From morning until noon, over two thousand high elf refugees were found in Silvermoon Woods.
However, fewer than five hundred were willing to settle in Lordaeron. One could say they were reluctant to leave their homeland, or perhaps they didn't want to be cowards when their home was destroyed.
But as it stands, without enough troops to clear out the undead, and without sufficient food, medicine, and equipment, even the army would struggle to survive.
Any slightly larger gathering point would attract a swarm of undead. No large-scale encirclement was needed; just a thousand or so undead were enough to breach a small stronghold.
Those civilians unwilling to leave instead followed High Priest Liadrin, hoping to await the return of their prince, Kael'thas.
Sylvanas didn't get involved. She knew she was in a difficult position, caught in the middle, and anything she said would be problematic.
Siding with her people would dishearten her husband.
Siding with her husband would make her people disheartened and curse her as a traitor.
Everything she did was wrong; she was stuck between a rock and a hard place!
Arthas, as the reinforcement, was not anxious that the mission hadn't been completed. There was no need to rush at all.
The real show was just beginning!
The Sunwell was gone, and the source of arcane power that the high elves relied on had also vanished.
Next up was the arrival of the arcane addiction!
arcane addiction meant that the body had grown accustomed to an environment rich in arcane energy, forming a pathway dependency. Once deprived of abundant arcane, the body would exhibit various symptoms, and severe cases could even lead to death.
Even if they survived, most would become mindless Wretched, driven only by biological instinct, no longer considered intelligent beings, indistinguishable from beasts.
If one had to draw a comparison to humans, perhaps it was an upgraded version of nicotine and alcohol addiction.
Smokers suffer without cigarettes, and alcoholics suffer without alcohol, but it's not fatal.
The upgraded version of these symptoms was arcane addiction, which could make arcane-dependent high elves wish for death.
Some civilians or rangers who didn't rely on arcane wouldn't experience overly severe after-effects, but for the mages, it would be a terrible ordeal!
If they couldn't find a new source of arcane energy to replenish themselves, over ninety percent of these high elves would eventually die.
Later, they rebuilt the Sunwell, and the life essence of the Naaru combined to form a holy arcane spring, which finally resolved the arcane addiction.
For now, well, enjoy these days of torment!
Only suffering would make these proud elves realize who was boss, what it meant to humble themselves, and to start over honestly and properly.
So Arthas wasn't anxious at all. As long as he was strong enough, there were plenty of solutions.
What he was concerned about now was the movements of the undead and the demons summoned using the Sunwell.
Where would the combined army of undead and demons go next?
To Lordaeron?
Or to Dalaran to seize the book of medivh?
In the campaign, he fell and became a death knight, leading Kel'Thuzad and the undead army to attack Dalaran, where the top human mages had gathered, killing their leader Antonidas, and seizing the book of medivh.
Using the residual energy of this miraculous book, he summoned Archimonde, the second-in-command of the Burning Legion.
This leader of The Legion had invaded Azeroth over ten thousand years ago, killing the strongest demigod and bringing many other demigods to the brink of death.
It's hard to say who was stronger, him or Kil'jaeden; they were both top leaders, with no subordinate relationship. Either one would be incredibly troublesome.
"Medivh, do you think The Legion's next move is to attack Lordaeron or cross to Kalimdor?"
Arthas watched the undead vanguard, which was gradually marching south, with a solemn expression.
"I don't know either, Prince Arthas. With so many demons now, we need to go to Kalimdor and seek help from the ancient races to fight The Legion."
"It's still not too late to take your people to another continent!"
Medivh, of course, knew the demons' next move, but he couldn't say it.
He still wanted to guide humanity across the Great Sea, because that was where the decisive battle would take place.
No matter how lively the fighting here got, it couldn't last, because there was no profit!
Conversely, across the sea, there was a second Well of Eternity, and the World Tree that drew its power.
Using its power for the final summoning would allow Sargeras, the strongest Fallen Titan, to be teleported over.
This Fallen Titan could cleave a planet with a single sword; his power was beyond what any normal being could compare to.
If the teleportation couldn't be stopped, it meant everyone would be doomed.
Everyone understood the reasoning, but until the very last moment, no one would care.
A commotion came from the front. A group of high elf troops was breaking through, also covering many high elf civilians.
The scent of living beings agitated the undead. If not for the death knight's restraint, they would have already charged forward in a frenzy.
Arthas, who knew how strong the night elves were, wasn't worried at all. Although The Legion was powerful, the night elves were no pushovers either.
When the sky falls, there's always someone taller to hold it up. Among all the strong beings, he wasn't even in the third tier right now, so there was no point in rushing.
Besides the night elves, there were also the Titan constructs, those metal creations imbued with souls, beings comparable to Elemental Lords.
Not to mention the three chattering Old Gods still present underground, even before the Vanilla era arrived.
The corrupted Arthas, on his way to the Frozen Throne through the underground passages of Northrend, saw a very small portion of Yogg-Saron's avatar, and nearly had his entire party wiped out underground because of it.
The Burning Legion's original intention was to kill these Old Gods who corrupted the nascent Titans. Between them, it was only a matter of life and death, no surrender.
Besides that, there was also the dragon Aspects! A single adult dragon could destroy a human kingdom; three together meant annihilation.
What was he worried about?
"I say, Medivh, instead of wasting your time, why don't you figure out a way to get to Stormheim in the Broken Isles? There's an ancient Titan army and a Guardian there."
"As long as you can find a way to break the seals imprisoning them, this army can completely sweep away the Legion."
"Don't worry about releasing demons; they pride themselves on being guardians of the world, and they're on our side."
Arthas was also annoyed with this guy. If he weren't thinking of leeching skills from him, he wouldn't bother talking so much.
Having someone constantly nagging in your ear can really drive you crazy!
Medivh was somewhat skeptical. He had seen many things in ancient texts, especially during the time his soul merged with Sargeras, the leader of The Legion, and had impressions of many matters.
"How do you know this?"
Such information was undoubtedly a secret to mortals, something they weren't worthy or qualified to know.
Arthas, however, smiled and patted his shoulder, his handsome face enigmatic.
"Because I am also a Guardian. We are colleagues, so why would I lie to you?"
"Come, come, let's talk about the arcane mysteries of spatial teleportation spells now."
"But aren't you not a mage?"
"Oh, don't mind those details. Can't I want to learn now?"