Magni carefully examined Arthas's warhammer, his gaze solemn.
After a while, Magni placed the warhammer on his workbench, not rushing to begin repairs, but instead asked Arthas a question.
"What have you fought with this warhammer?"
Arthas thought for a moment, "Beasts, bandits, Murlocs, Gnolls… and recently, Trolls."
Magni automatically excluded the first few options, "Trolls? What kind of Trolls?"
"A high priest of the Forest Trolls—one blessed by the power of a loa."
The Dwarf King was silent for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts, then he picked up the warhammer, pointed to the hammerhead, and said to Arthas, "The head of your warhammer looks like it has no major damage, only some normal wear and tear, but the actual material has been severely damaged."
"Logically, a weapon of this caliber shouldn't sustain such damage in simple melee combat," Magni had repaired countless weapons, but the condition of Arthas's warhammer was truly rare, "Perhaps your Light reacted too violently when it collided with the priest's power, causing irreversible damage to the warhammer's material."
"I am a warrior and don't understand the Light, so I don't know the specific principle. I can still repair your weapon's damage this time, but I can't guarantee it next time."
What could Arthas do but give a dry laugh? Magni, relying on his rich experience and knowledge, had guessed almost correctly, though it wasn't the collision of his Light and the Troll priest's divine power, but rather the collision of Light and Death that had damaged the warhammer to this extent.
Even the best materials, without the his ability maintaining balance within Arthas's body, could not withstand such a constant wash of two opposing primal energies.
Light and Death are not entirely opposite existences; necromantic energy cannot achieve an almost lossless conversion with Light like Shadow energy can. For example, Shadow Priests who embrace the Void can freely switch between Light and Shadow forms before their minds are burned out by madness.
Generally speaking, Death Knights who completely embrace Death indeed cannot use the power of the Light, but even Undead, as long as they haven't become Death Knights, may still use the Light. However, you will never see the minions of the Ancient Gods receive the blessing of the Light.
But compared to Arcane, Elemental, and Light, which are relatively neutral and gentle energies, ordinary people who venture into the realm of Death or Shadow will sooner or later affect their minds. Necromantic energy amplifies hostility towards the living and pre-existing obsessions, while diminishing other emotions.
Shadow energy, on the other hand, makes certain emotions of a person extremely amplified. It could be love, or hate, or even a person's rationality—extreme rationality leads to extreme madness.
Even more terrifying is that users of Shadow energy are also watched by the Ancient Gods, and even the creators of the Ancient Gods, the Void Lords. The gazes and whispers of these high-ranking beings can easily drive mortals mad.
This is also why Mages and Priests loathe those who research Death and Shadow. It's not just because they almost always turn into cold-blooded monsters or lunatics in the end, but also because their research could potentially summon extremely terrifying existences.
But his old man once said, only magic can deal with magic.
When facing dark creatures from the Endless Void, it is those who have a sufficient understanding of them and have conducted in-depth research in relevant fields who can play a significant role.
Arthas felt that this all-or-nothing approach was actually a bit foolish. For example, although Kel'Thuzad himself was not a good person, if he had received the support of Dalaran, perhaps he would not have blindly pursued the power of the Lich King.
"Do you need any other materials?" Arthas silently mourned for his warhammer for a few seconds. If he wanted to exert his full strength, he could only make do with The Power of Menethil.
"No need, the remaining ones are enough for the repair work," Magni waved his hand, "But if you want to completely avoid this problem, besides paying attention to weapon maintenance, the best way is to find a suitable weapon."
Magni didn't say much else. Although priests and the Light doctrine had existed for a long time, Paladins had only appeared for a little over ten years. He thought this might be normal.
As for Arthas wanting a suitable weapon, he would have to figure that out himself. Dwarves had rarely made warhammers or greatswords that met paladin requirements; the previous ones were all trinkets for priests.
"The history of Azeroth is very ancient. We Dwarves want to uncover the truth of our world through archaeology and excavation, but now we have only seen the tip of the iceberg," Brann had the most say on this, as he was an archaeological explorer himself, "Maybe an artifact is buried in some ruins somewhere."
"Brann is right, but the best might not be the most suitable for you," Magni said while working on the repairs, "Perhaps you can forge a weapon yourself."
Arthas, who was putting his new armor into his spatial pouch, heard this suggestion and thought of the ashbringer, which had not yet appeared. This sword, in the established history, was forged by Magni himself, and its power could even rival Titan artifacts.
"I will consider it, if I can find suitable materials." Arthas humbly accepted Magni's suggestion. This was indeed a very good method, and personally forging his own weapon could also better align with his power.
"Maybe in Northrend, I can find something good for you, kid?" Muradin, now at leisure, poured more alcohol into his mouth, "Are you really not coming with us? We just happen to be short of an excellent paladin."
Speaking of which, is it really safe to bring dangerous flammable spirits into a high-temperature working environment?
Arthas still didn't agree, only saying, "If I can find the time."
...
After playing for a few days in Ironforge and snowy Dun Morogh, Jaina received a magic letter from her Uther with a bitter expression—the Archmage was informing his student to return and deal with the pile of matters left behind after her week-long absence.
After reluctantly bidding farewell to Arthas, Jaina opened the portal to Dalaran and repeatedly reminded Arthas not to forget to come to Dalaran for the Winter Veil Festival.
When Muradin came to find Arthas with roasted meat and ale, he also found his room empty, "That girl left?"
"Yes, she returned to Dalaran this morning."
Arthas sat alone in a chair, reading a letter, occasionally frowning. Noticing the change in his expression, Muradin poured some ale into his cup and asked, "Trouble?"
Putting away the letter he had finished reading, Arthas picked up his ale and took a sip.
"Yes, my subordinates encountered a small conflict with the local indigenous creatures while exploring Kalimdor."
The team he sent to find the Tauren tribe was attacked by Boar People. Although they only lost two men and some insignificant supplies, it still brought a lot of trouble to their mission.
The tricky part was that the Goblin guide they hired was among the two lost men. This poor Goblin fell off his horse and died because his horse was startled by the Boar People.
Now this team faced a dilemma: they had already traveled half the distance and didn't know whether to return to find a new guide or continue based on the previous information.
However, judging from this team's report, they seemed to intend to continue the rest of the journey, as their resources were still very abundant, enough to support their upcoming route.
Arthas trusted their choice. As elites sent to explore the new continent, they were all carefully selected professionals, and at the same time, fiercely loyal to him.
"Kalimdor… I've heard of that continent, but unfortunately, I haven't been there myself." Muradin's eyes showed a longing expression. In terms of interest in adventure, he was very similar to his younger brother, Brann .
"Do you want to go? In the next year or two, I might send a fleet to officially land there and establish outposts."
"If I can, of course I want to go see it myself," Muradin chuckled, "That's a true wilderness! Ha, just thinking about it, my blood starts to boil."
"Then I'll notify you as soon as there's news?"
"You said it! No backing out then!"
Hearing this, Muradin slapped the table, feeling that he hadn't made Arthas his friend in vain. The plate of roasted meat on the table also seemed to smell even better… Uh, wait, where's the meat? Why is there only a plate left?