82nd chapter

Discover the glory of the Death kings fall part 1

And so came to pass that at last, five years since the battle of Northrend and six months since Exen´tor escaped from the stronghold of the frozen throne that the gatekeepers were finally reunited.
And before them was the unending horde of the lich king Arthas Menethil. And the lich king himself striding towards them through his ranks, neither anger nor hate flowing through him but emotions far beyond the understanding of mortals.
Sure he was angry, the gatekeepers had just done what he had thought impossible, to escape from the clutches of his perfection. But the flow of unstoppable fury was far greater than any normal or abnormal rage.
Sworddevil followed in his steps, and the other death knights followed suit.
“IDIOTS” Arthas bellowed at the gatekeepers, “MORONS!” He added, “Incompetent sons and daughters of a sickening race.”
He had reached the outskirts of his army and stepped through their ranks, coming face to face to the Gatekeepers where he stood towering over them.
“Shortsighted idiots! Why do you fight me? I thought you wanted me to go away, one way or the other, so I offer to be done with this unruly world, and you DARE to oppose ME?”
Exen´tor said nothing, but the sands around him swirled faster as Arthas continued to speak.
Ankthar aimed his gun at Arthas and said: “none of your plans have ever done anyone any good except yourself betrayer. yours is a kind to fight, not negotiate.”
“You dare call me betrayer? I know your story, little one, I think we could all take lessons from you in betraying.”
Ankthar shot a bullet of the strongest steel as big as his palm. It made its way though the air towards his head and landed on the helmet.
A loud bang indicated that the bullet had made its way perfectly, and the little flattened piece of metal that fell down was proof enough of its ineffectiveness.
The helmet bore not a scratch, but the glowing orbs inside it seemed to enlarge and Arthas opened his mouth and roared loudly.
“YOU DARE ATTACK ME? YOU DARE TO LAY YOU HANDS ON THE MOST POWERFUL BEING IN THIS WRETCHED WORLD?
BEGONE THEN, be gone from this world.”
Arthas charged towards them, shrouded in darkness and despair, the choir of thousand screams echoing in his every step. His madness and sanity shattering the bounds of the world and Frostmourne shaking with power.
He did not jump; he did not dodge, bend or break. He charged directly towards Exen´tor who normally would not have found it hard to dodge this kind of an attack was simply stunned by the power he committed to every step and felt hopeless in front of him.
Weakly he managed to block the strike with his sand but still received the bulk of the direct strike. He was thrown away by the force, landing on his back at least twenty meters away.
Arthas wasted no time and spun his strike backwards directly towards Mizra. Having seen the strike and the charge she was ready for him and a block of ice appeared in front the sword and her own blades were ready to block. Frostmourne did not care about any sort of frost, magical or otherwise and cut through the block as if it were butter, broke the blades as if they were made of glass and cough Mizra’s right hand in the way forcing her down. She screamed in surprise and pain and opened her eyes to see her hand between a rock and Arthas’ sword. Her scream was more of pain and horror when she saw as he drew his sword back and cut right through her right hand, severing her hand in two.
Sira’dreth had jumped up behind him with a fireball in hand, ready to blast through his body.
Arthas swung Frostmourne behind and cut right through Sira’dreth in mid air, but stopped when the sword was in the middle of her chest, where it seemed to draw her energies and solidify her body around the sword.
Sira’dreth felt as her body became normal once again, only this time with a sword in the middle of her chest. She grasped for air as he thrust her overhead to land somewhere in the blood soaked lake.
Arthas turned to his next target and saw as Manvalas completed his spell, forcing roots and branches to come from the ground enveloping and rooting him to the ground.
Arthas looked at the roots and laughed hysterically. Wisim let go a bright blue beam of pure magical energy, disintegrating everything in its path except the roots and Arthas.

Arthas still laugh and raised his hand to grab hold of a dwarf that had foolishly jumped up towards him, his hammer behind his head and screaming something unintelligible on his dwarfen tongue.
In one sweeping motion he grabbed the dwarf by the head and his hammer fell immediately to the ground, his eyes lifeless at the merest touch of Arthas.
Arthas dragged the body towards him and thrust it to the ground in one powerful strike, and somewhere along the way the body turned to the blackest dust that was thrust by arthas into the ground with the sound of a hundred starving crows.
Skiz the dwarf was dead and the remains of his soul killed everything living nder the crust in one mile diameter, and released a powerful shockwave that felled every on to the ground.

Again Arthas wasted no time but raised Frostmourne and thrust him towards Manvalas who quickly tumbled away and yelled at him: “you bastard! Do you have any idea of the damage you have done here?”
He dodged another swipe, Arthas was losing the momentum trough which he had disabled the most powerful of the gatekeepers.
Exen´tor was standing up, recovering from falling to he feet two times, and saw Manvalas engaged in battle for his life as he dodged every swipe from Arthas while Wisim and Ankthar shot at him without any effect.
He forced his legs to work and allowed Mesfer to take further control. He gathered his energy and began run to towards the battle, sands surrounding him in a frantic dance of light and magic.
He shot towards Arthas an arch of sand he had so often used to eradicate Sworddevil the sand hit Arthas’ shoulder as he almost chopped Manvalas’ head off.
The sand had effect, Exen´tor could feel that. The sand began to unravel some parts of Arthas but as soon as Arthas felt the tingling sand he dispelled the magic with nothing but willpower, dissipating Exen´tor sand into the air.
Arthas paid Exen´tor no heed but kept on swinging the massive sword in Manvalas’s direction.

Manvalas was getting the hang of his attacks, because of the size of the sword the were pretty straightforward, using his power more than his speed to attack.
Nature might be dead around him, but he had powers beyond that, he would have to use the forbidden power, but in this case he was sure she would agree with its use.
He would only need to back, a little bit more and then he would have the oppurtunity, just a little bit…..
He felt something cold bite him in the back. Something thrust into his body and out of it again through his chest.

A sword, held by the devil of swords who had just stepped out from the ground, along with two dozens of his death knights, armored to the smirking teeth, holding weapons, both impossible and exotic to Exen’tors’, wisim’s and ankthars’ head.
Arthas grabbed Manvalas by the collar and dragged him off swordevils sword and said: don’t kill them, if we finish the ritual on them we will not only win the battle, we’ll have won the war.
He let Manvalas near lifeless body drop to the ground. Blood began pouring from the wound. He saw darkness in front of him and then, nothing.