After a moment of daze, Jaina gave a bitter smile and stepped back half a pace, "Sorry, I... I lost my composure."
The person in front of her was indeed Arthas, but Jaina also understood that the dead do not resurrect, just as the destruction of Theramore was irreversible.
Jaina, who had by now experienced many trials and tribulations and gained extensive knowledge, quickly guessed Arthas's origin, just like Tirion. In fact, it wasn't really a guess, as it was the only possibility.
So, where did this Arthas in front of her come from? The answer was simple: he appeared the same way Gul'dan did.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Proudmoore," Arthas bowed slightly. "Although our meeting is a bit... awkward."
Jaina and he simultaneously looked at the surrounding ice. Jaina, for some reason, felt an uncontrollable urge to laugh, bending over with laughter, even tears streaming down her face.
"Haha, that's truly a cold joke! Haha!" Jaina straightened up, clutching her staff, but the laughter quickly welled up again, making her unable to stop.
Arthas stood silently by, patiently waiting for Jaina to finish laughing. She had been suppressing her emotions for too long, and this was a good way for her to release some of them.
Gradually, Jaina's laughter subsided. Wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes, she softly said, "A long time ago, I had this fantasy: you wouldn't become the Lich King, and I wouldn't have to get involved in all these things. The two of us would just be in Lordaeron, riding horses together, watching flowers together. It's a pity that now my hair has turned white, and I still haven't seen that day."
Jaina self-deprecatingly ran her fingers through her hair. "More than ten years have passed, and everything I worked for was annihilated by Garrosh's bomb. I gave my all for Theramore... even my father.
The people of Theramore admired and respected me for it, but I have never forgiven myself, because my father's death will forever be connected to me. I once thought I didn't understand him, but now I realize that I never understood my father."
At this point, Jaina sighed deeply. "I once hated my father, believing he would never listen to a single word I said, but how often did I not listen to his words?"
Having bared enough of her heart, Jaina finally breathed a sigh of relief from the pressure. She smoothed her hair, transforming back into the princess of the Proudmoore family. "Then, esteemed Prince Arthas, what brings you to Theramore?"
Arthas stepped aside. Frostmourne behind him was still guiding the souls of Theramore. "After being destroyed by the magic bomb, a considerable number of souls were trapped here. I happened to be passing by and prepared to release them."
"Frostmourne... that sword is dangerous, Arthas. Why do you also have it?" Jaina clutched her staff nervously; she hadn't seen the sword clearly before.
"Don't worry, I've removed the curse from the sword," Arthas flicked a finger, and Frostmourne obediently fell into his hand. "I'm a little... different from the Arthas you know. This sword isn't dangerous to me; instead, it helps me control the Scourge."
"Control the Scourge?" Jaina's expression was somewhat dazed; she didn't understand what Arthas meant.
"I am the new Lich King, controlling the Scourge to defend against the Burning Legion's invasion. Otherwise, the Scourge, without a master, would become even more insane and bring more suffering to the world."
"Insane idea... even the most dangerous mages wouldn't be like you." Jaina was at a loss for words. "But it seems you've succeeded. Wait, you said the Scourge would become even more insane after losing their master?"
"That's right."
"Then why did the Scourge retreat back to Icecrown Glacier after the Lich King of this world fell?" Jaina suddenly thought of this question.
"It was Bolvar."
"Bolvar? But... wasn't he sacrificed?" Jaina was unaware of this; Tirion was the only survivor of the Frozen Throne battle, and he had said that Bolvar and the Lich King perished together.
"He willingly became the new Lich King to imprison the Scourge. Therefore, he also had to be erased from history. These were all Bolvar's requests."
"Bolvar, he..." Jaina sighed, softly uttering Bolvar's name. The Fordragon family had sacrificed so much for the entire Alliance, and in the end, this great hero even took on such a heavy burden in a state worse than death.
"Indeed, in every aspect, he is a true hero... However, managing so many undead, Bolvar's way of thinking will also change. In any case, he might think about some things differently than we do."
Jaina raised an eyebrow; she certainly understood the hidden meaning in Arthas's words. This was actually an implicit warning to her and the Alliance to be wary of Bolvar, who had become the Lich King, as he might do something that ordinary people couldn't accept.
Seeing that Jaina had received his message, Arthas said no more. After all, he wasn't Bolvar, nor was he from this world, so he couldn't criticize anyone's actions.
Just then, Frostmourne glowed with blue light, and the surrounding souls disappeared. Arthas smoothly retracted the floating Frostmourne.
"Those souls... are you taking them away?"
"I'm taking them to where they belong. Remaining in Theramore is also a torment for these undead."
Frostmourne, under Arthas's control, vanished into a shadow rift. Arthas nodded gently to Jaina. "The magic of the focusing iris bound them here. If they aren't taken away, the ruins of Theramore will likely never find peace."
Jaina stared into Arthas's eyes for a while. Arthas met her gaze without hesitation. After a long moment, she finally sighed in relief, "You didn't lie to me. I thank you on behalf of Theramore's deceased."
Although Arthas was identical to the prince in Jaina's memory, Jaina couldn't guarantee that he wouldn't use these souls for evil purposes, especially since he had also obtained the cursed Frostmourne.
However, she saw no deception in Arthas's eyes; he hadn't hidden anything from her. Jaina's tense body relaxed.
At the same time, Jaina felt a hint of relief: he was still the kind prince of Lordaeron, the prince who cared for every resident of Lordaeron, and not the cold-blooded, cruel undead king.