"Forget it, we don't have time to discuss such philosophical questions right now."
Xal'atath didn't want to delve deeper into the issue, and brought up their current trouble to divert Jaina's attention.
With Xal'atath's reminder, Jaina also realized that she had to first uncover the Demon Hunter spies hidden in Dalaran. "I need to return to Dalaran. Some of the work was handled by me, and my colleagues might not be able to manage it."
After a brief farewell, Jaina left the palace using a teleportation spell. Arthas glanced at the somewhat idle Xal'atath. "Since everyone has things to be busy with, why are you daydreaming here with me?"
"What?"
Xal'atath was stunned for a moment, and it took her a while to realize Arthas was referring to her. She couldn't help but laugh in exasperation. "I'm daydreaming here? Do you know that I've been handling most of the government affairs on your behalf during this period? Are you the King or am I the King?"
"You are my appointed Regent," Arthas stated, indicating that Xal'atath was his subordinate and working was normal. "Go and handle the Winter Veil Festival ceremony. If there are no substitutes for those magical props, then keep everything simple."
Xal'atath rolled her eyes. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Before leaving, Xal'atath suddenly stopped and turned around to remind him, "I don't think they will give up after one failure. Although it's hard for them to target you, the people you want to protect aren't that difficult to deal with."
She didn't want to see a second Sargeras, a ruthless existence, emerge in the cosmos due to the brutal slaughter of Azeroth's civilians.
Xal'atath still needed Arthas to help her deal with Dimensius, not to serve a cold and ruthless Death Lord.
Arthas waved his hand. "Thank you for the reminder. Go and busy yourself with your matters first. Oh, and there's no need to show mercy to those traitors."
Xal'atath smiled knowingly—she naturally understood what Arthas meant by "traitors." One or two Demons couldn't possibly sabotage the royal orders of Lordaeron, which meant there must be a few fools, either greedy or with their brains burned out by fel, who had defected to the Burning Legion.
Such things were not uncommon, and Xal'atath knew very well that the Burning Legion didn't just rely on force to destroy numerous worlds. Although most Demons were muscle-brained fools, many among them were masters of manipulation and deception.
However, the most troublesome of them should no longer be causing her trouble. With The Jailer's plot exposed and Sire Denathrius' disappearance, most of the Nathrezim chose to disappear, except for a very small number who remained within the Burning Legion, with unknown intentions.
It wasn't until Xal'atath left that Arthas slowly exhaled and sat down on a soft armchair nearby.
As he expected, the Burning Legion, upon discovering the possibility of starship construction, chose to create chaos on Azeroth. However, they also suffered significant losses in their last invasion. Most of the Demons stranded on Azeroth could not escape the joint annihilation by the Alliance and Horde. The remaining few were too insignificant to pose a threat and could only lie low, awaiting the Burning Legion's next invasion.
Thinking of this, Arthas swiped his finger, and the power contained in his fingertip cut a rift in space. After injecting a small amount of energy, a "scrying mirror" spanning the astral realm was formed.
The other side of the mirror instantly spewed out a pungent smell of sulfur, which Arthas isolated to prevent these energies from polluting his hall.
"Illidan, how are you doing?"
"How? Hmph, on the edge of the Twisting Nether, it's either killing or being killed."
The person speaking with Arthas was none other than the Demon Hunter, Illidan Stormrage, who had been sent to Argus two years ago.
However, Illidan's body was now covered in many hideous scars, and even the bat-like wings on his back were more tattered, clearly indicating that fierce battles had been commonplace for him during these two years.
"The fact that you can still breathe means you're doing well. What, isn't killing these Demons what you wanted to do?"
"I wish I could immediately kill every single Demonic crawling insect on this corrupted planet," Illidan sneered, but soon the sneer turned into a self-deprecating chuckle, "But I know, I can't do such a thing alone."
Illidan and a part of the Illidari were sent to Argus, where they established outposts to prepare for a possible counterattack from Azeroth in the future. However, doing such things right under the Demons' noses carried an exceptionally high risk.
Even with Arthas' permission, they had left some Illidari on Azeroth and Outland to recruit and train new recruits to replenish their forces. They themselves also acted cautiously within Demonic territories, but sacrifices and losses of control were always inevitable. No matter how hard Illidan tried, the total number of Illidari barely maintained a baseline and did not drop significantly.
Furthermore, Illidan himself was a high-priority target for the Burning Legion. After several failed operations, this Demon Hunter had no choice but to act alone to avoid causing more severe losses to the Illidari.
Although he was powerful and understood Demons well, Illidan had escaped danger many times. Yet, he also knew that Lady Luck would not always favor him.
"If you don't provide some substantial help soon, I can't guarantee how much longer I can last!"
Illidan said to Arthas with some anger. He had been defeated by Arthas, true, but he would not allow his life to be wasted in such repeated operations that caused no real harm to the Burning Legion.
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Once he was captured or killed by the Legion, a Demon of Kil'jaeden's level could easily learn the location of the Illidari's base from his soul. At that point, even if some small outposts that he deliberately didn't know about could survive, those scattered remnants would likely be of no use.
"I know your situation is dire, but since I've sought you out, it means the time is almost right—but your situation doesn't seem so good. Haven't the local resistance organizations on Argus contacted you?"
Arthas knew that a very small number of Eredar, or rather, the Broken, who resisted the Burning Legion's tyranny still existed on Argus. They had not succumbed to the Burning Legion, and with Illidan's cunning, reaching an agreement with these natives should not be a problem.
"I'm currently searching for the whereabouts of those natives—what do you think Argus is? Even if it's not in the Antoran Wastes, its surface is covered with all kinds of Demons. Furthermore, because the planet has already shattered, traveling from one Broken continent to another is extremely difficult in itself, let alone searching for bugs that even the Burning Legion couldn't completely clear out here?"
Illidan's wings fluttered for a moment, seemingly expressing his displeasure. "Last time, we did rescue a half-dead Broken from a Demonic encirclement, but he refused to speak about what we wanted to know… Those damned Lightforged, they didn't instill anything good in these people."
"At least the Lightforged gave these resistors hope," Arthas shook his head. He hadn't expected that even Illidan couldn't find the Broken chieftain, or rather, that chieftain simply didn't want to see Illidan?
This was not impossible. After all, in the eyes of Chieftain Hatuun, who deeply loathed Demons and traitors, even if Illidan wasn't a Demon, he was probably no different from one. What good could a person who dared to manipulate fel power be? Most likely, he was someone who would stop at nothing.
While this statement was a fair assessment of Illidan, it did hinder Illidan's continued establishment on Argus. If this continued, it would not be good for the implementation of Arthas' plan. Therefore, providing some necessary assistance was indeed urgent.
"I understand your predicament, Demon Hunter. Find a way to Krokuun. You should be able to meet the person you want to see there."
After saying that, Arthas cut off contact with Illidan. This method of communication could not be used often, otherwise, it would be easy to trace. Illidan was well aware of this and had nothing to complain about. Although life on Argus was precarious, he felt that one thing was better than on Azeroth: even if he died, he would die in battle against Demons, not in that foolish prison, scorned by thousands.
It was only a matter of time before Illidan's whereabouts on Argus were exposed; with such a large-scale operation in the heart of the Burning Legion, it would be difficult not to be discovered.
But perhaps it was the actions of Illidan and his Illidari on Argus that gave the Burning Legion's leaders a new understanding of the situation on Azeroth. Who would discover this anomaly?
Arthas believed it was most likely Kil'jaeden, after all, this Eredar lord was the true leader who formulated the Legion's various strategies. In contrast, Archimonde was a thorough man of action; if there was profit to be made, Archimonde would not hesitate to personally intervene and resolve the trouble.
As for Sargeras, this Fallen Titan probably didn't care about these "minor matters"—to him, the Burning Legion was merely a pawn to help him achieve his goals. His true attention had always been on how to prevent the real universe from being completely destroyed, and how to tame his Titan brethren.
Until the Burning Legion completely resolved the troubles on Azeroth, the Fallen Titan would not pay attention to how the Legion operated. Sargeras only cared about the final outcome.
He didn't care what Archimonde wanted to do, or what Kil'jaeden wanted to do, or even what the Burning Legion wanted to do. As long as his goal could be achieved, Sargeras wouldn't care about the process at all.
This was the arrogance of a god, and also the self-confidence of a god.
Without Sargeras, the Burning Legion was merely a small nuisance. Only when the Dark Titan commanded these demons was the Burning Legion the brutal army that made the stars tremble.
However, this arrogance gave Arthas room to maneuver. If the Dark Titan did not personally step down to command the Legion, then the voices within the Legion could never be unified. After all, the Burning Legion itself symbolized chaos and disorder. How could you expect these demons to behave themselves without absolute violence to restrain them?
Arthas had no doubt that Kil'jaeden and Archimonde themselves represented different voices within the Legion, not to mention that they each had countless factions of demons under their command, with distinct banners.
Kil'jaeden definitely wanted to get rid of Illidan, that scoundrel who had repeatedly made a fool of him. Not to mention that Illidan was now leading the Illidari like rats, scurrying around his territory, striking at the Legion's forces, and causing all sorts of trouble for his plans.
But Archimonde wouldn't care about Illidan, that "ant." He even enjoyed seeing Kil'jaeden make a fool of himself. No matter how much Illidan annoyed Kil'jaeden, it wouldn't affect the Legion's foundation, because Illidan wasn't his problem to begin with.
Just as Arthas had guessed, in the dark fortress standing on the Antoran Wastes, Kil'jaeden was furiously questioning Archimonde, "What exactly do you want to do?! Those useless Krokul are one thing; they still have their uses. But these little thieves who steal the Legion's power actually dare to run wild in our territory. Are all your subordinates incompetent?!"
Archimonde leaned back on his cold throne made of fel metal, ignoring Kil'jaeden's questioning. "That's your own problem. What does it have to do with me?"
"Enough! Don't think I don't know what you're thinking! You want to use that ant to undermine my authority? Heh heh, Archimonde, when will your methods stop being so crude?"
Kil'jaeden's large hand shook violently, and even the surrounding space trembled due to the demon lord's anger. "If Sargeras knew what you were doing, what kind of punishment do you think you would receive?"
The name Sargeras made Archimonde's brow twitch imperceptibly. Although he tried his best to control it, Archimonde's body and soul still involuntarily felt fear at the Dark Titan's name.
"Don't try to pressure me with him, Kil'jaeden," Archimonde replied disdainfully, but no one but himself knew whether this contempt was feigned nonchalance. "Do you think you're flawless? The losses you brought us last time you were tricked still haven't recovered to this day."
What Archimonde was referring to was Kil'jaeden falling into the trap of Sargeras' Tomb. Kil'jaeden, who had been tricked by Arthas, not only suffered severe injuries himself, but Argus also suffered a considerable blow.
At that time, they had already activated the Legion's war machine, preparing to deploy a large number of forces to Azeroth through the portal in Sargeras' Tomb. However, what awaited them was not the stabilization of the portal, but incredibly terrifying destructive energy.
Although the demons reacted immediately, things happened too quickly. Caught off guard, most of the fleet Kil'jaeden had gathered was torn apart by the power of the Origin Engine, along with countless demon soldiers and officers who died without a burial place, and even he himself barely escaped.
After that, the power of the Origin Engine roamed unscrupulously through Argus' shattered mantle, turning a large number of Legion facilities into ruins. The planet-shattering tremors also, not surprisingly, alarmed Sargeras. In the end, it was the Dark Titan himself who extinguished the last of the destructive energy.
Sargeras remained silent for a long time then, but the star-shaking power flowing through his fingertips made the already severely injured Kil'jaeden's heart pound, and Archimonde, who had been watching the show, also couldn't sit still. He hadn't expected Azeroth's counterattack to be so decisive and terrifying, causing the Burning Legion the most painful losses it had seen in tens of thousands of years.
Just as Kil'jaeden and Archimonde thought they would suffer the Dark Titan's wrath, Sargeras said nothing, disappearing from before the Legion's eyes, leaving a group of high-ranking Legion survivors looking at each other.
After that, Sargeras never appeared in the sight of the Burning Legion again. He seemed to have locked himself in the innermost area of Antorus, no longer inquiring about the Legion's situation.
Although in over ten thousand years, Sargeras had not been entirely oblivious to the Legion, this was the first time Sargeras had ignored the Legion after such a devastating loss and defeat, even leaving without meting out punishment.
Kil'jaeden also couldn't figure out what this Dark Lord was thinking, but he knew that if Sargeras' goal couldn't be achieved, the Burning Legion would be abandoned by Sargeras just like the worlds they had destroyed. So he could only continue his duty as the Burning Legion's commander, to avoid such a crushing defeat again.
"Don't think I don't know what you're thinking, Kil'jaeden," Archimonde snorted. Although he didn't like to play schemes and tricks like Kil'jaeden, it didn't mean he was truly brainless. "Do you think you're the savior of the Eredar? I think you're not even as good as Velen, that coward."
"You!"
"Put away your pathetic rage. No one but those cowards will fear your borrowed authority," Archimonde said coldly, as if he were facing not a colleague, but a mortal enemy. Power not weaker than Kil'jaeden's surged on his gray-blue body covered in fel scars. "In this universe, power is the only truth."
The Eredar Warlock stood up and looked at the core area of the Burning Throne, which was enveloped by energy as vast as a galaxy, a trace of fanaticism flashing in his eyes. "If Sargeras can't do it, then it means he's also an incompetent waste, only capable of self-deceiving tricks. I'm really tired of this situation."
"What do you want to do?"
Kil'jaeden suppressed his anger, although the veins on his forehead throbbed constantly, he still caught an unusual meaning in Archimonde's words.
"I'm not like you, needing to wait until everything is ready before I dare to act," Archimonde sneered. "Azeroth won't have a second Well of Eternity and World Tree to detonate. This time, I will utterly destroy them."
The Eredar Warlock cupped his hand, and an image of a blue planet floated in his palm. As he gradually infused fel, the planet shattered and disintegrated in his palm like a fragile glass bead.
Following a strong fel glow that made even Kil'jaeden slightly lower his eyelids, the blue planet symbolizing Azeroth had completely shattered, becoming grayish-white dust in the universe.
"Those foolish little thieves thought they could invade our world through the Keystone, but that's a secret treasure of the Legion! And with their souls, I have re-anchored Azeroth's location. This time, I won't hold back. After I strangle all those mortals, I will slowly savor the essence of that world!"
Archimonde let out a wild laugh. With the power of Azeroth, even Sargeras would no longer be his opponent. By then, he would be the sole ruler of the universe!
"Everyone, squat down, hands behind your heads!"
"Put down everything in your hands! Do you hear me?!"
As the basement door was violently blasted open by magic, and the heavy iron door twisted and smashed against the distant wall, a deathly silence fell over the basement.
A large number of Kirin Tor Battle Mages streamed through the door, quickly subduing everyone present, after which Jaina, her face like ice, lit up the Arcane lamps in the basement.
Under the soft light, the true faces of the people in this illegal workshop were revealed to Jaina.
However, Jaina froze at that moment.
"We have control of everyone in this magic workshop, Jaina."
Archmage Modera, having dealt with the people outside, belatedly entered the basement, and just as she was about to exchange information with Jaina, she too was stunned by the scene before her.
The basement of this outwardly magnificent magic workshop was a sizable handcraft workshop, but the items the workers were assembling were clearly not legitimate magical goods; even before they were fully processed, the faint dark green aura emanating from them was unmistakably fel energy.
But it wasn't merely these crude, illicitly energized goods that caused the two Archmages to pause; what truly stunned them were the dozens, even hundreds, of emaciated, ragged workers before them.
They varied in age and gender; there were youths, elders, and even children who looked no older than ten.
Due to prolonged exposure to this fel energy, their bodies had already developed various adverse reactions; Jaina's glance swept over them, and she immediately noticed that many people's hands and bodies were covered in fel blisters, and several workers' eyes were already cloudy and clearly had lost their sight.
The younger, stronger workers might have fared slightly better; aside from some life force being plundered by the fel and some minor fel burns, their basic bodily functions were at least still intact.
But the elderly and children could not withstand prolonged fel radiation; in the short time Jaina observed them, she noticed several children coughing up blood, clearly indicating that their internal organs had been corroded by the fel.
Facing the intervention of Kirin Tor enforcement personnel, these workers showed no intention of resisting; they seemed almost unaware of what was happening, each one looking dazed and soulless.
"It's fel…" Modera's brow furrowed with unconcealed disgust; she couldn't imagine that such a large fel workshop was hidden right under Dalaran's governance. "These workers have been subjected to dark magic and have been in prolonged contact with fel items; their life force is almost depleted."
"Bring the owner of this workshop to me." Jaina suppressed her rage, but her right hand, gripping her staff, trembled slightly from the force.
Soon, escorted by two Battle Mages, a goblin was shoved into the basement; when he saw the scene in the basement, cold sweat broke out on his green skin, and his eyes darkened, almost causing him to faint.
But Jaina would not let this goblin pass out so easily; the tip of her boot mercilessly kicked the goblin's thick belly, and the excruciating pain and urge to vomit made the goblin's eyes bulge like dead fish.
"Listen, goblin, answer my questions, or you will very quickly regret coming into this world."
Jaina's eyes flickered with captivating Arcane brilliance, and the aura she exuded caused the surrounding elite Battle Mages to instinctively flinch—Lady Proudmoore was always known for her kindness in Dalaran, and many new mages had received her guidance, but this was the first time they had seen Lady Proudmoore in a fit of rage.
Gentle, delicate snowflakes could also transform into an all-engulfing blizzard.
"I… I don't know anything…" The goblin trembled in Jaina's wrath, his fat, big-eared face shaking uncontrollably.
"You don't know? All these fel items are flowing out of your workshop, and you say you don't know?!"
Jaina almost laughed in anger at this stubborn, idiotic pig; she wished she could turn him into an ice sculpture with magic on the spot, but the most important thing right now was to investigate the source behind these fel items and what was going on with these workers, so Jaina suppressed her killing intent and continued to ask:
"Who instructed you to do this?"
The goblin boss, with a mournful face, knew that if he didn't give a satisfactory answer to the powerful figure before him, he would likely be thrown into the Violet Hold to share a cell with monsters.
But when he thought about how those who leaked secrets had died miserably, even though he shook like a sieve, he still insisted he knew nothing.
Jaina turned her head away, rubbing her brow, trying to prevent her anger from clouding her judgment, while commanding in a cold voice, "Take this idiot out for me. For scum who betray Azeroth, any means can be used."
If Dalaran, as a city of magic, didn't even have a few interrogation spells, it wouldn't deserve to call itself a city of magic; after realizing that simple questioning wouldn't yield the desired information, Jaina unhesitatingly prepared to achieve her goal through magic.
As for whether this pig-like goblin would survive after those interrogation spells were cast, that was not Jaina's concern.
"There must be some force supporting this guy behind the scenes," Modera said. "A single shop couldn't possibly cover up so many steps from prying eyes."
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"I know," Jaina sighed, "but there's still a problem: where did they find these workers? I don't believe they willingly entered such a black-hearted workshop."
At the Archmages' signal, the Battle Mages began to screen these workers one by one, but their investigation did not proceed smoothly; due to prolonged exposure to fel radiation, most of them were no longer lucid, and they were almost completing the processing work in the workshop by instinct, under the influence of magic.
"You… are you Old Hans?"
Just as the investigation was at a standstill, a young Battle Mage suddenly looked at the old man before him with some hesitation; although the old man's body was covered in fel blisters and even his appearance had become somewhat grotesque, the mage's powerful memory still allowed him to recall something from this face.
Upon hearing this, Jaina immediately walked to the Battle Mage's side, "You know him?"
The Battle Mage was still somewhat uncertain, "He looks a bit like the Old Hans I knew… but the corruption from fel magic is too severe; I can't be sure based on his appearance alone."
Jaina looked at the Battle Mage and asked, "I remember your hometown is Southshore?"
The Battle Mage nodded, "Yes, but I haven't been home in a while; the last time I went back was during Southshore's reconstruction. At that time, because most of Southshore was being rebuilt, I didn't pay close attention to the situation of my neighbors, but my family told me that Old Hans seemed to have gone missing when Southshore was attacked… He's a very stubborn old man, I guess he couldn't bear to leave his old house and didn't evacuate with the troops immediately."
After speaking, the Battle Mage cast a pained glance at the disfigured Old Hans, "Although most of Southshore's residents evacuated in time, the weather was truly terrible back then, and coupled with the Naga's harassment, some civilians still went missing or died. After the cemetery was rebuilt, the names of those who tragically perished and those who bravely sacrificed themselves were carved onto the monument in the center of the cemetery."
More than two years had passed since Southshore suffered its catastrophe; most of the urban area had been rebuilt, and the current Southshore was more prosperous than before, but Jaina had never imagined that people who had been missing for a long time during the chaos, and even presumed dead, would appear in such a black-hearted workshop.
She and Modera immediately sensed something unusual; if this Battle Mage had not mistaken him, then it meant that the masterminds behind these fel items had not just recently started their evil deeds; they had likely been active in the shadows for many years.
Jaina's expression became exceptionally serious, "Master Modera, you must know what this means."
"I will personally follow up and investigate the entire incident, Lady Proudmoore, please rest assured," Modera understood that this was no longer merely a problem for the city-state of Dalaran. "I will also inform the other members of the Council of Six. As for the Alliance, I'll trouble you to notify them."
"You should have received the report by now, Dathrohan."
"...Yes, Your Majesty, I am largely to blame for what happened in Southshore."
Highlord Dathrohan knelt on one knee before the throne, solemnly admitting his mistake—although he had long sent people to search for the missing residents of Southshore and offered many rewards, neither official nor civilian adventurer organizations had obtained any effective information.
The Kirin Tor had confirmed that most of the workers sent to the black-hearted workshop were refugees from Southshore, with a small portion being captured by slave traders and flowing into the Kirin Tor through the black market.
The Kirin Tor's underground black market was no longer a secret; at least most people with some information channels knew of its existence. After all, as the city of magic, its teleportation network was extensive, and even if the Council of Six wanted to manage it, they couldn't. So, as long as it didn't cross the line, the Kirin Tor tacitly allowed the existence of this black market.
And the background of the goblin from that black-hearted workshop had also been investigated. He came from the Bilgewater Cartel, and the current leader of that cartel, the Trade Prince, was named Gallywix.
When the Kirin Tor's investigation report was delivered to Arthas, the Council of Six was still searching in the Kirin Tor for everyone involved in the fel item trading process. Regardless of whether you knew what you were selling and circulating, anyone traced to be connected to this batch of goods was thrown into the Violet Hold by the Kirin Tor and imprisoned with the same level of danger as high-risk creatures.
"I didn't call you here to hear your apology," Arthas stood up from the throne, walked down the steps, and approached Dathrohan. "Where there's a will, there's a way. Those people transferred so many people; no matter how well they covered it up, they would still expose themselves."
Dathrohan looked a bit troubled, "But Your Majesty, it has been two years since the refugees were abducted. Even if there were any traces, it would be difficult for us to track them now… Moreover…"
Dathrohan did not finish his sentence, but Arthas knew he was referring to the fact that the area around Southshore was previously affected by heavy rain and a tsunami. If there were any traces of population movement, they would have been washed away by the seawater and rain. Coupled with the reconstruction efforts of the past two years, even if any traces were left, they would have been completely destroyed by their own actions.
Furthermore, they were currently unsure whether the other party captured a large number of civilians at once or abducted people little by little during the chaos. How easy would it be to start searching from scratch?
Arthas was more aware of this than Dathrohan, so he naturally called Dathrohan because he had a new discovery.
He pulled out a cold, bone-textured badge from his pocket. The bloodstains on the badge hadn't even completely dried, indicating it had only recently been delivered to Arthas.
Arthas flicked his finger, tossing the badge to Dathrohan. Upon seeing the badge's design, this battle-hardened Highlord's expression instantly changed.
"Valeera found this in the Kirin Tor's underground black market. You should know better than I what organization this represents."
Dathrohan's face turned ashen, "The Shadow Council… How is this possible? They should have been completely wiped out with the Old Horde."
Memories sealed for decades resurfaced. Dathrohan couldn't believe that the dark organization that had brought countless hardships to the Alliance still existed and was even harming the Alliance's citizens.
But the ironclad evidence was right before him: a Shadow Council member's badge. And this was clearly not a collector's eccentric hoard, because Dathrohan could still sense living resentment and hatred from this badge, the final wails of the innocent used as raw materials. It was clear that the owner of this badge had only recently acquired this newly made badge.
"Decades have passed; this Shadow Council is probably very different from the dark council of Orc warlocks you knew," Arthas told Dathrohan. "At least the slave owner Valeera hunted was a human stained with the blood of his own kind. It's clear that this organization's internal structure is likely a mixed bag now, but one thing they have in common is that they want to bring disaster to our world, and they can gain power from the innocent lives lost in the calamity."
The Shadow Council's reorganization certainly involved demons. Arthas even suspected that the organization's high-ranking leader might be a high-ranking demon who escaped the Battle of Mount Hyjal or was summoned.
The only good news was that they at least had a target and no longer needed to wander aimlessly like headless flies. Arthas said, "The Shadow Council inherits a large number of evil ritual magics, but this also means that their magic circles will definitely leave traces. As long as we can find the ruins of their magic circles, we can track their movements."
The Kirin Tor had already confirmed that the raw materials for these fel-contaminated goods required summoning extraplanar creatures through rituals, meaning that members of the Shadow Council must have used similar summoning circles more than once.
"I will immediately send people… No, I will personally lead a team to search for locations with unusual activity. I will not stop until these heretics are completely eradicated."
Dathrohan immediately made a military pledge to Arthas and rushed back to Hillsbrad without delay, preparing to gather troops to pursue the remnants of the Shadow Council.
After the Highlord left, Xal'atath floated out from the side of the main hall of the royal palace. She stared at Arthas and asked somewhat puzzled, "Do you already know who the real mastermind is?"
"Just a guess, I can't be sure." Arthas had some understanding of the Shadow Council's past leaders, and indeed, there was such a fellow with sufficient seniority and strength who was still alive.
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But according to established history, he should have already embraced the Old Gods… It's just that several Old Gods of Azeroth had been annihilated by Arthas, and he wasn't sure if this seemingly insignificant "minor character" had turned back to the Burning Legion and gathered the Shadow Council's followers because his patron had fallen.
Recalling Dathrohan was not actually for the Highlord to truly find the "Shadow Council." He needed to create a false impression that he had focused his attention on the southern part of Lordaeron, specifically around the Kirin Tor and Hillsbrad.
"The only thing that's certain is that this is mostly some kind of precursor to the Legion's return."
"That's beyond doubt. They've been lurking in Azeroth for decades, and yet they've let some information slip during this time." Xal'atath and Arthas largely shared the same view, but her suggestion was more radical: "Perhaps we can start with the Bilgewater Cartel? Although the goblin captured by the Kirin Tor didn't yield much useful information, I think there's probably a lot hidden within that cartel."
Xal'atath's lips curved slightly, revealing a deadly yet alluring smile, "Why not just round up the entire Bilgewater Cartel? I think that would definitely uncover a lot of interesting things."
The Kirin Tor's report had already shown that the source and destination of these goods were inextricably linked to the Bilgewater Cartel. Although they hadn't caught them with concrete evidence, judging solely from the fat goblin they captured for intelligence, even if the Bilgewater Cartel hadn't betrayed Azeroth, there were definitely many issues.
But goblin cartels were not like the Zandalar, who lived in isolation overseas and had little impact on the normal functioning of Azeroth. Although these goblins were generally not strong, the various businesses they encompassed had already formed extremely close ties with Azeroth's normal trade system. If a blanket ban were implemented, it could very likely bring unexpected shocks and impacts to the entire Azeroth.
Therefore, Xal'atath's suggestion was almost impossible to adopt, but this did not mean that Arthas was not going to act against the Bilgewater Cartel. Although it was impossible to abolish or eliminate the entire cartel, they could target that infamous Trade Prince.
"Since you're so enthusiastic, then I'll trouble you to go and talk to that Trade Prince and see how he usually manages his subordinates."
Arthas's words froze Xal'atath's smile on her face, "Why me?"
She wanted to see rivers of blood, yes, but that didn't mean she wanted to do everything herself—even she had to expend brainpower to plan things. Helping Arthas maintain the entire Lordaeron and Alliance was not easy work, and she didn't expect her own suggestion to backfire on her.
But she couldn't disobey Arthas's command, and besides, for argument's sake, she did think that investigating the Bilgewater Cartel would probably bring her a lot of fun.
—At least better than dealing with official duties every day.
Xal'atath comforted herself thus.