was his divine mandate.
Similarly, Arthas understood there could be no retreat. He was no longer among the living, and after crossing the forbidden threshold between life and death, he could only plunge deeper into damnation's embrace.
Even without the Dreadlord's whispered encouragement, he knew his duty demanded his former mentor's destruction.
He had to erase his past... every last trace. Otherwise it would continue surfacing, offering false hope that mercy and forgiveness might still be possible.
Uther continued his relentless assault, hammering him twelve times while Arthas retreated twenty-four steps, backing steadily toward the throne's edge. Suddenly, Arthas discovered his heel pressed against Lordaeron's royal throne.
Nowhere left to run!
Time to fight back!
With a desperate, inhuman shriek, Arthas exploited the opening created by Uther's excessive force born of righteous fury, slashing downward with vicious intent.
But it was a trap Uther had deliberately created!
Frostmourne's attack found only empty air.
"Foolish student! Have you forgotten the fundamental art of enemy deception?" Uther seized Arthas's wrist with his left hand while positioning his Holy Light Hammer against Arthas's forehead with his right. One word from Uther would end the future Lich King permanently. A soul obliterated by Holy Light would never again carry the Lich King's will and dark inheritance.
In that moment, Arthas smiled with pure malevolent triumph.
Behind him, Terenas's long-dead corpse suddenly lunged toward Uther with supernatural violence!
Gazing upon the familiar features still visible on his lord's decomposing face, Uther needed only one Holy Light blast to destroy the zombie king and escape this trap. However, for one crucial heartbeat, confusion paralyzed him.
When Uther's senses returned, he found himself embracing Terenas's rotting body while the cursed blade pierced through both his beloved lord and his own heart.
"This is MY victory, dear teacher!" Those words sent Uther plummeting into darkness's eternal abyss.