Sassarian, clad in a thick cloak, searched alone on the ice plain for Arthas's tracks, riding his warhorse.
Logically, he shouldn't have been so reckless as to leave the main force; he knew he didn't possess the same powerful individual strength as Prince Arthas Arthas, but Arthas had, after all, saved his life, so retreating with the main force was out of the question for him.
Therefore, he gave up his opportunity as a major in the First Legion and chose to search for Arthas in the Northrend ice plains.
This was not only to repay Arthas's life-saving grace but also to avenge everyone in the Thirteenth Battalion.
The tragedy of the Thirteenth Battalion had become a nightmare in Sassarian's heart; during the week he spent recovering in Lordaeron, he was plagued by nightmares every night, and every person Mal'Ganis killed was a shadow in his heart.
If he couldn't personally witness Mal'Ganis's death, he would surely be uneasy for the rest of his life.
"I hope Prince Arthas Arthas can forgive my recklessness..."
Sassarian had decided that once this matter was over, whether he lived or died, he would let Arthas decide his fate, as his independent departure from the troops had already violated the First Legion's regulations.
But the fire of hatred burned fiercely in his heart, and the young warrior simply couldn't swallow this insult.
However, Dragonblight was too vast, and he could only search in the general direction Arthas and his group had previously left, a considerably time-consuming task.
But in the eyes of Sassarian, who was quite skilled in various abilities, this was not an impossible mission to achieve.
Strolling across the vast ice plain, Sassarian felt lonely for the first time; he trekked silently through the snow, searching for any clues.
Time passed quickly, and Sassarian found an open high ground, clearing out a small cave to serve as his campsite for the night.
He found some relatively dry firewood and lit it with his flint; Sassarian took off his weapons and shoulder armor and sat by the campfire to warm himself.
Just a few minutes after sitting down, Sassarian suddenly noticed some strange greenish light points in the dark distance; he was very puzzled but did not intend to investigate at night, instead noting the direction and planning to check it during the day.
...
Arthas, riding Invincible, crossed the vast ice plain and galloped along the river towards the higher altitude of Icecrown Glacier; the skeletal warhorse did not sink when it stepped on the cold river water but ran on the surface of the river.
The area he passed through was Crystalsong Forest, where the trees, countless centuries ago, had all transformed into Arcane crystals due to a massive Arcane magic explosion.
As he gradually moved upstream, the river's pollution became increasingly severe; Arthas could clearly feel the plague and death aura contained in the river water.
When the crystallized forest around him gradually receded, the blue-black plateau permafrost began to enter Arthas's view; he looked up, and a black high wall stood in the middle of the natural barrier formed by the mountain peaks on both sides; this was originally where the river flowed into Crystalsong Forest.
But now, the faint water flowing from that black metal high wall, which resembled both a dam and a city wall, was no longer the cradle of life but a poisonous liquid full of filth.
If not for Crystalsong Forest being filled with Arcane energy and various wondrous creatures, this downstream section of the river would likely have long been barren, becoming a breeding ground for the Undead Scourge.
The Lich King must have intended to expand the influence of the Undead Scourge to more southern regions of Northrend in this way; with prolonged pollution over time, even the incredibly magical Crystalsong Forest would hardly escape the fate of contamination.
And below the high wall, someone was already waiting for Arthas.
"Stop, Death Knight, you may not go any further."
A giant beetle creature stood beneath the city wall; his deep purple carapace was covered with a considerable amount of blue metal, and various ancient Qiraji runes were inscribed on it. His mouthparts constantly moved, and he was even able to speak the common tongue of humans.
However, this language was not actually the common tongue but was directly understood by Arthas through a method of soul communication.
Arthas observed this Crypt Lord for a moment, pointing Frostmourne at him and the Undead troops behind him, "Who are you?"
"I am Anub'arak, King of the ancient kingdom of Azjol-Nerub," Anub'arak's voice was deep and authoritative.
Arthas smiled and nodded, "Ah—I understand; you are the Lich King's servant, the traitorous king, aren't you?"
"His Majesty was indeed right; you have broken free from control, but that doesn't matter; soon, you will rejoin us."
Anub'arak was not provoked by Arthas's words; he brandished his scythe-like foreclaws and said in a deep voice, "Knight, I will make you die in agony."
At the Crypt Lord's command, a large number of Undead swarmed towards Arthas in a dark mass, but Arthas paid no attention to these ordinary Undead; he snorted coldly, and Frostmourne traced an arc.
"Before your King, kneel!"
His voice was like a monarch's decree; almost all the low-level Undead immediately prostrated themselves on the ground; the slightly better mid-to-high-level Undead could barely resist Arthas's deterrence, but they couldn't move or cast spells at all.
Even the evil Gargoyle creations of the Undead fell from the sky like rain.
Anub'arak's heart trembled; although he did not directly surrender to Arthas due to the Lich King's power supporting him, his movements also slowed down for a few seconds.
"I was just worrying about having no army to command, and Ner'zhul sent his soldiers to me," Arthas rode his horse through the Undead formation, stopping just a dozen meters from Anub'arak, "Now it's my turn to ask you: obey or die."
The primordial power of death was not merely high-intensity energy; under Arthas's use, it was a difference in status that almost all Undead could not overcome.
Just as the Titan-forged Guardians would never dare to attack their creators, Arthas merely exuded authority, and the low-level Undead not directly protected or controlled by the Lich King immediately ceased their activities.
And those Necromancers who practiced Undead magic found it difficult to cast spells in this situation, rendering them useless; most other Undead puppets or constructs also faced this predicament.
Even the powerful Crypt Lord Anub'arak would be affected, but the most direct reaction was what happened next.
"Human... you, can shake his power?"
Anub'arak did not attack directly; his movements stiffened, like a puppet resisting its control strings.
Arthas raised an eyebrow in surprise, "Your connection with the Lich King has weakened?"
"He can still control my body, but my mind has temporarily been freed—be careful, human, my body will not show you mercy."
Anub'arak's stiff movements began to normalize; he displayed a speed that shouldn't belong to such a massive body, covering a dozen meters in almost the blink of an eye.
The Crypt Lord's sharp foreclaws rose high and then fell; his target was not Arthas but his mount.
But how could Invincible be an ordinary warhorse? The reason Arthas hadn't ridden him for so long was that Arthas had sent him into the Shadowlands for a dark ritual transformation.
Invincible snorted disdainfully; the blue flames gushing from his nostrils intensified with his breathing, forming a barrier of fire.
Anub'arak had intended to ignore the flames and rely on his hard carapace to resist the damage, but the flames did not harm his magnificent carapace at all; instead, they made his soul feel a burning sting.
The Lich King's manipulation caused the Crypt Lord to quickly move away from Arthas's mount; he twisted his head, "Be careful, I can manipulate the power of earth elements—even after my death."
His tone became much more fluid, as if the previous flames had further weakened the Lich King's control.