"What?! You're going alone?! That's too dangerous!" Jaina firmly disagreed with Arthas going to the southern camp by himself.
Arthas patiently explained to her, "Jaina, his target is me. If you go, you'll be in danger instead."
Mal'Ganis intended to lead the Prince of Lordaeron down a path of corruption, thereby subverting humanity's most powerful kingdom, weakening the power of Azeroth, and paving the way for the Legion's invasion.
This meant that Mal'Ganis would care about his own life or death, but would not care about the lives of others who followed him.
According to Sassarian, the southern camp didn't contain three hundred mindless zombies, but three hundred undead warriors with considerable combat power. In such a situation, even fully armed and powerful royal knights would be ineffective when facing undead that outnumbered them by dozens of times and were difficult to kill.
Jaina's situation would be even more dangerous. As an Archmage, she would be the primary damage dealer and would certainly receive focused attention from Mal'Ganis. Instead of leading them into danger with him, it was better for him to go alone.
Although Falric and the others were unwilling for the Prince to risk himself, it was Arthas's command, which they could not disobey. But Jaina was different; she would absolutely not allow Arthas to do something she considered a suicide mission.
"No matter what you say, I won't let you go alone! The best way now is to wait here for Sir Uther's reinforcements." Jaina's beautiful eyebrows furrowed, "This is what you taught me, not to act recklessly!"
"We should indeed wait for Archmage Uther's reinforcements, but I don't think that Dreadlords will wait for us too long." Arthas knew that if he couldn't end Mal'Ganis's conspiracy in Lordaeron this time, where would this hateful demon hide next?
With their current manpower, it was almost impossible to keep Mal'Ganis if he was determined to escape. The five Dreadlords sent to Azeroth were all elites of their kind, and Mal'Ganis might be the strongest enemy Arthas had encountered so far.
"Myatt and Sally are likely still alive. I cannot stand by and watch the people of Lordaeron be tortured to death by demons."
Jaina was silent for a few seconds, then asked in a hoarse voice, "Arthas."
"Jaina, trust me, I'll be fine. I'll make that demon pay back double for everything he's done."
The usually quick-witted and eloquent Archmage looked at Arthas's sincere and earnest gaze, and for a moment, she didn't know what to say to dissuade him. She knew the Prince wouldn't make any reckless moves, but she was so worried about her beloved.
"I understand, Arthas—but I'll only wait for you for half an hour. If you don't appear before me after half an hour, I'll come looking for you immediately!"
This was Jaina's final compromise. If Arthas could selflessly rush to save two ordinary people, then she too could risk her life for the one she loved.
"That's enough, Jaina." Arthas felt Jaina's resolve and nodded solemnly to the Archmage.
After making his promise, Arthas quickly mounted his horse and swiftly disappeared at the end of the road.
… …
"Monster, let go of my daughter!"
Myatt, bound to an altar, frantically twisted his body, trying to break free from the demon's restraints, but Mal'Ganis's magic was not something an ordinary person like him could undo.
"Oh, clever doctor, I won't harm your precious daughter right now," Mal'Ganis extended a finger and gently traced the girl's face with a sharp nail, "You see how gentle my movements are; I won't even hurt her."
"What exactly do you want?!" Myatt shrieked hysterically, wishing he could swallow Mal'Ganis alive.
"Look at your eyes, I love that expression on you humans, and your…" Mal'Ganis's massive body appeared like a phantom beside Myatt, his huge bat wings spread open, "Blood."
His right hand plunged fiercely into Myatt's thigh. The doctor let out a scream. Mal'Ganis slowly withdrew his five fingers, licking the fresh blood from them, while his other hand gripped Myatt's head tightly, "Ah, look at your expression, so painful, so humble, so… ridiculous!"
After releasing Myatt, Mal'Ganis let his blood flow out, gradually covering the magic circle on the altar beneath Myatt. An evil blood magic was taking shape.
"Enjoy your last moments, human. Perhaps you'll even get to see your Prince kill your daughter with his own hands later."
Myatt's life was slowly ebbing away. He weakly said, "Demon… Prince Arthas… will kill you, to… avenge me…"
"Oh? Is that so? Too bad you'll never see that day."
Mal'Ganis let out a chilling, cackling laugh. Under the influence of the blood ritual's magic, little Sally's golden hair gradually turned pale, her vitality steadily being eroded by the evil magic.
"Mal'Ganis! Come out and face my wrath!"
Blinding Holy Light transformed into a wave, turning all the undead blocking the gate into dust. Golden flames burned in Arthas's eyes. He wielded The Power of Menethil with all his might, and its scorching light dispelled all darkness.
The undead warriors were no match for Arthas; merely touching his light turned them to ashes. The epic warhammer endured a torrent of Holy Light, each swing radiating a golden aura.
"What is this power?"
Mal'Ganis's smile froze. Arthas's Holy Light was stronger than he had anticipated. Even after destroying so many worlds, this Dreadlords had never seen light of such high purity. It was incomparable.
Concentrated golden flames enveloped Arthas like a physical entity. The Power of Menethil even cracked due to the overwhelming power, but the hammer fragments did not fall off directly; instead, they were held together by the Holy Light to form a stable hammerhead.
The array of undead could not stop Arthas's advance in the slightest. He was like a god descending from the heavens. In the blink of an eye, the warhammer, carried by a strong wind, smashed fiercely towards Mal'Ganis.
The Dreadlords instinctively raised his arm to block, but his body, infused and strengthened by fel, was like flesh encountering a hot iron plate when faced with such high-purity Holy Light. A piercing sizzling sound erupted, and Mal'Ganis's bat wings vibrated, transforming into a swarm of black bats, instantly vanishing from the camp.
"Human Prince, don't think it's all over! Look at that girl beside you; her fate is your future!" Mal'Ganis's angry voice echoed from the air, "The cold winds of Northrend will devour your soul! Your kingdom will be destroyed!"
Mal'Ganis's swarm of bats, mimicked by dark magic, quickly disappeared into the sky. His swift escape stunned Arthas for a moment: this Dreadlords actually chose to retreat directly? He didn't even try to provoke him, just simply lured him to Northrend?
He instinctively wanted to think, but the condition of Myatt and Sally left Arthas no time for further thought. He released Holy Light to form a semi-circular shield, preventing interference from undead soldiers, and then stepped forward to check on Myatt and Sally.
Sally seemed to be affected by some dark ritual, which was eroding her vitality and transforming her soul into some evil monster. Fortunately, the influence was not deep enough, and Arthas managed to suppress it with little effort, though her hair could no longer return to its original golden color.
"Prince… Your Highness…" Myatt's face was pale, his lips purple, "Don't waste your Holy Light… I've lost too much blood… Healing spells… won't save… me… but please save my… daughter…"
"Don't worry, your daughter is fine now."
Myatt's body had lost too much blood, and even a part of his soul was sacrificed in the ritual, becoming incomplete. He was only able to speak now purely by sheer willpower, but he truly didn't have much time left.
Even with the most powerful Holy Light, Arthas found it difficult to save such injuries. Even if he were to forcibly retain Myatt's soul using the power of death, all he would get would be a ghost with a fragmented consciousness.
Both of them knew what was coming next. After hearing that his daughter was safe, Myatt's hanging heart finally settled down, "Thank you… Your… Highness… I… can…"
Myatt's words ultimately remained unfinished. His breathing and heartbeat ceased, and his broken soul and body finally found release from torment.
He was not only burdened by his concern for his daughter but also by guilt for the three hundred people in the southern camp—if he had been more resolute in reporting the anomaly to the church, perhaps more people could have survived?
A pocket watch in the doctor's embrace rolled out of his pocket. Arthas caught Myatt's last possession, opened the watch, and saw a small inscription inside.
"To my eternal beloved—Myatt Whitemane." The signature was Marie Whitemane, and below the handwriting, another name was additionally engraved: Sally Whitemane.
Arthas stood still, silent for a long time, finally closing the pocket watch and placing it in little Sally's hand.
May the soul of this ordinary father rest in peace in the eternal kingdom.