After leaving the temple of Ulduar, Arthas met the person who had been spying on them on a nearby peak.
"Odin, you could have just joined the discussion directly."
Arthas looked at the Vrykul elder with runes painted all over his skin; this was Odin's usual avatar, 'Havi.' As someone who had dealt with Odin many times, Arthas was very familiar with this avatar of his.
However, this avatar was slightly different from the one Odin often used in Stormheim, because the Vrykul in front of him had the one-eyed characteristic similar to Odin's true form. Clearly, Odin had put more thought into this avatar to appear in Storm Peaks.
Odin did not speak, merely frowning, seemingly still lost in thought. Arthas's voice did not elicit a response from him. It was a moment later that he belatedly spoke, "I have a question."
"Please ask."
"What exactly do you want to do?"
Odin stared intently at Arthas with his single remaining eye, and his question was somewhat unexpected by Arthas. Arthas frowned, a little troubled, as if considering where to begin.
Odin was not surprised by Arthas's reaction, because as an observer, he saw more. "You definitely want to deal with more than just N'Zoth, and there is no longer any existence on this planet that can threaten you, yet you have been trying to unite more power."
A brilliant blue light emanated from his single eye, just as it did tens of thousands of years ago when he did not trust the Guardian Dragons. Odin, naturally suspicious, was bound to ask this question.
Although he only had one eye left, Odin felt he was not so old and dim-sighted as to fail to recognize the terrifying aura on Arthas. It was the power of the Death Realm, which even he found frightening. In a place he could not see, Arthas had, by some method, stripped a god of his power and status.
"Although it's best not to answer a question with a question, I still want to ask you one thing. Odin, what do you think is the biggest threat to Azeroth right now? Is it N'Zoth?"
After saying this, before Odin could answer, Arthas spoke first, "Of course not. N'Zoth isn't even the strongest of the Old Gods. They are merely pawns and small pieces for a more powerful existence. Azeroth's true threat lies within the cold universe we are in every moment."
"The Burning Legion, rampant across realms, has destroyed countless planets, including many dark stars completely corrupted by Old Gods. Compared to the Burning Legion, evil gods like N'Zoth are as harmless as stray dogs on the side of the road."
"And on the other side of the real universe, the Dark Void is eyeing the entire real universe covetously. N'Zoth is merely a seed used by those dark wills to infiltrate the real world. Compared to him himself, the existence behind him is the true danger."
Arthas's words made Odin's brows furrow tighter and tighter as he listened. He had a very bad feeling.
This King of Lordaeron, possibly the strongest human and entity in Azeroth's history, looked up at the sky above them and said with a majestic tone that Odin could not comprehend, "I will make the power of Azeroth unite as one. The era when other foreign forces wanted to bring destruction and death to Azeroth will end. Next time, the battlefield will be in their worlds, their homes."
"And N'Zoth's existence is the first force to twist this rope."
"...You are simply a madman."
Even Odin, after hearing Arthas's vision, could only make such a comment. If it were anyone else, he might scoff at their wild fantasy, but when the person speaking was Arthas, Odin had to show the utmost respect.
"If that's the case, one wrong step, and all of Azeroth will be doomed forever."
He wanted Arthas to be cautious. "I will help defeat N'Zoth and his servants, but please consider carefully what to do after that."
"This is the result of careful consideration."
Arthas retorted unceremoniously, "Or are you saying that when there are no Old Gods causing trouble, Azeroth will remain peaceful? Will the Burning Legion tolerate two painful defeats left in our world? And the Void Lords were able to cast down the first batch of Old Gods; are you going to gamble that they can't release another batch of Old Gods?"
Arthas's aggressive questions left Odin speechless. Amidst the strong winds and blizzards of Storm Peaks, this Guardian's avatar could not come up with a rebuttal to Arthas's words, even as snow piled up on his shoulders.
Finally, the former chief administrator could only sigh. He looked up at the majestic palace amidst the distant, pristine snow. "Tens of thousands of years ago, because I did not trust my brothers and sisters, Ulduar fell apart. The result was that I was trapped above the sky, unable to intervene in anything happening in the world, only able to watch my brother die at the hands of monsters."
"Perhaps this time, I should learn what it means to trust."
Odin glanced at Arthas. They were originally Guardians appointed by the Titans, but they had failed to protect this world. Now, the true Guardians of this world seemed to no longer be these Titan constructs, but the children of Azeroth.
Although their ancestors might have been insignificant members of the iron constructs, now, their destinies were tightly intertwined with Azeroth, sharing its fate.
"Trusting others does not necessarily bring harm." Arthas's expression also softened, no longer so serious. "Before this, perhaps I should repay the trust given back then."
Arthas's right hand was vaguely clenched. He seemed to have removed something from Odin, and after that, Odin looked at Arthas with some surprise, "A curse...?"
"That's right, Helya's curse on you has been lifted. In other words, you are free now."
Odin looked at Arthas in astonishment, for a moment unable to react as to why the other party would do this, or how he had done it.
But Odin did not press the matter, instead silently disappearing from Arthas's sight.
Arthas could barely hide the smile on his face. Odin, in every world, was like this; he had clearly realized the error of his ways long ago, but due to pride and personality, he couldn't respond frankly.
Perhaps this chief administrator had long grown tired of the tasks the Titans had left for them. Over tens of thousands of years, they watched as the world they had personally changed and shaped was destroyed and ravaged by various evils, yet they were unable to intervene due to various restrictions.
Odin believed that mortal races were the children of Azeroth, existences whose fates were intertwined with Azeroth, but how could the fate of the Titan constructs not be deeply connected to this world?
Odin in another timeline had helped him back then, and Arthas didn't mind helping Odin in this world now.
Just as he said at the beginning, only by gathering all their strength could they carve out a place for themselves in the cold and dangerous universe.
Under the combined assault of the Alliance, large numbers of Naga were routed and fled back into the sea, while those trapped in the ruins of Southshore, unable to retreat in time, were cut down by the Alliance army within the ruins.
The Naga's blood almost stained the streets and alleys of Southshore red. The Alliance soldiers showed no mercy or sympathy for these thugs who crawled out of the deep sea, as most of them had personally witnessed how the Naga enjoyed slaughtering captives and civilians.
The Naga's brutality and sadism prevented even the most benevolent priests from showing them mercy; Dathrohan personally saw several enraged military priests smash the heads of a group of Naga with flails.
The war finally seemed to be over, and the natural disasters plaguing Lordaeron were gradually receding. The tide slowly receded from Southshore, and the streets previously submerged by seawater finally revealed their brick and stone pavements.
"You all take people to bring back our fallen brothers, and remember to also collect the Naga corpses; those Naga corpses must be purified uniformly."
Dathrohan directed his soldiers to undertake post-war cleanup. Among the Naga who attacked Lordaeron were many strange dark monsters, and even many Naga themselves had already embraced evil powers, their flesh and blood having become deadly sources of contamination.
And some Naga, knowing escape was hopeless, directly detonated the weapons they brought ashore. If the dark energy within those weapons was not properly handled, it would also cause irreversible and terrible effects on the surrounding environment.
Lordaeron dispatched a large number of Paladins and priests to purify the contamination caused by the Naga, to prevent Southshore from becoming uninhabitable wasteland.
As for the residents of Southshore who were forced to leave their homes due to the Naga attack, they would likely not be able to return to their hometowns for a while. Dathrohan speculated that the reconstruction work here would take at least several months before Southshore could barely recover some of its pre-war functions.
Looking at the devastated Southshore after the war, Dathrohan, who had been on battlefields for many years, couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy. "Since the Second War, Lordaeron's homeland has rarely suffered such heavy losses."
A prosperous town was instantly destroyed by magic. If they hadn't anticipated some news in advance, there would probably have been countless civilian casualties.
Fortunately, the war had come to an end, at least for a while, they wouldn't have to worry about the Naga anymore.
Just as Dathrohan was thinking this, urgent hoofbeats entered his ears. He looked down the still muddy road and saw a lightly equipped messenger riding a fast horse rushing towards his tent.
"Highlord Dathrohan, urgent dispatch from the Royal Capital!"
Upon hearing this, Dathrohan immediately got up to greet him. The messenger dismounted and handed the wax-sealed letter to Dathrohan.
"Thank you for your hard work."
Dathrohan exchanged a brief greeting, then tore open the envelope. He was somewhat surprised the moment he saw the content, as it was a personal letter from Arthas.
The content was also quite concise, instructing him to return to Lordaeron as soon as possible after properly arranging the reconstruction work in Southshore.
The content of this letter made Dathrohan frown. For Arthas to send an urgent dispatch summoning him back to the Royal Capital, it surely wasn't a minor matter. He grabbed a nearby scout and asked, "Has anything happened in the Royal Capital—if it needs to be kept secret, then never mind."
The messenger looked at Dathrohan with a bewildered expression, "Uh—the Royal Capital is all well, but there is one thing… it's not exactly a secret: most of my colleagues have been dispatched to various parts of Lordaeron."
Upon hearing this, Dathrohan patted the messenger's shoulder, "I understand. You go rest first."
-----------------
A few days later, the dust-covered Dathrohan finally saw the majestic walls of the Royal Capital. He didn't have time to rest, urging his warhorse faster with a squeeze of his legs.
As soon as he entered the city gate, Dathrohan saw a group of old acquaintances.
"Tirion, you've come too, as expected."
"Saidan? Even you've rushed back from the front line?"
Tirion looked at Dathrohan with some surprise, then he looked towards the magnificent Royal Castle in the center of the Royal Capital. "It seems this matter isn't small."
"The front line is basically sorted out, only some aftermath and reconstruction work remain. After instructing a few trusted adjutants under me, I rushed back at full speed."
Dathrohan pulled the reins, leaned closer to Tirion, and asked in a low voice, "Do you know why His Majesty summoned us back?"
Tirion shook his head helplessly, "I don't know much more than you, but on the way to the Royal Capital, I saw a High Elf convoy with the Sun King's emblem carved on it."
A High Elf convoy with the Sun King's emblem?
This didn't even require thought; besides the current King of Quel'Thalas, who else would be qualified to use this emblem symbolizing the Royal Family of Silvermoon City?
Tirion surveyed the streets of Lordaeron's Royal Capital. He had been in Hearthglen and near the Thandol Span for a while, responsible for establishing defenses there to guard against Naga infiltration, which was why he happened to encounter the Quel'Thalas convoy on his way back to the Royal Capital.
Even though it was just a chance encounter, Tirion already had a suspicion in his heart; Arthas probably didn't just invite Quel'Thalas.
The two Paladins walked together, passing through the bustling streets of the Royal Capital, but were hailed just as they were about to enter the inner city.
"Saidan, Tirion, over here!"
Uther waved to the two. The two, already accustomed to this, immediately pulled their reins, guiding their horses towards Uther's position.
Uther was not alone; the people with him were equally familiar to Tirion and Dathrohan: the two Great Knights of the Silver Hand, Gavinrad and Mograine.
"Indeed, you two have also been transferred from your respective front lines?" Dathrohan chuckled. Seeing old friends again after the war always brought joy.
Uther nodded, "Not just us, His Majesty has issued a call to most of the forces across Azeroth. We are considered representatives of the Silver Hand."
Uther's words made Tirion and Dathrohan look at each other: forces from all of Azeroth? What exactly did His Majesty want to do?
"Besides Alliance members, neutral forces like the Cenarion Circle, the Earthen Ring, the Pandaren of Pandaria, and so on, all seem to have sent representatives—the embassies and inns in the Royal Capital have been overcrowded these past few days."
Uther rattled off the names of many organizations, and with each one he mentioned, the solemnity on Tirion and Dathrohan's faces deepened.
Then, Mograine's hushed remark was like a bombshell dropped in their hearts: "I heard… the orcs also sent envoys."
So many kingdoms, organizations, and forces gathered in Lordaeron's Royal Capital could only mean that something extremely important was about to happen.
As the commander who had just concluded the War of Hillsbrad, Dathrohan suddenly had a thought—could the war he thought was over… actually just be beginning?
.....
In the castle's study, Arthas was busy writing and drawing with a quill, while Jaina sat idly on a nearby sofa, taking a break.
"Aren't you going to see your father?"
Arthas asked, his head still bent over his writing.
"He's probably entertaining some king or official right now, and it's utterly boring."
Jaina expressed that she had no desire to attend such a tedious banquet. She knew how crowded the royal capital's embassy was, and to accommodate the foreign guests, Arthas had even paid out of his own pocket to rent several hotels in the capital to provide them lodging.
Moreover, she was definitely going to attend the meeting later, so Jaina felt it was more comfortable to rest here with Arthas while the foreign guests and envoys were still at the celebratory banquet.
After sitting for a while, perhaps feeling a bit bored, Jaina moved behind Arthas, leaned against his back, and rested her chin on his shoulder, looking curiously at the desk. "What are you writing? You've been writing this since I arrived."
Arthas tapped Jaina's nose with the end of his quill. The tickling sensation made Jaina smile, and she lightly patted Arthas's back, turning her head to dodge him. "Don't tease me, let me see your work."
Unable to resist Jaina, Arthas handed her a few pages. "It's nothing much, just some ideas for new soldier training guidelines, organizational structures, and other strategic preparations."
"You're planning to expand the military?" Jaina took the papers and scanned them. "This… this is a guideline to be implemented across the entire Alliance?"
Arthas placed the completed part aside. "Exactly. Although we defeated the Naga, it also exposed some issues."
Despite the Alliance's current strength and deep foundations, capable of defeating even the Naga, who had the Old Gods backing them, this did not mean the Alliance's army was flawless.
On the contrary, the Naga's tactic of blockading the coast and attempting to sever Lordaeron from the rest of the Alliance members served as a wake-up call for Arthas.
"Weaker enemies would have difficulty employing such tactics against us, but conversely, when facing enemies of equal or far greater strength, such tactics would be devastating to us."
Arthas began to explain to Jaina, "N'Zoth has completely broken free, and we are about to face a powerful and elusive Void army. Their strength is sufficient to crush any single kingdom or race."
"Most importantly, N'Zoth possesses some ability to dimensional travel space at will, which you are well aware of. This also means His dark servants can appear anywhere at any time."
"And the Burning Legion even possesses the ability for interstellar teleportation and travel. Once such an enemy establishes permanent teleportation coordinates in our territory, it often means the fall of that entire territory."
Jaina was browsing the concepts Arthas had written down and was about to say something when she was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Arthas? Are you in there?"
Swallowing the words she was about to say, Jaina looked at Arthas. "It's Calia."
"Come in, sister."
Calia, dressed in a banquet gown, pushed open the door and entered. She was momentarily surprised to see Jaina greeting her, then chided, "You two are hiding here, leaving me to face the music out there."
"Haven't I already made an appearance? Besides, I still need to prepare for the secret meeting later," Arthas said earnestly.
"Alright, alright, you're always right, no matter what." Calia didn't want to hear her brother's excuses. "The banquet is almost over. What's next?"
Arthas nodded. "I know—Calia, why don't you go rest for a bit? There's still some time until the hour written on my invitation."
"That's a good suggestion, I really am a bit tired."
Arthas's suggestion greatly appealed to Calia. In truth, it wasn't just today's banquet; for some time now, with Arthas away, the regency duties had left Calia physically and mentally exhausted. She increasingly felt she wasn't suited for these tasks.
Decisions that Arthas could make in minutes would take her tens of minutes, or even hours, to weigh the pros and cons and finalize.
Calia was very grateful to have a brother like Arthas; he bore too much for the entire kingdom and family. Without Arthas, Calia couldn't imagine how much worse everything would have become.
Calia, no longer minding her lady-like manners, yawned, preparing to return to her room for a short nap, while Arthas also left the study with Jaina.
Strolling through the castle garden, Arthas gazed at the distant tall tower. It was originally an observation tower, but no one had ascended it for many years. Although its interior was still well-maintained, it had been left unused for a long time.
"You hid it inside there?"
Jaina also looked at the tall tower built of white marble and asked.
"To be precise, the space inside the tower is connected to that realm," Arthas said.
"Like most mage towers?" Jaina could roughly imagine that this previously unused tower must have undergone a complete transformation, though from the outside, it looked no different from before.
"Much larger than most mage towers."
In a corner beneath the tall tower, in an exquisite small pavilion, two tall figures stood. They also noticed Arthas and Jaina's approach.
"Good day, Arthas."
"Good day, Lady Tyrande."
The Night Elves' representative for this meeting was their High Priestess, though the Arch Druid seemed not to have accompanied her this time. Arthas knew Malfurion was likely in the Emerald Dream, helping the Green Dragonflight resolve the Nightmare issue.
At this moment, Tyrande's face carried a hint of worry. "You should be aware of some recent events. Is this also one of today's topics?"
"Of course, after all, this is also an effect of that matter." Arthas knew what was worrying Tyrande: the Emerald Dream, guarded by the Green Dragonflight, had encountered some trouble. Even though some reinforcements had been sent, Druids had been continuously experiencing accidents recently.
At the same time, Arthas looked at another old acquaintance beside Tyrande. Her striking white hair was exceptionally eye-catching even among elves, perhaps why she constantly wore armor and a helmet. "Lady Maiev, long time no see."
"Mhm." Maiev nodded coldly in greeting. "Have the troubles brought by the Naga been completely resolved?"
Although to outsiders, Maiev's behavior might seem impolite, this Warden almost always maintained this attitude towards everyone, and Arthas was accustomed to it. Moreover, she was only outwardly taciturn; it was not difficult to see her genuinely warm interior from the fact that her first thought was whether the Naga invasion had been resolved.
"At least for a while, they won't dare to invade the land again."
Maiev also realized something. She replied, "For a while? So… the matter isn't completely over yet?"
The gate of the white tower was tightly shut, having been untouched for many years. Arthas might even be the first King of Lordaeron to open this gate in a century.
At first, Tyrande was a little puzzled as to why the location was set here, but as soon as the gate opened, she immediately understood Arthas's reason for doing so.
A massive steel platform came into view. The tower's gate, affected by some magic, had actually become a passage connecting to another space. Anyone permitted by Arthas to enter would gather here; otherwise, they would only see the normal tower stairs.
"This isn't a sub-plane?"
The knowledgeable Priestess quickly realized that the space where this platform was located was not the pocket dimensions or sub-planes commonly used by mages. Standing on the platform, she felt no compression or discomfort from a sub-plane. On the contrary, she perceived the space here to be vast, even... more expansive than Azeroth?
"No, ordinary sub-planes cannot guarantee absolute safety, at least not completely conceal themselves from an Old Gods's eyes and ears."
Arthas certainly wouldn't create an inferior space like a mage's for a meeting venue. He directly peeled off a part of Torghast, located right within Maw, only connecting its entrance to Azeroth.
After The Jailer's death, Maw became completely ownerless, including Torghast. Everything within it became Arthas's possession, and he certainly intended to utilize this magnificent structure.
Jaina looked around with some curiosity. Although the world she was currently in looked no different from the real world, she could feel that every component here was different from the real world.
Everything in the Shadowlands is composed of Anima, and Maw is no exception. Although this Anima, when materialized, takes on material forms similar to the real world, their essence is still Anima. However, certain transformation processes are irreversible; generally, materialized Anima cannot revert to its basic Anima form.
"But why are there only four of us here?" Maiev did not see any other factions that should have been present.
"Because the meeting has already concluded."
Arthas's words left all three of them bewildered, until Jaina recalled Arthas's previous explanation of the Shadowlands's existence: "You mean... they've already been here? No, more accurately, once you enter the gate, time loses its meaning."
Arthas nodded affirmatively. With a wave of his right hand, the previously empty Summit of Domination suddenly became lively. Groups of two or three people gathered, engaged in intense discussions, yet each group seemed to operate independently, unable to see the others' images.
At the same time, a piece of information simultaneously appeared in the minds of Tyrande, Maiev, and Jaina, basically clarifying the entire story of the Naga invasion and the existence of N'Zoth, the true culprit.
Tyrande finally understood what those people were discussing. After seeing this information, it was hard for the leaders of various organizations not to consult with their peers.
"This evil god is currently hidden in some corner of our world. Unfortunately, we cannot let most people know too much about him, otherwise, the more they know, the more dangerous it will be for ordinary people."
Arthas added some supplementary information for the attendees: "But some of us must know about this, otherwise, when the Old Gods's clutches fall, most people will probably still be in the dark."
"This method is indeed very effective against such a terrifying and unpredictable enemy."
Maiev made a fair assessment. As a Warden who deals with dangerous creatures year-round, she knows how important it is to formulate corresponding countermeasures based on the enemy's characteristics. A reasonable plan can greatly reduce one's losses.
Tyrande lowered her head in thought, "So, the problem with the Emerald Dream also stems from N'Zoth? Then... what about Xavius?"
"He's just a three-faced lackey. After being sealed by the Arch Druid, this pathetic Satyr defected to the Old Gods, relying on the power the Old Gods gave him to proclaim himself the Nightmare King."
Arthas knew the Nightmare King inside out. In fact, in one timeline, he had personally put an end to this Satyr's plot. "However, his harm in the dream realm should not be underestimated. The Nightmare monsters currently attacking the dream realm are likely acting under his command, and his victories will pave the way for N'Zoth's arrival."
"Then we truly have no reason to refuse to join this war."
Tyrande replied with a decisive tone. She had risked her life to protect Azeroth from the Burning Legion and did not want to see the world ultimately fall into the hands of another evil force.
Her previous worries were only because she was still unclear who the enemy was and what they sought. Now, the information Arthas provided dispelled the mist before her eyes, and her arrow would accurately strike the evil.
"So, what was the final outcome?" Jaina was more concerned about another aspect of the matter.
Arthas browsed the information left by the visitors, "The vast majority of people agreed to join this war against the Old Gods. The few who were wavering were only because they themselves were not powerful enough and worried they couldn't handle such a great undertaking—but it's enough. At least all members of the Alliance, and even the Horde, are willing to give their all until we completely defeat our enemy."
At this point, Arthas's expression became a little more serious. He looked at Maiev and entrusted her with a very solemn tone, "However, there's one more thing I need your help with, Maiev."
"It would be an honor, please speak."
"I need Illidan Stormrage."
Maiev frowned, "That Demon is already dead. I'm afraid I can't help with that."
Illidan had died from his grievous wounds after his final battle with her. His Naga subordinate, Vashj, was still alive, currently imprisoned in the Warden's Vault in Aszuna.
"He's not an ordinary person. Physical death doesn't mean the end of life."
This immediately put Maiev on alert. "Is that fellow still at large somewhere?"
"To be precise, he should be fleeing in a hurry right now," Arthas couldn't help but sigh at Illidan's hard life. "He absorbed too much fel, so much so that he's more like a Demon than a mortal. And you should know that when Demons die, their souls are recalled to the Twisting Nether."
"His body should still be in the Warden's hands. With his physical body, we can retrieve that fellow's soul from the Twisting Nether."
"Excuse me, may I ask one more question, what do you want him to do?" Maiev always found this a bit strange.
Arthas paused for a moment, then spoke a sentence that utterly shocked both Tyrande and Maiev, "Because this Demon Hunter might hold the secret that can allow us to completely defeat the Burning Legion."
The Burning Legion, what a terrifying name.
Even Tyrande, who had personally experienced two invasions by the Burning Legion, couldn't claim to have completely overcome her fear when facing the Burning Legion—she had seen the demons of the Burning Legion cover every inch of space in her vision, a truly desperate sight.
Although Azeroth had twice averted disaster, each time it was at the cost of countless heroes sacrificing themselves one after another to protect their world; they had sacrificed too much, paid too much.
And Tyrande knew that the Burning Legion would return sooner or later; it was like a Sword of Damocles hanging over everyone's heads, and no one knew when it would fall.
Since the War of the Ancients, Tyrande had never relaxed her vigilance against demons; the Night Elves' abhorrence for Arcane magic was almost entirely due to the Burning Legion, as it was the misuse of the Well of Eternity's power that had brought them this terrifying enemy.
Ten thousand years later, the Burning Legion's second invasion further confirmed Tyrande's thoughts: the Burning Legion had never given up on destroying Azeroth, and given any opportunity, these bloodthirsty monsters would return to this world.
"To completely defeat the Burning Legion... Arthas, although you have accomplished many incredible feats, I still doubt the future you describe," Tyrande voiced her true inner thoughts.
They would defend their homeland at all costs, but to completely crush this demonic army that rampaged across realms, even the most optimistic person wouldn't dare to hope.
All planets targeted by the Burning Legion were like prisoners who knew their death date; everything they did was merely to delay the arrival of the final outcome.
Even Tyrande couldn't deny this point; they might defeat the Burning Legion once, twice, but the cruelest reality was that the Burning Legion could fail ten thousand times, yet if they succeeded just once, everything on Azeroth would turn to ash.
The Priestess sighed, expressing her concerns one by one, "The Burning Legion's demonic army is endless; with all due respect, our power alone is already stretched thin just protecting our world, let alone completely defeating the Burning Legion."
Arthas, of course, understood Tyrande's concerns, which were also the concerns of most people; even the Titan Guardians felt that Azeroth's power alone was insufficient to counter the Burning Legion, and this wasn't because they were pessimistic or negative, but because it was an undeniable fact.
Even if Azeroth's entire military force were increased tenfold, their numbers would still be far less than half of the Burning Legion's; the number of demons in the Twisting Nether was endless, and completely eliminating all these demons was an impossible task.
However, Arthas understood some key aspects of it.
"Who said we need to defeat the Burning Legion head-on? Competing in attrition with those supernaturally numerous demons is the most unwise choice."
He used anima to project images of most of the Burning Legion's leaders in mid-air, many of whom were old acquaintances: Archimonde, Kil'jaeden, Mannoroth, Tichondrius, and so on; there were also some high-ranking demons Tyrande had never seen before, but their inclusion alongside Arthas and these demon leaders indicated their status.
And the majestic figure bathed in flames, towering above all other demons, was the Lord of the Legion, the initiator of the Burning Crusade—the Fallen Titan, Sargeras.
The entire Burning Legion was like a strict hierarchical pyramid, with high-ranking demons at the top commanding the demonic cannon fodder below, while Sargeras oversaw everything, commanding the entire Legion.
"Their scale is astonishing, but this is also the Burning Legion's fatal flaw."
Arthas's words were almost a revelation, and Tyrande easily understood the reasoning, "...Although this Legion has conquered everywhere it goes, it relies heavily on the command of those high-ranking demons; without the restraint of those powerful demons, the lower-ranking demon soldiers would even fight among themselves."
She had seen many demons fighting each other for various reasons; chaos was the only constant theme in the ever-changing Twisting Nether, and these demons were dangerous precisely because of their bloodthirsty and berserk nature, which the Burning Legion's leaders exploited, turning them into an invincible army of chaos.
But this also became a point they could exploit—when the highest-ranking leaders were lost, the demonic army below would naturally collapse without needing to be attacked, eliminating the need to destroy all the demons.
And they had not been without success in defeating the Burning Legion's ostensible supreme leaders; at least Archimonde and Kil'jaeden had both met their downfall on Azeroth.
But soon Tyrande felt that this idea also seemed a bit wishful, because everything they did could not bypass the entity seated at the very top of the pyramid.
Sargeras!
Even in the anima illusion created by Arthas, the burning fury of this Fallen Titan still made Tyrande feel a slight suffocation.
As long as this Fallen Titan existed, the Burning Legion could never be completely annihilated.
"Can we truly defeat Sargeras?" Tyrande couldn't help but ask this question.
At the end of the War of the Ancients, the majesty emanating from that crumbling portal was truly despair-inducing; for a moment, Tyrande almost thought they had failed.
She couldn't even muster the thought of resistance—whether facing Mannoroth or Archimonde, no matter how powerful these demons were, Tyrande had never lost the courage to resist, but when a trivial wisp of Sargeras's aura crossed the portal and reached her, Tyrande felt only boundless despair.
That was an enemy far beyond their reach.
In front of the Fallen Titan, they were truly ants in every sense of the word; if he had stepped through that portal, it would have meant that everything they had done before was in vain.
At that most critical moment, a person not much taller than most elves, wielding a sharp axe, leaped into that abyss of despair, bringing hope to Azeroth.
This was the last memory of the War of the Ancients, a memory Tyrande would never forget in her lifetime.
"Well, that's a question for the Demon Hunter whose soul is still fleeing in the Twisting Nether," Arthas chuckled softly, not directly answering Tyrande's question. "Perhaps after that, you will look at his actions in a new light."
Maiev shook her head, seemingly disbelieving Arthas's words, but since Arthas had made this request, she had no reason to refuse; after all, if not for Arthas's behind-the-scenes machinations, the Warden would not have been able to track Illidan's whereabouts on that island.
"I don't really believe Illidan will do anything good... but since you insist on doing this, I have no other opinion—only one request: I hope to observe the ritual to recall this Demon Hunter's soul. If he tries to escape, or if his soul is replaced by another demon, I have an obligation to strike him down immediately."
On the Warden's Isle of Aszuna, the tightly sealed vault prison doors slowly opened, and a cold, damp current of air seeped out.
As the doors opened, the magical lanterns embedded in the walls on both sides slowly lit up, illuminating the path into the crypt.
"Please watch your step, the path might be a bit slippery," Maiev kindly reminded him.
Arthas nodded in understanding, and Maiev took the opportunity to glance at the silent Death Knights following behind Arthas.
They were all clad in black heavy armor, their faces also covered by helmets, obscuring their appearance, exuding a cold aura that kept others at bay.
It was Maiev's first time seeing these individuals called "Death Knights," and her keen senses made her clearly recognize what kind of monsters these Knights were.
Watching Arthas lead these Knights into the crypt, Nasa, the female Huntress beside Maiev, couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Mistress, is this really alright?"
The aura emanating from those Knights made even a battle-hardened Huntress like Nasa involuntarily feel a chill, and although it was Maiev's command, Nasa still felt uneasy.
"Don't worry," Maiev comforted her subordinate, telling her not to be overly suspicious.
She knew that there was a prison incident on Mount Hyjal once, and Nasa and a group of Wardens nearly lost their lives. After that experience, Nasa would frequently offer various suggestions regarding the security of the prisons under the Warden's jurisdiction.
While this did indeed greatly reduce the number of times powerful prisoners in the prison went out of control, some obviously excessive modifications gave Maiev a headache.
Arthas walked on the flagstone path built by the Night Elves, occasionally seeing some Wardens helping each other out of deeper cells.
Some of them walked with difficulty, clearly injured, but fortunately, some of the Wardens had previously served as priests of the Moon God Temple, and simple wound treatment was no problem for them.
Arthas frequently saw some Wardens being taken to what appeared to be treatment rooms, and Maiev and Nasa by his side were already accustomed to it.
Arthas asked, "This prison seems quite dangerous?"
Maiev, the Warden, replied, "Yes, almost all the prisoners and monsters here are of the most dangerous kind. Even with our complete security measures, the scene when some monsters riot is still very difficult to control, and many sisters get injured as a result."
"Are the dangerous creatures here not executed because they are difficult to kill?"
"That is indeed one of the reasons."
Maiev gave an affirmative answer. The Warden's crypt held a large number of dangerous creatures; ordinary prisoners were not even qualified to enter this magical prison.
Those imprisoned here were prisoners whose harm was difficult to resolve by conventional means, such as powerful Elemental Creatures and dangerous Demons.
These creatures were either difficult to kill completely, leaving remnants that would resurrect after a period if not careful.
Or death had little impact on them: like Demons, killing a Demon was merely sending it back to the Twisting Nether, and one day in the future it might still be summoned back to the real plane. Choosing to seal them, on the other hand, prevented them from ever having the chance to return to the world and cause trouble again.
"Then perhaps I can help you all? And also help the Warden avoid some unnecessary casualties?"
Maiev did not stand on ceremony, as this could indeed greatly alleviate their pressure, "If you have a way to completely deal with these troublesome creatures, then of course you can."
"Thassarian, take a few men and help Lady Maiev deal with the monsters you can handle."
After gaining Maiev's consent, Arthas directly had Thassarian take a few elite Death Knights to help the Warden deal with those troublesome things. Thassarian also understood Arthas's plan; some monsters were pure Scourges for Elves and other mortal races, but the Scourge might be able to "make the best use of them."
Maiev had Nasa lead this group of Death Knights to visit the tough cells, while she herself followed Arthas and the rest of the Death Knights to the deepest cavern.
Deep beneath Warden's Isle, in a grotto that no detection magic could locate, lay the remains of Illidan Stormrage.
This notorious "Betrayer" was now sealed within a massive fel crystal—in fact, the crystal itself was quite pure, but Illidan's remains constantly emitted powerful fel corruption, causing the crystal to have long been stained a dark green.
The self-sacrifice of this crystal prevented Illidan's remains from causing greater harm, such as polluting the surrounding environment or attracting monsters from the Twisting Nether.
Illidan had consumed too much fel during his lifetime; his body had long since transcended the mortal realm, and even most native Demons were not as "pure-blooded" as he was.
And the powerful remains of Demons were rare treasures in the eyes of many. Another duty of the Warden was to prevent these dangerous things from being taken by those with ulterior motives. The Demon Hunters imprisoned in the crypt were treated similarly; although they called themselves "Demon Hunters," in Maiev's view, those guys were no different from Demons themselves, and even if they died, they could cause a lot of trouble.
And now, she actually had to help Arthas resurrect Illidan... Truly, the world works in mysterious ways. Maiev stared at the crystals containing Illidan's remains, feeling a strange sense of melancholy.
Arthas waved his hand, and the Death Knights immediately began working on the platform where the sealed crystal was located. These Death Knights were absolute elites, chosen through careful selection by Lothar and Ogrim, and emerging as strong individuals after Grommash's brutal trials.
A squad formed by these individuals could even hunt giants, adult Gronn, Demon Lords, and K'thir, and other behemoths beyond the capabilities of mortal soldiers.
And they not only possessed extremely strong combat abilities but also received training in spellcasting techniques from Kel'Thuzad and his subordinate Liches and Necromancers, reaching a considerable level in the application of rune magic.
Lothar said that each of them was a weapons expert, a master of the art of war and rune magic.
And Arthas also wanted to test the practical combat abilities of these individuals. During the process of recalling Illidan's soul, it was very likely to attract various chaotic entities to snoop around, some of whom had an uncontrollable urge for summoning to the real plane.
When these monsters burst out of the Twisting Nether and saw this group of individuals, each with unique skills, and with endurance and fighting spirit that amazed everyone, as well as secret weapons like rune magic, they would surely bring endless surprises to these demonic creatures.
Fandral sat up in the wooden lounge chair, his eyes bloodshot, and his already gloomy face looked half-dead due to heavy dark circles under his eyes.
The somewhat dazzling light made Fandral instinctively shield his eyes with his hand. It took a while for the Arch Druid to recover.
"You should get more rest."
Vastann stood beside his father. As a Death Knight, Vastann didn't need sleep, but his father was still made of flesh and blood, and a few hours of rest were clearly not enough to eliminate the fatigue from long-term work.
"This research has just reached a critical point; I cannot rest yet." Fandral had no intention of resting, but just as he was about to stand up, Vastann pressed him back into the chair.
"If you collapse from exhaustion, the research will instead come to a halt—after all, it's hard to find another Arch Druid willing to do this."
Vastann forcefully made Fandral continue resting, and Fandral could only helplessly sit back in the chair. "The one you serve now can probably find a replacement for me, and also, if you want me to rest, can you please turn off this artificial sun?"
"Cannot."
Vastann was concise, and Fandral could only sigh in response. He couldn't bear to leave his son, so he ultimately chose to leave Night Elves society and come to this bitter cold land. He never expected to be appointed by Arthas as a researcher for a secret project.
They were currently deep within a cavern in Northrend, except that the original subterranean creatures here were almost completely covered by lush green. Large swathes of jungle, which would only appear in hot and humid climates, had completely encroached upon the cavern's original ecosystem.
Moreover, the plants within were not native Azeroth species; they were ancient vegetation from the orcs' homeland, Draenor.
The sunlight they now relied on for survival came from Arthas's handiwork. Fandral personally witnessed that powerful man use Holy Light to sublimate a bottle of Sunwell water, directly creating a "miniature sun."
Arthas contained them within a ritual, allowing this energy body, spewing Arcane energy and Holy Light fury, to provide light and heat for these plants deep underground.
And this sun had an even more crucial function: to purify and absorb the terrifying darkness behind this vast expanse of green.
That was the remains of a fallen deity, and also the culprit that corrupted the World Tree Fandral himself planted—Yogg-Saron.
Without the protection of this blazing sun, most of the cavern would be corrupted by the Old God's remains and residual blood. It was the Holy Light flames constantly absorbing the dark power of the Void and converting it into Holy Light that created a relatively stable cycle in this area.
And the organic matter, largely purified of corruption by the Holy Light, became nutrients for the jungle. The Primal Thornbeast seed, brought back by the Scourge from Draenor, greedily absorbed the flesh and blood of the Old God's remains and grew stronger with its wild vitality.
Even Fandral had to admire such ingenuity. The Holy Light sun, the Old God's remains, and the Primal Thornbeast—the interaction of these three created this green miracle deep underground.
However, Arthas was not an environmental ambassador; he needed to fully utilize the Primal Thornbeast and the Old God's remains.
The raw Old God flesh was too unstable, easily giving rise to a host of corrupted flesh creatures if not handled carefully. But the organic matter, weakened by Holy Light and processed by the Primal Thornbeast, was much easier to utilize.
The Primal Thornbeast and its created dependents possessed powerful vitality, and because the Old God's flesh itself had powerful yet chaotic activity, through the combination of these two, and after cultivation by Scourge technicians, they developed a unique type of bio-armor.
These things, born from primordial wild life force and the Old God's dark, chaotic power, were similar to flesh but could be artificially shaped and modified. The initial application of these things was to create prosthetics for Scourge members who were missing limbs.
Especially for troop types like Death Knights, who rely on powerful bodies for combat, it is not easy to repair their bodies once they are damaged. If they are repaired with overly fragile flesh or magic, it will instead affect the strength of their bodies.
And this bio-armor solved this problem very well. Even if a Death Knight's body was shattered beyond repair in a major battle, Scourge technicians could directly create a brand new and powerful body for him using this flesh bio-armor. As long as the Death Knight's soul was transferred, a perfectly intact elite knight could return to the battlefield.
Even more terrifying, discarded limbs due to severe injuries could be consumed and analyzed, reducing some losses, and newly produced bio-armor could even enhance the new body's resistance and strength based on the injuries on the absorbed remnants.
Under this craftsmanship, Death Knights are almost impossible to be consumed, because their souls are protected by Arthas, and it is difficult for any existence to harm their souls. As long as they can acquire new bodies in time, Death Knights will only become more elite.
Fandral was invited by Arthas to be the chief administrator of this wild jungle, both to oversee the Primal Thornbeast, preventing its excessive growth, and to optimize the forms of those plant lives, making them better able to meet the needs of the Scourge.
As for the Primal Thornbeast "kept" by the Scourge, it had long since re-sprouted from its seed and grown under the sunlight created by Arthas. It was quite satisfied with its duty to spread life and clear corrupted flesh, and now it would be difficult to even drive it away from here.
However, this does not mean that the Primal Thornbeast is without danger. Fandral realized the vast difference between this plant life and the common ancient trees of Azeroth the first time he encountered it. The Primal Thornbeast's life activity was so wild that even Fandral, a Druid, found it excessive.
If left unchecked, the mere existence of this creature would cause severe ecological damage to an entire region. The wildly growing alien vegetation would destroy all native flora and fauna, and the plants and animals consumed by the "living jungle" would be assimilated and absorbed by the jungle itself in another way, giving birth to even more powerful species.
"Those Death Knights Arthas took out… I'm still a little worried," Fandral suddenly mentioned.
Vastann glanced at his father, "Is there a problem?"
Fandral said, "That's a new technique, not yet tested in actual combat. No one knows if those souls, after being placed in new bodies and infused with so much knowledge, will still be able to integrate well."
"You worry too much. Those knights have already passed Grommash's test. Although I don't like that Orc, his strength is beyond doubt."
Hearing his son's words, Fandral smiled helplessly. Only he knew that he wasn't really worried about the Death Knights' strength. What he was truly worried about was whether he had opened a Pandora's Box that no one had ever opened before.
Amidst the kaleidoscopic sights of the Twisting Nether, a fragile, disembodied soul was fleeing at top speed.
Some demons noticed this seemingly vulnerable soul and immediately surrounded him with ill intent, preparing to make him their meal.
Under the demons' relentless pursuit, the soul was quickly cornered, with demons closing in from all sides. They rubbed their hands together, emitting terrifying laughter, already viewing the inescapable soul as their prey.
However, a dispute soon broke out among the demons.
"I found him first! He's mine!"
"You weak idiot, only the strong are worthy of such a feast!"
Such common arguments spread through the demonic horde, and they quickly began to brawl, intent on fighting to the death before fully devouring the soul.
Yet, the soul surrounded by demons seemed unfazed. He simply watched the chaotic demonic horde quietly, like a person awaiting death, resigned to his fate.
However, this soul was not truly waiting for death, for his seemingly fragile exterior was merely a disguise. Illidan Stormrage was hidden beneath this facade, observing the multitude of demons before him with a cold gaze.
"Strange… there are fewer and fewer powerful demons lately, only these low-grade ones."
While Illidan grumbled about this unusual situation, he quietly devoured the lingering souls of demons that died in the melee. Of course, he didn't pay any mind to this group of lesser demons, but it wasn't just these lesser demons who coveted his soul.
Kil'jaeden had dispatched a large number of demons to hunt down Illidan, and those demons relentlessly pursued Illidan's trail through the Twisting Nether, constantly harassing him whenever he paused to rest. Even Illidan was exhausted by this almost endless hunt.
the Deceiver was quite fond of this torment. He wasn't even in a hurry to recapture Illidan. Kil'jaeden, frustrated by his repeated setbacks on Azeroth, vented his resentment and fury on Illidan, hoping to see the so-called "Demon Hunter" brutally torn apart by the very demons who considered him their prey.
Illidan was unwilling to be manipulated by Kil'jaeden like a mere toy. He took this opportunity to gather and steal a good deal of intelligence about the Burning Legion, attempting to cause trouble and inflict damage upon the Legion.
However, with his strength alone, merely surviving in the Twisting Nether was already his limit. Even knowing certain information, it was difficult to act upon it.
Nevertheless, Illidan did not resent Warden Maiev for ending his life. In his view, all Night Elves were merely short-sighted individuals blinded by the peace before their eyes, and even his beloved Tyrande was no exception.
But Illidan also understood them, understood why they were unwilling to put themselves in danger, because only when one commits to this cause can one feel a profound yet powerless despair.
He had directly faced a portion of the Fallen Titan's power and thus clearly understood Sargeras's terror. From that moment, Illidan realized that Azeroth's current strength alone would be utterly insufficient to stop the Burning Crusade.
So he chose a path destined not to be understood, and Illidan did not need others' understanding.
While devouring the souls of demons to heal his wounds, Illidan still did not forget to organize the intelligence he had gathered. Because Kil'jaeden wanted to see him constantly on the run, he also had the opportunity to glimpse the true appearance of Argus, the Burning Legion's main base.
That glimpse nearly cost Illidan his life, but Illidan felt no regret at all, for he had learned some crucial things.
The most urgent task now was to use this intelligence to destroy the Burning Legion. Illidan had already had a preliminary plan, but after the failure of the Dark Temple, Illidan's forces were almost completely scattered, and he himself was buried on an unnamed island due to successive defeats.
If his predictions were correct, his body should have been sealed by Maiev, and his subordinates would likely not have the chance to reclaim his remains from Maiev's hands. This meant he might have to find a way back to Azeroth himself.
Illidan felt no discouragement at all. At least recently, the higher-ranking demons hunting him had significantly decreased, and now he was even encountering only these weak, lesser demons. He felt he might be able to try to escape Kil'jaeden's surveillance and find a place to make a comeback.
After figuring out what he needed to do next, Illidan bit down on the demon soul in his mouth, absorbing its essence, and habitually twisted his neck, though his soul form didn't give him the familiar sensation.
"I'll deal with these nuisances before I go… it'll be good for recovering from my last injuries."
He conjured two warglaives from fel energy in his hands, and just as he was about to step forward to finish off the remaining demons, a strange pull diverted his gaze for a moment.
This ritual is… summoning my soul?!
Illidan was stunned for a moment, but then he danced with joy, his two warglaives tearing the demons to shreds in an instant. In this brutal dance of battle, he began to cackle, "An Illidari actually recovered my body?!"
He had no doubt this was a trap set by the Burning Legion, because given Kil'jaeden's nature, he would never use such a method to trick someone he already considered trapped, and his senses weren't dull enough not to recognize his own physical body.
Illidan eagerly responded to the ritual's call. Under the effect of the magic ritual, the Twisting Nether in his eyes rapidly faded and spun, like a canvas losing its chaotic colors. At the same time, he also felt the long-lost, solid ground of the real plane.
But his joy lasted less than half a minute before this well-traveled Demon Hunter was stunned by the sight before him.
Mountains of demon corpses lay scattered around, and in the center of this sea of blood and corpses piled high with demonic remains, was himself, who had just broken free from the crystal.
He had returned to his body, but the exhilarating feeling of being in his element came and went quickly. In an instant, Illidan felt as though he had been shackled with heavy chains, and even moving his body became extremely difficult.
After discerning this strange power that restricted him, Illidan felt a strange familiarity. He immediately flew into a rage:
"Arthas!"
"It seems I did indeed retrieve Illidan's soul." Arthas couldn't help but lightly clap for Illidan's keen perception, and Maiev, who was beside him, also lowered her raised warglaive at this moment.
"I never provoked you. What exactly do you want?" Illidan's expression was quite grim. He had never expected that the one who would summon his soul back to Azeroth would be Arthas.
He wasn't afraid of being misunderstood, but he didn't want to die meaninglessly because of being misunderstood. Arthas was not Maiev; if he wanted to, he had the ability to destroy his soul.
Compared to the feigned compliance he showed when facing Kil'jaeden, for Illidan, this was the true desperate situation.
"Hey, listen, I'm not like those demons. You should know that."
Illidan knew of Arthas's deeds and how he had escaped the Legion Lord's schemes, even turning the tables on those demons and manipulating them. He didn't believe such a person would be foolish enough to think he had truly joined the Legion.
However, before Arthas could speak, Maiev interjected, "During the War of the Ancients, every traitor who joined the Burning Legion said the same thing when I captured them."
Though Illidan's name wasn't mentioned, he wasn't a fool. That madwoman Maiev was implying that he was no different from those corrupted individuals who had joined the Legion.
What terrified Illidan even more was that Arthas seemed to take Maiev's words seriously. "Indeed, I've already seen this fellow's soul. It's not much different from the demonic creatures in the Twisting Nether… Hmm, perhaps, as we discussed earlier, it would be better to completely eliminate this fellow."
"Wait!"
Illidan was sweating profusely. "You went to all this trouble to pull me out of the Twisting Nether just to kill me completely? How is it that you seem to want me to die a quicker death than Kil'jaeden?"
"The sargerite keystone should already be in your hands, right?! I have what you want here!"
To prevent the intelligence he had gathered from vanishing with his death, Illidan finally chose to reveal some of his bargaining chips.
"What I want?" Arthas smiled slightly, but to Illidan, that smile was incredibly chilling.
Facing Arthas, Illidan felt an unprecedented pressure, just like that time he faced Kil'jaeden… No! It was an even more terrifying oppressive feeling.
One must know that ordinary magic simply couldn't penetrate a Demon Hunter's skin. To counter the endless magical abilities of demons, Illidan had, of course, chosen the optimal solution for Demon Hunters.
And now, Illidan's powerful physique, infused with fel energy, was effortlessly restrained in place by Arthas. What was more, his extraordinary perceptive abilities could detect a power far exceeding that of dragons, hidden beneath Arthas's ordinary human exterior.
Illidan didn't consider himself weak. At the very least, he was completely unafraid of most of the Burning Legion's lords; only a select few made him feel an insurmountable chasm between them.
"You've always wanted to resolve the Burning Legion's hidden dangers, haven't you? My soul was previously trapped in the Twisting Nether, and because of that, I obtained a lot of important intelligence. This knowledge cannot be learned on Azeroth."
"If I kill you, I can still obtain the knowledge I want from your soul."
Arthas, however, was completely indifferent to Illidan's bait. He knew Illidan wanted to bargain with him, because Illidan was not a complacent person. While it was true that Illidan held a deep-seated hatred for the Burning Legion, what Illidan desired even more was to personally destroy the Burning Legion.
For this, he could do anything, even if those actions were considered heinous crimes in the eyes of the people of Azeroth.
As Arthas expected, when he firmly rejected Illidan's proposal, Illidan's expression immediately darkened. "Then I will make my soul self-destruct. You won't get anything."
Illidan was quite confident about this. After spending a precarious period in the Twisting Nether, he had to consider how he would end his life if he fell into the hands of the Burning Legion. So, he devised a method that would allow him to commit suicide even if he was captured by a demon of Kil'jaeden's caliber.
He just hadn't expected that this ability might have to be used at such a moment.
Just as Illidan was preparing to end his own life, he suddenly felt his limbs loosen, and control of his body returned to him.
"You?"
Now Illidan was truly confused. He didn't understand why Arthas, who had been so aggressive just moments ago, had suddenly released him so easily.
Arthas naturally wouldn't explain this to Illidan. He simply turned his head and met Maiev's gaze. The Warden silently nodded.
"Nasa."
"Yes, Mistress."
A female hunter approached, carrying two heavy warblades emitting a dark green fel aura. Arthas picked up the pair of warblades, tossed them gently, and returned them to their former owner.
After catching the Twin Blades of Azzinoth steadily, Illidan looked at Arthas with a complicated expression. "Are you testing me?"
"No, I actually very much wanted to get rid of you, you treacherous fellow," Arthas said calmly. "But seeing as you allowed us to obtain the sargerite keystone, you now have another chance."
"Then perhaps you should have just killed me." Illidan's lips curled, revealing his shark-like teeth.
"Someone will do that for me," Arthas said. "Perhaps the Burning Legion's demons would be very happy to?"
Illidan's brow furrowed, then relaxed. "You want me to help you establish a foothold in the demon's world?"
Arthas ignored Illidan's probing and simply continued, "You and your Demon Hunters need a place to utilize your specialties, but that place shouldn't be Azeroth, as there aren't many demons left for you to kill here."
"I see that too." Illidan glanced at the demon corpses on the ground. He could imagine how miserably these demons, who had stumbled into the ritual, had died. Azeroth indeed already possessed the strength to defend itself.
Although those powers seemed less than "righteous."
Illidan's spectral sight allowed him to clearly see the several ice-blue figures hidden in the darkness of the vault. And judging by the aura emanating from them, these demons must have been slaughtered by them.
"However, just me and the Illidari, going to the Legion's world at this time would be suicide."
He had originally wanted to continue fighting the Legion, but with just the Illidari as a single force, trying to contend with the entire Burning Legion was a fantasy. Therefore, he had to obtain some aid and supplies on Azeroth.
"You don't need to worry about that problem."
-----------------
A Demon Hunter awoke from his slumber. He moved his stiff body, trying to ascertain his surroundings—he should have been captured by the Wardens, so what was happening now?
But soon, he realized he wasn't alone. All around him were fellow Demon Hunters who had just been released from imprisonment.
Even more surprising, among the crowd, they saw their revered leader—Lord Illidan!
"Lord Illidan, did you save us?!" some of the Demon Hunters shouted fanatically.
Illidan frowned and slapped one of the most boisterous subordinates to the ground. "Fools, have you been locked up too long? Are your brains addled?"
The Demon Hunter on the ground quickly got up. He had no complaints, but the slap did indeed calm his mind.
Another, more rational group of Demon Hunters cautiously asked, "Excuse me, where are we, Lord Illidan?"
"Hmph, welcome to hell, recruits."
Illidan grinned, looking up at the green halo in the sky, stained with fel energy.
He had finally set foot on the source of it all—Argus!
"Perhaps you'll feel a little more at ease now, Lady Maiev?"
Maiev's expression was hidden by her helmet, but Arthas guessed that the Warden was probably still wearing that same cold, expressionless look.
"That fellow looks like a demon no matter how you look at him."
Maiev replied, but she paused for a moment and added, "The only thing that doesn't resemble a demon is his unwillingness to be controlled by anyone."
Half of Arthas's actions just now were to curb Illidan's self-willed style; after all, that Demon Hunter would never submit to anyone. He only believed in what he could achieve on his own.
By displaying power that could easily crush Illidan, he ensured that Illidan wouldn't harbor other intentions, and at the same time, made him abandon his plans to cause trouble on Azeroth. Then, using the sargerite keystone to send him to Argus, this move was essentially complete.
The other half was to reassure Maiev and the entire Night Elves about such an action—Illidan was already infamous throughout the elven community. Although there were still many loyal followers willing to serve him, the vast majority viewed him as a madman and a traitor.
And a hunter like Maiev, who had been entangled with Illidan for ten thousand years, would certainly not believe that Illidan would do anything beneficial for Azeroth. However, Illidan's performance just now also made Maiev realize one thing: that madman would absolutely not join the Burning Legion.
Even though Arthas had easily controlled him just now, with his life and death hanging on Arthas's whim, Illidan had no intention of submitting at all—the demons of the Burning Legion didn't have such integrity. Most demons wouldn't mind switching to a stronger master; they served the Burning Legion simply because it was hard to find a stronger being than Sargeras in the entire universe.
In the past, Maiev had also encountered some unyielding demons, but that was because the Warden had no way to deal with these demons. Those demons also looked down on the Warden's power, believing that at worst they would return to the Twisting Nether after death and seek revenge when the time was right.
"How do you plan to deal with the bodies of those demons?"
Maiev thought of the demon horde indiscriminately slaughtered by the Death Knight. Among the demons attracted by the ritual to summon Illidan's soul, there were many powerful beings, but whether powerful or weak, their ultimate fate was the same: death.
"I will take these demon remains. Their sacrifice has provided us with much useful material for studying demon weaknesses."
Maiev slightly opened her mouth, but in the end, the warning "be careful" was not spoken, because she thought that Arthas must have done many things more dangerous than this… this one shouldn't make much difference.
This time, Arthas misunderstood. "If the Warden needs any of these materials, you can take some freely; there are many, after all."
Maiev originally wanted to refuse. Although many parts and materials from demons could be made into weapons or tools against demons, the Warden had barely contributed anything to this harvest. She felt a bit awkward about taking something for nothing.
However, the list of materials Arthas offered was simply too generous, and since Arthas had offered first, Maiev ultimately couldn't resist the temptation and took a portion of the materials.
"Thank you for your help. If you ever need me or the Warden, please don't hesitate to ask."
As Maiev sent her subordinates to collect the materials back to the warehouse and was thanking Arthas, a violent tremor spread throughout the entire vault.
Maiev and Onyxia steadied themselves in the tremor with their agile movements, while Arthas stood firmly in place, unaffected in the slightest, and turned his head to look in one direction.
"Such strong elemental vibrations. It seems Thassarian and his team have run into a tough opponent?"
By the time they arrived at the source of the tremor, a group of Death Knights, led by Thassarian, were finishing up with a pile of rubble. White smoke was still rising from the stacked stones, like coal extinguished by cold water.
"Ashgolem…"
Maiev looked at the specially constructed prison cell, which was in a terrible mess. She didn't care about the precious magical tools destroyed by the impact; she was more concerned about the troublesome prisoner held in that cell—Ashgolem.
Ashgolem was one of Ragnaros's lieutenants, a lava giant almost the size of a small mountain. Although the Warden had managed to capture Ashgolem, who had been setting fires in the forest, they had no way to completely eliminate him.
Finally, Maiev decided to build an ice prison equipped with special counter-mechanisms to suppress the lava giant's activity. As she expected, the low temperature put the beast into slumber, and the Warden could breathe a sigh of relief, no longer having to worry about him burning down forests and towns again.
Thassarian quickly walked up to Arthas. There were some scorched marks on his runic plate armor. His tone, though as cold as usual, carried a hint of guilt when he spoke, "I apologize, Your Majesty. This monster was not on the cleanup list, but it suddenly went mad. To avoid unnecessary trouble, we had no choice but to deal with him by force."
"There was no problem with the ice prison's temperature. Logically, he shouldn't have woken up," Maiev checked the magical tools damaged in the impact and found that at least before the explosion, these items were functioning normally.
Ashgolem had been imprisoned for a considerable period. Since the Warden found a way to suppress him with low temperatures, there had been no further incidents. Today's riot was the first of its kind.
If Arthas's Death Knights hadn't been here, these knights, who happened to be skilled in frost magic, formed a great counter to this lava giant. The Warden's forces alone would probably have had to pay a certain price to re-suppress this monster.
Such an unusual situation made Maiev suspicious. As an experienced Warden, years of accumulation and experience made her sense that something was amiss.
She quickly asked Thassarian, "Did that lava giant say anything during the battle?"
Thassarian paused for a moment, then quickly retrieved a bunch of languages he couldn't understand from his soul and read them out stiffly.
After hearing the strangely pronounced syllables, Maiev immediately said, "This is an ancient language used by elementals. It roughly means: 'Ragnaros is summoning me'—could this lava giant's awakening be related to Ragnaros?"
Just as Maiev was speculating, Arthas's expression suddenly changed. He took out a remarkably miniature black dragon scale from a hidden layer of his clothing, and this dragon scale was covered in hideous red patterns.
This was a communication tool left by Onyxia, and when the dragon scale was covered in dazzling red patterns, it indicated that one of the holders was in a life-or-death crisis.