To catch the bandits, first capture their leader; by killing the Lich King, the rest would be much easier to handle. As for why not advance step by step, it was to avoid any sudden unforeseen complications.
Deal with the Lich King first, then find a way to handle Yogg-Saron and CThun. He didn't want to be so passive, but the main issue was that Lordaeron currently couldn't support a two-front war.
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The Lich King was quite special; he couldn't move himself and was atop an isolated peak without any protection. This was a natural opportunity for a surprise attack. Leaving such a glaring lack of protection was practically an insult to the enemy's intelligence.
Since that was the case, then sorry, he had to be killed first. Nerzhul was just too annoying; he hated people who used biochemical weapons the most, and such scum had to be eliminated.
"Do you need my help to deal with the Lich King?"
The Red Dragon Queen's gaze was very alluring. Generally speaking, she wouldn't show up for wars involving mortals. No matter how heated the Alliance's previous battles were, she wouldn't spare them a glance. Her mate's army had nothing to do with her; helping was a favor, while not helping was her right.
But who could have imagined Arthas would personally strike? The weight and meaning behind that were different. She certainly had to help out; no one could stop her when she came.
"Sure, it's fine to go for a ride even if there's nothing to do."
Arthas hadn't really thought about letting others help. For him, steadily managing Northrend and completing the encirclement of Yogg-Saron was the priority. Ulduar, which imprisoned Yogg-Saron, was in a way a form of protection for it.
To defeat Yogg-Saron, the seal must be broken, and for Yogg-Saron to truly return to the continent, it also had to break the seal. The seal set by the Titan Keepers was, to some extent, a constraint, but opening it required the permission and authority of at least four Keepers; one person couldn't open it.
Precisely because Yogg-Saron's location was too hidden, capturing the leader first was also very difficult. It wasn't that it was impossible, but rather that there was no need to go through so much trouble.
Why bother stressing himself out when he could just mass-produce troops and push through? There was indeed no need for that.
Sylvanas, who had been a listener silently hearing various rumors, couldn't help but speak up.
"The Blood Elves have officially joined Lordaeron; they should be sent here to fight together. Only through sacrifice can they appreciate the value of what they gain. They can't be allowed to keep freeloading, nor can they maintain their haughty superiority."
She still cared quite a bit about her race. It was precisely because she cared that she hardened her heart to make the Blood Elves work. Previously, they relied on her and were depleting her resources; that wouldn't do. Not only did it foster bad habits, but it would also damage her reputation.
For the future of the race, and for herself, she would not allow such a thing to happen again under any circumstances.
"Fine, arrange it as you see fit. Northrend has many mineral deposits, and it also needs an expeditionary force stationed here to coordinate affairs. Once these resources are integrated, they will be a very good additional source of funds for Lordaeron."
As he was speaking, Arthas heard a long-lost system notification.
"Obtained Quest: Path of Divinity Ascension III."
"Quest Content: Defeat Lich King Nerzhul, seize the helm of domination, and destroy the Soulforge."
"Quest Reward: Acceleration of Azeroth's repair progress, obtain the Power of Domination, and unlock Divine Envoy Mode."
Hmm? Such a good thing?
Arthas rubbed his chin, falling into thought. In the original plot, to attack the Frozen Throne, the Alliance and Horde both used surprise decapitation strikes. The truth was that the massive Scourge was simply not something the Allied forces could withstand; barely being able to compete was already good enough.
Living beings need to eat, drink, and sleep, and warhorses also need special fodder. Just the food category alone was a massive headache. In contrast, The Scourge didn't need food at all, only needing to prepare war materiel. Being able to fight The Scourge to a stalemate was already a victory.
The closer the undead were to the Frozen Throne, the stronger the control and binding, and the higher their combat power.
To carry out a decapitation strike, one needed to enter the Forge of Souls and destroy the machinery there to prevent the extraction of the azeroth world-soul's power. Then, one had to enter the Pit of Saron, facing the dark and damp areas filled with the aura of an Old God, and defeat powerful Death Knights to move further.
Forge of Souls, Pit of Saron, Halls of Reflection, and finally Icecrown Citadel—this meant the path extended from below.
Defeating Lich King Nerzhul had to be done in Icecrown Citadel, seizing the helm of domination required shattering the ice that sealed him, and destroying the Soulforge required turning back to the first dungeon entrance. This seemed redundant no matter how you looked at it.
Generally, the system's designs had a deeper meaning. What exactly was this for?
Seeing Arthas silent, Sylvanas felt a bit uneasy. Was it because the poor performance of her clansmen made her husband angry?
With a hint of hesitation, her tone became exceptionally soft and charming.
"Hubby, what are you thinking about?"
Arthas finally snapped out of it, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Nothing. After this battle is over and the Lich King is defeated, we should have a child. I was thinking about what our child's future would be like. A union of human and elf—would it be an elf or a half-elf?"
This was a typical change of subject, and also a way to reassure his wife.
It was clear that the proud and strong Queen Sylvanas had gradually stepped into the role of a wife. Only when someone cares about a man do they think about elevating their position and image in his heart. Otherwise, given her personality, even if she were misunderstood, she would mostly be too lazy to explain; it would be meaningless to her.
Who would bother explaining themselves to a stranger? Isn't that a blatant waste of emotion?
Hearing her lover's words, Sylvanas couldn't help but feel secret joy. Seeing other women present, she rolled her eyes in annoyance. She poked her lover with a fair finger, her tone carrying a hint of playful reproach.
"You little rascal prince, you can do whatever you want."
Ysera, who was soaking in the hot spring nearby, couldn't help but be speechless. Isn't this a bit too unscrupulous?
Chatting is fine, but this was basically forcing people to watch them flirt; it was no big deal, though.
The hot spring trip soon ended. This place was actually quite nice and could serve as a future family gathering spot. The main thing was the geographical environment; soaking in a warm spring on a snowy mountain, with white snow as far as the eye could see outside, the contrast effectively enhanced the satisfaction of the soak.
Two days passed quickly. Arthas also took the time to visit the Mountain Fortress and met with the former traitors, "The Ashen Blade." Speaking of which, back then it was The Ashen Blade that awakened their free will and led the rebellion against him when he was still the Lich King. Now, as times had changed, he hadn't followed the path of being bewitched by the Dreadlords; the change in the timeline had led to another path.
The Bronze Dragons had lost their ability to correct the timeline and had no time to worry about it. Moreover, the timeline, this heaven-defying way of changing history, was locked down by the world soul; even if AmanThul himself came, it wouldn't work.
Furthermore, the Titan Pantheon had already been wiped out, their souls being tortured, lashed, and enslaved in the Burning Legion's headquarters. While they could barely save themselves, any attempt to meddle in Azeroth's affairs was simply beyond their reach. This time, they might even be enslaved by their former comrade Sargeras, the Fallen Titan.
He granted them a title from Lordaeron, still calling them The Ashen Blade, officially incorporating them into the Lordaeron system to enjoy Lordaeron's logistical support.
Thanks to the fact that undead bodies only needed repairs to restore combat effectiveness, The Ashen Blade lost many members, but many undead awakened their free will after the great battle. Out of hatred for the Lich King who enslaved them, they also joined the knightly order and began their revenge against The Scourge.
Now the allied forces were split into two paths. One part, with the Mantid as the vanguard, entered the underground Nerubian kingdom to fight, clearing out the Crypt Fiends and occupying this ancient kingdom. The Mantid would also settle a portion of their people here; no one understood the living environment of their close relatives better than they did, and they could also participate in the integration of the Nerubians here.
Illidan and Kaelthas were leading troops to pursue the fleeing Anubarak and others, while the other allied forces advanced in an orderly fashion to occupy the vast Nerubian kingdom.
The underground kingdom was too vast, and the environment wasn't suitable for human habitation; living here long-term would cause various illnesses. However, it was very suitable for Night Elves; as long as it wasn't a dry desert region, they could adapt.
The other part consisted of the Knights of the Silver Hand led by Fordring and Old Mograine, and The Ashen Blade led by Darian and Taelan, forming a ground force to advance. Two pairs of father-and-son soldiers—the effect was surprisingly good.
Splitting the forces was a necessary move. If they didn't, the underground kingdom would be occupied, which wouldn't be good news for Lordaeron. The goal was to completely block all paths of retreat and drive the Lich King into a dead end.
Beneath Icecrown Citadel.
Renault and Anubarak traveled a long distance through the underground kingdom's passages. The gloom inside made even them, as Death Knights, feel a bit of trepidation.
Already undead, yet still a bit afraid of ghosts.
"The Lich King is up there. Go on up."
Anubarak didn't notice that his tone had already changed. Previously he called him Master, but now he called him the Lich King, showing a hint of rebellion, though he hadn't realized it himself.
Renault nodded. He didn't know why Nerzhul had summoned him; he only knew he should obey orders. Looking up, amidst an ice field in the middle of the frozen ocean, many ice floes were scattered around. It was already summer, and the rising temperature had created such a scene.
For a Death Knight, this was nothing; their signature skill was Path of Frost, which could temporarily freeze the water surface to allow walking.
The isolation of the frozen ocean could also form a defensive line. This line was enough for ordinary people, but for adventurers with special skills... let alone a frozen ocean, they would find a way across even if surrounded by lava.
Just as he was about to move, his steps suddenly halted. From the snow ahead, a demon slowly walked out. Holding unique curved blades, with wings on his back and horns on his head, every feature proclaimed his identity as a demon.
Yet in twenty-below-zero weather, he didn't even have leather armor on, let alone plate. He just appeared like that, his skin branded with dark green runic lines, his eyes wrapped in a black silk scarf. Was he blind?
"Who are you?"
"Illidan Stormrage."
Anubarak stepped forward, intending to block Illidan himself.
"I'll handle him. You go find the Lich King."
As soon as he finished speaking, a young elven mage also walked out from the snow. Three burning fireballs circled him, his magic wrapping around him to block the wind and snow. They orbited him in a unique pattern; setting aside their power for a moment, the style points were certainly maxed out.
"Your opponent is me, Anubarak."
Kaelthas had already set aside his responsibilities as a prince, personally using magical communication to talk to Lorthemar, who was stationed in Silvermoon City, demanding he lead all Blood Elves to join the Lordaeron Empire and become a part of it. From then on, Quel'Thalas would become history, and the reasons for persuasion made other elves tear up while feeling ashamed.
He had no way to cure the Mana Addiction because the Sunwell's energy had been exhausted when summoning Archimonde. It was difficult to create another Sunwell, and the clansmen who moved to Lordaeron had proven that they could alleviate and overcome the Mana Addiction there.
Being able to set aside pride as a prince and act from a pragmatic perspective to seek welfare for his subjects—this was the greatest change.
Face is of no help when one is in a destitute and lowly state. Similarly, when one is in glory, it's just an enhancer and cannot produce a qualitative change.
A true prince should set aside face and dignity; otherwise, he would let his entire race follow his "face" to the bottom of the ocean.
No one knew how these two had arrived ahead of time. The only possibility was that they had switched from underground to flying through the sky.
This was indeed correct because goblins from the Venture Co. had found Illidan, hoping to fund his cause. In return, the future mining rights in Outland should be given to them.
In Azeroth, the Venture Co. was finding it hard to get by. They didn't know which bastard had suggested to the Orc Horde to specifically hunt them and seize their wealth, causing the Venture Co.'s business volume on the Kalimdor continent to plummet.
To the north was Night Elf territory, and those long-ears despised goblins the most. If they dared to deforest the area, they could expect to become fertilizer.
The northern Lordaeron continent was controlled by the Lordaeron Empire. Doing business with them was possible, but the profits were squeezed to the minimum.
They swore that the dragon who became queen was definitely the most annoying trade partner; one couldn't even dream of earning an extra copper from her!
After much thought, their only option was to follow Illidan to Outland and try their luck. It was said there were some good resources there. If they could mine and transport them back, they would surely sell well.
Thus, the two sides colluded, and Illidan and the others used Goblin Zeppelins to come through the air, arriving at Icecrown Citadel ahead of everyone else.
They had infiltrated, and there were only two of them. On the outskirts, there was a large undead army arranged by KelThuzad, so the decapitation strike began with them. If they could kill the Lich King, it would surely be worth a massive amount of supplies from the Alliance, which would serve perfectly as military funds.
Those who come are not friendly, and those who are friendly do not come!
Renault didn't know he had become the character Arthas didn't want to be, replacing him to engage in a decisive battle with Illidan beneath the throne.
Coincidentally, there were also people watching from the sky.
Inside the magical airship, the top Archmage Jandice cast an illusion so perfect that even spiritual sense could not detect it; it appeared as nothing more than a cluster of white clouds. In the vast sky, what was there to notice about a single cloud?
Yet, in reality, the airship appeared quite openly above. Neither the lich Kel'Thuzad nor the Lich King Ner'zhul discovered its presence.
Arthas pointed at the duel between Renault and Illidan below, accompanied by beauties like Tyrande, Sylvanas, and Maiev. As for Azshara, she was absent because she was resting; being pregnant, she didn't want to travel around.
"There are many timelines. I've seen one where I slaughtered the infected citizens of Stratholme and, in my vengeful rage, was lured to Northrend by the Dreadlord Mal'Ganis. There, I was guided to pick up frostmourne, successfully coming under the Lich King's control and falling step by step into becoming a Death Knight."
"After slaughtering Lordaeron, I turned it into a kingdom of the dead. Illidan, just as he is now, accepted Kil'jaeden's order to attack Icecrown Citadel, striking a crack in the ice that imprisoned the Lich King's soul, causing his power to constantly drain away."
"Now that this Renault has come here, he is likely meant to merge with Ner'zhul to become the vessel for his resurrection. It is exactly the same as the timeline I saw, only the ending has changed."
If a different choice was made, would fate be changed?
Yes, it certainly would. Looking at each person's destiny from the tributaries of time, one can derive several or even hundreds of fates, each with vastly different impacts.
Sylvanas felt a twinge of pain for her lover. She knew Arthas hated that fate—the fate of being manipulated into undeath and controlled to slaughter his own people. She understood this feeling well, even empathizing with it. Pressing her palm against his, she warmed her lover's heart.
"What was the ending of the timeline you saw?"
Tyrande was very curious. She didn't care at all that Sylvanas and her lover were holding hands; she had already given Arthas a daughter, his first child—the lovely Princess of Lordaeron. Her status was unshakable.
"I replaced Ner'zhul as the Lich King and saw the power of the Burning Legion through his memories. I launched the Scourge to turn all of Azeroth into a world of the dead, using the power of undeath to fight the Burning Legion. In the end, I still failed. The high-end combat power couldn't keep up; no matter how much cannon fodder there was, it would vanish in the blink of an eye."
Arthas felt a bit melancholy. Changing fate was a good thing. At least he didn't need to sit on the Frozen Throne and endure solitude; that might look cool, but it wasn't what he wanted.
Looking at the various beauties of different races—all of whom were his lovers and mates—why would he choose to be the Lich King instead of living a life with a wife, children, and a warm bed? That would just be insane.
"Is your current life what you want?"
Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza suddenly asked. She very much wanted to integrate into the circle of his mates. The cold, aloof Queen persona was for outsiders; among her sisters, there was no need to maintain such a facade.
Arthas nodded with great certainty, a smile playing on his handsome face.
"Of course. This life is what I've wanted for a long time. To be alive—I am alive, and you are all alive. No one can destroy such happiness."
He looked down at the ice on the solitary peak below. Inside was a set of armor, and the Lich King Ner'zhul was within it.
"Today is the day to settle our grievances and resolve this long-standing inner demon."
No one understood this feeling; this was his life. Having been given a second choice, he naturally didn't want to walk into the massive pit of his past life again.
Below, Illidan and Renault began their duel.
The gap in strength should have been obvious: Illidan was strong, and Renault was weak. One was a mage from ten thousand years ago who had transitioned to a warrior; the other was a former Paladin and current Death Knight. For a time, they were actually fighting to a standstill.
Kael'thas was trading spells with Anub'arak. It was clear the intensity wasn't high. Whether they were evenly matched or both were intentionally holding back, they were currently at an impasse.
On the Frozen Throne, the Lich King watched the battle below with mounting anxiety and an inexplicable sense of dread. He tried to use his mental power to contact Kel'Thuzad and have him lead the army to surround them, but his messages were like stones cast into the ocean, failing to stir even a single ripple.
As a portal opened, Ner'zhul tried his best to open his eyes to see, but unfortunately, he no longer had a physical body, and thus, no eyes.
The newcomer wore blue dragon-scale armor and held the long-lost runeblade frostmourne, which still carried the power of domination. His short golden hair looked sharp as it swayed in the wind, and his resolute, cold face bore a solemn expression.
There was no mockery or sarcasm; he was like a stranger who had reached the peak of tranquility. Ner'zhul panicked. He frantically tried to contact Kel'Thuzad to come to his rescue, but it was all in vain.
The person who arrived was not his chosen Death Knight, Renault, but the one he least wanted to see: Arthas!
"You've come."
"I have."
"You shouldn't have come!"
Bang!
The runeblade struck the fissure, destroying the ice without any further pleasantries.
"Stop with the stale memes; they aren't funny at all. Ner'zhul, I won't let you die so easily. Say hello to The Jailer for me, though I likely won't be going to the Shadowlands."
Arthas crooked his finger, and his mental power picked up the fallen helm of domination. Holding the helmet in one hand, he looked at the flickering ghostly blue soul-fire hidden within. Without the protection of the ice, the soul began to grow weak and dying.
"Arthas, hehe, I knew you'd come. I want to tell you a secret: your father and the kings of the Alliance have all had their souls converted into Anima, hahaha!"
"You'll never see them again! You want me to surrender? That's impossible. You've won, yes, but you've also lost!"
Ner'zhul hadn't expected that while he sat atop an army of five hundred thousand Scourge, the opponent would dare to march all the way to attack Icecrown Citadel after only taking one mountain fortress. Was he insane?
If he were discovered, he would be surrounded by a massive sea of undead and instantly submerged. How did he dare to gamble? How could the house itself enter the bet? What a beast!
Whether he was or not didn't matter. This was like two chess players where the opponent disregarded all ethics and personally stepped onto the board to beat up the other pieces, breaking the rules.
Yet he himself couldn't take the field, much like an incompetent husband who could only watch helplessly!
"You will become Anima too, Ner'zhul. Do you think words can provoke me? Don't worry, Outland still exists, and the Shadowmoon Clan still exists. I will have them all converted into Anima—not a single orc of the Shadowmoon Clan will be left!"
Arthas's voice was very calm. To slaughter all orcs might be cruel, but for Ner'zhul's clan, even if they were all killed, the Horde wouldn't dare utter a single word of protest.
In this crusade against the Lich King, the Horde hadn't sent a single person. They had lost their chance to stay in Azeroth. Next, he would further compress the Horde's living space, letting them collapse on their own due to a lack of resources.
Azeroth doesn't need the Alliance or the Horde; it only needs a New Empire!
This ambition hadn't existed at first, but with his rising power, the idea of a grand unification grew in Arthas's heart. An empire that united all races, efficiently developed the resources of every region, and complemented each other's strengths to forge a steel army for an expedition to Argus to face the Burning Legion's headquarters directly.
He only needed to be responsible for dealing with Sargeras; the other demons would naturally be handled by his subordinates. Not just Sargeras, but also those Titans of the Pantheon—what he intended to do did not align with their interests.
Once the Titans of the Pantheon are freed, they will surely come looking for trouble. Either kill them or beat them down and convince them with fists. There is no third path; one side must yield, and that can only be the Pantheon.
Ner'zhul didn't care about the Shadowmoon Clan—or rather, he couldn't afford to care. If he showed any concern, his kin would surely face a cataclysmic disaster. Now that they could linger in Shadowmoon Valley in Outland, it was already a form of mercy.
Given the crimes committed by the orcs, throwing them into The Maw a hundred times wouldn't be excessive. The only thing he could do was show indifference, appearing to have no concern for the clan, to have a slight chance of cutting ties and thereby preserving them.
"You won't do it. You can't even open the Dark Portal."
"Heh, I won't, but someone will. Don't worry, you won't live to see that day. And I will make all orcs my slaves. You filthy orcs don't deserve to live on Azeroth. You pieces of trash—the Horde are all useless!"
Arthas's expression grew more twisted. He had given the Horde a chance, and they had failed to take it. He had said long ago that only those races that joined in protecting Azeroth's safety would be eligible to survive. Now that the Horde had abandoned the crusade against the Lich King, they would have to bear the cost of their inaction.
He wouldn't be foolish enough to charge ahead and take the brunt of the storm while the Horde sat back and enjoyed the benefits. That was not allowed, and absolutely unacceptable.
It was only because Ner'zhul had no body that he couldn't see Arthas's expression; otherwise, he would have been terrified. He was, after all, the Great Shaman elected by the orcs; if he hadn't intended to seek prosperity for his people, he could never have sat in this position.
He had always loved the entire orc race deeply. He had simply taken the wrong path, and one wrong step led to another until there was no turning back.
"You won't do it, you won't!"
"Heh, you won't see the future anymore, Ner'zhul. I remember your wife Rulkan's soul is in the Shadowlands, right? Heh, don't worry, I'll resurrect her. As for what to do after she's resurrected? To breed descendants, of course. I'll visit your grave every year to tell you how well your late wife is living!"
Executing the heart!
Arthas didn't actually have such perverted tastes, but it was effective for provoking Ner'zhul. Looking at Ner'zhul's exasperated tone, it seemed that between his clan and his wife, his wife was more important.
"No, no, no, you can't do this! You demon! How do you know about the Shadowlands? You can't possibly find her! You demon, you bastard, go to hell! Ah!"
Just as Ner'zhul finished his final words, he was sucked into frostmourne to be refined and purified into the most basic Anima. He had committed many evils and was as cunning as a fox; such a soul was a precious material for extracting Anima, yielding ten times more than an ordinary soul!
His final words scattered in the wind. The culprit who once ravaged the entire Kingdom of Lordaeron and nearly destroyed the nation had now vanished. Just like when he appeared in the Shadowlands as thirty-five units of Anima, there were no words, no camera time, only a bleak loneliness.
"It's over. Everything is over. The end of the era of Warcraft, the beginning of a new era!"
Arthas held the Crown of Domination with no intention of putting it on. It was a golden hoop; if he put it on, he would be influenced. Rule the undead? Become the Lich King?
Sorry, he had no interest in that.
Looking at the armor scattered on the ground, these were scraps forged by The Primus of the Shadowlands to match the helm of domination. As a top craftsman, he wouldn't just forge a runeblade and a helmet; if he was going to do it, he would make a full set of armor.
Much like certain people with OCD, they couldn't just do half a job; it was unacceptable and would make them suffer until they finished.
He put away the armor. The Lich King was dead, and the helm of domination was in hand. All that remained was to find the location of the Soul Forge and destroy it.
That was the device for extracting the power of the world soul. If he destroyed it, the world soul would surely be pleased and grant him corresponding rewards.
Below, Renault, still in the midst of the struggle, suddenly felt his power fading, and his bound will returned once more. Previously, he believed he was doing the right thing and never felt regret. Now, as his free will returned, he was filled with fear, hesitation, and remorse.
"No, it's not like this, it's not!"
Renault attacked with ferocity, a suicidal assault that disregarded defense. For a moment, he actually suppressed Illidan. This was the final glow of the Lich King's power; if he couldn't take down Illidan now, it was only a matter of time before he was killed.
Illidan was also very experienced and raised his weapons in a defensive stance. He looked down on this coward who harmed his kin and framed his brother. He was a man of taste and pursuit; how could he associate with such a fellow?
Working with someone like this was a disgrace to the Night Elves!
Meanwhile, the Crypt Lord Anub'arak, who was fighting Kael'thas, stopped his attack, lowering his forelimbs as a look of confusion flashed across his beetle-like head.
"I surrender."
Kael'thas wasn't surprised. His task was merely to stall the opponent. It would be very difficult to kill this Crypt Lord because he could burrow to escape; even if he fought to the death, killing him would be an arduous task.
"You've made the right choice. There is no place for you here anymore. The Scourge is controlled by the Burning Legion, and they destroyed my kingdom and home, Quel'Thalas. Illidan and I are planning our revenge against the Burning Legion; if you are interested, you can join us!"
The battle for the Frozen Throne ended before it even began. Lich King Nerzhul had anticipated the possibility of a decapitation strike, but he never expected Arthas to come personally!
There were hundreds of thousands of undead troops surrounding them, all summoned back from across the world. He had arranged them in an iron barrel formation, clearly intending to resist stubbornly and clash with the Alliance Army led by Arthas. But the opponent disregarded martial ethics, launching a sneak attack on him, a sixty-nine-year-old bastard. Since he was already called a bastard, attacking him was only fitting.
Renault below felt his power gradually draining away. This situation terrified him greatly. The issue now was no longer whether he could win, but whether he could leave alive.
If the undead died again, their souls would vanish completely without a vessel. He didn't know that souls went to the Shadowlands; he only knew that this meant real death. Given the evil deeds he had committed, being sent to The Maw was unlikely, but he would most likely be sent to Revendreth, the realm of the vampires, to endure eternal scourging and torment until he reformed.
The cold wind of Northrend, carrying shards of ice, swept past the Frozen Throne atop Icecrown Citadel. The throne, made of crystal fragments, emitted a faint, ghostly blue light. It was once the source of the Lich King's power to command The Scourge, but now it flickered like a candle in the wind.
Illidan had been suppressed for over twenty minutes, and his heart was already filled with rage. As a Demon Hunter, failing to defeat a Death Knight, especially one who was ten thousand years his junior, was simply unacceptable.
Lord Egg's temper was not good. Now that he had a chance to counterattack, he seized the gap when the opponent raised his sword to strike. Fel Energy flames tore through the air, and his demonic wings spread out behind him. Green Fel Energy pulsed within the shadow that covered the sky. The Twin Blades of Azzinoth crossed before his chest, the demonic fire flowing over the blades sizzling the surrounding ice.
A faint green light seeped from his blindfold, precisely locking onto the gradually fading death energy on Renault's body, and a blast of Eye Beam shot out.
Pfft!
Renault was knocked back several steps. The opponent controlled his strength perfectly, preventing him from being knocked airborne and dissipating the force. The two-second continuous Fel Energy Eye Beam scorched his Frozen Armor until it cracked. The residual Fel Energy flames in the fissures made him look somewhat like Bolvar, the third Lich King.
Renault stomped the ground, activating the remaining frost runes to try and stabilize himself. Ice fog spread from his feet, but the frost domain, which should have frozen everything, only condensed a thin layer of ice crust, which was instantly melted by the Fel Energy heatwave.
The divine aura he once possessed as a commander of the Scarlet Crusade had long been corroded by death energy. Now, with the Lich King's power stripped away, only a broken soul and bloodthirsty instinct remained. The runeblade, wrapped in unholy energy, swept out, and the green toxic mist of Plague Strike attempted to entangle Illidan's ankles, but was cut apart by the Demon Hunter's spinning slash.
The power is too weak!
Just moments ago, they were evenly matched. If his power were still present, Illidan would never have dared to take that strike head-on, as it would have severed his arm.
But now, the Plague was nothing more than a puff of smoke, dispersed by a breath, posing no threat whatsoever!
"Is that all you've got? Is this the power of a Death Knight? Too weak. So weak that I can barely be bothered to kill you."
"But your actions just now annoyed me greatly. I always repay my debts, so you must die. Remember, the one who kills you is the noble Demon Hunter, Illidan Stormrage!"
Illidan sneered, violently flapping his wings to ascend. The Twin Blades of Azzinoth drew two green arcs in the air, and the shockwave of Flame Burst slammed down, instantly shattering the ice layer within a ten-yard radius, sending blue flames snake-like into the air.
Renault hastily activated Blood Domain, attempting to stabilize his health line by relying on damage-converted healing, but the runic energy, deprived of the Lich King's blessing, was too weak. The blood rune flickered once and dimmed. The scorching Fel Energy flames continued to burn charred marks onto his bone armor.
"Agh!"
Although the undead feel no pain, and the body is merely a shell, the Fel Energy not only corroded the flesh but also scorched the soul. This pain originated from the soul, inescapable and undefendable. At this moment, Renault finally understood what it meant to wish for death.
"Don't think I've lost just yet, you blind bastard! Die!"
Renault roared and leaped up, the divine energy of Ganzi Army Strike intertwining with death energy on the blade, forming a strange gray light.
This was his signature move before his fall, but now its power was only superficial.
The green light in Illidan's eyes intensified. Azzinoth Flames appeared out of thin air, and as he slid his hands forward, a scorching fire surged again, instantly enveloping the battlefield in a cloud of bright light.
As Renault was about to swing his runeblade, the Fel Energy flames caused unbearable agony, forcing the runeblade to fly out of his hand. He was flung backward by the heatwave, crashing heavily onto the ice shards at the edge of the frozen ocean.
"Heh, borrowed power is ultimately someone else's. How dare trash like you suppress me?"
Illidan swooped down, his warblades whistling sharply as they tore through the air. Renault struggled to gather runic power to unleash Death Coil, but he found that the death energy in his body had vanished like an outgoing tide. The source of power that once granted him undeath was utterly depleted. He could feel his soul burning inside him; the stripping of the Lich King's power was like two sharp blades, tearing his existence apart piece by piece.
The green light of the Twin Blades of Azzinoth sliced through the cold night of the Frozen Throne. Illidan's crossed blades descended, the Shear skill hitting Renault's vital point with precision, splitting his bone armor and body simultaneously. The dark energy of Soul Steal surged into Illidan's body along the warblades, consuming Renault's remaining life essence and shattered soul entirely, leaving only a mournful wail echoing across Icecrown Glacier.
Illidan sheathed his warblades, and the Fel Energy flames gradually subsided. Renault's corpse lay in the melting ice water. The runeblade, once symbolizing the Death Knight's glory, turned to dust, scattered by the howling wind across the world, ceasing to exist.
This battle caused the Fel Energy within him to surge again, as if he had concluded a battle of destiny. The psychological satisfaction of resolving the cycle of fate elevated his spirit, and his strength slowly and unconsciously improved.
Kaelthas watched the spectacular fight from afar. The entire process, from Illidan's counterattack to Renault's complete destruction and death, took only two or three minutes. He witnessed the suppression of death energy by Fel Energy and understood Illidan's strength.
With such an ally, perhaps the campaign into Outland could be put on the agenda. This plan has potential and could certainly achieve great success!
Summoning his Red Dragon mount, Arthas flew down from the Frozen Throne and glanced at the scorched ice surface. There was still a humanoid outline—the trace left by Renault after being vaporized by the high temperature—the only remaining evidence of his existence.
"The Lich King is dead. The undead outside might riot. If you want to take this opportunity to consolidate an undead army, start now. Once you are done consolidating, bring your army to Mountain Fortress, and I will notify the mages to perform the teleportation for you."
"The portal to Outland is in the Blasted Lands. The Dark Portal has recently shown signs of reactivating. When that happens, inputting energy here will open the portal. For specific details, you can ask the Horde Orcs when you get there; they should be able to provide you with some necessary information."
The recent reactivation of the Dark Portal was another plot orchestrated by Kiljaeden, using the demons of Outland to divert the attention of the forces of Azeroth. As for what schemes he might be plotting on the mainland, that remains unknown.
The best way to counter such a plot is actually to counterattack Argus, The Legion's home world, and cause trouble on the enemy's turf. However, there is currently no way to reach it, and sending Illidan to Outland is also intended for him to search for that unknown shortcut path.
Moreover, Illidan taking away a large number of undead is greatly beneficial for the Empire's development of Northrend. One less undead means one less threat. After all, cleansing them requires spending a lot of manpower and resources, and saving that effort is naturally best.
Next, they will face decisive battles against two Old Gods, so removing the influence of the undead is also a good thing.
"Fine. If there's no rush, give me thirty days."
Illidan nodded. The recent great battle had allowed him to improve significantly. However, compared to Arthas now, there was still a chasm of distance. The gap between a mortal and a demigod was too obvious.
A demigod can bestow blessings upon their followers, directly increasing their strength. But a powerhouse is different; they walk alone, and helping others is often impossible.
"You may. If you need cooperation, contact Fordring. I will notify him."
Arthas nodded to both of them, then looked at Anubarak, who was shrinking back, trying to escape by burrowing underground.
"Go contact the Nerubians of the Underground Kingdom and try to evacuate them."
"As you command, Your Majesty."
Anubarak dared not act presumptuously, lacking even the slightest courage to object.
The cold wind was bleak, and white snow began to fall from the sky. Undead figures were already appearing on the periphery. It was KelThuzad, leading the undead to reinforce the area. They had mobilized the moment they received the news, but unfortunately, they were still too late.
Looking at the empty Frozen Throne, KelThuzad, now a Lich, stood in place pondering, two clusters of ghostly flame flickering in his skull. He had to start considering a retreat: should he continue his stubborn resistance, or surrender to the Alliance?
Surrender was impossible. He might accept it, but that didn't mean the Alliance would let him go. The spreading of the Plague in Lordaeron had caused too much outrage. If he dared to surrender, endless torment would surely await him.
The vast Undead Legion behind him halted their charge under his mental control, standing still on the bone-chilling, freezing ice layer. A strange calm settled between the two sides.
Illidan turned his head and saw that Arthas had already teleported away. He didn't need a mage's help; he could open a void portal and leave himself. He then looked back at KelThuzad, who was frozen in the distance. This was an opportunity Arthas had given him.
Whether he could subdue KelThuzad depended on him. If he failed, then utter destruction awaited these undead.
Up on the airship were powerful figures like Tyrande, Sylvanas, and Alexstrasza. Combined, they could use secret techniques to unleash powerful spells, enough to eliminate most of the undead, and even the sturdy Ziggurats would not be spared.
Tyrande merely glanced at Illidan; he felt like a very familiar stranger. She knew the Stormrage Brothers loved her, and she found it hard to choose. Later, Moon Goddess Elune chose for her, not choosing Malfurion, but Arthas.
She did not regret it and was even grateful. Although they didn't spend much time together, as long as they communicated through their hearts, none of that mattered. Instead, it brought a kind of sweetness, like the joy of reunion after a short separation.
"Leaving so many undead unchecked will cause great destruction. Even with the mountains blocking them, given time, the undead can cross them. This area has good mineral deposits underground, and it's hard for the Dwarves to curb their urge to mine."
Sylvanas frowned tightly. She wasn't concerned about the duel and wasn't very familiar with Illidan, only having heard of this distant compatriot. Later, because Illidan absorbed the Skull of Gul'dan and became a demon, he was voted for banishment by the Druid Council.
Her gaze remained fixed on the undead army below; the numbers were too great. There were dense infantry and numerous Gargoyles. These Gargoyles flew extremely fast. During the attack on Silvermoon City, these Gargoyles turned into statues and lay in ambush, leading to the mid-way assault on reinforcements, preventing them from aiding Silvermoon City.
Her attitude toward The Scourge was clear: one word, kill!
If the Forsaken possessed conscience and were considered good undead, then the undead below were rotten to the core, irredeemable beasts.
"Give them some time; a few years are enough for them to rot. Maintaining their flesh requires high costs. If we can drain the death energy from this area, completely severing the energy source the undead rely on, their self-destruction rate will be faster."
As expected of the Elves, even distant relatives shared surprisingly consistent ideas: to completely strangle the undead in Icecrown Glacier.
Jandice, wearing a mage's robe and displaying an elegant demeanor, stood silently behind the table, occasionally using magic to control the teapot and pour them a matcha drink—a combination of coffee and green tea. It was refreshing and invigorating, retaining the rich tea flavor while masking the bitterness of the coffee, and it had recently become popular.
When the master spoke, the maid did not need to interject; she only needed to listen quietly. She didn't care about politics or war; she only needed to attend to her master Arthas's daily life.
This life service included three meals a day, afternoon tea, late-night snacks, as well as bathing, sleeping, warming the bed, and so on—she was virtually omnipotent. These tasks occupied most of her time, and since they could all be accomplished using magic, her neglected career as a mage hadn't actually fallen far behind.
Tyrande and Sylvanas were still discussing how to eliminate the undead, each proposing their own conjectures. The idea of recruiting the undead was not even mentioned, because they were deemed unworthy.
The Red Dragon and Green Dragon sisters listened with interest, acting as outsiders. Ysera even picked up a delicate cake dessert, savoring it while admiring the snowy landscape. It was quite interesting. As a non-mate, freeloading here—was this really the Green Dragon Queen?
Her mate was still holding fast in the Sunken Temple and was currently facing a crisis, yet she ignored it, seemingly content to watch him fend for himself.