Артас: Возвышение короля-лича

           ArthaswhirledFrostmourneoverhishead,theenormousbladelightandgracefulinhishands,andthenheeasedintoanattackposition."Hetellsmethatthetimeformyvengeancehascome."

           Thegreen,glowingeyeswidened."What?Hecan’tpossiblymeanto—"

           Arthascharged.

           Themightyrunebladelifted,descended.Thedreadlordwastakenbysurprise,butonlyforaninstant,andmanagedtogethisstaffupintimetodeflecttheblow.Heleapedaside,greatbatwingscreatingaquickgustofwindthatblewArthas’sgoldenhairaboutwildlybutdidnotaffecthisbalanceorspeed.Hecameinagainandagain,coldlyincontrolbutswiftanddeadlyasaviper,thebladeglowingwitheagerness.Abriefthoughtcrossedhismind:Frostmournehungers.

           Andapartofhimrespondedwithafrissonoffear:Hungersforwhat?

           Itdidnotmatter.He,Arthas,hungeredforrevenge,andhewasgoingtohaveit.EverytimeMal’Ganistriedtocastaspell,Frostmournewasthere,knockinghimaside,slicinghisflesh,harryinghimuntilthemomentcamewhenthedeathblowwouldbedealt.HefeltFrostmourne’santicipation,itscraving,andhecriedoutasheswungtherunebladeinashimmeringbluearctoneatlycarveadeadlyfurrowacrossMal’Ganis’smidsection.

           Darkbloodspurtedinanarc,patteringonthesnow,asthedreadlordfell.Therewasastonishmentonhisface;evenattheend,hehadnotbelievedhecouldbedefeated.