As Arthas gradually approached the Frozen Throne, the power Ner'zhul had infused into him through frostmourne was rapidly recovering.
Arthas, who emerged from underground, swept his sword horizontally, unleashing a wide-ranging sword aura.
The arcane golems swept by stopped moving, and a subtle crack appeared in the middle of their mechanical bodies. Ice spread from the crack, quickly freezing the entire machine into a large block of ice.
Arthas returned in time, and Ner'zhul finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"My Knight, I will infuse all my remaining power into you. Clear out the enemies as quickly as possible, time is running out!"
Arthas felt the powerful strength within him, greater than ever before, and confidently bowed his head, replying, "My Lord, please rest assured and leave it to me. We are Invincible."
Although there was a suspicion of boasting, Arthas, who had charged into the formation, indeed destroyed the vanguard arcane golems without pause, like slicing through melons and vegetables.
If this guy were allowed to continue causing trouble, the front-line positions would eventually be overwhelmed.
Shandris, as the leading general, stepped forward when others were not confident they could withstand Arthas' Three-Strike Combo.
"Whoosh!"
An arrow exceeding the speed of sound struck Arthas, who was currently wreaking havoc.
Ner'zhul, who was monitoring the battle, hastily warned, "Be careful! An ambush arrow! Six o'clock direction, head!"
Arthas hurriedly turned, holding frostmourne horizontally in front of him.
"Clang!"
The immense force made Arthas' hands tingle, and his heavily armored legs dragged two deep marks on the ice.
'An arrow with such force?'
Arthas, who was joyfully rampaging, was startled. He had never seen such a powerful archer before.
Before Arthas could clearly see who shot the arrow, a volley of arrows followed one after another, forcing him to swing frostmourne to parry the incoming projectiles.
Fortunately, these volley arrows did not possess the same power as the first strike. Although he appeared somewhat disheveled parrying left and right, he managed to safely withstand this round of ranged attacks.
Prompted by her husband's example, Shandris, who diligently cultivated, had also reached the limit of Mortals, but she had never found an opportunity to break through her realm.
Andreas' process of breaking through to a Demigod was somewhat muddled even to himself; it was entirely managed by Elune while he was in a state of slumber, so he had no insights to offer, nor could he guide Shandris through her bottleneck.
However, according to his personal understanding, a Demigod must have a close connection with the world they inhabit to entrust their soul, meaning they must first gain the recognition of the azeroth world-soul.
Over the years, Shandris has campaigned extensively, resolving many hostile forces threatening Azeroth. The fact that she has not yet gained Azeroth's recognition indicates that A'jiang believes her contributions are not enough and she needs to continue gaining favor.
This battle against Arthas was an opportunity. Andreas made up his mind that unless Shandris' life was in critical danger, he would absolutely not intervene.
The Lich King Ner'zhul is an invading foreign race, and he has not reflected on his mistakes. Instead, he has intensified his efforts to turn Azeroth into a world of the dead.
Although the azeroth world-soul still has the temperament of a child, she at least knows to protect her possessions and not let outsiders mess around on the planet.
Based on Andreas' rough estimate, if his previous elimination of Archimonde contributed 100 points, Ner'zhul would contribute at least 30-50 points.
Ner'zhul's power comes from countless Undead. His mental strength has reached a very high level after millions of Lordaeron Undead joined him.
Although he has not attained the status of a Demigod, he effectively possesses power comparable to one.
Arthas, who received Ner'zhul's power infusion, can also be considered Demigod-level combat power, but he ultimately received external power, and coupled with his lack of combat experience, he struggles to fully unleash the power bestowed by Ner'zhul.
Against Uther, he could win by overwhelming force and the opponent's hesitation, but against Shandris, who has no personal ties to Arthas... his previously Invincible crushing technique was not as effective.
"Whoosh whoosh whoosh~ Whoosh!"
Shandris' combat rhythm made Arthas very uncomfortable. Occasionally, a powerful Aimed Shot would be mixed in with several volleys of arrows.
Moreover, the Lights Power contained in the opponent's arrows made Arthas very uncomfortable; the burning pain gradually spread throughout his body from his hands.
"You've angered me, woman!"
Extremely annoyed by the continuous suppression of arrows, Arthas raised his hand to cast an Anti-Magic Shell, also covering the surface of his cold iron armor with a thick layer of magical ice.
Charging forward against the incessant arrows, Arthas relied on his armor and magic to withstand some of the less powerful volley arrows.
"Heed my command, rise!"
As Arthas spread Death Power using frostmourne, the ice beneath Shandris' feet suddenly began to crack, and several greenish-gray hands stretched out from beneath the ice, attempting to grab Shandris' leather-booted legs.
Shandris, a former Ranger, was not a pure stationary damage dealer. She leaped backward, and the volley of splitting arrows she shot in mid-air covered the spot where she had previously stood.
The Undead Vrykul that crawled out from beneath the ice were impaled like hedgehogs by countless arrows before they could even stand firm, pinning them back onto the thick ice.
Andreas, who was observing the entire battle, raised an eyebrow, "Burying Undead Vrykul under the ice? Such a malicious trick must have been Ner'zhul's idea."
Waving his hand to summon a Shadow Imp, Andreas relayed a message to Leticia through it.
"Leticia, don't rush to rendezvous with us. Let Anub'Rekhan lead the way. You go and destroy all the Vrykul villages in Icecrown Glacier first, and burn the bodies."
"Huh?"
Leticia was happily riding on Anub'Rekhan's back, traveling... This girl still likes to deal with strange creatures.
Thinking she misheard, Leticia asked in confusion, "Are you sure you want to destroy all Vrykul villages? Most of them are still alive, aren't they?"
"Confirmed. These Vrykul have become the Lich King's source of soldiers, like his livestock. He harvests a batch at certain intervals."
"To eliminate future troubles, destroy them. Years ago, we gave these Vrykul a chance, but they didn't seize it."
"Alright, you command, I obey."
Leticia shrugged helplessly and patted Anub'Rekhan beneath her.
"Big bug, Andreas wants us to change direction and first wipe out the Vrykul villages in Icecrown Glacier. Do you know the way?"
Anub'Rekhan had no pity for the Vrykul. He was in a good mood after just completing his revenge.
"Of course I know, Miss Leticia, please hold on tight, I'm going to accelerate."
"Excellent, let's go!"
...At this moment, Ner'zhul still didn't know that a small action by Arthas in battle had threatened his reserve forces.
Arthas, clad in thick armor, couldn't move very fast. The Short-Legged Death Knight was smoothly kited by Shandris.
The two chased and fled across the battlefield several times. Arthas repeatedly ordered nearby Undead to assist in the attack, but he never managed to catch even a corner of Shandris' clothes.
Andreas looked at Arthas' futile pursuit with pity, 'A Death Knight with such short legs wants to catch a Hunter? You're overthinking it, young man.'
Although one couldn't completely trust the skills from the game, it was truly difficult for a Combat Class like the Death Knight to get close to the agile Huntress.
Previously, Arthas could rely on his Warhorse Invincible to close the distance with enemies, but Shandris' evasion route was extremely tricky; she constantly weaved through the most densely populated area in the center of the battlefield, preventing Invincible from ever building up a charge.
At this moment, Arthas finally understood why that hateful woman had first raised her hand to destroy the wings that Invincible had gained only after his death—she had been planning this trick all along.
The longer the delay, the worse it was for Arthas, as Ner'zhul's Soul Essence continued to drain away.
"It's too late, Arthas! Ignore that woman, use the Abominations as meat shields to block her attacks, and come immediately to the Frozen Throne. Let us Become One!"
In truth, this was Ner'zhul's final, desperate choice. He had not yet completely used frostmourne to erase Arthas' human reason, and such a reckless Dual Soul Merge carried significant risks.
However, Ner'zhul knew the biggest flaw in Arthas' heart. As long as he seized this weakness and attacked fiercely, he was confident he could annihilate Arthas' soul and take control of his strong body.
Arthas was unaware of the risks of becoming one. Hearing Ner'zhul's summons, he immediately turned his horse and charged toward the entrance of the Frozen Throne.
"Don't think you can run!"
Shandris aimed an Aimed Shot infused with a large amount of Moonlight Power at Arthas. The instant the arrow was released, five Abominations suddenly blocked her firing trajectory.
The Moon White arrow effortlessly pierced the thick, fleshy bodies of the first three Abominations. It slowed down when penetrating the fourth, and finally, having exhausted its momentum, became stuck in the fat of the fifth Abomination.
Andreas noticed Arthas' movement and immediately ordered, "Target the bombardment on Arthas! Stop him!"
Invincible's path forward was covered by artillery fire, but the already dead Invincible was fearless, still faithfully carrying its master toward the target location.
"Boom!"
Finally, one of the arcane cannons struck the rear half of the Undead Warhorse, and Arthas was thrown off by the massive impact.
While still airborne, Arthas used the Death Knight's unique Death Grip to grab an Abomination Leader on his path, using the creature's massive weight to pull himself in the opposite direction.
Before landing, Arthas glanced back at Invincible. The rear half of the Undead Warhorse's body was completely shattered. It collapsed on the ice, its eyes, illuminated by Soul Fire, still staring straight at Arthas.
'Wait for me, Invincible. For the undead, these injuries are not difficult to repair.'
Arthas gritted his teeth and continued running through the ranks of the undead army, finally slipping into the Frozen Throne's barrier just before the countless artillery shells covered the area.
"Tsk!"
Arthas still managed to escape into the Great Ice Pillar in the end, causing Andreas to click his tongue in annoyance.
"Shift targets! Bombard the barrier!"
"I refuse to believe Ner'zhul, lacking an energy source, can maintain this eggshell forever!"
The Defensive Barrier covering the Frozen Throne began to crack under the relentless bombardment. Arthas raced up the Frozen Throne's Spiral Staircase as fast as possible, finally arriving before the Permafrost Ice at the top just as the barrier was breached.
"Hurry..."
"Rumble!"
Before Ner'zhul could finish speaking, a series of artillery strikes landed on the Frozen Throne platform, and the already cracked Permafrost Ice groaned with a creaking sound.
"Crack!"
Finally, under the coverage of countless arcane cannons, the Permafrost Ice shattered piece by piece. The helmet and armor frozen within scattered everywhere, and Ner'zhul's wail echoed across the land.
Arthas gritted his teeth, picked up the helm of domination from the ground, flashed behind a section of Permafrost Ice that had not been completely destroyed, and immediately placed the helmet upon his head.
The Saturated Arcane Cannon Bombardment continued for five minutes, only stopping on Andreas' command after consuming most of the energy within the ship's hull.
Shandris also looked up from the Glacier Plain at the flattened top platform of the Frozen Throne. The imposing Ice Throne that had once stood there was long gone, and only a small, half-person-high chunk of solid Permafrost Ice remained.
All the undead on the battlefield ceased movement, allowing the arcane golems and Night Elves to attack them without showing any signs of fighting back.
"Does this count as... a success?"
Having expended most of the Flying Fleets' energy in one go, Andreas was unsure whether he had successfully killed Arthas and Ner'zhul.
Judging by the state of the undead, it seemed to signal the death of the Lich King, but Andreas knew about the rule that there must always be a Lich King.
Undead who lose their leader's restraint do not simply "power down"; instead, they become completely uncontrollable. The current situation was clearly abnormal.
"Gaa gaa!"
As the undead below simultaneously raised their heads and let out hoarse, strange cries, the Frozen Throne, covered by massive amounts of ice dust, finally revealed its true appearance.
Arthas' body stood up from behind the Permafrost Ice, and two clusters of faint blue Soul Fire lit up in the eyesockets of the helm of domination.
'Sure enough, it wasn't that easy. So... who is controlling that body now?'
The Flying Warships, having lost their bombardment energy, could no longer support the battle below. Andreas left the Flagship the venture from the rear Flight Deck and floated above the battlefield, cautiously watching the Lich King, who had yet to make any further moves.
Arthas raised frostmourne in his hand. The barrier, which had originally been destroyed by the bombardment, reformed and surrounded the Great Ice Pillar once more. The undead in front of the Frozen Throne also launched a frantic counterattack against the Night Elves.
"Clang!"
He plunged frostmourne into the ice surface of the platform's top layer, and a Throne, which looked no different from the previous one, quickly rose out of the platform and solidified.
Arthas slowly walked to the Throne and sat down. The two clusters of Soul Fire flickering on the helm of domination began to fluctuate violently.
Andreas' eyes lit up. "Fighting over the body?"
He extended the Staff of Ganir forward. The tear of Elune at the tip began to rotate slowly and gradually transformed into a brilliant golden color.
"Swish!"
A pair of dazzling Light Wings formed by Holy Light unfolded behind Andreas. Holy Light, compressed to its limit, erupted from the tear of Elune, violently colliding with the newly formed Frozen Throne barrier.
Shandris was startled by the residual shockwaves from the collision of the two energies. Temporarily ignoring the situation at the Frozen Throne, she retook command from Daelin and methodically deployed the army to stabilize their position.
The initial wave of the undead assault caught the Night Elves off guard, but the Night Elves' military quality was extremely high. After overcoming the initial confusion, they quickly blocked the undead counterattack and continued pushing the frontline toward the Frozen Throne.
The Defensive Barrier reactivated by the Lich King was significantly weaker than the original one. It only lasted a dozen seconds before being pierced by Andreas' Light Cannon.
"Boom!"
A highly condensed Pillar of Holy Light struck the Frozen Throne platform, and the splashing ice shards rained down hard on the Lich King's head.
The two souls fighting over the body seemed to have temporarily reached a consensus under the pressure of the powerful external enemy. It was unclear who was controlling the body as it stood up from the Throne and, in a very ostentatious manner, pointed frostmourne provocatively toward Andreas in the air.
Andreas raised an eyebrow. "This arrogant, reckless attitude... that must be Arthas, the young punk?"
"Shh~"
Andreas whistled, drawing the attention of Shandris, who was commanding the troops suppressing the undead, and waved his hand, conjuring a pair of Light Wings on his wife's back.
After Shandris, slightly unused to them, manipulated the wings to fly over, Andreas gently pushed her back.
"Go! Round two is starting. Be careful; the Lich King, with merged power, should be even harder to deal with than before."
Before Ner'zhul's soul entered Arthas' body, he used frostmourne as a relay for remote transmission, injecting his power into Arthas' form.
Although frostmourne had been specifically reinforced for spiritual power when the Dreadlords designed and forged it, some loss was inevitable during long-distance power transmission.
Now that Ner'zhul and Arthas had merged into one, Shandris could clearly feel that her opponent's power was significantly stronger than before as she battled the Lich King on the vast platform of the Frozen Throne.
"Clang!"
frostmourne met the high-powered Arrow of Elune fired by Shandris head-on, splitting it down the middle. The Lich King continued his advance toward Shandris with ease, his foot already stepping into the casting range of Death Grip.
The gap in power levels allowed the Lich King to ignore Shandris' elemental advantage to a certain extent; a head-on clash could completely isolate the impact of Light's Power on his undead body.
However, this did not mean Shandris had no chance of victory.
Just as Andreas predicted, the Lich King, who had only recently merged his two souls, occasionally made inexplicable low-level mistakes.
Just like now, Shandris, who had been pulled in by Death Grip, did not suffer from stage fright and instead engaged the Lich King in close-quarters maneuvers.
With minute movements, she dodged the direct downward slash of frostmourne. Enduring the freezing aura instinctively radiating from the Lich King, she used his lack of flexibility in heavy armor to circle behind him.
Planting both feet on the back of the Lich King's Cold Iron Armor, she landed a point-blank Arrow of Elune before he could react.
In her youth, Shandris would habitually use her Moonblade as a melee weapon when forced into close combat. As she grew older, she gradually abandoned this practice, as it only added to her carrying weight.
Andreas had only casually mentioned the concept of Gun Kata to her, but it was like a divine revelation for Shandris, who went into seclusion to comprehend her own Close-Quarters Bow Combat style.
The Kaldorei artifact warbow in her hands did not feel cumbersome during close combat. Shandris could perform exquisite close-range shots with minimal movement, and the relatively clumsy Lich King was completely unable to track her movements.
"Enough!"
The burning pain from his back caused the Lich King to react with a mix of shock and fury, as wild frost and death energy erupted from his body.
Sensing the approaching danger, Shandris kicked off the ground and retreated in advance, dodging this area-of-effect attack.
*Whoosh!*
Taking the opportunity to charge up, she fired an Aimed Shot once more at the Lich King's back.
Shandris' previous zero-distance shot had pierced the Lich King's Ice Armor. If she hit the same spot again, it was highly likely she would break through his defense and wound his physical body.
At the critical moment, the Lich King made another blunder.
When faced with a crisis, both independent souls subconsciously tried to manipulate the body to respond.
The brave and resolute former Paladin, Arthas, intended to turn around and face the attack without fear, frostmourne already raised in anticipation.
But the cowardly old Shaman, Ner'zhul, followed a caster's instincts and intended to dodge the attack to the side first.
This made things interesting. Both individuals' control over the body took effect simultaneously, causing Arthas' body to fall into a state of contradiction.
Although the stiffness lasted for less than a second, it was more than enough for Shandris, whose archery was supersonic.
"Bang!"
Just as Shandris predicted, the Arrow of Elune pierced the Cold Iron Armor Arthas wore the moment it hit. The arrow, with its incredible penetrating power, entered through his back, nearly piercing Arthas' heart... though even a direct hit wouldn't be easily fatal.
"Ugh!"
Both souls within the Lich King wailed simultaneously, as the moonlight energy entering the body caused their souls to feel a sharp, burning pain.
While not fatal, this injury allowed Arthas and Ner'zhul to simultaneously discover the serious problem they faced.
Their thoughts were not unified. When facing a crisis, both souls had their own subconscious reactions, and because of their different experiences and combat roles, these reactions did not always overlap.
If in the coming battle one still wanted to go left while the other wanted to go right, this experience of being injured would likely repeat itself.
Ner'zhul growled within Arthas' body, "Retreat for now! We need to handle the issue of soul fusion first, otherwise we will only hold each other back in battle."
"Tch!"
Despite holding power greater than his opponent's, he was still forced to retreat. The resentment in Arthas' heart was almost palpable.
However, as an undead, his emotional fluctuations had become much thinner, allowing him to think more calmly.
After weighing the pros and cons, Arthas finally chose to compromise.
"Clang!"
As the Lich King thrust frostmourne into the ground, the great ice pillar of the Frozen Throne began to vibrate violently, the sound of cracking echoing incessantly.
Though she didn't know what he was up to, Shandris keenly judged that the great ice pillar was about to collapse and immediately leaped backward.
While in mid-air, Shandris threw a grappling hook from her left hand, latching onto a shield of a Wall of Nordrassil below. Using the counter-pull, she sent herself back to the ground, landing steadily.
"Boom!"
The towering Frozen Throne collapsed suddenly as if it had lost its foundation, and large cracks began to appear in the glacial plains surrounding it.
From high above, abnormal geological activity across a wide area was clearly visible. The glacier layers, frozen for years, were rapidly disintegrating, and the frigid seawater of the Northrend region could even be seen at the bottom of some cracks.
Upon landing, Shandris immediately sprinted back while whistling toward the sky. A pure purple-furred Hippogryph immediately descended upon hearing the call.
As she jumped onto the Hippogryph's back, Shandris' command rang out across the battlefield.
"Ground forces, retreat! Air force, intensify the search for the Lich King's whereabouts!"
Andreas, who had returned to the bridge of the Enterprise, stared at the Frozen Throne now covered in a massive cloud of ice dust. A very prominent rift had appeared beneath the great ice pillar, and countless shards of ice were falling into the seawater.
"Deploy the 'Abyss' underwater combat arcane golems. The Lich King might have hidden in the sea."
"Yes, sir!"
The 'Abyss' was the latest type of underwater combat golem developed by the Night Elf Republic in recent years. It had only been delivered to the military at the beginning of this year, designed primarily to deal with the elusive Naga near various coasts.
Since the Burning Legion's invasion, the Naga had suddenly gone quiet, and the Abyss had not yet had the chance to undergo combat testing. This was a perfect opportunity to put them to practical use in the cold waters of Northrend.
On the ground, the collapse of the Frozen Throne kicked up a massive amount of frost and dust, making visibility very poor. However, the Abyss-type golems underwater soon sent back the latest visual data.
"Enlarge it on the main screen."
One of the Abyss-type arcane golems transmitted the footage captured by its Arcane monitor to the Enterprise.
Through the Arcane display screen, everyone clearly saw the heavy Cold Iron Armor Arthas had been wearing sinking in multiple pieces, while a faint, lingering wake extended toward the deep underwater icebergs of the Northrend sea.
The captain of the Enterprise shook his head regretfully. "Speaker, judging by the opponent's escape speed and the performance of the Abyss, we probably won't be able to catch up."
Andreas sighed helplessly. "Then there's nothing for it. First, eliminate as many Scourge Undead in the water as possible, and take this chance to weaken the Lich King's forces."
The Lich King had decisively escaped by diving, relying on his undead body's immunity to cold to hide in the vast Northrend ocean.
The undead remaining on the glacial plain battlefield also fell into the sea one by one. The Abyss-type underwater combat golems were perfectly positioned to hunt down these undead attempting to hide beneath the waves.
However, the Abyss was, after all, a newly deployed model, and production volume was not yet large enough. With hundreds of thousands of Scourge troops scattered and fleeing after falling into the water, it was impossible for a few hundred Abyss units to round them all up.
Andreas frowned as he looked at the unrecognizable Frozen Throne. 'I didn't expect the Lich King to abandon his lair and hide in the deep sea.'
'Although we've barely managed to achieve our strategic goal of clearing out the Lich King's power base, it ultimately leaves him an opportunity to rise again... I just don't know where this guy will start causing trouble next time.'
The danger of Ner'zhul and Arthas sharing one body had become undeniable; the Lich King would surely find a safe place to hide and finish merging their souls.
To track him down, Andreas left behind the hundreds of Abyss-type underwater combat golems carried by the Enterprise, using the search to mop up the undead fleeing across the sea.
After retrieving Shandris' ground forces, the energy-depleted Flying Fleets turned back toward Suramar City.
Though they hadn't achieved total victory, destroying the Lich King's lair meant the Scourge couldn't threaten Northrend again for a long time.
But until the Lich King was eliminated, the danger would always remain.
Slim as the hope was, Andreas still counted on the underwater golems to locate the Lich King's hiding spot and destroy this future threat while the two souls inside him fought each other.
After returning to Suramar City, Andreas and Shandris did not head back to Astranaar for the moment.
As commander of the Northern Expedition, Shandris began cleaning up the mess now that the Lich King had fled by sea.
Leticia and Anub'Rekhan had wiped out every Vrykul village infected by the plague within Icecrown Glacier and burned them to the ground, cutting off the Lich King's reserve of troops.
With the Lich King gone into the ocean, the remaining Undead Nerubians hiding beneath Northrend became the greatest threat.
The moment he finished his mission Anub'Rekhan hurried back underground to rally the Nerubians of the kingdom of Ankhet and hunt the last Undead Nerubians.
The Abyss-type underwater golems were now in active service and sending back constant reports—reports that revealed plenty of problems.
First, sustained combat in frigid water was poor; using the same alloys as ground frames, they could stand the cold for only an hour before having to surface and reheat.
Second, only after diving into the deep sea did crews discover the pressure issue.
The pressure in the ocean depths far exceeds that of shallow water; as the Abyss dove deeper, the strain on its frame kept mounting.
Considering future battles against the Naga in the deep, upgrading the Abyss had to be given top priority.
Relying solely on costly arcane golems to fight countless Naga underwater was unrealistic; the recent rout of the tens of thousands of drowned undead showed as much, so R&D into Night-Elf underwater gear had to begin in earnest.
Overall, though the campaign hadn't achieved a perfect result, the problems exposed during combat were invaluable.
Besides underwater warfare, the Flying Fleets' escort firepower still needed improvement.
Andreas planned to increase the density and strength of destroyer and cruiser anti-air cannons to avoid another embarrassing encounter with frost wyrms.
Incidentally, apart from a dozen that fled into the deep, most of those frost wyrms had been torn apart by black and blue dragons; Arygos intended to take the Blue Dragon bones back to Dragonblight for reburial.
With the Scourge falling silent, the situation in Northgradually calmed.
Watching the war unfold, Loken felt a rising sense of crisis; the Night Elves' magi-tech advances had outpaced his expectations.
If one day those fleets dropped troops over Ulduar… Filled with dread, Loken paid his first visit in ages to Mimiron's lab to seek aid from the Titan Keeper genius.
If the Iron army–wielding Loken had grown wary, the Drakari Trolls next door in Moonglade Forest were even more on edge.
When Suramar was obliterated by a single finger of Archimonde, the Drakari had watched with glee.
But the ensuing Scourge invasion left them no room to mock others; plague and endless Scourge armies harried the Drakari to exhaustion.
When they finally felt the pressure ease, they found to their surprise that the Night Elves had returned—it was the Night Elves' assault on the undead that had lifted the weight on the Drakari Empire.
Loken wasn't the only one monitoring Icecrown; Frost Troll scouts had watched from afar as well.
The Night Elves' hordes of arcane golems on the ground were nothing new to the Drakari.
But the flying warships raining artillery in support filled the Drakari high command in Zul'Gurub with dread.
Metal hulls, overwhelming suppressive fire, and moonwings filling the sky—an empire weak in air power, the Drakari felt a chill to the bone.
If, after rebuilding Suramar, the Night Elves turned their spears on them… the Drakari had no confidence they could hold.
Andreas found it faintly amusing when a Drakari envoy arrived "in peace and friendship."
Honestly, he had little interest in ZulDrak's territory.
Compared to the fertile Grizzly Hills and Howling Fjord, icy ZulDrak held little value for the Night Elves.
After taking DrakTharon Keep—the gateway to Grizzly Hills—Andreas had no wish to press further against the Drakari.
After years of growth, Night Elf numbers had risen, but Andreas had no wish to expend them on barren ZulDrak—wasn't Sholazar Basin or Howling Fjord far better?
Developing Sholazar still meant minding the Titan Keepers, but Howling Fjord held no such worries.
For now the top priority was finishing Suramar's reconstruction; only a secure rear could support Night Elf expansion in the Arctic.
Back in the Borean Tundra, the orcs had been models of obedience, diligently taming native cold-resistant beasts and living as herders.
Rebuilding from ruin, the orcs were still far from ready to expand, but given their prodigious birthrate, Great Chieftain Go'el would put expansion on the agenda sooner or later.
Just after Andreas bade the Drakari envoy farewell and prepared to leave Northrend, a special visitor arrived in his Suramar office.
"Heh—what a rare guest."
Andreas regarded the raven perched on his office windowsill with a half-smile; its uncannily human scrutiny betrayed its identity.
"Medivh, won't you come in and talk?"
The raven was silent for a moment, then flew to Andreas' desk and transformed into a hooded human—the same mysterious man who had once shown the orcs their path.
He pushed back his hood, revealing a bearded face full of puzzlement.
"Speaker Moonshadow, how did you know it was me?"
Andreas answered with a chuckle, "More interesting than that triviality is how you slipped through Suramar's defensive wards."
Medivh shook his head. "The city's ancient ward is superbly wrought, but Archimonde's destruction left gaps; I entered through one of them."
Andreas shrugged. "As expected. The Magisters are rushing repairs, yet the ward was hand-built by Queen Azshara—its complexity is beyond modern Magisters."
"So?"
Leaning back, Andreas fixed Medivh with a sharp gaze. "Last Guardian of Tirisfal, guide of the invading orcs—what brings you into Suramar to find me?"
Medivh did not stay in Suramar for long. His soul's remaining time in the Material World was nearing its limit. After briefly relaying the information he had obtained from the Twisting Nether to Andreas, he dissipated on his own.
To be honest, Andreas did not have much of a favorable impression of this Guardian of Tirisfal who had committed such grave errors.
The Japs... the Orcs were brought here by him, and even the Orcs' migration to the Borean Tundra was his handiwork; Andreas had already confirmed this from his own mouth.
However, the information Medivh brought this time was something Andreas took quite seriously. After Medivh's soul returned to the astral plane, Andreas sat in his office, frowning in thought for a long while.
"Has Kiljaeden started to move..."
Strictly speaking, Kiljaeden had never stopped infiltrating Azeroth. The demons that had previously snuck into Azeroth were almost all acting under the instructions of the deceiver.
The Lich King Ner'zhul was also his creation. Upon discovering that this subordinate was beginning to have second thoughts, he sent Illidan to clean up the mess, a fact that Medivh had just personally confirmed.
Frankly, a Lich King who had lost the Frozen Throne was no longer a concern in Andreas' eyes.
The location of the Frozen Throne was the node closest to the Shadowlands. Only there could the Lich King spread his vast mental power to command the undead of the entire world.
Without the Frozen Throne, regardless of who won the battle of souls for the body, the Lich King would never regain the prestige he once held with an army of millions of undead. He would be nothing more than an ordinary member of Azeroth's countless factions.
Shandris had suddenly gained some insights after the battle ended. After handing over the Northrend Expeditionary Force to the command of Leticia and Daelin, she returned early to Astranaar for secluded meditation.
Since the azeroth world-soul had already granted the reward in advance, it meant that in her eyes, the Lich King was no longer considered a threat.
Not to mention... Andreas had planted a hidden mine next to the Lich King. In his eyes, the Lich King now had only one value left—as a mobile stand for the helm of domination.
'Doesn't the Lich King want to rely on the undead to fight the Burning Legion? I'll give you that chance, but if you fail to recognize your place and still want to jump out and cause trouble...'
Based on the recent intelligence from the broken world of Draenor combined with Medivh's information, Andreas was basically certain that Kiljaeden intended to strike at Draenor. His target was undoubtedly Illidan, who had just taken root in Hellfire Citadel.
Thanks to the hidden hand Andreas had planted in Shattrath beforehand, Romul had been continuously sending the latest intelligence from Draenor back to the Draenei on Azeroth, and Velen shared this information with the Night Elves without reservation.
Using the coordinates recorded in the skull of Go'el and borrowing the ley line energy of Azsuna, Illidan opened a portal to Draenor, leading his Naga subordinates and the Elves willing to follow him to that broken world.
As for Illidan's purpose in going to Draenor, Andreas had a rough understanding.
After Draenor shattered, there were no longer any barriers between it and many other worlds. Not only could the Burning Legion enter Draenor unimpeded, but Illidan could also travel to many worlds in the universe through the countless spatial rifts Ner'zhul had torn open.
According to the information Illidan obtained from Sargeras during the War of the Ancients at the cost of his own eyes, demons who die outside of the Twisting Nether can continuously respawn.
Even if the Azeroth Allied Forces defeated Archimonde, that victory was only temporary.
If the problem of the Burning Legion's resurrection couldn't be solved at its source, Archimonde would eventually make a comeback one day.
Andreas' approach was more steady: patiently develop Azeroth's military strength, study Tempest Keep with the Draenei, and strive to develop a large number of spaceships capable of interstellar travel as soon as possible. Once everything was ready, they would counterattack Argus.
Illidan was different from Andreas; his style of action was much more radical.
He didn't plan to do his own research and development but instead intended to invade Argus from another angle.
Before that, he first needed to find the coordinates and a means of transportation to Argus.
In order to escape the dying Draenor, Ner'zhul had used three artifacts to cast spells at Hellfire Citadel, tearing open countless spatial rifts in Draenor, which directly caused the complete planet of Draenor to shatter.
To Illidan, these rifts that destroyed Draenor were absolute treasures. He could use these spatial rifts leading to countless worlds to raid planets controlled by the Burning Legion, finding the coordinates of Argus and the Burning Legion's space warships.
Kiljaeden certainly could not tolerate Illidan's brazen behavior. With old and new grudges combined, it was only natural that he planned to take action against Illidan.
From Andreas' perspective, Illidan was now equivalent to a bridgehead shielding Azeroth from the storm. Once Kiljaeden destroyed the forces Illidan had established on Draenor, the deceiver, with no more worries, would next focus his energy on invading Azeroth.
'It seems I must find a way to give Illidan a hand.'
Stroking his chin, Andreas thought hard about how to extend a helping hand to distant Draenor.
According to the intelligence from Romul, Illidan had captured Hellfire Citadel immediately upon arriving in Draenor.
To the north of Hellfire Citadel was a Fel enclave called Kiljaedens Throne, where the first wave of reinforcements sent by Kiljaeden had landed to establish a base.
After taking Hellfire Citadel, Illidan had a good plan for dealing with the captured Orcs of the Shattered Hand Clan.
Through the information provided by the skull of Go'el, Illidan knew that the Orcs had once displayed powerful combat capabilities after drinking demon blood.
A normal person would certainly not let the Orcs drink demon blood again, to avoid them falling into an uncontrollable state.
Illidan never took the ordinary path; he decided to add more fuel to the fire and give these Orcs even more blood.
Coincidentally, among the first wave of troops sent by Kiljaeden, the leader happened to be a Pit Lord named Magtheridon.
Magtheridon was the number two figure of the Pit Lord race, second only to Mannoroth. His combat power was formidable, and Illidan, along with Vashj—who Azshara had sent to assist him—were not his match alone.
Andreas had no pity for the Orcs of the Old Horde on Draenor. If they could enhance the combat power of Illidan's army, these Orcs might become useful pawns.
'Since the timeline has changed, Kael'thas and Akama cannot join Illidan's command. Illidan's strength has been weakened considerably. It might be difficult for him to win a head-on battle against Magtheridon, so...'
............
Draenor, the City of Light, Shattrath.
Thanks to the presence of the Naaru Adal, Shattrath City remained remarkably intact.
After Draenor shattered, countless refugees poured into this city that treated all races equally, filling the void left by the large numbers of Draenei who had retreated to Azeroth and becoming the city's new residents.
However, the leaders of this city were still the Draenei. Those who had volunteered to stay behind with the Naaru managed the city in an orderly fashion, and they had now named their organization the Aldor.
The leader of the Aldor, High Priestess Ysera, received instructions from Azeroth and remained unable to make a decision for a long time.
"Helping a demon attack another demon? What kind of fresh tactic is this..."
Ysera rubbed her forehead helplessly. In her eyes, Illidan, who had recently appeared on Draenor, was also a thorough demon, whose appearance and style of action were both extraordinarily sinister.
"I, on the other hand, think this is an opportunity."
The one speaking up now was a white-bearded, white-haired human "old" mage—Khadgar.
After the Dark Portal was closed from the Draenor side, to everyone's surprise, Draenor was not completely shattered in the spatial rift, and the Azeroth Expeditionary Force, including Khadgar, Turalyon, Danath, and Kurdran, fortunately survived.
The Expeditionary Force built a monitoring fortress called Honor Hold on Hellfire Peninsula, with the purpose of guarding against the Shattered Hand Clan in Hellfire Citadel.
However, as the demon blood receded, the orcs of the Shattered Hand Clan also fell into weakness, and had not launched an attack on Honor Hold for a long time.
Leaving Danath and Kurdran to guard Honor Hold, Turalyon and Khadgar followed the guidance of the Light to Tanaan Jungle, where they unexpectedly discovered an intact city.
Turalyon later mysteriously disappeared during an exploration of a spatial rift, after which Khadgar remained in Shattrath with Adal, gaining a vast amount of knowledge about the Dark Void and the Twisting Nether from the knowledgeable Naaru.
With the Naaru's approval, Khadgar, with his agile mind and powerful strength, gradually integrated into Shattrath's core leadership. High Priestess Ysera also highly valued the opinions of this foreign advisor.
"Scholar Khadgar, please elaborate."
Khadgar habitually stroked his long, untrimmed white beard, "Regardless of whether Illidan is a demon, his hostile attitude towards the Burning Legion is absolutely genuine."
"Since Speaker Moonshadow vouches for Illidan, we can temporarily trust Illidan, as he says, and use his power to suppress the Burning Legion's expansion."
Draenor and Azeroth cannot be directly connected; only Illidan, holding the skull of Go'el, can travel freely between them.
Andreas and Velen could not go to Draenor to personally command the local battles, so they could only remotely control them through the inter-stellar communication device set up by Romul.
Since intelligence has not yet been shared with the Alliance, the Alliance nations do not yet know that Khadgar, Kurdran, and others are still alive.
Turalyon's disappearance gave Andreas the urge to complain; this fellow, as always, embarked on the path of a protagonist, getting caught in a spatial rift and reuniting with the Army of the Light even on a casual outing.
Illidan's forces alone would likely be insufficient to fight the Burning Legion. With the help of the Alliance Expeditionary Force and the Draenei garrison, Illidan eventually successfully breached Kiljaedens Throne.
However, a serious disagreement arose between the Draenor allied forces and Illidan when discussing the policy for dealing with Magtheridon.
Khadgar, Ysera, and others strongly advocated for killing this Pit Lord, to avoid future complications.
But Illidan argued that demons could resurrect infinitely, and advocated for imprisoning Magtheridon for research.
Neither side could persuade the other, and they eventually parted ways unhappily.
The arrogant Illidan, disregarding the recent assistance from the Alliance Expeditionary Force and the Draenei, took Magtheridon without a word and imprisoned him deep beneath Hellfire Citadel.
By the time Khadgar, Ysera, and others realized what was happening, a group of red-skinned Fel Orcs had already begun to rampage across Hellfire Peninsula.
These Fel Orcs were catalyzed by Illidan force-feeding large amounts of Pit Lord blood to the Shattered Hand orcs.
Fel Orcs are more berserk than green-skinned orcs; their thought patterns have completely deviated from the normal human scope, akin to the law of the jungle where the strong prey on the weak, much like demons.
Honor Hold, built by the Alliance, was immediately attacked by these Fel Orcs after their appearance. These crazy red-skinned orcs possessed extraordinary combat power, stronger than the previous green-skinned orcs, and Danath, leading the defense, suffered a minor setback due to insufficient preparation.
Illidan, who changed his mind like flipping a book, infuriated Khadgar and Ysera. This demon, originally a Night Elf, was indeed as Speaker Moonshadow described: capable of short-term cooperation but not to be deeply trusted.
Illidan didn't care about any of that. The Fel Orcs had just gained new power and needed to master this new power mode through battle.
Kiljaeden's second wave of reinforcements had not yet arrived, so the natural training targets were the Alliance forces camped opposite Hellfire Citadel.
If he were facing his former kin, the Night Elves, Illidan might hesitate. Humans? Dwarves? What are those? Can they be eaten?
..."Heh~"
Andreas, who had returned to Astranaar, chuckled softly, then transmitted the latest intelligence from Draenor, just received from Velen, to the Council members.
"That demon..."
Maiev looked at the intelligence report in her hand, gnashing her teeth, "One day I will drag him back to the Vault of the Wardens, imprison him in the lowest level of the dungeon, and subject him to the cruelest punishment!"
Although Tyrande also couldn't understand Illidan's increasingly outrageous behavior, upon hearing Maiev's malicious curse, the High Priestess frowned and retorted, "High Warden, please mind your words."
Maiev raised an eyebrow, challenging her without showing weakness, "What? Feeling sorry for him? Didn't you consider the consequences when you released him?"
"You!"
"Enough!"
Fandral impatiently hammered the table, "You two, are you finished or not? Please remember your positions; this is not a marketplace for common scolds."
"What did you say?!"
The straight-laced man's adding fuel to the fire made Andreas helplessly rub his forehead. 'Brother, is this your way of breaking up a fight?'
Ever since Tyrande unilaterally decided to release Illidan, Maiev, who already had a poor relationship with Tyrande due to the High Priestess' position falling to her, frequently made sarcastic remarks.
According to Celeste and Fandral, who remained in Astranaar, the two found reasons to argue almost every day, so it was no wonder that Fandral, who already had a short temper, was so impatient.
Andreas, who had the authority to stop them, had gone to Northrend to eradicate the Lich King, while Malfurion had once again sunk into the Dream to deal with the elusive Xavius.
Relying solely on the hot-tempered Fandral, the inexperienced Celeste, and the soft-spoken Jarod, there was no way to stop their daily bickering.
"Thump thump~"
Andreas tapped the table with his finger, his expression somewhat cold as he said, "You two, I know you've disliked each other since the ancient times, and the High Priestess' unauthorized actions before the Battle of Mount Hyjal only intensified the conflict."
"I don't care how you argue in private, but at least maintain a professional attitude in the Council Chambers."
"Please remember your identities; you are the decision-makers of the vast Night Elf Republic. Every action you take in this Council hall could affect tens of millions of people in the country. Do not let yourselves go here."
Andreas had been in power for thousands of years, and the accumulated prestige had long since become formidable. Even the unruly Tyrande and Maiev had to give face to him as Speaker.
Moreover, Andreas' words were reasonable. This was, after all, a solemn place for determining national policy, and many officials outside were waiting for orders to be issued. Arguing in the Council hall would damage their respective images.
"Hmph!"
"Tsk!"
Seeing that the two had finally calmed down and ceased their hostilities, Fandral secretly gave Andreas a thumbs-up, receiving an annoyed glare from Andreas.
"Alright, let's talk about Illidan."
Andreas tapped the returned report with his index finger. "The Alliance Expeditionary Force and the Aldor have simultaneously sent protests. They refuse to cooperate with Illidan against the Burning Legion any longer, and may even engage in direct conflict with the Fel Orcs under Illidan's control. What are your thoughts?"
Tyrande was the first to speak, trying to distance herself, "Illidan has separated from the Night Elves. His actions are entirely personal decisions. What's the point of protesting to us?"
Everyone present frowned at her words. Andreas gave this cold woman a deep look.
'Is she really treating Illidan as just a tool? Give him a little favor when he's useful, then kick him aside without mercy when he's not?'
Tyrande and Malfurion's relationship was very deep; she had unfailingly chosen Malfurion since ten thousand years ago, and had never changed, even when often left alone.
However, Tyrande's previous act of breaking into the prison to rescue Illidan could easily cause a misunderstanding for the single-minded Illidan, making him think Tyrande still harbored feelings for him.
Andreas didn't know if Tyrande was intentionally acting this way or if it was simply a coincidence, but her drastically different attitudes towards Illidan were truly somewhat exasperating.
Maiev opened her mouth to retort, but then remembered Andreas' reminder and swallowed her unspoken words.
"Ahem~ that's one way to put it."
Andreas proactively broke the somewhat awkward atmosphere. "But in my vision, Illidan should ideally take on the heavy responsibility of defending Draenor and attracting the Burning Legion's firepower."
"If necessary, I still hope the Alliance Expeditionary Force and the Aldor can lend a hand. Does anyone have a way to resolve the conflict between the two sides?"
"Impossible."
Tyrande said decisively, "I know Illidan. He's a stubborn person. Once he sets a goal, he'll charge straight ahead until the end, kicking aside anyone who stands in his way without hesitation."
Andreas twitched his lips, muttering inwardly, 'Except for you...'
Tyrande was unaware of Andreas' silent complaint. With her hands clasped on the table, she continued, "Since he's determined to use the Alliance Expeditionary Force for training, he absolutely won't stop before the Burning Legion's second wave of reinforcements arrive, unless we can divert his attention with another more suitable target."
"A more suitable target?"
A flash of inspiration struck Andreas. He thought of a faction more suitable for Illidan to wreak havoc upon.
Of the remaining forces in Draenor, the mightiest were neither the Auchenai—who were spread thin across three cities and short on mobile troops—nor the Alliance Expeditionary Force scattered across the land. It was the brown-skinned natives who still held every inch of Nagrand.
"Nagrand?"
Ysera listened to Romul's relayed message, a thoughtful look on her face.
"So that's how it is."
Khadgar caught on quickly; he slapped his palm in realization. "Divert the flood—let Illidan's red-skinned Fel Orcs run rampant over their brown-skinned cousins in Nagrand."
"Uh…"
Danas froze, rubbing his shining, receding hairline. "Isn't that a bit underhanded?"
"Underhanded my ass!"
Kurdran, Wildhammer High Thane, dug in his nose and sneered. "Better orcs slaughter orcs than bleed my boys. Neither side's worth a damn anyway."
Ysera hesitated, but memories of orcish atrocities soon had her nodding. "So be it. Lure those brown-skinned Mag'har here to clash with the Fel Orcs and pull Illidan's attention away."
"Now that Illidan's moved against the orcs, he'll want more Fel Orcs. To him, demon blood-tested orcs are worth far more than grinding against the Alliance."
...Under Andreas' long-distance orchestration, the brown-skinned Mag'har stationed at the outpost in northwestern Hellfire Peninsula were lured toward Hellfire Citadel.
Illidan, then studying spatial rifts, took interest at once; he flew to the ramparts to eye the Mag'har from afar.
"Interesting."
Illidan's lips curled. "Where did these brown orcs come from? Are there more of them on Draenor?"
"There are," Vashj replied, puzzled. "Yesterday the Expeditionary Force sent word: the Mag'har stronghold lies on the Nagrand steppes—tens of thousands of brown orcs, they say."
"Oh?" Illidan gave a cold laugh. "Trying to use me as their spear? Fine… as long as I profit."
"Vashj, take Zangarmarsh. Seize the swamps, locate every rift, scout whatever lies beyond, and report back."
"As you command."
"Kargath, as for your fellow orcs… need I spell it out?"
"Hah!"
The red-skinned Kargath Bladefist pounded his iron fist against his chest. "Leave it to me! I'll bring you more Fel Orcs—for the destruction of the Burning Legion!"
More than half of Kargath's loyalty to Illidan was willing; after learning the truth of Draenor's ruin, the stranded orc had come to hate the Legion with every fiber of his being.
Long a slave in Ogre gladiatorial pits, Kargath bowed readily when it served his interests, far more so than other unruly chieftains.
Traditional orcs crave strength, and Illidan kept his promise: the Shattered Hand Clan drank demon blood anew, gaining power—until the Legion burned, Kargath would obey. And so events unfolded just as Andreas foresaw: the moment Illidan spotted the Mag'har as a fresh troop source, he lifted the siege of Honor Hold and ordered Kargath to strike the Mag'har outpost instead.
After Vashj claimed Zangarmarsh and built Coilfang Reservoir, she sent Naga scouts south into the Nagrand steppes—and indeed found brown orcs in great numbers.
Following Draenor's shattering, the Draenei held Shadowmoon Valley and Tanaan Jungle, while the Expeditionary Force pushed northwest from Hellfire Peninsula.
Zangarmarsh had been ceded by Khadgar; the remaining Alliance troops marched north into the much-changed Gorgrond—now called Blades Edge Mountains.
Guided by the Alliance and the Draenei, Illidan clashed with the Mag'har; every captured brown orc was dragged to Hellfire Citadel for demon blood infusion.
Untainted by prior exposure, many Mag'har died when the first massive doses were pumped into them.
Illidan learned from the failures: following Kargath's advice, he fed the captives demon blood in measured batches.
Brown turned green, then—after a time—green turned red, completing the transformation into Fel Orcs.
The experiment succeeded; Nagrand's orcs entered an age of misery. Ecstatic, Illidan poured troops through Zangarmarsh into Nagrand, seizing Mag'har by the thousands.
Meanwhile Kiljaeden's second wave arrived—not dropping into heavily guarded Hellfire Peninsula, but into the Netherstorm northeast of Blade's Edge.
Netherstorm was a bizarre region born after Draenor's ruin; once the island of Farahlon, home of botani and podlings.
The cataclysm shattered Farahlon into floating shards adrift in the void, forming a surreal and magnificent landscape.
Exposed directly to the cosmos, the storm was bombarded by wild Arcane energies; outsiders even arrived—Ethereal cosmic traders who carved out holdings within Netherstorm.
When the Burning Legion descended, they clashed at once with the Ethereals; overwhelmed, the traders sent envoys to the rest of Draenor for aid.
Illidan's entry twisted Draenor's balance; local defenders and the Legion fought ever harder, Illidan's Fel Orcs bearing the brunt of the defense.
While holding the Legion at bay, Illidan scoured for rifts—and at last found a world called Nathreza, homeworld of the Nathrezim… "Heh—Illidan's doing rather well."
Receiving reports from Draenor, Andreas chuckled. "The Nathrezim homeworld—one of the Legion's major strongholds."
"If Illidan can raze it, he should squeeze plenty of vital Legion intel out of the Dreadlords' archives."
With Draenor's situation on track under Andreas' remote control, he told High Priest Hataru to keep watch and turned his gaze toward the stabilizing Eastern Kingdoms.
Kel'Thuzad, lately entrenched in Capital City, received a sudden soul-call; without hesitation he led most of Lordaeron's undead to the northern coast, boarded ships—and vanished.
Yet before sailing he sent word to Andreas.
The summons came from the Lich King before his slumber: Kel'Thuzad must ferry the bulk of Lordaeron's undead to a remote isle, there to await his master's return after the soul-merge.
Cautious as ever, the Lich King revealed no location; Kel'Thuzad played the loyal servant, steering countless undead out to sea—yet kept the isle's coordinates from Andreas.
At the time Alliance armies massed around Andorhal and the Plaguelands' wall, bickering over Princess Calia and Garithos.
By the time a belated Varian received the intelligence Niana had deliberately delayed, Gilneas—forewarned—had already seized Capital City.
Gilneas had quit the Alliance after the Second War; prying Capital City from them would be no easy feat, and the kings of the Alliance began protracted haggling with Brunhilde.
It was in this climate that Andreas accepted Gilneas' invitation to act as neutral guarantor, ensuring fair dealings between Gilneas and the Alliance.
When Andreas next saw Rhonin, his gaze slid first to the elegantly dressed beauty clinging like a koala to Rhonin's left arm.
"So—what do you call someone who's heaven-blessed?"
Although he hadn't seen her in person, the crest of Lordaeron hanging from the chest of this gorgeously dressed beauty made it clear: she was the last bloodline of the Menethil family, Princess Calia.
Having just forced Arthas to jump into the sea in Northrend, only to turn around and meet his sister, who had lost a portion of her memories, Andreas couldn't help but feel a bit awkward.
Calia herself didn't mind at all. She had lost her memories related to Arthas, and in her current cognition, the concept of a "younger brother" simply didn't exist.
Rhonin's face was full of helplessness. He never expected that after just going out on a mission, he would return to find himself with a "fiancée" dropped out of the blue.
Antonidas, the Archmage of the Kirin Tor, was more than happy to see this happen. After all, it was undoubtedly a good thing for Dalaran.
The old mage had originally intended for Rhonin to succeed him as the leader of the Kirin Tor, but he had changed his mind now.
If Rhonin could become a Prince Consort of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, he would be far more valuable to Dalaran than if he continued as a councilor or even the Archmage.
As for a new successor, Antonidas wasn't worried. Jaina's return had, to some extent, filled the void left by Rhonin's departure.
Although Jaina was also royalty of Kul Tiras, she had Derrick, the immovable eldest son and crown prince, above her. As long as nothing happened to Derrick, the throne would never fall to her.
After a meeting with Antonidas, Daelin quickly agreed to the proposal put forward by the soon-to-be-retired old mage.
If Jaina could become the leader of Dalaran, it would also be a benefit for Kul Tiras. It would help increase Kul Tiras' voice and influence on the continent, so both sides reached an immediate agreement.
Calia's return and her amnesia subtly influenced the global situation. If she could successfully take the throne and restore Lordaeron, it would trigger a series of chain reactions among the political powers in the northern part of the Eastern Kingdoms.
However, for Lordaeron to restore its kingdom, there were still two obstacles that needed to be cleared.
The first was Garithos, who had recently become much quieter.
This baron, who styled himself the Grand Marshal of Lordaeron, refused to recognize Calia's legitimacy. He used the princess' mental state as an excuse to refuse his duty as a Lordaeron noble to honor the royal family.
Anyone with eyes could see this guy was just being stubborn. Back when Rhonin brought Calia back, Taelan Fordring, who guarded the passage between the Western and Eastern Plaguelands, had blocked Garithos when he attempted to retreat to Blackwood Lake to set himself up as a local warlord.
Taelan Fordring was the High Lord of Hearthglen and the only son of Tirion Fordring, one of the Five original Paladins.
Tirion had released a captured Orc out of his own convictions. For this, he was stripped of the Light by The Knights of the Silver Hand and expelled from the ranks of the Paladins.
When Tirion was exiled, Taelan was still young. To prevent his son from growing up under the shadow of his father's shame, Tirion had his wife tell Taelan before he left that his father was dead.
Upon receiving the news from his mother, the young Taelan, who was starting to understand things, had wailed and cried several times.
However, the actual situation was not as Taelan understood it. At this moment, Tirion, disguised as an old farmer, stood by the banks of the Sodrial River, looking at Taelan's camp from afar, gratified to see his son gradually growing into a man who could stand on his own.
But Tirion was not without hidden concerns. After Tirion's wife died of illness, Taelan had no guide by his side to advise him and lead the way. If someone took advantage of this void, they might lead the developing Taelan in the wrong direction.
Garithos' early attempt to retreat had already exposed his guilty conscience. If it weren't for the fact that Calia completely forgot everything that happened after she left Tyrs Hand, he probably would have launched an armed rebellion and fled back to his hometown to start an "uprising" long ago.
Even so, Garithos remained in the Alliance camp like he was sitting on pins and needles.
Although he possessed decent military talent, as a low-ranking noble born a baron, he was ultimately not a seasoned politician educated in the ruthless ways of statecraft. Playing mind games was not his strength.
Garithos was the first obstacle to Calia's coronation and the restoration of the kingdom. As for the second... it was naturally the Kingdom of Gilneas, which currently occupied the Capital City of Lordaeron.
After the devastation of the Scourge, the Capital City of Lordaeron was no longer the prosperous sight it once was.
After Kel'Thuzad received the Lich King's order to flee, Andreas received a message from the Archlich immediately and secretly informed Brunhilde through Niana.
The friendship between Brunhilde and Andreas had lasted for dozens of centuries, making it far more solid than those human kingdoms that changed leaders every few decades.
The Night Elf Republic had lent a helping hand when Gilneas needed it most, and since then, they had maintained a good relationship with this small matriarchal nation that had been suppressed by Lordaeron in a corner of the Tirisfal mountains.
Upon receiving Andreas' message and learning that the Capital City of Lordaeron and Tirisfal Glades were largely empty, Brunhilde immediately realized that the opportunity to expand the Kingdom of Gilneas had arrived.
Leaving only a small garrison to guard the mountain passes, Brunhilde led her entire army to storm the Capital City of Lordaeron.
The intelligence provided by Andreas was very accurate. Kel'Thuzad had taken the vast majority of the Scourge forces with him when he retreated. The remaining remnants were cleared out in less than an hour, without causing a single casualty to the Gilnean army.
Niana deliberately created a time delay, waiting half a day before informing the Alliance kings of Kel'Thuzad's retreat.
By the time the Alliance army, dragging an unwilling Garithos along, arrived before the Capital City of Lordaeron, the city walls were already covered with the Lightning trident banners of the Kingdom of Gilneas.
When Andreas arrived, the first round of negotiations had already ended, and the two sides had failed to reach a consensus at the table.
Brunhilde deliberately made an outrageous opening demand, requiring the fallen Lordaeron to cede the Capital City and large swaths of Tirisfal Glades before she would agree to support Princess Calia's restoration.
Such conditions were naturally rejected by all the Alliance leaders, including Calia.
Even if it was in ruins, the Capital City remained a vital bargaining chip for the restoration of Lordaeron.
Taking back the Capital City and re-establishing the nation represented that Lordaeron had expelled the Scourge undead that had caused them such deep suffering. Only then could they maximize the gathering of lost public support.
With the fall of Andorhal and the escape of Kel'Thuzad, most of the remaining undead in the Eastern Kingdoms were gathered in Stratholme in the Eastern Plaguelands.
Poor Baron Rivendare's orders were likely to hold the city at all costs. The Lich King had deliberately left this sacrificial pawn rooted in the last Scourge stronghold in the Eastern Kingdoms to distract the Alliance's attention.
Quel'Thalas and the Scarlet Crusade were currently engaging the undead near the back gate of Stratholme. Although they held the upper hand in the grand scheme of things, it would be difficult to form an overwhelming advantage in a short time.
The Eastern Plaguelands remained a mess, and the Western Plaguelands were being eyed covetously by the Kingdom of Alterac. If the Tirisfal Glades, the core of the kingdom, were lost in large portions, the restoration of Lordaeron would be meaningless.
The focus of the bickering between the Kingdom of Gilneas and the Alliance was mainly the ownership of Tirisfal Glades and the Western Plaguelands.
The Kingdom of Alterac hoped to force the Kingdom of Gilneas back, making them hand over large parts of Tirisfal territory, including the Capital City of Lordaeron.
The actual demands of the Kingdom of Gilneas were similar; Brunhilde deliberately used the outrageous opening demand to pressure Lordaeron, forcing Calia to take the initiative to concede part of the Tirisfal Glades territory.
Using this as a bargaining chip, the Kingdom of Gilneas was willing to help Lordaeron secure its territory in the Western Plaguelands, including Andorhal.
The Kingdom of Gilneas and the Kingdom of Alterac, who had previously cooperated against Lordaeron, now sat at the negotiation table for their own interests. Their demands were almost completely opposite, and the sharp verbal sparring at the table left Garithos completely bewildered.
After saying goodbye to the "couple," Rhonin and Calia, Andreas met with Niana face-to-face for the first time in a while.
Rubbing the head of the increasingly mature and capable Niana encouragingly, Andreas learned about the current progress of affairs from his young apprentice.
Andreas said with some emotion, "As expected, there are no permanent friendships or enmities between nations, only the eternal exchange of interests."
In Andreas' view, Garithos' stance no longer mattered.
Carried along by the main Alliance army, the self-declared Grand Marshal of Lordaeron had lost every chance to break away; he was nothing but a slab of meat on the chopping block, and sooner or later Calia would carve him up.
Though Garithos commanded a hundred thousand men, most were refugees conscripted en route—no match for Alliance regulars.
Nor did every officer share his ambition; once word came that Princess Calia lived, many hastily promoted commanders among his ranks quickly swore themselves to the last scion of House Menethil.
The final obstacle to Lordaeron's restoration now lay in Gilneas' demands and whether it would stay or leave.
Kingdoms like Stormwind, Dalaran, Kul Tiras and Khaz Modan—none of which bordered Lordaeron—had no wish to step into the core negotiations, merely muddying the waters between Gilneas and Alterac.
Prince Varian hoped to seize the chance to invite Gilneas back into the Alliance, expanding its reach and influence.
Yet as the Alliance's de-facto leader, Stormwind also had to weigh Alterac's claims; the sticking point was how to divide the spoils.
Once home to millions, Lordaeron had seen its population gutted by the Scourge. Counting everyone sheltering at the Lights Hope Chapel and Tyr's Hand, it might barely exceed a million.
And the Western Plaguelands, once the kingdom's granary, lay in ruins, its air still thick with lingering plague; years would pass before it could feed anyone again.
This left Lordaeron with a harsh truth: it could no longer hold its vast territories. Ceding land for foreign backing was unavoidable.
The question was where.
Calia had never received Terenas' formal tutelage, yet a lifetime in the palace had given her a feel for the bigger picture.
First and foremost, Capital City had to be retaken; only beneath its banners could scattered citizens be lured home.
After Varian and the other leaders explained, Calia grasped what Gilneas truly wanted.
They had no wish to occupy the capital itself—only to claim land in Tirisfal Glades.
With the Eastern Plaguelands still in enemy hands, at least one stretch of Tirisfal or the Western Plaguelands had to remain under royal control.
Weighing her options, Calia chose to reclaim the capital first, ceding western Tirisfal—those reaches bordering Silverpine—to Gilneas.
In return she would win Gilneas' backing and force Alterac to abandon its covetous gaze on Andorhal and the Western Plaguelands.
Brunhilde's subtle nudges toward this choice served her own designs.
Silverpine still crawled with stray undead, yet the scattered Scourge were little more than a nuisance.
Since Gilneas had madly forsaken all lands beyond the Greymane Wall, Gilneas could simply walk in and take them.
But Gilneas' current territory did not touch Silverpine; she needed to wring from Lordaeron a western wedge of forest so any conquest would not become an isolated exclave.
Though Baron Barov of Alterac railed against it, Calia finally set her mind.
She ceded all land west of Hearthglen, south of Solliden Farmstead and Caer Darrow.
Thus Gilneas gained a direct border with Silverpine and could push into the lands Gilneas had abandoned.
Conveniently, that part of Silverpine touching Hillsbrad Foothills was also in Alterac's sights.
Bent on retaking the capital, Calia gave Axelus no room; yet once Brunhilde hinted Gilneas and Alterac might each seize what they could in Silverpine, Alterac yielded.
Alterac's troops quit Andorhal, and the Alliance helped Lordaeron reclaim the whole of the Western Plaguelands.
Andreas, representing the Night Elves, witnessed the pact and kindly pledged druids to help restore the Western Plaguelands' blighted soil, returning life to the once-rich granary.
As for the Eastern Plaguelands, the exhausted kingdom could not yet march east; the Scarlet Crusade and Argent Dawn would hold the line for now.
Though she had surrendered part of Tirisfal, Lordaeron at last won recognition from every Alliance nation.
Prince Varian personally promised the materiel needed to rebuild—repayment, in a way, for Lordaeron's past help in restoring Stormwind.
Having gnawed its fill of concessions, Gilneas gladly rejoined the Alliance; Brunhilde and Axelus agreed to split Silverpine from north and east, taking what they could.
Apart from the much-shrunken Lordaeron, the biggest loser in this bargain was Gilneas itself.
Varian had little love for the insular kingdom, now outside the Alliance; abandoning Silverpine had been Greymane's own decision—better them than us.
By carving up Gilneas' old lands they quieted the quarrel between Gilneas and Alterac, calming the north of the Eastern Kingdoms. The leaders left troops to help retake the Western Plaguelands, then set out for home.
Before that, the would-be warlord Garithos had to be dealt with.
Having cast off every memory tied to Arthas, Calia believed herself the true heir Terenas had raised.
Under her fierce determination, Niana—secretly tutored by Andreas—was startled by the princess' swift progress.
Some of Garithos' generals were former Knights of the Silver Hand.
These paladins had joined neither the overly cautious Argent Dawn nor the fanatical Scarlet Crusade.
Instead they served the unscrupulous lord, helping him smash through the Western Plaguelands' undead in hope of retaking the capital and restoring the kingdom.
Had Princess Calia never appeared, they would have had no choice but to back the strongest contender—Garithos—as king.
Calia first sent loyal Menethil retainers to contact these generals, laying bare the danger of Garithos' private army.
The former Silver Hand paladins already chafed at his overbearing ways; his strident human-supremacism grated against their open, just creed.
Offered the future queen's olive branch, they needed little persuasion to switch sides.
The highest-ranked among them was Mograine—Alexandros Mograine.
In this altered timeline he was not yet the Ashbringer, yet his command and combat skill remained formidable.
At Mograine's open call, the wavering remnants of Garithos' army flocked to the royal banner.
Garithos had long sensed the noose tightening; he slept in his clothes, starting at every night-sound.
When clamor erupted inside his camp, he leapt up to flee.
Too late: Mograine and Fairbanks had ringed his tent with elite guards.
From the broken walls of Capital City, Andreas watched Garithos roar in helpless fury as his own men bound him and dragged him away.
'The Eastern Kingdoms are calming at last; we should have a stretch of peace ahead.'