The forces led by Sylvanas quickly reached the boundary of the Banthinoreil Barrier. After meeting with the patrolling Farstriders, Sylvanas immediately contacted Lor'themar, who was still ahead, using a magical communication device.
"Lady Sylvanas, have you arrived yet?"
"Lor'themar, I'm back. Have everyone prepare and wait for my command."
Shortly after speaking with Lor'themar, Arthas's figure appeared in her sight. Arthas, galloping on horseback, soon halted in front of the barrier.
"You're injured?" As Arthas dismounted, Sylvanas noticed the hideous claw marks on the armor covering his back.
"By the Light, no," Arthas replied, throwing Harraz's head on the ground. "A 'lynx' I just hunted, though its body was quite thoroughly smashed by me."
Sylvanas looked at the head of the powerful enemy, nudged it with her foot, and said with some surprise, "You took out that priest? How did you do it?" She believed that in the dark jungle, even at her full strength, she could, at most, contend with this priest blessed by the Loa. To kill him, she would have had to set a trap beforehand and make extensive preparations. And a paladin, who wasn't particularly known for speed and should have been a mere 'wooden stake,' actually managed to kill him? This left Sylvanas utterly bewildered.
"He was quite fast, but he couldn't take a hit very well, so I found a way to slow him down," Arthas explained casually. "You can notify the front-line troops to retreat now; it needs to be quick. The Amani Trolls should have already realized their priest failed."
"Of course," Sylvanas issued the retreat order to Lor'themar, then picked up the Amani Troll priest's head. "This is a great feat. We haven't killed a high-ranking priest of a Loa in thousands of years. I think seeing this, even the Silvermoon Council won't be stingy with their rewards."
"It's a pity I'm not a Silvermoon City Ranger, so I can't claim this reward," Arthas quipped. "And I don't have a habit of collecting enemy heads."
"I don't have a habit of seizing other people's spoils either," Sylvanas said, taking a long spear from one of her subordinates. She impaled the Amani Troll priest's head on it and set it up on the high wall of the fortress. "But this fellow's head should teach those Amani Trolls a lesson, so let him hang here for now. However, I won't let your hard work go to waste. After the battle, I sincerely invite you to be a guest at the Windrunner Estate. Even if the Silvermoon Council doesn't compensate you, I will offer some personal thanks and compensation."
An unusual glint flickered in Sylvanas's eyes—this human prince truly suited her taste. How long had it been since she had seen such an interesting and powerful human? Five hundred years? Or a thousand years? And he was a prince; perhaps this could be a breakthrough for the Elves to re-understand this world? Sylvanas had long grown tired of the Elves' arrogance and pride. Although many enlightened individuals, including herself, felt that teaching humans magic back then was a mistake, times had changed, and Elves were no longer the supreme beings they once were.
"After making those Amani Troll scum pay the price, I will accept your invitation, Lady Sylvanas."
While waiting for the troops to withdraw into the Banthinoreil Barrier, Arthas discarded his torn blue and gold cloak and took out his spare armor from the spatial pouch hanging on his belt. Spatial pouches were the proud creations of mages, requiring extremely high proficiency in enchanting and spatial magic to produce, hence their high cost. However, the storage space of these pouches was not particularly large, usually only a few cubic meters, unable to hold very large items. According to the mages, excessive space would cause the pouch to become unstable. If you didn't want your belongings to be teleported to some strange place in the Twisting Nether, you shouldn't make the pouch too large. And it was also best not to put dangerous or unstable magical items into the bag, otherwise, your personal belongings could very likely be annihilated in a magical explosion. Right, typical magical creations: practical, mysterious, and dangerous.
Of course, there was also the spatial folding technology of the Gnomes, and it was unknown how these fellows managed to create such black technology in an era where steam technology hadn't even become widespread—it's just that the risk level of those containers was probably ten times or more that of magical creations.
After changing into brand new armor, Arthas entered the Farstriders' fortress command room, where Sylvanas was conducting strategic deployment. Seeing Arthas arrive, she nodded, "You're here. Just now, our scouts sent word that the Amani Trolls are gathering a large army, about eight thousand strong."
"It seems the Amani Trolls want to avenge their high-ranking priest." Arthas was not surprised. Having paid such a high price, Zul'jin would certainly not give up until he achieved his goal or suffered a devastating loss. Eight thousand Amani Trolls was a considerable number, but not their full strength, indicating that Zul'jin did not intend to fight to the death. If he were truly going all-in, sending tens of thousands of troops, even with the Banthinoreil Barrier, their two thousand defenders would be in dire straits.
The Banthinoreil Barrier would greatly weaken the enemies' spellcasters and other extraordinary powers, but it was not a magical wall and could not completely keep the Amani Trolls out. The ordinary troops sent by the Amani Trolls would still retain combat effectiveness after entering the barrier. However, this should be Zul'jin's last attempt. He was currently busy reorganizing his Amani Troll empire, and if he suffered too many losses, the tribes he had painstakingly gathered might abandon him again. If this Amani Troll army could be severely damaged, Zul'jin's prestige would undoubtedly take a hit, and he would have to spend more time consolidating his position. In his plans for the next few years, Arthas had no intention of fighting a war of attrition with the Amani Trolls. Killing one of their high-ranking priests this time was already a huge gain. Next, he only needed to help the Elves defend against the Amani Trolls' offensive, and then he could continue to lay out his plans in the Eastern Kingdoms to scheme another crucial matter.
After assisting with the defense arrangements, Sylvanas found Arthas alone. "I think it's time to resolve the curse on me. I don't want to be waiting idly in the back while the Farstriders are fighting to the death."
"I will do my best, Lady Sylvanas, but the process may not be easy." Arthas tried to explain the potential pain that dispelling a demigod-level curse might bring to the Ranger-General, but Sylvanas appeared indifferent.
"The Windrunner family is never afraid of a little pain, Your Highness; feel free to proceed with the treatment."
—Half an hour later, Sylvanas regretted it.
"Damn it! Are you done yet?!" The elegant lady uncontrollably cursed. Arthas's methods were simply too brutal; his Holy Light power, compared to other priests and paladins, was like a sharp knife, scraping off the curse on her body bit by bit.
"Relax, Lady Sylvanas."
"How much longer do you need?!"
"Maybe another hour?" Arthas frowned, focusing on the traces of the curse, as if this purity of Holy Light still couldn't quickly erase it? So he increased the concentration of the Holy Light a bit more.
"Ah!!! Are you sure you're dispelling a curse and not trying to kill me?! This is even more unbearable than before!" Sylvanas's forehead was covered in cold sweat. That burning, tearing sensation even surged into her heart, locked in a tug-of-war with the curse. She couldn't understand why Arthas's Holy Light was like a raging flame, completely devoid of gentleness.
Arthas was not at ease either; he had to carefully control his power to avoid truly turning Sylvanas into a Holy Light Elf, otherwise, Sylvanas would definitely try to kill him. Fortunately, the entire process, apart from being "somewhat" painful, did not cause any greater side effects. When Sylvanas heard Arthas say it was over, she practically melted into the chair. She laboriously raised a hand, pointing at Arthas, "I… I will never seek any treatment from you again… This is simply torture."
Arthas gave an awkward laugh, "Actually, if this curse wasn't so difficult to dispel, it wouldn't be this uncomfortable under normal circumstances."
Sylvanas rolled her eyes. She would never believe Arthas's nonsense again; she felt as if she had just walked out of an Archmage's Flamestrike—was this guy actually a mage proficient in elemental magic?
"You rest for a while." After confirming that the curse had been completely eliminated, Arthas slipped away, leaving the area; otherwise, why would he stay to face Sylvanas's expression?