"You're right, Arthas. Cleansing them will indeed take a lot of time, but I think I can afford to wait—the Amani Trolls have once again proven they are merely clinging to life. With allies like you and Lordaeron, I will fight those corrupt council members to the end," Kael'thas cleared his throat and said solemnly.
Sylvanas had initially thought the same, until Arthas, who had been silent for a moment, spoke his next words.
"No, you don't have that time."
"?"
All three looked at Arthas in confusion, awaiting his explanation.
"It should be said, we don't have that time anymore." Arthas felt it was time to sound the alarm for these elves who still wanted to use delaying tactics. "As one of the oldest legacies in this world, I believe you should be very clear that this world is not that safe at all—that is the original reason why you, the Quel'dorei, created the Banthinoriel Barrier."
Kael'thas's expression changed, and he said in a deep voice, "How do you know about this?" Sylvanas and Rommath were both puzzled at this moment. One of them didn't have a deep understanding of magic, and the other hadn't yet entered the center of power in Quel'Thalas, so neither of them knew about this secret.
"Of course, it's because this matter itself is abnormal. The Sunwell's magic is tightly restricted by Banthinoriel to the core of Quel'Thalas. If not for this reason, the Trolls would never have been able to hide in the eastern primeval forests and mountains for so many years." Something seemed off? Sylvanas, being in the thick of things, had always overlooked this—after the Orcish Wars, the Trolls' high-end combat strength was almost wiped out, but the elves still retained a considerable number of Archmages.
Logically, that would have been the best time to completely eliminate future troubles, so why were the Trolls allowed to cling to life for thousands of years? The Archmages, backed by the Sunwell's magic, should have been able to easily sweep through the entire forest!
"Banthinoriel, in Thalassian, means 'Gatekeeper,' but it not only guards the gate of Quel'Thalas but also guards the gate of Azeroth." Arthas' eerie voice penetrated their minds, "That great war ten thousand years ago, you shouldn't have forgotten it, right? Then you should know the ill repute of the Burning Legion! A powerful source of magic like the Sunwell is like a beacon in the dark cosmos! Can Banthinoriel truly conceal the Sunwell's magic forever? Kael'thas, don't forget that runestone stolen by Gul'dan during the Second Orcish War! Didn't you feel that the aura on those Orcs was very familiar?"
"The Legion is about to return."
"The Sunwell's powerful energy is the best choice for demons to build large portals, allowing terrifying demon lords to quickly reach Azeroth from the Twisting Nether. So, after the cataclysm, what do you think will happen to Quel'Thalas?"
Kael'thas was left speechless by the Human Prince's words. A rather eerie silence filled the reception room until Arthas himself broke it, "Now, do you really think there's that much time to play political games with your council?"
"Moreover, this time's resistance against the Trolls is not as optimistic as you imagine. Zul'jin has returned, recalling the old forces of the Amani Trolls and their Loa. In at most ten years, he and his troll army will make a comeback!"
"By then, you won't be facing a small, ragtag group of Trolls, but an army no less formidable than during the Orcish Wars!"
Kael'thas glanced at Sylvanas, and the Ranger-General nodded stiffly.
The Elven Prince took a deep breath, "Alright, Arthas, let's not talk about the Legion for now, that's too far off. But I now understand our dangerous situation. I will return to Quel'Thalas from Dalaran to find my father, King Anasterian."
Arthas's expression was serious, "No matter what, I stand from the perspective of humanity, of Lordaeron, of all Azeroth. After all, at the critical moment of the entire world's survival, none of us can stand idly by."
Kael'thas, who rarely saw the usually optimistic Arthas with such an expression, asked one last question before ending the call, "What you said about the Burning Legion… how can it be confirmed?"
"In five years, Medivh will return. You will understand then, if you are in Dalaran."
Kael'thas nodded after hearing this, and without asking how Arthas knew, he cut off the mana output, and the magical image disappeared with it.
Archmage Rommath did not say much either. He was a loyal follower of Kael'thas and would not meddle in affairs that were not his concern. After handing Arthas the spatial pouch Kael'thas had given him, Rommath left alone.
Only Arthas and Sylvanas remained in the reception room. Sylvanas sorted through the explosive information she had just received and asked Arthas, "Is everything you said true?"
"What good would it do me to lie to you?" Arthas adjusted the collar of his clothes and said calmly, "You must have seen the rise of the Trolls. Does Quel'Thalas, in its current state, truly have a way to deal with them?"
"At least not just with the Farstriders," Sylvanas's tone was quite helpless.
"The invasion is not as simple as it appears on the surface. It involves more, larger conspiracies. If I tell you now, it will only cause you more trouble and serve no purpose."
After this conversation, both of them had much less enthusiasm for attending the banquet. Arthas paused for a moment and continued, "Let's deal with the matters at hand first. Even if the end of the world is tomorrow, we must do the next right thing."
After speaking, Arthas intended to leave the hall, but Sylvanas called out to him, "Arthas, I said earlier that I wanted to express my gratitude to you."
"Actually, it was just what I should do. You were injured at the time and were not that guy's match, so don't take it too seriously." Arthas shrugged indifferently, "Besides, Kael'thas has already given his thanks."
"He probably gave you some valuable materials and magical weapons. Although the Windrunner family is not as wealthy as the Sunstrider family, I think I still have something presentable." Sylvanas took out a contract and handed it to Arthas.
"This is?"
"There's a small manor about a kilometer or two from the Windrunner estate. Didn't you say you wanted to build one too? Well, I'll just give you one directly." Sylvanas chuckled, "There's a dedicated small teleportation array there. I imagine you have the money to find someone to build another teleportation array, right?"
Arthas took the deed and looked at it, not refusing. "A seaside manor, with a large stretch of beach. This gift is truly hard for me to refuse."
"Then we'll be neighbors from now on. If you have time, come visit me. At least in the southern forest, I'm quite familiar with it." Sylvanas smiled. A manor was nothing to her. Anyway, she was the only Windrunner family member actually staying in Quel'Thalas, and a manor without output like this was a huge expense just for maintenance.
After spending a few days touring Quel'Thalas, Arthas returned directly to the capital of Lordaeron via the teleportation array at the Windrunner estate. After emerging from the mage tower, Arthas considered whether to go to Dalaran to ask two mages to fix the teleportation array first—the climate and scenery of Quel'Thalas perfectly met his requirements. Besides the magic concentration being too high there, everything else was beautiful.
Unfortunately, it wasn't yet time to stay in a comfortable and peaceful manor. Arthas still had many things to deal with, otherwise these wonderful days might truly be the last of his life.
His father, King Terenas, seemed to be receiving an envoy from another country, so Arthas returned alone to a training ground next to the royal palace garden.
Arthas took out the spatial pouch Kael'thas had given him, and after examining it, he couldn't help but exclaim that the elves were indeed rich.
"Mithril, Truesilver, and Thorium, tsk, and they are all ingots smelted with ancient elven techniques." Arthas counted the quantity of these precious ores. The metal ingots, emitting a faint magical glow, were engraved with complex patterns, clearly the work of elves. He estimated that these ores alone were no less valuable than the manor Sylvanas had given him, not to mention the other materials and rare herbs. Unfortunately, while these materials were precious, they couldn't be of much immediate use to Arthas.
He did have the idea of forging a weapon of his own. His current warhammer, The Power of Menethil, although crafted by masters commissioned by the Lordaeron royal family with the best materials available, would still suffer irreversible damage if Arthas used the Holy Light at full power. He estimated that his warhammer might reach its end after only a few full power bursts.
A weapon that could withstand his strong Holy Light actually existed in Tirisfal Glades, but going to find that lost Titan Guardian weapon now would be akin to suicide. That was not a simple tomb, but a battlefield after two powerful entities on the planet Azeroth had fiercely fought. So Arthas could only make do with his current weapon. Fortunately, the enemies he currently needed to deal with hadn't reached the point where he needed to fight to the death, and his current warhammer, which was considered an epic-grade weapon, was already sufficient.
"After a while, I'll send these materials to Muradin and have him help me forge a brand new set of armor." Arthas recalled his ruined armor and determined the use for these materials.