As a Tauren chief, Mela naturally possesses Hero abilities, but the aura effect has been replaced with Totem Faith—a morale‑boosting effect that cannot be triggered as a skill, more like a veteran's encouragement of clan warriors.
In addition to the Durability Aura, she also has a unique ranged Shockwave attack and a large‑area War Stomp.
The only drawback is the lack of a Hero ultimate—Rebirth, which would grant an extra life and allow full‑health, full‑mana resurrection.
On the first day, Mela practiced standing with a handheld weapon, standing for the entire day without moving or swaying. The weapon is a hundred‑kilogram two‑handed axe; its swings are moderately forceful, balancing speed and strength. Unlike traditional heavy weapons that are slow, it can still block an assassin's attacks, preventing her from being whirled around by speed.
Such monotonous standing isn't very meaningful; true stability requires a robust physique. Willpower can help somewhat, but a weak body can't be compensated for by sheer determination.
After a day, Mela was exhausted and saw little improvement, yet she never doubted Arthas. He is a Demigod who has entered the realm of the divine; his guidance must be effective.
The Night Elf druids next door apprentice directly under Cenarius to learn the Way of Nature, and experience has proven this correct.
Great Druid Malfurion, Lu Kui, and others are outstanding examples; their strength does not fall short of her father's, and may even surpass him.
Because she was tired from the day, she slept soundly that night; even if the neighbors were noisy, she still drifted into deep sleep.
The second day still required standing, but now with a swinging motion, needing to strike precisely along a horizontal line—no more, no less, and no deviation. Strength matters, speed is unrestricted, but accuracy must be meticulous.
It looks simple, but in reality it trains combat feel. This is combat intuition; when the feel is hot, one can exceed their own strength, but with a poor feel, even routine actions feel forgotten.
Arthas gave no explanation, and Mela asked nothing. One taught in silence, the other learned in silence—it seemed harmonious.
On the third day, Arthas asked Mela to demonstrate the skills she had learned; this is when true learning begins.
With system support, as long as affection reaches the threshold and the other party is willing to teach, one can acquire the corresponding skill. This was true before and remains so now.
Watching a War Stomp shatter stones within a hundred‑meter radius, whereas her own stomp only nudges rocks within five meters—no cracks, not even a hint.
This left Mela both astonished and ashamed, wondering what she had actually learned.
Before she hadn't studied properly; now, even newcomers outperform her!
"Durability Aura: Increases stamina recovery, attack speed, and movement speed."
The exact numbers aren't provided; stamina is simply strength, and a creature's strength has limits.
Once depleted, it recovers slowly over time; the precise value isn't visible, yet it truly exists.
Just as a person's stamina might only support a full‑speed run of one kilometer, with the Durability Aura his stamina recovers faster as it's used, allowing him to sustain longer—running two kilometers becomes no problem.
Now that the skill is in hand, Arthas is too lazy to put on a show. Next, they'll head to Valsara to find a way to learn the Way of Nature.
Before that, he must help Mela eliminate the greatest threat from the hostile forces—Drogbar.
"You've done well. Remember, the teacher opens the door; cultivation is up to the individual. The same power yields different results in different beings. Rest now, and tomorrow we'll officially launch an attack on Drogbar's territory and also eliminate those underground worms."
Mela wiped her sweat; she didn't feel much improvement, but the next moment a surge of energy materialized, a warm current coursing through her body. Fatigue vanished, and although her fingers had just been too tired to move, she now felt invigorated—truly unbelievable!
"Thank you for your guidance, sir, but those underground worms flee into tunnels when they sense danger; we can't track them. After a while they reappear, so eradicating them seems difficult, right?"
As she spoke, she cautiously glanced at Arthas, fearing she might offend the great figure.
Arthas reached out to pat her head, but she was a bit tall, so he settled for a tap on her arm's tendon.
"During the War of the Ancients, I brought Mantids from Pandaria and helped them break the Old Gods' seal.
Now they live in the Thousand Needle Stone Forest; I've already spoken with the Mantid Empress, and she's dispatched troops. In insect battles, Mantids still excel."
This is a timeline alteration: Pandaria no longer has Mantids nor Y'Shaarj's Heart, yet the Malevolent Aura persists. The Mogu and Pandaren continue their endless bloodshed; as long as emotions exist, the Demon of Malice remains.
"It's like an inner demon; as long as one lives, it exists, whether as a living being or as an undead."
Only Arthas can resolve the source of the Malevolent Aura, but he refuses. He's swamped, so it'll be postponed.
Mantid!
Mela has heard of this race; they were once servants of the Old Gods, later converting to the Demigod.
During the War of the Ancients they contributed greatly; many Mantids fell, holding back the demon army and buying the Anti-Mage Alliance time to regroup, preventing a massive collapse.
That race is mysterious; after the world shattered, they retreated to the Thousand Needle Stone Forest to dwell. No race can command them; they continue to breed, though their current numbers are unknown.
"So they're followers of the master—that makes it easy. What do I need to prepare?"
"No preparation needed; the enemy corpses are their best food. Go rest, take a hot shower, get a good night's sleep; tomorrow you'll enter warrior mode, show no mercy to any enemy, young or old, men or women—kill them all, understand?"
"If you perform well, you'll avenge your father, join the Lordaeron Alliance, and even become a follower of the Azeroth Guardians, receiving my blessing."
Arthas wore a mystic's grin; he'd only given her a bit of Durability Aura, and her gradually steady breathing revealed its effect.
"Your heart already harbors a seed of faith, and you've felt your stamina recovery speed up, right?"
As your faith deepens, the blessings bestowed upon you will increase. Strive, and you'll become the Highmountain Great Chief—the greatest chief ever, perhaps even surpassing Huun.
Hehe!
Mela is indeed a woman, and she has little desire for achieving great deeds. However, she is more inclined toward the faith in Arthas; as long as Drogbar is eradicated, carrying a victorious momentum, she can help the Skyhorn Clan overcome difficulties, ultimately conquer the Blood Clan, and reunify the Four Great Clans.
From a distance, Maiev watches; she has already removed the Warden helmet, showing her true face. The helmet merely seals the heart and warns outsiders; now that she has encountered the demigod she worships, putting the helmet back would be impolite—this isn't a fishing trip.
Listening to Arthas's blather, Maiev can't help rolling her eyes. She's never seen such blunt preaching—how is that any different from blather?
The Druidic sect and the Sisterhood of Elune also proselytize, but they limit themselves to Night Elves and practice intangible preaching, without being so blunt.
Standing beside her, Vashj smiles silently; a breeze passes, her silvery hair fluttering, tied into a lady's bun with only a wavy fringe at the front—a typical aristocratic lady's hairstyle.
"Don't you find the adult amusing?"
"Interesting? He's your man, your spouse, of course you'd say he's interesting. Also, could you keep your voice down with Elisande at night? You're waking everyone up!"
"Heh, the adult is my spouse? That's a compliment. I'm merely the adult's maid, tasked with serving the adult. Moreover, won't you no longer be the adult's spouse in the future?"
Vashj's retort silences Maiev; she finds the question hard to answer.
If she answers 'yes,' she'll soon be devoured and become a wife. If she answers 'no,' that would hurt her more than death.
Seeing Maiev fall silent, Vashj finally lets out a laugh.
"Hehehe, the adult is looking for a spouse, and even the queen won't intervene. Moreover, you know, the adult is actually doing it to save the queen."
"What!"
"Has something happened to Her Majesty the Queen? Is there anything I can help with?"
"What should we do now?"
Mela had no experience, so she could only look at Arthas.
"Let's go, get down there, and watch me deal with it."
Arthas jumped onto the flying carpet and swooped down. From a height of fifty meters, the acceleration of gravity made his momentum increase rapidly.
His frostmourne was already out, directly slaying the peripheral Drogbar. Even before he got close, an invisible sword qi swept through, and those guards, unable to withstand the power gap, were directly blown apart.
Even the sturdy Stone Golems, once their cores were shattered, scattered into pieces on the ground.
Dargul, with one eye blown out, saw the sudden appearance of this person, and all his unvented rage was directed at Arthas.
However, being in the air, he didn't have many good options. He could only wait for Arthas to land, his warhammer shimmering with an inexplicable power, causing spikes as thick as bridge piers to instantly rise from the flat ground.
He twisted to dodge, then lightly tapped his feet, moving like a fleeting shadow through the piles of rubble.
"Who exactly are you?!"
No sooner had Dargul spoken than he took a punch, instantly falling into a state of rigidity. After his right hand was punched, his fingers involuntarily loosened, and the hammer of khaz'goroth dropped, only to be taken by the other party.
Arthas put the hammer into his backpack, turned and left, completely disregarding him.
Humiliation! Utter humiliation!
Dargul never expected such an unreasonable person. He didn't even know who the other party was, who inexplicably came over, killed all his guards, and then snatched his hammer weapon right in front of him. What was this? In front of his spouse?
What a bastard!
Mela had just landed when she saw Arthas's effortless movements, subduing the incredibly troublesome Dargul. To so easily take away the opponent's weapon—no one in the Highmountain Clan could do that!
"Don't just stand there, go kill him and avenge your father. Azeroth is with you, she will protect you, go."
Arthas released the aura restriction on her, and the power of rules surrounded Mela, elevating her strength to a whole new level.
A warrior with full buffs is the most terrifying. Just one Thorns Aura short of a full set, the remaining one is insignificant.
Mela picked up her two-handed axe, took a deep breath, and as Dargul was just waking from his stun, she charged!
She crashed into him like a heavy mountain, her axe precisely aimed at his head.
Dargul was, after all, the Clan King of the Drogbar, having risen through martial prowess, not some democratic election. He believed in fists and tangible strength.
His rich combat experience allowed him to twist away from the vital point at the last moment, though he couldn't completely avoid it, resulting in the axe severing his arm.
"Ah! Damn it! It's you! Ulan's old man's daughter, huh? Hahaha, you're just a coward, a good-for-nothing, come on, fight!"
Dargul roared frantically. With only one arm left, he launched a fierce attack, punching and biting with sharp teeth, actually pushing Mela back for a while. He seized a subordinate's weapon, a steel scimitar, and continued to suppress his opponent with his rich combat experience.
Arthas, Maiev, Jandice, and Vashj were watching the show, while Blackhorn was desperately fending off the subsequent Drogbar army.
"His Majesty the King, could you lend a hand?"
Blackhorn was exhausted. He was a shaman, fortunately able to communicate with elements and summon Earth Elementals to resist.
But blocking the endless reinforcements was still difficult; it would be best if someone could help.
"We're busy, stay sharp and don't disgrace yourself. When Neltharion retires, I'll recommend you to be the Aspect of the Black Dragonflight."
Arthas waved his hand. He had only recently asked what Neltharion was doing.
The answer he received was that he was hiding in The Nexus with his good friend, Malygos. Nominally, he was there to retire, but in reality, he was under surveillance, as the Old God's corruption on him had not yet faded and still required time.
For ten thousand years, no good solution had been found, so they could only use magic to suppress it. As long as he didn't use his power, he would essentially not be corrupted.
Especially after defeating Sargeras's avatar, the power of the Aspects was exhausted. Without the suppression of the Aspect power, the corruption accelerated.
Fortunately, N'Zoth was already dead, and without his accelerated corruption, Neltharion could hide in The Nexus, using a near-frozen state to slow down his decline.
He wanted to ask Arthas for help, but couldn't bring himself to do it; the Black Dragon King also had pride. Asking Arthas, that young man, for help was something he couldn't do, couldn't utter.
It was interesting that Illidan went to The Nexus and saw two Dragon Kings staring at him. He probably felt numb, thinking, "Did I break some heavenly rule? Is it really necessary to send such powerful figures to monitor me?"
Mela, after her initial panic, gradually adapted to the battle. Most of the time, she was on the defensive, occasionally counterattacking. Although she was suppressed, she was no longer flustered but adapting, adapting to this level of combat.
For her, this was an excellent opportunity to hone her combat skills. She needed not only to avenge her father but also to demonstrate sufficient worth, to make Arthas see that she could do it, that she could accomplish anything.
Joining the Alliance wasn't difficult; the challenge was how to proceed after joining. If they were of no use, they wouldn't receive any aid even if they joined.
"Maiev, are you familiar with Val'sharah?"
Arthas casually gave Vashj a stable form, consuming the little faith power he had just gained.
He still couldn't completely solve the problem of unstable form, but he could help them maintain their current state.
To completely solve this problem, he would have to complete the task and enter the second stage.
Vashj felt a power penetrate her body, and her Highborne appearance, which she had difficulty maintaining, stabilized again. Her eyes involuntarily looked at her master with gratitude, without saying thanks, because it wasn't needed; she would reciprocate in a special way tonight.
Val'sharah is in the northwestern region of the Broken Isles, where many events have occurred, and it is also the origin of the Druids.
The Archdruid Malfurion learned the Way of Nature from the demigod Cenarius in this place, becoming a Druid. In the social context of the time, commoners were not qualified to learn magic; they were not deemed worthy.
Very few commoners were favored by nobles, so most Elves had to seek other powers.
Druidism was one such path, especially during the War of the Ancients, after Malfurion demonstrated the powerful strength of Druids, this path was finally recognized.
After the great war, the Druids reshaped Val'sharah, as it had become quite damaged due to the Great Sundering. Fortunately, with the favor of the demigod and the help of many Druids, it finally stabilized.
Here, besides the Druids, there is also a large number of Cenarius's offspring. These offspring are characterized by being half-human and half-animal; rather than resembling humans, they resemble Night Elves.
Males are generally called Grove Wardens, while females are mostly Dryads, all possessing unique natural talents and abilities.
If there are no surprises, the next stop will definitely be Val'sharah.
Not only to learn the Way of Nature, but also to build good relationships with them, and incidentally invite some Druids and Dryads to Lordaeron to repair the lands polluted by nature and the Burning Legion, and purify the land once.
After all, in places where the Plague lingers, mortals living there for too long will truly die.
"It's alright, I occasionally go there. Currently, the Druids and the local Grove Wardens are still trying to resurrect Cenarius, so they might not have much time to entertain you. If you can resurrect Cenarius, perhaps they will fulfill any of your requests. You could even find a Dryad lover, that would be no problem."
Maiev was serious at first, but when she spoke later, her words took on a different tone.
Although Arthas was a lecher, he was still a normal person, right?
He hadn't even laid a hand on Mela, let alone a Dryad.
Well, actually, thinking about it, it's not impossible. It's just not good, it conflicts with his long-held aesthetic. Unless the readers pay more!
Paying more can break the bottom line; if not, then we'll see.
Arthas patted his forehead, never expecting Maiev to start turning bad as well.
"Alright, we'll go there then and see what's going on. Also, if it's convenient, please tell Tyrande to wait for me there."
It had been a long time since he had seen the dignified and sacred Tyrande. The High Priestess's sisterly robes always made her appear like a goddess, very captivating and stirring one's heart.
No matter what, Tyrande had given birth to a daughter for him, so it was only right that he go see her.
Having a wife like that is great, at least she's not clingy. If you come, I welcome you; if you leave, I don't stop you. It's truly the state every man dreams of.
"Why don't you tell her yourself? Do you two, as husband and wife, really need me to convey messages? Isn't that a bit much?"
Maiev had also been with them for a while, and stimulated by Vashj, her tone of voice also became a bit playful.
This was also a good thing, at least she learned to change and was no longer that cold person. A woman, when facing her husband, certainly shouldn't be like that; she should be more passionate.
Even a female Elf like Sylvanas, who wasn't very fond of joking, was very uninhibited in private, with all sorts of dirty talk flying around.
As expected of unspeakable content, it just highlighted how comfortable it was.
Arthas spread his hands, making an innocent gesture, which, combined with his facial expression, presented an irrefutable reason.
"I don't have her contact information, and in the future, you will also be sisters, an even closer sisterly relationship, so if you help me contact her, it will also be beneficial for your future relationship."
"We still have many things to do, and this world needs me, and I need you all. One person cannot save Azeroth; I need you, and you also need more people to do things for you. So, how about helping me with this favor?"
The larger the harem, the more spouses; the more spouses, the greater the probability of conflict.
He had to find something for them to do, otherwise, when idle, they would either gang up on him or tear each other apart. Three women make a drama, and that's no joke.
Maiev's expression was a bit odd, and her sharp eyes deeply scrutinized him. Was he asking her to be his spouse?
It wasn't impossible, just a bit sudden. She wasn't asking for a grand romantic ceremony, just a little time to process and accept.
"I'll help you contact her, but whether she comes or not, I don't know. Last time I talked to her about you, she still cared about you quite a bit, she just felt a bit awkward about seeing you."
This wasn't something that couldn't be said; once said, it was said. After all, ten thousand years had passed, and her spouse was so young, which always made her feel a bit strange.
Age has nothing to do with appearance. Even after ten thousand years, Tyrande is still as beautiful as ever, exactly at the mature age of thirty. Elves don't show age, and with the previous blessings, they don't age, so there's no need to worry about appearance.
Even without the blessings of the World Tree, their aging process would be very, very slow.
High Elves can still live for about five thousand years, and as Night Elves who revere nature, even after losing immortality, living for ten thousand years is not a problem.
While they were chatting, the Mantid had already broken in.
Blackhorn, who had been struggling and contemplating turning into his true Black Dragon form if necessary, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Before he could rejoice, those Mantid bypassed him entirely, ignoring even the Drogbar, and flew straight towards Arthas.
A Mantid, clearly a spellcaster, flew in front of Arthas, knelt on one knee, and spoke with barely concealed excitement.
"Karak'sixa Ik greets Milord, all Mantid await Milord's return."
Another Mantid warrior flew in, its arms having evolved into large scythes. It also knelt on one knee, its tone like one who had found a long-lost master.
"Karak'sixa K'anoth greets Master."
Several more Mantid flew in one after another. Like the first two, these Mantid were all high-ranking leaders and the backbone of the Mantid forces.
The Mantid are led by their Empress, who is the supreme leader of all Mantid, responsible for laying eggs and raising offspring, essentially the mother of the Mantid.
She handles daily egg-laying and raising offspring, so the affairs of the empire are left to her ministers, among whom the most outstanding is the Klaxxi Council.
The most elite Mantid join the Council and are uniformly given the surname, karakshiva.
These Mantid each possess unique abilities, thanks to Arthas granting them freedom after absorbing Y'Shaarj's heart. Thus, among the Mantid, there are pure warriors, Arcane mages, and even Warlocks and Alchemists.
Essentially, for every profession that can be involved, there is an elder who studies it. They no longer need to pledge allegiance to the Old Gods, having been freed from a confused destiny. They live purely for themselves; this is what gave them new life.
They should have been free, no longer needing to worship or serve a new master.
But the genes deeply ingrained in their souls made them involuntarily pledge allegiance to their new master, Arthas.
Even after ten thousand years of waiting, they had not changed their faith or determination. They had been training armies, solely for the day when they would receive their master's call and response.
To live for Arthas, this was the faith of every Mantid.
They were the most loyal believers and the best cannon fodder.