"Thank you, Arthas. The Night Elves will forever be your friends."
Tyrande formally dismounted her steed and performed a solemn ancient Elven bow to Arthas, who returned the gesture with the royal etiquette of Lordaeron.
"Prince Arthas, please withdraw your forces. Magic and cannon fire are no longer needed. The old debts between the Night Elves and the Burning Legion must be repaid by the demons with their blood."
Before leaving, Tyrande said to Arthas that the Alliance's help for the Night Elves was sufficient. At least for these past few days, the Night Elves realized that they were not fighting alone; there were others on this planet fighting for the same goal.
"I will have the main force withdraw, but I humbly request to leave a small contingent just in case, Priestess. Please do not forget, you are no longer fighting alone."
This was Arthas's final request, and Tyrande readily accepted Arthas's good intentions—when facing the Burning Legion, no amount of preparation was too much. Arthas's request did not make Tyrande and the Night Elves feel uncomfortable; instead, they considered Arthas to be thoughtful.
Upon returning to the Alliance's position, Arthas explained the situation to Jaina, hoping she could lead the Alliance forces to withdraw, as their mission was complete.
"What about you, Arthas? Are you not coming with us?"
Jaina noticed that Arthas did not include himself among the withdrawing members.
"I want to lead a small contingent to be stationed in a safe position. After all, no one can be sure if the Night Elves can truly solve all problems."
Hearing Arthas's reply, Jaina said almost without thinking, "Then I will stay with you."
"There are Archmages in the Kirin Tor mage contingent who can command their actions, so there's no need for me to withdraw with them. Besides, with Prince Kael'thas here, I don't really need to worry about the mage contingent."
Kael'thas was stunned for a moment, then gave a bitter smile. How did these two's affairs ignite a fire on him? However, although Lady Proudmoore was right, he had no intention of meekly withdrawing with the Kirin Tor mages this time.
"Lady Proudmoore is right, but I would like to ask if I can join the emergency contingent stationed here? The Kirin Tor mages can withdraw on their own."
Sylvanas raised an eyebrow. She whispered into Kael'thas's ear, "Your Highness, are you really staying?"
Kael'thas quietly replied, "Arthas is staying, what do I have to fear? Do you think he would joke with his own life? Staying at this time is not only a friend's support but also shows Quel'Thalas's attitude."
The High Elf prince's words silenced Sylvanas. Kael'thas was absolutely right. Although Kael'thas was the only prince of Quel'Thalas, Arthas was also the only prince of Lordaeron. However, was it too dangerous for the two of them to stay like this?
Thinking of this, Sylvanas could only sigh, "I will stay with you, Your Highness."
Among the High Elves, the ones with a say were Kael'thas and Sylvanas, so there were no other arguments. But the members of Lordaeron were different.
"Arthas, if you stay, we cannot withdraw first." Uther, for once, disagreed with his student. "At least the soldiers of Lordaeron will not let their prince stay behind to cover the retreat. If there must be such a force, I, Mograine, or any member of the Silver Hand, can stay as their commander."
Arthas merely shook his head at these words, "Teacher, although many people could fulfill this duty based on their strength and command ability, among everyone present here, I should be the one who understands the Burning Legion and the Night Elves the most."
As soon as he said this, Uther and the others wanted to retort but found nothing to say. Arthas's understanding of these matters, which had never been associated with human civilization, far exceeded their imagination. If Arthas had not brought them to Kalimdor, they would have even thought this continent was merely a legend.
Not to mention the existence of the Burning Legion. Because Ner'zhul was gone, the Burning Legion's impact on the Eastern Kingdoms was minimal, with only Mal'Ganis causing losses to the kingdom, and even most citizens were unaware of it.
Uther could only sigh at this. Arthas's vision and strength had already exceeded his understanding of a young paladin. A few years ago, he still thought Arthas was a leader of the younger generation. At that time, he still felt he had clearly seen Arthas.
But the facts told Uther that he had completely failed to see through this student of his, and even all of Lordaeron, and indeed the entire Eastern Kingdoms continent, no one knew how much more Arthas knew, or how many more things he was planning.
Lightbringer's gaze towards Arthas at this moment was somewhat complex. Previously, he had hoped Arthas could become the new leader of the Silver Hand, the new king of Lordaeron, but now it seemed Arthas was not merely content with these things.
However, no matter what, Arthas was still the crown prince of Lordaeron, and his student. Uther knew that although he was under the protection of the Holy Light and could maintain peak combat strength, he was already old.
After Archbishop Faol's death, Uther had been diligently refining and perfecting the Silver Hand. He hoped that when he, too, returned to the embrace of the Holy Light one day, the spirit and beliefs of the Silver Hand could be passed down forever.
Initially, Uther's best candidate in his heart was Arthas, but gradually, he felt that the Silver Hand was not a perfect destination for Arthas. His intuition told him that Arthas ought to have more important responsibilities.
That was not just the responsibility of being the King of Lordaeron, but a responsibility that transcended a specific individual or a specific kingdom. The further Uther walked on the path of the Holy Light, the more certain and clear this idea became.
Thinking of this, Uther no longer opposed Arthas's suggestion, "Alright, Arthas, let's do as you say."
However, before leaving, Uther found Jaina. He pleaded with this young mage who admired Arthas, "Jaina, please keep an eye on this fellow Arthas. Ever since he left the Silver Hand training courses, he's been like a changed person, constantly doing things that shock us old folks.
But perhaps we truly are old, haha. Jaina, I'm leaving this boy Arthas to you."
On the usually serious face of Lightbringer, there appeared a kind smile often seen on elders. Indeed, with a younger generation like Arthas and Jaina, they, the old people of the previous era, had nothing to worry about.
Although Arthas remained at the peak of Mount Hyjal, at least he didn't do anything extremely dangerous again. This time, the prince was truly staying in a camp far from Nordrassil.
Jaina held her staff, sitting by the bonfire, finally letting out a sigh of relief. "When you said you were going to stay, I was really scared. Thankfully, you didn't plan to deal with Archimonde yourself."
"Do I look like such a reckless person?" Arthas leaned against a rock, flipping through his Holy Tome.
"Who was it last time who single-handedly led troops to Northrend to hunt Dreadlords?" Jaina glared at Arthas, annoyed. Had the prince even forgotten when he had done dangerous things?
Arthas smiled at her words, not explaining much. Mal'Ganis, to him, was not a very dangerous enemy. In fact, after Arthas gained intelligence and concealed his power to ambush him, a demon of Mal'Ganis's caliber was almost overwhelmingly defeated by him.
To Arthas, that was no danger at all, much like dealing with roadside bandits within the kingdom. However, Jaina, who was unaware of Arthas's hidden strength, was worried about it.
If there was anything truly tricky he encountered in Northrend, it was only replacing Ner'zhul. But in reality, dealing with Ner'zhul didn't take Arthas much effort either, also due to the asymmetry of information.
Ner'zhul believed that the surface-level Prince of Lordaeron he saw was the true Arthas, yet Arthas knew exactly what kind of person Ner'zhul was, and was even privy to the weaknesses within his dwindling humanity. Therefore, when Ner'zhul allowed Arthas to walk onto the Frozen Throne to fight him, he had already lost.
If Ner'zhul had used the Scourge to obstruct Arthas's path, Arthas might have truly needed some time to contend with Ner'zhul, who held a geographical advantage, for control of the Scourge. Unfortunately, Ner'zhul misjudged the situation.
The Frozen Throne was where the Lich King's power was strongest, but how could it not also be the place where Arthas could most easily defeat Ner'zhul?
Unfortunately, Archimonde was not a character who could be dealt with so easily.
In terms of strength, Archimonde was top-tier even within the Burning Legion, which could sweep across the cosmos. As for character... Arthas wouldn't expect someone who had been intoxicated by power and willingly fallen into a demon for tens of thousands of years to have any sense of guilt. Archimonde and Kil'jaeden led the Eredar to join the Burning Legion even before the Night Elves as a race existed.
If there was any weakness to speak of for Archimonde, it might be his excessive self-confidence in his own strength. But the fact was, all life on Azeroth, including even demigods, that could pose a threat to this Eredar Warlock could probably be counted on one hand.
Moreover, if asked who could single-handedly kill and expel Archimonde, Arthas truly couldn't say right away.
He also wondered if the Old Gods still buried underground could do it—however, these four clumsy Old Gods were truly too inferior compared to the highly efficient Burning Legion.
These four simpletons had painstakingly operated on Azeroth for an unknown amount of time, and before they could even finish with Azeroth, they were dealt with by the Titans who arrived upon hearing the news. Look at the Burning Legion; not only were they incredibly efficient at destroying planets, but they even wiped out the Pantheon.
If it weren't for the War of the Ancients, and a certain unknown Orc hero's axe throw as he leaped into the portal, Azeroth might have already vanished from the cosmos.
Therefore, facing an overpowered opponent like the Burning Legion, it must be said that Azeroth was fortunate to have repeatedly escaped disaster at the Legion's hands after losing the Pantheon, its only possible reliance.
Those seemingly insignificant small characters and small coincidences were precisely the key to Azeroth's continued existence in its entirety.
"By the way, Arthas, after the war ends, how exactly should we treat the orcs?" Jaina used Arcane to manipulate the flames of the bonfire, shaping them into different forms in her hand. This was a playful way, and also a method for mages to practice control. "Although they did commit unforgivable crimes against humans, they also made great sacrifices in resisting the Burning Legion."
She had passed by the Horde's camp and had seen many orcs who were wounded or had died in battle. In the defense of Mount Hyjal, although the Horde had limited manpower, they indeed displayed considerable tenacious combat power, delaying the demons' advance for a long time.
The result was that the newly established Horde once again made huge sacrifices, which made Jaina feel very conflicted: the hatred between orcs and humans was almost irreconcilable, yet the orcs stood on the same front line as the Alliance, working equally hard for the fate of Azeroth.
The sudden change made Jaina unsure of how to view the Horde in the future.
"The orcs indeed made significant contributions to the victory of the war and made sacrifices; no one can deny that," Arthas put down his Holy Tome. "However, the problems between the Alliance and the Horde will not end because of this; that is also beyond doubt."
"However, I myself never intended to wipe out the orcs. They committed crimes and should live to atone and make amends, rather than simply having their race destroyed. If that were the case, what would be the difference between humans and orcs who drank demon blood?
As long as the orcs do not do anything out of line again, then I believe forgiveness is not impossible—perhaps saying this will make you feel a little more at ease."
Didn't Arthas understand Jaina's thoughts? She was simply worried that the Alliance might try to eliminate all orcs and Trolls while the Horde was weakened after the war, to prevent future troubles; and to crush such a Horde, in Jaina's view, was no different from killing unarmed women and children.
The current Jaina would not show mercy to orcs who became enemies, nor would she betray the Alliance's interests by committing a despised act of "betrayal." However, having her hands stained with the blood of innocents and heroes was something Jaina absolutely could not accept.
To some, Jaina's thoughts and actions might be considered "saintly," but Arthas also didn't want the people around him to become ruthless, insidious, and cunning extremists.
However, on second thought, wouldn't such a Jaina be more suitable to be a paladin than himself? After all, if the Silver Hand were to judge, they might also have the same dilemmas as Jaina. Otherwise, they wouldn't have chosen to imprison the orcs in internment camps back then, but would have executed them all much earlier.
******
Green fel rays wantonly destroyed the demon camp in Felwood, and low-level demon cannon fodder and soldiers, under such high-concentration fel impact, would be annihilated by the violent fel even if they were only slightly grazed.
The Eye Beam emitted by Illidan forced Tichondrius to dodge to one side, but the demon engineers and the portal behind him could not escape. After a deafening explosion, another portal and the engineers responsible for maintaining it were swallowed by the annihilating space.
"Damn Demon Hunter!" Tichondrius was furious when he saw the destroyed portal.
He was ambushed by Illidan while inspecting the camp, and there were no other demon powerhouses in all of Felwood except for low-level cannon fodder and engineers with little combat effectiveness.
Those ordinary Legion soldiers could not withstand Illidan's twin blades and fel magic at all; the Demon Hunter moved through the demon camp as if it were uninhabited.
What made Tichondrius most difficult was the several portals standing behind him. They were the Legion's guarantee for a continuous supply of troops, but they themselves were very fragile. After all, they were astral portals used to connect across unknown distances, and even a slightly violent energy collision would turn the portal itself into a high-risk bomb.
The engineers swallowed and torn apart by the aftermath of the explosion were the best proof. In such an environment, Tichondrius himself was restrained, but Illidan was wantonly destroying everything.
Of the demons killed by Illidan, a considerable portion of their souls could not escape the Demon Hunter's capture. His skills and techniques were almost all honed to specifically target demons, and weaker demons were directly transformed into Illidan's nourishment, their souls squeezed into pure fel, making Illidan's attacks even more incisive.
Tichondrius now regretted it a little. He hadn't expected Illidan to become so fierce after absorbing the energy of Gul'dan's Skull, and for some reason, he was still relentlessly pursuing him.
He should have dealt with this guy decisively back then!
But no matter how much he regretted it now, there was no way to make up for the past mistake. Tichondrius could only brace himself and contend with Illidan. After taking the potent medicine of Gul'dan's Skull, he dared not directly face Illidan's fel rays and could only keep moving.
However, when the last portal was also destroyed by Illidan, he stood in the camp, which was littered with demon corpses, and stared at Tichondrius with his black-bandaged eyes, saying mockingly, "What's wrong, not hiding anymore? If you're tired, how about lying on the ground and waiting for my warblades to cleave off your head?"
"Illidan Stormrage, don't be too arrogant! Do you really think the Legion will forgive your insolent behavior again and again?!" Although the camp was destroyed, Tichondrius himself was not seriously injured. It was just that all the portals had been destroyed by Illidan, making it difficult for him to report back.
Moreover, Illidan's surprise attack had made him somewhat flustered, and Tichondrius felt he had lost face, so he simply let Illidan eliminate all the low-level demons who had witnessed the truth.
Anyway, there were countless such low-level lives in the Twisting Nether, and most high-level demon races did not consider them equal to themselves. But now, Tichondrius was indeed genuinely enraged by Illidan, who had repeatedly ruined his plans.
Illidan also clearly sensed Tichondrius's gradually rising killing intent. He did not panic, because if he hadn't been fully prepared, he wouldn't have come to deal with Tichondrius. There were many Dreadlords weaker than Tichondrius, so he didn't need to specifically pick the most troublesome one to deal with.
It was simply because Illidan possessed something capable of defeating Tichondrius.
Facing Tichondrius, whose aura was gradually becoming dangerous, Illidan unhurriedly chanted a series of awkward and strange syllables. However, upon hearing Illidan's words, Tichondrius's expression changed drastically.
This was the Demonic language used by demons in the Twisting Nether! And the strange string of syllables the other party chanted was precisely Tichondrius's true demon name as a Nathrezim!
"You, how is this possible?!" Tichondrius was genuinely panicked this time. How did Illidan know his true name?
Knowing a demon's true name is of no use to ordinary mortals; it will not lead to a situation where one can easily kill or enslave a demon by knowing its true name. However, for an former Arcane user and current Demon Hunter like Illidan to know his true name, he could easily accomplish things that would normally be difficult to do, by virtue of the connection between the true name and his soul.
As Illidan's chanted name became more complete, Tichondrius clearly felt this "connection" being established. He furiously charged at Illidan, wanting to interrupt his casting process.
However, Illidan's strength, enhanced by Gul'dan's Skull, was no longer weaker than Tichondrius's. Moreover, he had first learned Tichondrius's true name from the knowledge he gained from Gul'dan's Skull. From the moment he decided to hunt this Nathrezim, he had already made preparations.
Destroying those portals was not just to provoke Tichondrius; a greater reason was to prevent Tichondrius from escaping through the portals. In that case, although Illidan would have a chance to kill Tichondrius directly in the Twisting Nether, the danger would also greatly increase.
Illidan was a person who never took risks, because he believed his life was meant for a greater purpose, so he would not easily put himself in danger. If even invoking Tichondrius's true name today couldn't defeat this demon, Illidan would no longer interfere in the conflict between the Burning Legion and the Night Elves.
Magic restricted Tichondrius's movements. His agile movements now became extremely sluggish, and he could only watch helplessly as Illidan used his true name to weaken him.
When Illidan's magic was complete, a strange sense of weakness surged through Tichondrius's body. The Dreadlord stumbled and knelt on the ground until Illidan's twin blades pierced through his chest and emerged from his body.
Demon blood splattered on the ground. Tichondrius raised his claw-like hand and placed it on the back of Azzinoth's blade, his expression becoming extremely twisted and hateful, "Well done, Illidan, but you cannot truly kill a demon, even if you are an excellent hunter, hehe… I look forward to our next encounter."
The damage to his physical body prevented Tichondrius's soul from remaining on Azeroth. Illidan tried to hold onto Tichondrius's soul, but after attempting, he frowned, only able to let Tichondrius's soul escape.
A power that he found familiar and fearful was protecting Tichondrius. He felt that if he had forcibly intercepted Tichondrius's soul, he himself might have suffered a backlash.
Although the camp here was destroyed, Felwood Forest was still considered a demon stronghold. Being injured here would make the situation rapidly deteriorate, so he ultimately had to give up plundering the Dreadlord's soul.
"Next time, you won't be so lucky, scum."
Illidan kicked Tichondrius's corpse away, spat, and then flapped his wings and departed.