When Varian saw Arthas's troops "escorting" several elves back to the camp, the expression on his face was quite something.
"Arthas, didn't you say you were going to 'treat' these Night elves 'kindly'?"
Varian looked at the few elves, whose faces were bruised and swollen, and whose gazes towards Arthas held both fear and anger. Without much thought, it was clear they had suffered greatly at the hands of Lordaeron's Prince.
"I was merely acting in self-defense," Arthas untied his cloak and handed it to a nearby guard. "They tried to ambush my troops on my way back. After I discovered and captured them, they prepared to duel me."
"Duel you… wait? Why would they ambush you?" Varian observed the damage on the elves' armor. It clearly wasn't the kind of damage typically inflicted by Arthas's warhammer; instead, it looked more like it had been struck by an Orc's axe blade.
Without needing Arthas to explain further, Varian himself deduced a clear logical sequence: these elves had witnessed Arthas helping Grommash break free from the fel blood, assumed that humans and orcs had some connection and were likely working together, and therefore decided to act against Arthas.
Moreover, judging by their injuries and damaged armor, they were likely the Elf troops defeated by the chaotic orcs led by Grommash.
Thinking of this, Varian covered his face with a hint of helplessness. "Damn it, these Night elves really know how to pick a time to cause trouble. It's the same this time, and it was the same last time…"
The timing of the Night elves' appearances was always so delicate, making humans seem like some heinous race, earning them no goodwill.
"So, in the end, you really fought them?" Varian asked.
Arthas glanced at the Night Elf "prisoners" who had been sent to the prisoner-of-war camp for treatment and rest, then spread his hands and said, "Otherwise, what? Don't let their current state fool you. If they had truly resisted, I would have lost several soldiers."
So Arthas agreed to the Sentinel Captain's request. In her view, with her years of hard-practiced skill, resolving a human youth who looked like a noble boy would be no difficulty at all.
But she had to admit, she had chosen the wrong opponent.
Arthas's apparent strength was among the strongest in the Silver Hand, signifying the peak of mortals. In reality, as a paladin, he inherently held back, as his Holy Light, to ordinary people, was not much safer than fel energy and shadow.
Not to mention Arthas as the Lich King, who undoubtedly possessed the ability to stand on equal footing with demigods. Among those in the Ashenvale forest, Grommash, who drank fel blood, was not the only one who could defeat Cenarius in a one-on-one fight.
Furthermore, Arthas's combat relied not just on his superhuman physique; he could control Holy Light, death, and various derived energies.
Don't forget, the Lich King's sword is called Frostmourne, and in icy and snowy conditions, the Lich King's strength would increase even more terrifyingly.
Without any surprise, those stubborn elves were easily defeated by Arthas. He didn't even use a weapon, as these elves were already more or less injured.
After beating them up and making them behave, Arthas even specifically used Holy Light to heal them; otherwise, whether they could stand and walk now would still be a question.
After a brief conversation with Varian, Arthas went alone to the cell where the few elves were being held—though called a cell, its environment was similar to the rooms where ordinary soldiers lived, just with a sturdy door.
The elves also realized that the humans apparently had no intention of killing them; instead, they sent people to treat their wounds. These actions slightly eased the elves' minds.
"Although I have repeatedly emphasized that we have no connection with the orcs, and if anything, only deep hatred, why do you still stubbornly insist on fighting us?" Arthas pushed open the door, and pure ancient salas language came from his mouth. This was the elves' official language from ancient times.
Although the current Night Elf language differs somewhat from ancient salas language, it is, after all, a continuation of the ancient Elf Empire's civilization, so the changes in the modern language are not significant.
Just like their first encounter, the elves clearly understood Arthas's words.
The Sentinel Captain raised her head, staring intently at Arthas, and replied in the same language, "Are you asking me to deny what I saw with my own eyes, human?"
"Yes, I did help Grommash, but have you not considered why the orcs, whom you had suppressed, suddenly became invincible and easily broke through your defenses?"
The Sentinel Captain's expression faltered, but she still retorted stubbornly, "That's because they used despicable methods to ambush our village and attacked the Sentinel Force from behind!"
However, as she said these words, she herself felt a little guilty. Although the Warsong Orcs initially did mysteriously emerge from the mountains and destroy several Night Elf villages, the later Sentinel Force was indeed routed by the orcs on the front lines.
Even the great Forest God, Cenarius, suffered at the hands of the orcs, and that orc was Grommash, whom Arthas had helped. This was also the main reason these elves attacked Arthas.
Hatred and anger prevented them from discerning the current situation; they simply felt that anyone who helped the enemy was an enemy.
Arthas looked somewhat disappointed, his eyes filled with pity and lament, a gaze that pricked the Night Elves' pride, making them inexplicably ashamed.
"Is that the best reason you can come up with? Has over ten thousand years of Night Elf history not taught you enough lessons?
You spend all your time playing ridiculous hide-and-seek with the Warsong Clan around those trees, not even realizing who the true enemy is!
Did the orcs just become strong enough to fight demigods for no reason? You, who pride yourselves on having a deep connection with the forest, have you not noticed that after Cenarius's death, the entire forest has fallen into an even more terrifying darkness and fel energy?!"
The Sentinel Captain stretched her neck, her face flushed. "You… you're talking nonsense! Aren't those orcs demons' lackeys? We are fighting for justice!"
"Justice?" Arthas heard the word and suddenly laughed. "Your justice is letting the forest be corrupted, stepping right into the trap set for you by the true demons?"
Arthas casually threw out a large head. Its ferocious face was still full of disbelief and pain. The few elves present were stunned for a moment and did not recognize the owner of the head.
Only the Sentinel Captain's face instantly turned pale—she knew what that head was!