Many, many years ago, someone brandished their sword at the monstrous evil.
And then he vanished.
Only to emerge much later from the other side of the monster.
Orange-yellow light sprinkled down, cast upon the skeletal remains of the undead.
He felt something vaguely and looked up.
There was a tiny black dot between the sun and the serpent.
A raven.
The Death Knight lowered his head:
"Whatever you are, stay out of the Queen's territory, or the next wound won't be the only one. Once the Queen's anger is aroused, the only thing left will be a puddle of mud."
The Death Knight had no clue if the monstrous beast beneath him could understand his words, but it could certainly feel pain.
Even a beast without rationality knows how to choose its hunting ground.
Perhaps the monster understood the Black Spade Duke's words. The "earth" he stood on began to quake and twist.
Then he fell from the clouds.