Tick, tock.
In the gloomy cave, the only sound that could be heard was the dripping of water from stalactites.
However, deep within the cave, a terrifying presence seemed to be hidden; even without any movement, it exuded a dreadful sense of oppression.
Suddenly, in the endless darkness, the sound of chains being pulled abruptly echoed, the clanging of metal chains against the rock walls reverberating throughout the cave.
"Be quiet."
A cold, hoarse female voice spoke, and the owner of the voice seemed utterly unhindered by the darkness, as the sound of footsteps echoed through the cave.
It sounded like the clashing of armor, yet also like the ringing of blades.
Another deep, hoarse male voice, like one who had been without water for a long time, spoke up, "Heh, Maiev, aren't you bored? Is such a judgment truly worth you guarding for so long?"
Maiev's response was devoid of any emotion; she seemed to require no extra sentiment to sustain her actions.
"No, traitor, guarding you is my duty. Not to mention ten thousand years, even twenty thousand years, or until the world is destroyed, I will guard you."
"Heh heh," the male elf, called a traitor, chuckled twice more. Such conversations almost invariably occurred in this dark prison every so often.
He had been chained by magical restraints in this cave for an unknown length of time, so much so that he had lost all sense of time, only able to gauge how much had passed by his occasional conversations with his Warden.
Has it been ten thousand years already?
The "traitor" raised his neck, moving his somewhat stiff neck within his limited range of motion. His strong body would not age with time, but prolonged confinement still left him exhausted.
If not for an extremely firm belief and desire within him, he might have collapsed long ago, unable to endure this long.
"Save it. You'll never break free from these chains."
The "traitor's" abnormal movement made Maiev, as the Warden, extremely cautious. Although she said this, she knew very well what a terrifying individual was bound by those chains.
If her negligence in guarding led to this prisoner's escape, it would undoubtedly be a terrible disaster for her people.
The "traitor" merely chuckled, offering no response. He had already turned Maiev's reaction into a form of entertainment; as long as he showed even a slight intention of breaking free, the Lord Warden would become very tense.
In truth, he also knew that with his magic sealed and his body confined underground, even if he broke free from these shackles, he would be no match for the Warden Maiev, not to mention that in this darkness, there was more than just Maiev among the Wardens. Every one of them was a skilled fighter proficient in combat techniques, a seasoned hunter comparable to the elite of the Sentinels.
Such a cage, it could be said, was almost entirely prepared for him alone, which showed how much the Night Elves valued a weakened elf who was locked up.
"Hmph, they're all just a bunch of fools!"
"What are you saying?" Maiev hadn't clearly heard the prisoner's low murmur. Her long eyebrows under her faceplate almost knitted together. Lately, her prisoner had been more active than in the previous ten thousand years.
But none of this mattered. Maiev only knew that the Priestess and the Arch Druid had both left Mount Hyjal for certain matters, and she had to guard the dangerous individual before her even more carefully and cautiously.
"You'd best shut your mouth, Illidan, otherwise, I can't guarantee you won't suffer a bit." Maiev never gave her prisoner any pleasantries; she was tired of Illidan's behavior, and now, it was time to make him quiet.
Illidan heard Maiev's threat and let out a low chuckle, unconcerned. He wasn't talking to his Warden for no reason; he had truly sensed something, and he was certain that soon, he would regain his freedom.
Even with his magic sealed by his brother and his body confined in the underground cave, he could still feel the aura of those "prey" with incredible clarity.
This was unlike insignificant erosion and pollution; on the contrary, that violent, chaotic energy allowed even him, deep underground, to feel it with immense clarity.
Clearly, even the soil and rocks of Mount Hyjal had been tainted with the aura of fel, which could only mean that demons had already descended near the peak of Mount Hyjal, once again wantonly invading their lands.
This situation had been ongoing for some time, and his brother still showed no reaction, indicating that the enemy was rapidly polluting the forest in a way and at a speed no one could have imagined.
Illidan lowered his head again, pressing his body against the rock wall, hidden in the darkness. Maiev thought he had returned to his usual calm, but she didn't know that this time, the Demon Hunter was accumulating strength for his escape.
The cold winds of Northrend swept across the ice plains of Icecrown Glacier, and white snowflakes moved swiftly across the ground like flowing water.
Lothar ascended the frosty steps to the summit of the half-built Icecrown Citadel, the location of the Frozen Throne.
He walked to the center of the platform and looked up at the armor and crown within the massive ice block of the Frozen Throne, unchanged from when Ner'zhul was sealed within it.
However, now controlling this "communication tower" of the Undead was a living Death King.
In the empty eye sockets of the Helm of Domination, a spectral blue soul flame ignited, indicating that Arthas was transferring his consciousness here.
The Lich King's voice soon rang out, "I need a squad of elite Death Knights."
"Training has just begun; most are not yet ready," Lothar replied with some difficulty upon hearing this command. "They cannot handle overly difficult missions right now."
The Death Knights had only just begun their training; they hadn't forgotten their combat skills from life, but mastering runic spells and death energy still required a great deal of practice time.
If they were sent out from Icecrown Citadel at this time, their insufficient mastery would prevent them from cleanly eliminating enemies, and would instead expose the existence of the Undead Scourge.
Arthas was silent for a few seconds, then asked again, "How many can be used?"
Lothar thought for a moment, then raised a hand. "Five. Ogrim and I must also oversee the resurrection rituals for the next batch of Death Knights; we won't have time to deploy this time."
"Five? Five it is, that's enough. This time, you are only responsible for providing assistance." Arthas received a number much better than expected; he had originally thought he would have to continue to exploit the labor of the two old Death Knights.
Lothar nodded slightly. "Then there's absolutely no problem. Oh, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."
The flames in the twin eyes of the Helm of Domination flickered. "What has happened?"
"Anub'arak told me that his people, while constructing tunnels and cities underground, dug up something extraordinary."
Lothar's words almost made Arthas tear open a rift to the Shadowlands and return to the Frozen Throne. Was Anub'arak insane? He had clearly warned him not to dig indiscriminately!
Fortunately, Lothar's next sentence calmed Arthas's almost uncontrolled mind.
"He asked me to ask you if you want to send someone to Howling Fjord to take a look."