Chapter 173: I Only Killed a Demon

Demons... incredibly powerful.

So powerful that even the strongest warriors acknowledged within the nobility circles couldn't budge them. A mere slap, hardly considered a formal attack, could crush a human's head like a rotten watermelon.

A four-legged canine demon, with its massive maw, swallowed a man whole along with his armor and weapons. The horrifying sound of its teeth grinding flesh and metal, as well as the dying screams of the guards, echoed relentlessly in the ears of the survivors.

Witnessing such a scene and hearing those sounds made one's hands and feet tremble uncontrollably just at the thought of facing such a creature.

The worst part? That creature was once a close family member.

The massive demon indiscriminately spread death and destruction, not just among the despicable Bloodsail Pirates, but also among those who were once considered allies.

No distinction between friend or foe, killing at its whim.

This was nothing short of a nightmare.

And this nightmare seemed to have no end in sight.

Resistance was futile, as all who dared oppose had been crushed to dust.

Escaping was also pointless, as the space on the ships was limited, leaving no place to hide.

Each survivor was a pitiful wretch, waiting in despair for the final judgment to arrive.

At that moment, a divine, shimmering presence descended from the heavens.

With bewildered gazes, they recognized the distinctive glow of a mage's arcane power.

A powerful mage? Who could it be?

After forcibly conscripting all private mages of the nobility, the Kingdom of Stormwind still faced utter defeat in magical warfare. The Royal Mage Corps of Stormwind had all but vanished.

Only a few high-ranking mages remained active on the front lines.

It was apparent that the one who arrived was the very person the nobles least wanted to see—Archmage Duke Marcus.

The eternal sworn enemy of the noble faction became their greatest savior—a cruel irony. Of course, this was only true for the nobles who still remained alive.

Less than one percent of the nobility survived.

It was simple. The demons that emerged from Karazhan easily corrupted the hearts of these morally decayed individuals, turning them into demonic cultists or even demons themselves.

Only a pure heart could serve as the strongest defense, like the saint-like Medivh. Even Sargeras, the leader of the Burning Legion, took decades to corrupt Medivh's heart. And even then, it was incomplete, as Medivh eventually dealt a devastating blow to Sargeras in the end.

As for the purity of the nobles' hearts, Duke could only scoff.

Not every noble was worthy of becoming a paladin, nor was every noble named Bolvar Fordragon.

When the pirates attacked the nobles, most were guarded by their protectors, huddling together in despair. When the pirate's blade found the throats of these demon-transformed nobles, their true forms were revealed.

In such close quarters, with demons erupting amidst the crowd, how many could survive?

When Duke landed on the ship, he saw no nobles left alive... at least, not in their human form.

"Duke—Marcus—"

A roar surged like a tempest, assaulting him.

Hmm, Duke couldn't hear it clearly, so he used his pinky to clean his ear.

"Did someone just call me?"

"Bastard—you are! It's all your fault!"

Facing a demon oddity with a typical Felguard body towering over three meters, but with an incongruous human head, Duke showed no concern.

With a cold snort, a massive chunk of ice erupted beneath Duke's feet, elevating him like a platform. In the blink of an eye, Duke was standing on a platform that was two meters high. Now, he could look down upon this demon.

"Ah, my apologies. You're so short, I didn't see you." "How dare you—" The demon charged at him suddenly. "How dare YOU!"

In front of Duke, a mysterious, azure-colored magic circle appeared. A powerful Arcane Blast, in the form of a massive fist, struck the charging demon and sent it flying back even faster than it came. Crash, bang, and clang! The demon smashed into the ship's cabin, toppling and breaking various objects. However, it quickly crawled back out.

"Oh, it's you, Sir Landor Blancdale. It's been more than half a year since we last met. How come you've gotten uglier?" Under the watchful gaze of dozens of survivors on the two ship decks, Duke mercilessly mocked the demonized Landor Blancdale. "I will peel your skin off and make it into a carpet—" Landor roared as he charged once more, but this time, he didn't rely solely on brute force. His two claws emitted a dark, sinister glow.

Unfortunately, the gap in strength was too vast. Landor Blancdale, who had been effectively driven out of the Stormwind Royal Magic Academy by Duke and missed last year's Dalaran enrollment, remained an apprentice in terms of magical prowess before turning into a demon.

Demons have varying degrees of strength. The stronger they are before becoming a demon, the stronger they become afterward. Someone like Landor, with mediocre talent and half a year of idleness, could never become strong.

It wouldn't matter if Duke was an Adept or an Archmage; he could easily defeat Landor. Twelve Mage Hands appeared, each shooting arcane missiles that, to Landor, felt like a torrential downpour. "Pfft, pfft, pfft—" The surrounding survivors stared in shock. The terrifying demon, who had seemed invincible in their eyes, was nothing more than a target for Duke. Each arcane missile easily blasted away chunks of muscle from Landor's arms or legs.

Countless holes and gaps appeared in his body where the missiles struck.

"AAAAHHH!" As Landor's screams echoed, all other dying groans were drowned out. In less than ten seconds, Landor had become a battered, limbless demon stick. With his limbs severed and his body covered in fist-sized, horrific bloody holes, dark blue demon blood gushed from each wound.

Even so, Landor hadn't died yet. Writhing in pain on the ground, squirming like an injured worm with his battered body, Landor Blancdale laughed manically. "Hahaha! Duke! In the end, you're just as filthy as I am. Talking about saving the world as a saint?

Fighting the orcs as a hero? Aren't you just as full of vengeance and hatred as I am?! Hahaha! I despise hypocrites like you the most. I know you won't let me off, so I'll just wait for you in hell! Hahaha!"

Suddenly, a massive ice coffin enveloped Landor, putting an end to the demon's life. Gazing at the burning ships in the distance, Duke muttered to himself, "I merely killed a demon, that's all. It's just that this demon happened to be called Landor Blancdale." (To be continued)