The undead army crumbled rapidly under the Alliance's devastating assault. Low-level skeletons and zombies fell in swaths, turning into piles of dry bone and rotting meat.
The massive forms of the Abominations collapsed under the concentrated strikes of the Paladins and the precision fire of the Dwarven riflemen. Gargoyles were swept from the sky by the Holy Archangels and Fire Phoenixes; the few that managed to slip through were promptly swatted down by the magi's Arcane Missiles.
At the rear of the battlefield, the Lich commanding this Scourge legion saw the tide turning and began chanting a powerful frost spell, attempting to freeze the entire battlefield to buy time for a retreat. A bone-chilling cold radiated outward from him, coating the ground in thick frost and visibly slowing the Alliance soldiers.
"Not on my watch!" Rhodes snorted. Having already anticipated this threat, he didn't use an offensive spell. Instead, he quickly cast Protection from Water. In this context, the spell acted as a perfect counter, providing an effective defense against frost and water-based magic.
The result was exactly as Rhodes expected: the spell allowed the Alliance soldiers to shrug off the freezing air, completely neutralizing the Lich's frost magic.
At the same time, Rhodes shouted his orders: "Prince Kael'thas, Jaina! Interrupt that Lich's casting! Capurnia, Holy Fire Phoenix, Archangels—purify it!"
Almost the instant the command left his lips, a surge of Arcane energy from Kael'thas and a powerful Counterspell from Jaina whistled through the air, striking the Lich with pinpoint accuracy. When two of the top mages in Azeroth collaborate on a counter-magic strike, the results are absolute. The Lich's incantation was cut short, triggering a violent magical backlash.
The Lich stumbled, seemingly plagued by a sudden string of bad luck—a dark aura rose from its body while a golden symbol appeared briefly, marking the Misfortune (Luck -1) effect.
In that exact moment, the Holy Fire Phoenix let out a piercing, majestic cry. Its light and flames erupted as it dived like a falling sun, targeting the momentarily stunned Lich.
"No—!" The Lich only had time for one desperate shriek before it was completely consumed by endless gold-and-white holy flames. Holy Light is poison to the undead, and a sacred fire merged with Phoenix flame and Sunwell energy is the ultimate bane. The Lich's Frost Armor tore like wet paper; its body vanished into the searing heat, and its phylactery (had it been present) would have been reduced to nothingness in that extreme radiance.
The remaining Death Knights fared no better, systematically cut down by the Holy Archangels. While Death Knights are terrifying to common soldiers, they were helpless against upgraded Tier 7 units. Their runic blades looked pale and weak against the Archangels' glowing swords; their Anti-Magic Shells and Blood Shields evaporated under the heat. Frost, Blood, and Unholy energies were all useless against the absolute power of the Light.
In the Heroes of Might and Magic system, Tier 7 units are often more powerful than low-level Heroes themselves. These upgraded Archangels were now capable of dueling high-ranking Burning Legion commanders. As they cleared the field, Rhodes picked off the stronger survivors with Lightning Bolt—no one survives 400+ points of direct damage.
The death of their leaders was the final straw. Bereft of command and magical support, the remaining undead fell into chaos, scattering instinctively or even attacking one another.
"Pursuit! Clear the field! Leave none standing!" Rhodes ordered decisively. He knew any survivor could become a source of infection, turning civilians into fresh recruits for the Scourge.
"You heard the Regent! Charge!"
"Hahaha, let's finish these rot-brains!"
"Victory belongs to us today!"
Morale was at an all-time high as the Alliance soldiers conducted a literal one-sided slaughter. Rhodes even used his Holy Light Elementals as mobile healers. Even if a soldier was accidentally killed, the Archangels possessed the ability to Resurrect.
The battle drew to a close. When the last skeleton was crushed by a Paladin's hammer, the field was left with nothing but burning wreckage and the smell of ozone. Sunlight pierced through the Silverpine mists, illuminating the victors.
"Victory!!"
"Long live Lordaeron!"
"Long live the Lord Regent!"
Soldiers embraced, many with tears in their eyes. For the first time since the plague began, they had achieved a total, brilliant victory—and with virtually zero casualties. Previous wins had always come at a staggering cost, but under the Regent, it was a flawless triumph.
The commanders of all races gathered around Rhodes, faces alight with disbelief and respect. At this moment, Rhodes's prestige reached its peak; there is no faster way to win a soldier's heart than through overwhelming power on the battlefield.
"A magnificent victory, Lord Regent!" Prince Kael'thas bowed gracefully. "Your magic and strategy are breathtaking."
"Haha! That was a proper fight! Those bone-racks couldn't handle us!" the Dwarven commander laughed, wiping green ichor off his beard. He clapped Rhodes on the arm-guard, leaving a streak of stinking rot that made Rhodes grimace. Go wash that off, you crazy Dwarf.
Jaina walked to Rhodes's side, eyes full of pride. "You did it, Rhodes. You gave them hope again."
"Who do you think I am? I'm your man," Rhodes smiled, pulling her into a brief embrace. Capurnia, standing nearby, looked a bit awkward—best to keep our relationship a secret for now, she thought.
Even the usually cold Maiev Shadowsong nodded. "An efficient massacre. You truly understand these undead."
"Rhodes, please lead us in the battles to come," Kael'thas said, bowing deeply.
Rhodes looked out at the cheering soldiers. He had done it. He now truly held the reigns of this army.
"This is only the beginning," Rhodes's voice rang out. "We have cleansed this spot, but Lordaeron is still covered in Scourge strongholds. Rest for one day. Tomorrow, we march east—our final goal is to reclaim the Capital!"
"Reclaim the Capital!" the army roared in unison.
Meanwhile, in a dark corner of the Dalaran ruins, a faint trace of Fel energy flickered. Illidan Stormrage was somewhere nearby, conducting his dangerous ritual. Using the Eye of Sargeras and assisted by Naga magi, he was firing long-range magical strikes at the Frozen Throne.
In Northrend, the Lich King reeled from the impact. The very ice of Icecrown Glacier was cracking under the Fel bombardment. "Is the Burning Legion's revenge coming so soon?" the Lich King wondered in terror.
"Almost there... the Lich King is finished, the Scourge is finished, and the Legion will follow," Illidan muttered to himself as he channeled the spell.
"Lord Illidan, I have searched for allies as you commanded," Lady Vashj said, entering the ritual chamber. "I have brought you a powerful orc who is willing to serve you."
She gestured to an old orc in warlock robes—Dak'thul, the mole Rhodes had sent.