Marshal Windsor turned his head and saw the young man he had taken for a warlock—someone who had bewitched King Varian.
He saw that youthful face, and the dagger in his hand, wreathed in a strange violet glow, as if it were breathing like a living thing.
Allen stepped forward, his voice ringing sharply across the blood-soaked battlefield: "Teron Gorefiend!"
"Your plan will never succeed!"
Teron spun around violently, ghostly green flames flickering within his eye sockets.
"You will never obtain the Book of Medivh, never obtain the Eye of Dalaran, never obtain the Scepter of Sargeras—"
Allen's voice rose higher and higher, each name striking like a heavy hammer against the death knight's heart.
"You will never use these artifacts to reopen the Dark Portal and invade—"
"Silence—!!!"
Teron's roar shook the entire square.
How does he know?!
These plans—these secrets known only to the highest ranks of the Horde—how could this damned mortal know them?!
He no longer cared about the black dragon's warning.
He no longer cared about Katrana's words—"Don't let him die."
He had to kill this strange man.
He had to kill everyone here!
"Kill him!" Teron's howl seemed to come from the abyss. "All of you—attack! Kill that mortal! Then kill every last one of them!"
The death knights surrounding Morgan, Varian, and Wren instantly disengaged.
They turned as one, their pitch-black blades pointing at Allen, like wolves scenting blood, surging toward him in a frenzy.
At that very moment, the light dimmed.
The newly risen dawn was suddenly swallowed, dark clouds surging in from all directions, devouring the sky.
Allen walked toward the death knights.
The wind howled.
It swept up sand and shattered banners from the ground, flinging them high before tearing them to pieces in midair.
Allen's hair whipped wildly in the gale.
Electric currents began to stir in the air.
Crackling arcs of lightning leapt in midair—jumping between people, flashing across blades and armor.
A storm was coming.
The first death knight reached Allen.
He raised his massive black sword high overhead, deathly energy coiling around the blade, and brought it crashing down toward Allen's head.
Wren saw the blade descend slowly—and then—
A golden bolt of lightning, like a spear hurled by the gods, fell from the sky and struck the tip of that black sword!
As Allen passed him, lightning surged through the death knight's entire body. His armor shattered under the current, his flesh burned, and the ghostly green flames in his eyes were extinguished.
Then that golden lightning leapt from the charred corpse, splitting into three blinding arcs that shot toward the next, the next, and the next death knight!
Dark clouds pressed down upon the city. The churning sky swallowed all light, leaving only the fleeting brilliance of lightning tearing through the darkness.
Teron hadn't even reacted before he saw the young man walking toward him.
Behind him, the leaping Chain Lightning illuminated the battlefield.
And it illuminated Allen's face.
Teron Gorefiend saw that the young man's pupils seemed to ignite, glowing blue.
Three arcs of lightning shot toward him.
Closer!
Brighter!
An anti-magic barrier! A green field spread rapidly around Teron, the eerie glow on the verge of sealing into a complete shield.
Yet before his eyes, the three bolts of lightning fused into one.
That blinding, searing, annihilating light filled his entire world.
BOOOOOOM—!!!
By the time the deafening thunder exploded, the lightning had already swept across the entire battlefield.
All the survivors stood frozen.
They saw the flash of light vanish in an instant, saw the churning dark clouds suddenly disperse, saw dawn light spill once more across the blood-soaked land.
Then they saw the battlefield—strewn with charred corpses.
The death knights lay scattered in every direction, some still smoking, others already reduced to carbon.
Their bodies had been completely destroyed. Even as undead, they would never rise again.
At the very center of the battlefield, Teron Gorefiend knelt.
His black armor was shattered, its runes no longer glowing, the aura of death fading away.
His left arm was gone. His left leg was gone. His mutilated body lay collapsed among the rubble, gasping in agony.
He refused to accept it.
Those eyes burning with ghostly green fire stared fixedly at the young man before him.
He was Teron Gorefiend—the embodiment of death, the master of life and death, the most feared being in the Horde.
How could he die here?
Die at the hands of a mortal?
"Allen Prestor…" His voice was hoarse, every word dripping with hatred. "What… are you?"
Allen stood before him, looking down at the once-arrogant death knight.
His voice was calm, even tinged with fatigue: "Stalvan. Heleni. Why did you make them do that?"
Teron froze.
"So many innocent people—people who had nothing to do with your grand plan—why did you cruelly take their lives?"
Teron's lips twisted into a grotesque smile, filled with madness and malice.
You little bastard… just stall a little longer… let him come closer… just a bit closer… I'll drain his blood dry and restore my body…
He was about to speak.
But Allen had already raised Xal'atath.
Just kidding. I don't actually care.
"I just li—"
Teron's voice cut off abruptly.
He saw the violet glow on the dagger surge.
He saw something indescribable open its eyes behind Allen.
He saw—
A pillar of purple-black light descend from the heavens!
It was a torrent from the depths of the Void—a devouring nothingness, an abyss from which even the soul could not escape.
Teron Gorefiend's body was swallowed by that torrent.
He opened his mouth to scream, but the sound was consumed. He tried to struggle, but his limbs were dissolving.
The torrent washed over his body—his armor turning to dust, his flesh to nothingness, his bones to ash.
The torrent washed over his soul. The last remnants of Teron Gorefiend evaporated in that purple-black light—bit by bit, fading, vanishing, returning to nothing.
At last—
Nothing remained.
The void torrent dissipated.
Where Teron Gorefiend had knelt, only scorched earth remained.
Allen stood in place.
The survivors, snapping out of their shock, watched the scene—
—and fell into even deeper despair.
Would they now have to face another being just as evil, just as powerful?
At that moment, a shout shattered the silence of the battlefield.
"We've won!"
Varian raised his arm and roared: "Soldiers of Stormwind! We've won!"
He turned, pointing at Allen, his face filled with pride and excitement: "Do you see that?! That's my personal arcane advisor—Allen Prestor! He killed Teron Gorefiend! He killed that death knight! We've won!"
The soldiers froze.
They looked at Varian, then at Allen.
That "warlock" stood there, being pointed at, shrugging innocently.
Then, someone laughed.
The laughter was soft at first—but it spread like contagion.
"We won!"
"We won!"
"Glory to Stormwind! Glory to King Varian!"
Cheers surged like a tide, sweeping across the battlefield.
Soldiers threw down their weapons, embracing one another. Some knelt to kiss the blood-soaked ground, some roared toward the sky, some wept with joy.
Wren leaned against a broken pillar, letting out a long breath, staring blankly at the sky.
Sister… we… we defeated Teron Gorefiend…
Morgan collapsed to the ground, grinning like a fool.
Another great evil… gone today…
Stella stood up from among the wounded, her small figure jumping in the cheering crowd, shouting something like "Our benefactor is amazing!"
Marshal Windsor stood still, watching that young man.
Allen Prestor.
The young man he had thought to be a warlock.
A slow smile appeared on his face.
"Seems I really am just an old relic."
Allen stood there, dazed.
For the first time after a great battle, he had not collapsed on the spot.
But that wasn't why he was stunned.
It was because—the thing he had long awaited—the progress of his main quest had finally changed.
...
[Main Quest: Sorcerer Trial (Completed)]
[Objective: Weave a grand deception, 1/1]
[Splendid. You deceived Xal'atath—a being that looks at least demi-god level. You even deceived me. In that case, I suppose I need to update your character sheet, don't I, Mister Nameless?]
[Reward: +10 free attribute points granted]
[Reward: 3 random mid-tier spells are being drawn…]
[Reward: Class system unlocking…]
[…]
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