Kel'Thuzad was having a terrible headache, a very, very terrible one.
The situation was much more difficult than he had anticipated: the Cult of the Damned members had lost contact before they could even spread the plague into the provisions that were about to be sent throughout Lordaeron.
According to the original plan, he shouldn't have been in this small village at all; instead, he should have been unleashing the plague in Andorhal, a major town in Lordaeron.
However, the Cult of the Damned's spies and acolytes kept disappearing as if into thin air in Andorhal, and coupled with the increasing number of Paladins, Priests, and guards there, Kel'Thuzad increasingly felt that Andorhal was no longer suitable for him to stay.
The situation in Stratholme was similar; it was said that Baron Rivendare in the city had received the King's orders and began to investigate all suspicious individuals, and strengthen the city's management and defense, causing the Cult of the Damned's cultists to be caught by guards and beheaded.
The Dreadlord Mal'Ganis believed this was a normal reaction from humans facing the Orc problem, but Kel'Thuzad felt that this demon probably already thought the Lich King's plan was unfeasible and had begun to devise other methods himself.
This caused an inexplicable unease to well up in the former Archmage of Dalaran; he felt that Lordaeron seemed different from his memory, but he didn't know where the specific problem lay.
"I hope the Lich King is right."
The Necromancers held the plague book, which contained evil spells, and his bad premonition grew stronger, even making him doubt whether the plan would succeed, but no matter what, he had to face that Prince Arthas, and he had to be killed by his hand.
Fortunately, the step of being killed by his own hand went without a hitch; this small village north of Brill had already been turned into a plague-ridden dead zone by him.
While he was meditating in a wooden house in the village, an acolyte of the Cult of the Damned stumbled in, "My Lord, Arthas is here!"
After hearing this, Kel'Thuzad picked up his staff, which had a goat's head-like top, and stepped past the flustered acolyte, "Good news, I grant you eternal life on behalf of the Lich King."
"Ah ah ah ah!!!"
Accompanied by a hoarse scream, the acolyte's body limply slumped, then trembled and crawled back up; when he stood upright again, the flesh on his body began to rot, and his stark white bones began to grow twisted under the stimulation of dark magic.
Soon, a mindless Ghoul replaced the timid acolyte, becoming another minion of the Lich King's Undead Legion.
"Go, let that Prince Arthas who prides himself on justice see the Lich King's might." Pale white flames burned in Kel'Thuzad's pupils.
The Ghoul rushed out of the village in a strange posture, joining other Undead to stop Arthas.
"Bang!"
Kel'Thuzad looked up and saw the Ghoul's body, which had just run out, arc like a broken rag doll and smash onto the thatched hut not far from him.
Arthas's warhammer glowed with dazzling holy light, and each sweep could turn four or five zombies and skeletons into dust.
Kel'Thuzad's staff began to tap rhythmically on the ground, and the villagers who had long died of the plague in the village stood up once more under the guidance of his magic.
Seeing the villagers' corpses turn into tools for Undead magic, Captain Falric was enraged; he raised his sword and shouted, "Prince Arthas, that wizard over there is casting spells!"
"Leave it to me!"
Jaina raised her hand and summoned ice cones that filled the sky, striking down all the Undead summoned by Kel'Thuzad like an arrow rain; Arthas clenched his fist and smashed through the skeleton soldiers blocking his way, breaking through the defense line formed by these low-level Undead with great strides.
Kel'Thuzad neither dodged nor showed any panic, nor did he use any spells; he watched as Arthas rushed in front of him, grabbed his neck with one hand, and lifted him off the ground—this was part of the plan.
"Ugh… cough cough, Prince Arthas, I've been waiting for you for a long time." Kel'Thuzad's face was pale, making it impossible to tell if he was alive or dead, "Do you think killing me is the end?"
In Kel'Thuzad's anticipation, the angry Prince Arthas would surely press him for the mastermind behind it all, and if so, the first step of his master's plan would succeed.
However, Arthas looked at the Necromancers, not with anger, but with great calm; Kel'Thuzad could not get any of the emotions he wanted from the Prince Arthas's eyes.
Arthas slowly said something that made Kel'Thuzad surprised and uncertain, "Yes, that's right, I've been waiting for you—next, it's Mal'Ganis."
With a look of astonishment, Kel'Thuzad was unable to say another word before Arthas twisted his neck.
The body of the Necromancers, who should not have died here, was thrown to the ground by Arthas; Jaina and the knights quickly cleared the remaining Undead and came to Arthas's side.
"What did this mage know?" Jaina asked, looking at the body on the ground, her expression suddenly froze, "Kel'Thuzad?"
"It's him."
"You killed him? Just like that… with a squeeze?" Jaina found it incredibly hard to believe; Kel'Thuzad was a genuine Archmage, and even if he had fallen, his strength shouldn't have declined so much.
She had thought Arthas had only caught an insignificant small fry, but she hadn't expected Kel'Thuzad himself to have been killed by Arthas.
"Yes, it shouldn't have been this easy," Arthas looked at the village, which had almost become a graveyard, "but he was weakened by Necromantic magic and intended to die anyway; our mission is not yet complete."
Jaina was somewhat confused, "Intended to die? Wasn't he the mastermind? Whose orders was he following?"
"My scouts are tracking the target, so we still need to continue the pursuit."
Arthas shook his head; Mal'Ganis's concealment methods were very powerful, and coupled with his own formidable strength, the scouts Arthas sent out dared not track this Dreadlord like they handled the Cult of the Damned's cannon fodder.
Doing so would only result in being countered by the Dreadlord; the Nathrezim, who could probe souls, could easily read the desired intelligence. Although it wouldn't expose Arthas's entire plan, alerting the enemy would make subsequent actions more difficult.
"Jaina, burn this village."
Arthas surveyed the tragic village; it had been infiltrated by Kel'Thuzad's Cult of the Damned for too long, and the villagers had long been corrupted by the plague. What was called a village was actually just a den of plague and the Cult of the Damned; now it had simply erupted completely.
The Secret Intelligence Agency's manpower was also limited; it was impossible to allocate a large number of people to every village and town, as that would only put more innocent people in danger.
Jaina was somewhat reluctant, but the best way to deal with a large-scale Undead plague was Fire Element magic, even more effective than Holy Light. The female mage sighed and lit fires on the haystacks and corpses, using a great fire to completely dispel the plague here.
While the flames were still burning, Arthas led his team out of the village, preparing to head to Andorhal, the political and economic center of Westwilde.
Not long after the Prince Arthas and his knights left, another group of figures dressed in black leather armor and wearing masks rushed into the sea of fire, taking away Kel'Thuzad's long-dead body.
On the way to Westwilde, Jaina's mood remained low. Arthas spoke to comfort her, "Are you still distressed by what happened to those villagers?"
Jaina first nodded, then shook her head, "With an Archmage's methods and strength, we have no way to deal with such a small village. I'm just worried whether today's events will repeat themselves somewhere else."
"Our pursuit is to prevent such situations from happening," Arthas said with some melancholy, "but this incident will not end like this, Jaina. It won't be over until the mastermind behind it is terminated."
"Then we must make him pay with blood," Jaina said, gritting her teeth, "to avenge these innocents!"
…
Myatt Whitemane was a physician in the Scarlet Crusade. His wife died in the Second War, leaving him and his daughter Sally Whitemane to live together.
(T/N : Sally Waifumane)
His home was in Southshore in Hillsbrad Foothills, but due to work, he had to bring his daughter with him to the Scarlet Crusade's encampment. Fortunately, the knights and monks were all kind people, and Myatt felt it was a good thing for his daughter to interact with them.
But recently, Myatt felt that something seemed off in the camp. Many soldiers who came to him for treatment reported symptoms of headaches and mental confusion, which made Myatt wonder if there was a problem with the camp's water source or food.
After reporting it, the Crusade's priests investigated the water and food but found no abnormalities. After this incident, fewer people came to Myatt for treatment, as if everything had returned to normal.
But Myatt's inner unease did not diminish; he increasingly felt that things were becoming strange. In the past one or two weeks, he rarely saw Colonel Erwin Smith, the commander who loved to sit in the camp and chat with the soldiers.
Colonel Erwin had locked himself in the command room. Myatt had met him once last night and was almost scared by Wesley—this strong man in his prime looked pale, with heavy dark circles under his eyes, appearing as eerie as a ghost.
But when Myatt blinked again, he found Colonel Erwin's complexion was normal, and he was asking him with a puzzled look why he was so surprised.
After a casual explanation, Myatt quickly returned to his room and warned his young daughter not to run around the camp recently. Little High Inquisitor Whitemane obediently agreed to her father's request.
Myatt , lying in bed, still felt uneasy. Early the next morning, he went to find a newcomer who had only joined the army a few days ago—this was the only new recruit in their team in the past month.
He was specially recruited into the Scarlet Crusade for a six-month probationary period due to his outstanding performance during training. This young man named Sassarian hoped to achieve merits in this battle against the orcs.