Stormwind Wizard God-Chapter 602: Insanity

Ner'zhul is the absolute king of dumbasses.

Kil'jaeden dangled a blood contract in front of him, and this brain-dead moron signed it faster than a starving man at a free buffet.

Getting suckered by a smooth-talking devil? Fine, everyone's been there—call it temporary insanity, shed a tear for the poor fool. But after gaining earth-shattering power, what does this colossal idiot do? He gets cold feet and runs away like a whipped dog! He doesn't clean up his act and become a hero of the Horde like Grom Hellscream, nor does he have the brass balls like Gul'dan to see his villainous path through to the bitter end.

When Gul'dan bit the dust, this yellow-bellied coward crawled out of hiding because he was scared shitless of dying.

For such a spineless worm, it's no wonder he got his ass handed to him by Arthas in that battle of wills. Even after their souls merged, this brain-dead buffoon's weak will still dominated the mix.

Calling Ner'zhul an idiot is like calling the ocean "slightly damp"—a criminal understatement.

So the Staff of Infinite Power represents Duke's absolute contempt for this pathetic excuse of a warlock.

On the flip side, it shows just how much Ner'zhul fears Duke's capabilities.

Duke had been so devastatingly effective that he'd used the gluttonous Dragon Queen to bleed Ner'zhul dry. Unfortunately, even Alexstrasza could only help him so far. The strength of the guardian dragons is chained to the cosmic laws they must follow—instincts burned into their very souls by the titans who forged them.

In the end, Duke still had to rely on his own Moon-level magic to duke it out with this Sun-tier warlock who wielded artifacts like a kid with deadly toys.

Pretty fucking hopeless, right?

If this showdown happened anywhere but Karazhan, even with Duke's ability to resurrect and run back to his corpse, he could die ten thousand times and still never scratch Ner'zhul. The bastard holding Gul'dan's skull was like a nuclear reactor with unlimited fuel—how the hell could Duke, a Moon Mage running on coal power, compete with that kind of raw magical firepower?

But thank the Light and all that's holy—this WAS Karazhan!

Duke, having seized control of the entire mage tower, could now harness its full arcane might against Ner'zhul.

Now we're talking about a whole new ballgame!

The strategy: overwhelm superior quality with absolutely ridiculous quantity.

First, he had to avoid getting one-shotted by Ner'zhul's Pain magic. Those curses were like continuous poison, but for someone with Duke's constitution, even one hit would turn him into magical hamburger meat.

Sure enough, Ner'zhul proved he was as dirty as a politician's promises.

Just before unleashing his fire cloud, the sneaky bastard flicked his left index finger with snake-like subtlety. Silent as death itself, a barrage of curses flew toward Duke like invisible wasps!

Without the system's warnings, Duke would have been toast—burnt, buttered, and served for breakfast.

The next moment, the Windrunner sisters had retreated a hundred meters and taken cover by the doorway. After Duke's modifications, Karazhan had become a world unto itself in each section. Beyond the basic visual and atmospheric connections, each area existed in its own pocket dimension.

And Duke? He'd just pulled off the most spectacular magic trick of his career—splitting himself into over a hundred copies in one breath!

Real Mirror Image Technique: Infinitely Ridiculous Edition

The 'Duke' standing center stage suddenly looked like he'd contracted every plague known to Azeroth. After a blood-curdling scream, he clutched his chest, collapsed in agony, twitched like a dying fish, and croaked!

If there weren't a hundred-plus other Dukes watching nearby, the Windrunner sisters hiding by the door would have had heart attacks.

"Holy shit! He's dead!?"

"Poisoned?"

"Did he eat something that killed him?"

"Bah! No matter how weird Duke #233 gets, he wouldn't eat literal crap, right?"

"Don't even ask—it's gotta be that cheating bastard Ner'zhul!"

"Exactly! Dirty, rotten, no-good snake!"

Ner'zhul stood there like a deer in headlights, wondering if he'd lost his damn mind. He wasn't some backwoods hick who'd never seen illusion magic, and he'd certainly witnessed blademaster mirror images before. But even the most realistic illusions he knew were just a few copies doing identical movements with no physical substance—couldn't even leave footprints in the dirt. They only fooled enemies with slow reflexes and poor eyesight.

But have you ever seen mirror images so realistic they seemed like actual living people?

No, these weren't illusions anymore—they were full-blown clones.

Clones with independent personalities, no less.

Not just Ner'zhul, but even Khadgar (who'd lived more than ten years), Vereesa (over a thousand years), Alleria (more than three thousand years), and Alexstrasza (over twenty thousand years) stood slack-jawed at this impossible sight!

That's right!

These weren't simple clones, but "troll-level duplicates" for which Duke had pre-recorded massive libraries of dialogue and behaviors in his system!

These Duke clones scattered like roaches when the lights come on—front, back, left, right, even flying into the air—all pointing at Ner'zhul and roasting him alive with words.

"What I despise most are cowardly, backstabbing weasels like you."

"The Horde must be cursed by the ancestors to have you as chieftain."

"You really think stealing Medivh's spellbook will save your worthless hide?"

"Dipshit, did you forget about that blood contract you signed with Kil'jaeden the Deceiver?"

"Moron! Even if you run to the ass-end of the cosmos, Kil'jaeden will hunt you down like a rabid dog."

Ner'zhul shook like a leaf in a hurricane. He never imagined Duke would know these soul-crushing secrets. These devastating truths were like psychological warfare against his already fractured mind.

And now there were over a hundred Dukes verbally annihilating him simultaneously with righteous fury, creating the overwhelming sensation of being condemned by an entire army.

Duke, hiding invisibly behind Alexstrasza, smirked with malicious glee: Backwoods fool Ner'zhul! Have you ever seen how internet trolls can drive someone to madness?

Well, you're about to get schooled.

The Dragon Queen turned and looked at the invisible Duke with an expression of surprised amusement.

Duke winked. He certainly hadn't expected to fool the Red Dragon Queen's explosive sensory abilities.

The Queen remarked, "I suddenly realize you can be absolutely vicious when you want to be."

Duke channeled the moral righteousness passed down by Archbishop Faol and answered with mock piety: "Really? I only use bastard tactics on bastards."

Alleria muttered: "Sister, should we consider trading up to a different man?"

Vereesa replied: "Let's... see how this plays out first."

Meanwhile, when the verbal assault seemed to reach its crescendo, all the Dukes suddenly launched their coordinated attack.

Working in perfect harmony with the staff gripped tightly by the airborne wizard, they unleashed a devastating barrage of every magical discipline imaginable.

Incinerate

Shockwave

Pyroblast

Frost Bolt

Arcane Blast

Arcane Missiles

Plus elemental attacks that would make any shaman weep with envy—wind and lightning powers that crackled with raw fury.

Ner'zhul was completely overwhelmed. If it had been a single element, he could have countered with corresponding magic and used his superior, concentrated power to crush Duke like an ant.

Higher-tier mysteries can easily steamroll lower-tier spells.

But these chaotic, seemingly random magical attacks tore apart and shredded the elemental forces he tried to gather. Ner'zhul had no choice but to wrap himself in his fire cloud like a magical security blanket.

The temperature plummeted and dizziness clouded his vision. Time to call it a night before this battle turned into a complete disaster.