Chapter 116 - Nanny-style Assistance

The scene before Lothar was incredibly bizarre.

Duke had almost made Lothar laugh and cry at the same time. He didn't know what expression to put on his face when he faced Duke.

At first glance, Duke looked like a boss.

His short black hair stood up because of the fluctuations of arcane energy. Wearing the classic Stormwind royal mage robe, Duke stood in the center of the entire battlefield, holding two blue-purple balls of arcane energy in his hands.

Countless mage hands made of sparkling white light floated in the air, constantly shooting out barrages of purple and blue arcane missiles, reflecting a relaxed expression on Duke's face.

Although Duke was not tall, perhaps due to his young age, he was even shorter than everyone present, yet everyone felt he was towering and imposing. His black eyes were like obsidian embedded in his eye sockets, deep and wise.

Countless arcane lights flashed in his hands or the hands of his mages, going to where they were most needed.

Whether it was to intercept Gul'dan's fireball or to save a human elite who was almost killed by the opposing orc guard. Lothar had seen more than once that Duke's people were in almost certain death situations, but were saved by Duke's "Multiple Casting" lightning bolts.

A flash almost like "Blinding Light" or a direct attack, Duke's every save seemed so casual, yet just in the right place.

Uninformed folks would think Duke was a god, not only easily beating up his opponents, but also having an extremely generous leeway to cover his teammates.

Actually, that was not his f***ing business.

Duke was on the weaker side, okay!

Finally, Lothar couldn't help but shout, "Hey! Duke, do you need help?"

In fact, nobody had time to help Duke, but the problem was Lothar was worried!

"Calm down. I can't win over here, but don't think I'll lose either. If I drag it out, I can drag it out for a day and night," Duke said, and then used a quick cast of "Fireblast" to help Lothar smear Highlord Blackhand's face.

"Good job!" Taking advantage of the gap created by Duke, Lothar gave Blackhand a hard blow, the sharp tip of his sword, sharper than a nail, easily piercing a gap in the armor under Blackhand's left ribs, causing a wound at least five centimeters deep. Lothar was sure he had stabbed Blackhand's lung.

"Roar!" Blackhand let out an angry roar, turning his head to give Duke a fierce stare with bloodshot eyes.

Blackhand had actually given up on Lothar and charged straight at Duke!

"Hiss!" Lothar took a cold breath. He knew exactly what would happen if Duke's little body was hit by Blackhand's destructive hammer. He had no choice but to follow behind and chase after him.

The mirror image of Highlord Blackhand, even if it wasn't the real one, that terrifying figure like a small mountain would make even the bravest warrior feel scared. Lothar could hardly imagine what would happen if Duke, who should have little real combat experience, encountered Blackhand.

Did Duke's death cause the situation to collapse?

Even if they didn't want to admit it, Duke was the most important member of this assault team. In a sense, Duke's presence was as important as the commander, Lothar.

"Bang! Bang!" Two sounds, and two Stormwind soldiers attempting to stop Blackhand were easily knocked away. The huge iron hammer swung left and right, just a normal swing, but the kind of unstoppable force that could not be resisted by ordinary humans.

There was no barrier between Duke and Blackhand, and at this moment, Gul'dan's image also launched a fierce attack.

Fierce flames engulfed Duke's whole body, from Lothar's side, all he could see was Duke's blurry figure. Not just flames, Lothar also felt the curse descending upon him.

[Painful Curse] and [Ignite], as well as some spells that he didn't know what they were, and several warlock spells that would cause continuous damage, poured onto Duke.

Not to mention facing Blackhand, Duke alone couldn't withstand these moves from Gul'dan.

Not good!

It's going to be a disaster!

In this instant, Lothar felt his heart being stabbed, he almost wanted to throw his sword to save Duke.

However, the difference between mediocrity and genius was revealed in this moment that was supposed to be a hair's breadth.

Duke's magic power that was originally released, he restrained it in his palm in less than a tenth of a second. How powerful arcane energy control was required for this, Lothar didn't know, he only knew that he had only seen this kind of magic technique on Medivh, even Archmage Antonidas was far behind.

If the previous restraint could still be considered an illusion, then at this moment, the highly concentrated arcane energy between his palms suddenly expanded, turning into a clear, five-fingered giant hand, slapping the Warchief Blackhand and sending him flying...just this move alone was enough to make Lothar applaud.

But this was not the end.

The orcs' fighting instincts were terrifying.

Don't let Blackhand's weight fool you, he's never been clumsy. Lothar can see clearly that Blackhand is adjusting his body mid-air, even if Lothar strikes him with his sword, he may not be able to find an opening.

Just then, Duke used 'Blink.'

He suddenly disappears and reappears at Blackhand's side in a flash of light.

His right hand opens, and a cone of icy-cold sea wind bursts out from his palm, covering Blackhand. This move isn't about Duke's magic having a lot of attack power, but rather that ice magic often comes with a slowing effect.

A visible frost covers Blackhand from his feet to his waist, rendering his efforts to adjust his posture in mid-air useless.

What's more, Lothar suddenly notices that Blackhand's back is facing him due to his inability to adjust his body. Through the gap between Blackhand's armor and helmet on his back, Lothar sees a perfect opportunity for a fatal blow.

You see, in this chessboard-like space, Blackhand the Warlord relies on his amazing strength and wears two sets of armor, three centimeters of steel plate armor on the outside and an unknown leather armor on the inside. This makes it difficult for Lothar to find an opportunity for a one-hit kill.

But now things are different. Thanks to this rare position, Lothar's long sword can easily pierce through.

"Ssshht!" The sword of the King pierces through the muscles between the back and shoulder blades, directly into Blackhand's heart.

For a moment, Lothar is worried that this strange chessboard space might cheat him out of his victory by considering the orcs as undead or something.

But obviously, Lothar's worries are unnecessary.

Hundreds of thunderbolts suddenly strike down from the blank sky.

The deafening explosion makes almost every warrior who is still fighting lose their minds. Fortunately, the International Chess Level follows the rules. After those thunderbolts strike, all enemies, including the murlocs, nagas, and jackals summoned by Duke, all disappear without a trace.

"Victory?" Lothar still can't believe it.