Chapter 132: The Backlash of the Dead Fish

Lothar had many questions in his heart.

Why had Duke, who should have been beheaded, returned from the dead?

Why did it seem that Duke had planned everything?

How could Duke deceive Sargeras' senses and seize this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to kill Sargeras perfectly and ingeniously?

A series of doubts almost burst Lothar's head.

On the other hand, Lothar was also full of emotions.

Victory!

They had actually won!

He thought it would be a desperate counterattack. Even though Lothar had been cheering for the warriors, he had always prepared himself for showing the humans' spirit in facing the demons, never expecting it to be another milestone in the history of the war between humans and demons.

No matter how much power Sargeras had in Medivh's body.

To kill was to kill.

Duke Marcus was the one who killed the leader of the Burning Legion, the Demon King, and the fallen titan Sargeras for countless lives in Azeroth!

This was a moment to be etched in the annals of history.

Lothar leaned on his body, looking at the sacred golden sword that he was incredibly familiar with, and suddenly recalled the words:

"Those who fight for humanity shall receive my blessing!"

The whispers of his ancestor, Thoradin, echoed in his ears.

Lothar suddenly had an epiphany.

Why could Duke pick up the willful King's sword?

Simply because, from the beginning, it wasn't a King's sword. Thoradin was not the chosen king. It was purely because an emperor could better unite the scattered human clans that there was Emperor Thoradin and this King's sword.

This sword, originally nameless, would only flow with the blood of humanity's enemies. It fought only for humanity, so whoever held it was destined for blood to flow only for humans.

If one day, the sword bearer betrayed the ideals inherited from the ancient kings, the sword bearer's life would wither and fade. But the stars of the wise kings would still rise, illuminating Azeroth and blessing the human race for generations.

Lothar might have many questions, but he suddenly realized that these questions were no longer important.

Everyone had their own trump card, their own secrets.

Duke picked up the King's sword, proving that he was a hero recognized by all ancient kings.

Gazing at the golden light on the sword, Lothar's eyes became blurred, and he seemed to hear a magnificent and passionate ancient war song from more than a thousand years ago.

This was the belief passed down from Emperor Thoradin to all human descendants.

This was a commitment that transcended thousands of years.

This was the enduring will of humanity to strive for self-improvement in this land full of cruel competition.

Looking at Duke's overly young face, Lothar, in his forties, suddenly felt a little old.

Ah, youth is wonderful!

Wait! Youth!?

It was supposed to be a joyful ending to defeating the evil boss, but Lothar was horrified to see Duke's face rapidly aging, no, rapidly growing old!

In the blink of an eye, Duke's face went from a childish 14 years old to 16, then 17, and 18!

No! This wasn't growth! This must be some extremely malicious curse from Sargeras before his death, using his last strength to retaliate against Duke!

As Duke held the sword with both hands, stirring and tearing Medivh's heart, Sargeras raised his left hand and slapped a mysterious black energy pattern on Duke.

Sargeras' dying roar also proved this point: "Duke Marcus, you insignificant worm, do you think this is the end? No! I am immortal! I am eternal! But you, you will pay the price for hurting me—"

Sargeras' furious voice echoed throughout Karazhan, and even across the entire area.

At this moment, every person, elf, and dragon participating in the attack on Karazhan heard the name of the hero who killed Sargeras.

They rejoiced for Duke!

But they also worried for him!

That was the backlash of the Demon King!

Who could say they could withstand it?

The terror of demons not only lies in their incredible combat power but also in their bizarre and unexpected curses! One misstep, and even the physically strong dragons would tragically die, while the others could only watch helplessly as their companions died in pain and despair.

Not to mention the fragile humans.

In fact, Duke himself was filled with regret.

Damn it, why did I have to be the one to land the final blow? Was the tragedy of Khadgar to be played out on me?

At this moment, Duke's heart was filled with tears!

Before killing Sargeras-possessed Medivh, Duke had been single-mindedly thinking about how to kill old Medivh. Now that he had killed him, Duke suddenly realized another important matter - in history, Khadgar attacked Medivh from behind and killed him, also suffering from Sargeras' aging curse before dying.

Khadgar had a considerable amount of life force drained from him.

That's why Khadgar appeared old and had white hair despite not being that old!

At this time, where time seemed to stand still, Duke's heart was filled with a million grass-mud horses running wild:

"Who would have thought that, after Khadgar's inexplicable death, I, who replaced him as the hero who killed Sargeras, would also be hit by this disgusting curse!?"

Thinking of his youthful self before and after the transmigration, he would now become an old man.

Although someone once said, "A real man will always be loved no matter what he becomes," but...

But...

But...

Whoever loves to become an old man, let them become one! Don't bother me!

Alright, even though Duke had flipped tables in his heart a million times.

In reality, it was still just the blink of an eye.

Duke dared not let go, continuing to infuse the Sword of Kings with his mental power. As long as Sargeras was not completely dead, Duke couldn't relax. Otherwise, if the Demon King recovered, all humanity would die.

He could only watch helplessly as the black beam representing aging shot at his face. He could only let Sargeras' curse drain his life force helplessly.

This feeling of being hollowed out was terrible!

Suddenly, an absolutely unexpected figure blocked the black beam trajectory aimed at Duke with their hand.

Nielas Aran— the soul of Medivh's father, stood there in his spiritual form, shielding Duke!

"You..." Duke's facial muscles froze. (To be continued.)