CHAPTER 733: SIEGE

He believed this was a true demotion. However, capturing Stratholme, so highly valued by the accursed Lordaeron people, would undoubtedly solidify His Majesty Anasterian’s position.

Duke had been disdainful of the red-haired human mage charging into the battle formation, until he caught sight of the gold-rimmed emblem of the Edmund family...

Edmund Duke? Him again!?

Not every member of the Edmund family was privileged enough to wear the blue storm badge with a gold border. Only core members bore the gold border. The middle class had a silver border, and most others wore the more common copper or black iron borders.

The Lich cackled loudly: "Haha! Are you that useless disciple of Edmund? Rhonin, who has been unable to advance to Grand Magus for over a decade?"

"Waste Rhonin"—this seemed to have become a common jest between the Alliance and the Scourge. Rhonin, who had inadvertently caused the deaths of his teammates in Dalaran thirteen years ago and was then forcibly whitewashed and recruited as Duke’s disciple, had long been regarded as a symbol of "overestimating one’s own abilities and having terrible luck" by countless envious and jealous young mages.

A muscle twitched on Rhonin’s face.

Then he saw a rain of shadow arrows! Black bolts of light sliced through the snow-white sky, announcing their arrival with a sharp, soul-rending shriek. Before the black rain of light poured down, the Scarlet Crusade soldier in the front rank had already collapsed, clutching his head in agony from the horrifying soul-trembling impact.

Suddenly, only two figures remained charging. Bridget, shield held high, plunged into the encirclement of five Death Knights with an unstoppable momentum. A red-haired wizard maintained his casting posture without distortion while running at high speed.

Countless people, panting on the battlements, stared at this strange duo—a slender but incredibly fierce female paladin, and a burly yet agile middle-aged wizard. Perhaps they had lost their fighting spirit due to the hail, or perhaps fear had robbed them of the courage to stand. Even as they awaited death’s judgment, it did not prevent them from watching the last ray of hope surge from this section of the city wall.

Was it a deeper despair? Or a redemption brimming with hope? No one knew what they felt in that moment. All they knew was that their eyes were fixated.

"I am Rhonin! The descendant of the Dalaran mages! The successor of Edmund Duke—" A triumphant shout to the sky, followed by a seemingly ordinary Arcane Missile!

Arcane Missiles—the most basic arcane offensive magic! Seventy percent of Adept Mages could cast it! But few were as proficient as Rhonin! It was clearly just an arcane missile, yet others seemed to witness a comet plummeting to the earth! Brilliant! Dazzling! Filled with the shocking sensation of tearing the world apart! In the blink of an eye, the arcane missiles seemed to split, and four new arcane missiles appeared in the four cardinal directions: up, down, left, and right. At this point, Rhonin had already achieved the absolute limit of what a Master Mage could do.

The Lich’s face shifted slightly, and the ghostly light flickering above his cloudy eyeballs seemed to waver, but he still remained unconcerned. A Master Mage, even at their peak, was still just a master. The immense gap in magic density and energy level was enough for him to easily dismiss Rhonin’s attack.

That was the theory!

In fact, the very next moment, something occurred that shocked him so profoundly his jaw nearly dropped. Eight lifelike magical hands suddenly materialized beside the five arcane missiles. This time, eight new

magic missiles appeared. If his calculations were correct, these eight arcane missiles would strike him first, and at a higher speed.

This is definitely not master’s level!

Indeed, in the next moment, eight more magic missiles appeared, accompanied by Rhonin’s suddenly surging magical power! One step, two steps, three steps! After just three steps, Rhonin’s aura unexpectedly broke through the Master limit and directly entered the Bright Moon level! And it wasn’t just an ordinary Archmage level. The arcane light emanating from his body shone like lightning. In this small battlefield, covered with ice and snow, almost every inch of the snow reflected Rhonin’s vibrant purple-blue light!

"This is impossible—" the Lich shrieked.

Throughout history, there had been cases of mages advancing through battle! Firstly, those were isolated incidents. Secondly, most mages who were promoted during battle had unstable auras; the sudden increase in magic power was simply not something that temporarily expanded magic circuits could easily adapt to. Rhonin, however, had no such problem. Not only did he operate his circuits with ease, but he also seemed to have perfectly inherited the name of "Hundred Hands" from his master, Duke. More wizard hands appeared around him, floating in the air.

If the initial attack, consisting of thirteen magic missiles, resembled a purple-blue cone, then after more magic missiles filled the surrounding spaces, the missile cluster—which gradually increased its outer circle range and the number of missiles—had easily surpassed the level of an arcane barrage. It transformed into a terrifying assault, no less severe than a heavy rain! To others, how could this be considered a mere magic attack? It was like throwing a Christmas tree made entirely of highly concentrated arcane magic power directly at the Lich’s face!

"No—" The Lich screamed and flashed, instantly teleporting more than a hundred meters away. Who would have thought that, under Rhonin’s control, the arcane Christmas tree would accelerate further, drawing an incredible arc in the air, and explode directly on the Lich. It looked as if Rhonin, with his small body, had swung a colossal blue scimitar, over 40 meters long, and struck the dodging Lich hard.

"Bang!" With a loud bang, the Lich was blown into pieces without any suspense. Perhaps in the near future, he would be resurrected by the Lich King or the Fallen Sun King. But at least for now, he couldn’t cause any more trouble for the defenders.

"Long live Rhonin!"

Someone shouted the first cheer, and for a moment, deafening shouts erupted from the entire western wall of Stratholme. While the Death Knight was stunned, Bridget used her warrior’s signature skill, Shield Slam, to smash the head of one Death Knight into pieces, then used her hammer to shatter the entire right arm of another. She broke out of the siege in one breath and rejoined Rhonin.

Hearing the cheers, Bridget smiled and said, "Well done, Uncle!"

Just as Rhonin was about to speak, something strange happened. Without any warning, a skinny finger with a glittering golden ring appeared in mid-air. The icy cold light that shot out from the finger penetrated Rhonin’s two magic shields in one go. As Bridget watched in astonishment, Rhonin’s shoulder was shot through, and a long arrow of blood spurted out four or five meters. The immense impact threw Rhonin backward.