Golden wheat fields rippled, and the breeze of Westfall swept across this fertile land, bringing with it the joy of harvest.
Although all civilizations on Azeroth almost mobilized the planet's entire strength to deal with the threat of the Burning Legion, in reality, only the most elite warriors had the opportunity to participate in front-line combat, which was also to ensure that various regions of Azeroth could maintain a normal state as much as possible.
Arthas and many leaders were well aware that Azeroth's stable logistics were their firm backing against the Burning Legion, so even though the front-line war had become white-hot, most production areas, such as Westfall, maintained production capacity not too different from normal times.
And with the gradual promotion of industrialization and magical arts from academies and research institutes to all walks of life, the Alliance's logistical capabilities have seen a double leap in quality and quantity compared to the Old Alliance period decades ago.
Crop seeds meticulously bred by Druids yielded good harvests, and could even, if necessary, be catalyzed by nature magic to produce large quantities of food in a short period. However, because this practice caused great damage to the land, Druids generally would not do so lightly, and using such magic to cover large areas of cultivation would also incur considerable costs.
Although in Arthas's view, Azeroth's production system still had much room for development and many shortcomings worth improving, for the many people living on this land, their lives were far better than they were decades ago.
The Faplon family were farmers who had lived in Westfall for generations. More than ten years ago, after this land suffered the ravages of the First and Second War, rampant bandits and frequent natural disasters once made them consider leaving their homeland, preparing to work in the core cities of the Stormwind Kingdom to make a living.
Fortunately, King Varian made timely reforms. With a series of political changes and clean-ups, along with the issuance of many policies beneficial to the recovery of people's livelihoods, their lives also improved day by day.
Although they didn't live in great wealth, years of hard work made their lives increasingly prosperous, and they had a good deal of surplus at home. At least they no longer had to meticulously budget every expense, or even consider traveling far away to secure the bare minimum of food and clothing.
"Old Blanche, look what good things I've brought you!"
Faplon walked into the barn with a large bundle of hay, threw it on the ground, then picked up a pitchfork, preparing to add fresh feed for his diligent old horse.
He hummed a tune, poking handful after handful of hay into Blanche's enclosure.
However, after only two pokes, Faplon suddenly felt something was strange. Although old horse Blanche was usually listless, he would be full of energy at mealtime, even more energetic than the younger, stronger cattle and horses at home. But today, the old horse ignored the hay Faplon offered, instead snorting anxiously in the enclosure.
Faplon pressed down his straw hat, leaned the pitchfork against a nearby post, opened the enclosure, and walked in, preparing to see if Blanche was sick and had lost his appetite.
But upon seeing Faplon enter his enclosure, Blanche not only didn't calm down, but neighed more agitatedly, even occasionally raising his hooves or pacing back and forth.
"Hehe, old fellow, don't be nervous, it's me!"
Faplon, having farmed for many years, knew this was a horse's expression of unease, but what he didn't understand was that the area around the farm was quite safe; wolf packs and wild dogs were driven away by special patrol teams, and their family also kept hunting dogs. If any dangerous wild animals approached, those hunting dogs should have started barking madly already... Just as this thought crossed Faplon's mind, a chorus of barks suddenly erupted from outside the barn.
"Woof! Woof!"
These were clearly not the playful barks of hunting dogs, but rather wary growls and warnings.
Faplon finally realized something was wrong. As he rushed out of the barn, he still clutched the pitchfork—he did have a hunting rifle at home, but right now, this steel fork was the only weapon he had at hand.
"Clang!"
However, Faplon's pitchfork fell directly to the ground. His domestic hunting dogs surrounded him, their bodies pressed forward, barking incessantly at the distant sky, and Faplon himself stared dumbfounded at the sky above.
The originally clear, azure sky was enveloped by a dazzling crimson, and even the sunlight was obscured by this strange celestial phenomenon.
"Light above... What, what is happening?!"
Faplon was just a farmer; he didn't know why the sky above had suddenly turned crimson. But when he reacted and looked around, he found that the surrounding grass and wheat fields were suddenly withering at a slow pace.
And when he looked at the red light falling upon the earth, he even felt a dizzying sensation.
No matter how dull Faplon was, he understood that these eerie changes all came from the red light descending from above. So he quickly turned back to close the barn door, pulled the still barking hunting dogs, and returned home.
By this time, he could clearly feel his physical strength draining at an extremely rapid rate, coupled with the exertion of running. He hadn't run more than ten meters before Faplon became breathless.
Fortunately, his house was not far from the shed. When he saw his wife standing at the doorway looking at the anomaly in the sky, Faplon anxiously shouted, "Quick, get inside the house!"
Mrs. Faplon, who had just come out of the house, didn't understand the abnormalities caused by the red light, but hearing her husband's anxious shouts, she realized the seriousness of the situation and quickly pulled her husband into the house.
But the ominous red light seemed unwilling to let them go, drilling in through every gap in the house. Faplon could only quickly close the doors and windows, draw the curtains, and take his wife into the indoor basement.
At this moment, he was very glad that when the basement was built, an extra staircase was added indoors.
When finally no more red light shone in, the Faplons lit the kerosene lamp in the basement. His wife asked in a panicked voice, "What's happening, Theodore?"
"I don't know... Verna, I don't know." Faplon hugged his wife tightly, comforting her, "Don't worry, we're very close to Westfall Garrison. The officers there will realize something is wrong and send rescue teams quickly!"
However, what the couple didn't know was that this sudden red light descending upon Azeroth didn't just shine on Westfall.
The entire Azeroth was gradually being enveloped by this red light curtain. From Stranglethorn Vale to Lordaeron, from Silithus to Winterspring, and even from Pandaria to Northrend, all living beings on Azeroth, when they looked up, would find that the usual azure sky had been replaced by this eerie crimson.
Even at the Suramar Astromancer's Observatory, the Astromancers discovered in terror that the celestial bodies that should have orbited Azeroth were obscured by this light curtain of unknown origin. They felt as if they had been excised from the entire universe by an invisible pair of hands, and apart from this crimson light, no other starlight could fall upon the land of Azeroth.