Chapter 4 Chapter Four

"As you can see, Your Highness," said Lieutenant-General Aedlas Blackmoore. "Tax money is well spent. All precautions are in place. In fact, the security is pretty solid, and we all hold gladiatorial matches here." "I've heard it all." Alsace and the Asylum The commander walked and talked in the courtyard.Dunholde is a huge castle, not only an asylum itself, but also the nerve center of all asylums.At the moment, there is almost a festive atmosphere in the city.It was a fresh and bright autumn day, and the breeze blowing made the blue and white flags flutter over the fortress.They walked on the city wall, and the wind ruffled Blackmoore's long black hair and tugged at Arthas' cloak.

"You can still see it with your own eyes." Blackmoore assured the prince with a flattering smile. This surprise inspection was Alsace's idea.Tenaris praised Arthas for his positivity and compassion. "It's all good and harmless, my lord." Alsace said so, and almost thought so, although the primary purpose of his remonstrance was to satisfy the curiosity about the lieutenant general's orc pet. "We should make sure that the money goes to the shelter and not in Blair Moore's pocket. We can also investigate whether he treats the participants of the gladiatorial match properly, while ensuring that Black Moore does not follow the old path of his father." Blackmoore's father, General Adelin Blackmoore, was a notorious traitor, guilty of betraying state secrets.

Even though the crime had happened many years ago, when Edras was just a boy, the stain had stayed with him throughout his service.Thanks to his record of victories on the battlefield, especially his prowess against the orcs, Blackmoore's rise through the ranks has risen steadily.Still, Arthas could smell the strong alcohol on the man's breath early in the morning.He guessed this was no news to Tenaris, but he had to warn his father. Arthas looked down, looking down at the dozens of guards on high alert with feigned interest.He wondered if they would be so alert without the future king watching.

"I'm looking forward to today's game," he said. "Can I see your slave play? I've heard a lot about him." Blackmoore smiled, showing his white teeth under a neatly trimmed goatee. "He didn't arrange a match today. But, Your Highness, in order to let you enjoy yourself, I will arrange for him to play a match with the strongest opponent." Two hours later, the tour ended.Alsace and Blackmoore had a good lunch. He was accompanied by a young Lord Callum Langton, whom Blair Moore described as his "protégé". Alsace noticed Langton's soft hands and lazy posture, and instinctively disliked him.Blackmoore's title was at least earned on the battlefield, but everything about this kid was passed down from his ancestors.Although Langton was actually older than seventeen-year-old Alsace, Alsace regarded him as a child.

Well, actually I am the same.But at least Arthas knew what sacrifices a king needed to make, he thought.Langston never seemed to abstain from anything in his lifetime.Even now he was devouring the best meats, the most luxurious pastries without restraint, and serving them down with large glasses of wine.Blackmoore, by comparison, didn't eat much, though he was still more likely to drink than Langdon.When the maid walked into the restaurant, Alsace's dislike for the two reached its peak.The girl with blond hair and scantily clad clothes smiled admiringly when Blackmoore touched her wantonly.But Arthas quickly caught the flash of displeasure in her blue eyes.

"This is Taretha Folkestone," said Blackmoore, one hand still stroking the girl's arm, as she cleared away the dishes. "Her father is my servant Tamis, I believe you will meet soon." Alsace smiled at the girl as much as possible. Her sun-bright hair and tanned skin reminded the prince a little of Jaina.She returned a quick smile, then, dignifiedly, cleared away the dishes, curtseyed, and left. "You'll have one soon too, boy," Blackmoore said with a smile.Arthas froze for a second before he understood, then blinked in shock.The two laughed harder, and Blackmoore raised his goblet to toast him.

"For the blond chick," he muttered.Arthas thought of Taretha, then of Jaina, and forced himself to raise his glass too. An hour later, Arthas had forgotten Taresa Folkestone and his resulting anger.His voice was hoarse from screaming, his hands ached from clapping, and it was the happy time of his life. At first, he felt a little uncomfortable.In the beginning, the gladiatorial fights were just beasts fighting each other, fighting to the death just to please the audience. "How were they treated before this?" Alsace asked.He loves animals, and seeing them treated like this disturbs him.

Langston opened his mouth, but Blackmoore quickly gave him a silent gesture.Smiling, he leaned back on the deck chair, grabbed a bunch of grapes and said, "Well, of course we want them to be in peak condition. So they are treated well when they are caught. And you see, the game goes fast.If an animal survives and becomes incapable of further fighting, it is immediately and mercifully killed. "Arthas hoped he was telling the truth. Although he felt uncomfortable that Blackmoore might be lying, he chose to ignore it. When the race began between man and beast, all the uncomfortable feelings disappeared.As he watched with interest, Blackmoore said: "These people are well paid, and actually, they're a little bit famous." But not the orc.Alsace knew this and recognized it.He'd been waiting here to see Blackmoore's orc pet.The orc picked up as a baby and raised as a fighter in the arena.

Blackmoore did not disappoint him.Apparently the fight so far has been nothing but heat.Everyone stood up and shouted as the door creaked open and a huge green figure strode forward, and Arthas found himself somehow moving with the flow.Thrall was huge, partly because he was obviously much healthier and alerter than the other orc individuals Arthas had seen in the asylum.He didn't wear a helmet, and he had very little armor on his body, with muscles knotted under his green skin.He also stands taller than other orcs.The cheers were deafening, and Thrall walked around the field, fists raised, ugly face greeted the rain of roses that usually only splashed on festivals.

"I taught him to do that," said Blackmoore proudly. "It's strange how people cheer for him and expect him to be defeated every time." "Has he ever lost?" "Never, my lord. He won't lose either. But people always count on this, and the money will flow in." Alsace stared at him, "Lieutenant General, as long as the royal treasury can get its due share, you are allowed to continue these games. ’ He turned to the orc, watching him complete his lap. "He...is in full control, isn't he?" "Of course." Blackmoore replied immediately. "He was raised by humans and knows how to respect us." As if hearing Blackmoore's comments, Thrall turned to Alsace, Blackmoore, and Langton, and bowed his chest deeply to salute them.Although it was practically impossible for him to hear, the shouts of the crowd around him thundered like thunder.

"You see? He's mine," Blackmoore muttered.He got up and waved one flag, while a burly red-haired man across the arena waved another.Thrall turned to face the door, clutching the weapon in his hand, a huge battleaxe. The guards began to raise the door, and before it was fully opened, a bear with the same size as Invincible had rushed out.It rushed straight at Thrall like a fired shell, the mane on its neck stood on end, and its roar drowned out the shouts of the crowd. Thrall didn't move in place, only took a step to the side at the last moment, swung the huge battle ax in his hand as if nothing had happened, and tore a considerable wound on the bear's side rib.The animal turned around, howling frantically, blood gushing out.The orc was still standing there with bare feet, and then suddenly he started moving at a speed that was out of proportion to his size.Thrall faced the bear head-on, roaring in standard Common, and swung the ax down.The bear's head was almost chopped off, and it continued to rush forward a few steps, then fell to the ground and spread into a ball. Thrall threw back his head and shouted victory.The crowd began to shout frantically, and Arthas stared at him. From here, the orc didn't appear to be hurt at all, and the savage didn't even catch his breath. "This is just the beginning." Blackmoore smiled at Alsace's reaction, and said, "Next, he will fight three people, and the rule is that they cannot be killed. This time we can't rely on brute force, we have to use tactics." to win. But I have to say, seeing him kill the bear with one blow made me even prouder." Three tall, muscular human gladiators entered the arena, saluting their opponents and the crowd.Thrall looked at his opponent while Arthas watched him, wondering how "wise" Blackmoore had been to teach his pet orc to fight so well.If Thrall escaped, he might pass these skills on to other orcs. This could happen despite heightened security. After all, if Orgrim Doomhammer can escape from a deep palace like a dungeon, Thrall can escape from Durnholde. The state visit will last for five days.One night, Taretha Folkestone came to the prince's residence.Alsace was very surprised that his entourage didn't answer the door, and he was even more surprised when he saw this beautiful blond girl standing outside the door with a basket of pastries.Her eyes were downcast and she was scantily clad, although the Prince did not immediately point to the latter. Taretha curtseyed. "Master Blackmoore sent me to bring you these tributes," she said blushing, and the Prince was bewildered. "I...well, thank your master for me. I'm not hungry, though. And, I wonder, where have my slaves gone." "They were invited to dinner with other slaves." Taresa still lowered her head and explained. "Understood. Well, the Lieutenant General is very generous and hospitable, I think they will appreciate him." She didn't move. "Anything else, Taresa?" She blushed even more, and then she looked up at him with calm resignation in her eyes. "Master Blackmoore offers you the food... and me," she repeated. "Please do what you love." Alsace suddenly understood, feeling ashamed and angry at the same time.Yet he tried to calm himself down—it wasn't Taresa's fault, in fact, she was the victim. "Taresa," he said, "I will gladly accept the food. Nothing else." "I'm afraid your grace will be too great, Your Highness." "Tell him, I say that's all." "Sir, you I don't understand. If I go back like this, he will..." He glanced at Taresa's hand with the basket, and her long hair hanging down.Alsace stepped forward to uncover her hair, and saw the bruises on the girl's neck and wrists. "I see," he said. "Come in." When she entered the room, Arthas closed the door and turned to face her. "You can stay as long as you want, and then go back. Besides, I can't finish this by myself." He gestured for her to sit down, pulled a chair across from her, picked up a snack and laughed. Taresa blinked her eyes and was stunned for a moment before she understood.A relaxed and grateful expression flooded her face, and she spilled the wine in her hand.After a while, in addition to the polite language, she also began to answer the prince's questions.They talked for a few hours, then decided it was time for her to go back.Taresa picked up the basket and said to Alsace. "Your Highness, I am very happy because I know that the future king is a good man. How lucky is the lady you made your queen." He closed the door with a smile, and leaned on it for a while. He will be made Queen's Lady.He remembered his conversation with Calia.Fortunately, Tenaris had already begun to suspect Prestor.Although there is no evidence, it is worth thinking twice. Arthas is almost of age.He was a year older now than when Kalia was almost betrothed to Prestor.He thought it was time to start thinking about finding the queen. Tomorrow he will leave for the palace, and he doesn't want to delay any more. Winter is cold and harsh.The autumn flowers have passed away, and the golden and red staggered forests of the past are now only bare branches pointing to the gray sky.In a few months, Arthas would be nineteen years old, and he could not wait more than to join the Knights of the Silver Hand.The training with Muradin had ended months ago, and now Uther took over.There are some differences in content, but the same. Muradin taught wariness on the battlefield and a desire to win.Paladins, on the other hand, have a more ritualistic view of warfare, focusing more on the mentality of a person fighting than the manner in which he fights.Arthas felt that both theories made sense, but he doubted whether he would have the chance to apply what he had learned in actual combat. Usually at this time, he stayed in the prayer hall.But his father was on a foreign visit to Stromgarde, and Uther was with him.This meant that Alsace now had several afternoons at his disposal, and he had no intention of wasting them even if the weather was bad.He rode Wudi through the forest easily and skillfully, the few inches of snow on the ground only slowed the horse's pace a little.Invincible shook his head and snorted, and Arthas could see his breath and that of the white horse. It was snowing again, not the light, fluffy flakes, but tiny ridges of ice falling from the sky.Arthas frowned and continued on.As long as you walk a little further, you can turn around, he said to himself.Or he could stop at Barnier Farm.Alsace hadn't been there for some time, and Yoram and Jalim would be delighted to see what a fine horse the clumsy foal had become. The whim was out of control.Alsace's left leg touched Invincible, and the horse turned around obediently, executing the master's request flawlessly.The snow was getting heavier, piercing his bare skin like needles, and Arthas pulled up his cloak to protect his head.Invincible shook his head, his skin trembling like when he was infested by summer mosquitoes.It craned its neck forward and sprinted down the road with as much complacency as Alsace. They were soon at the roadblock, and the horses were given warm stables and the riders a mug of hot tea before heading back to the palace.Arthas's face was starting to go numb from the cold, and despite his good leather gloves, his hands weren't much better.His frozen hands tightened on the reins, flexing his fingers and huddling in as Invincible jumped high.No, he said to himself, not jumping, but flying!They leaped over the barrier and were about to—but they didn't fly.At the moment of taking off, Arthas felt horrified that Invincible's heel slipped on the icy stone.The horse struggled and neighed long, frantically kicking its legs trying to find a foothold in the air.Arthas felt a sudden pain in his throat, and he found himself screaming.Instead of soft, snow-covered grass, jagged rocks greeted their rapid descent. He held on to the rein tightly, as if it could be redeemed, as if things could be redeemed... There was a voice that woke him up from his coma, and he blinked and slowly regained consciousness.The sharp and piercing screams in his ears scratched his brain like sharp claws.He couldn't move at first, because his body was trembling instinctively, trying to stay away from the horrific howling.Arthas finally sat up, and let out a cry of pain.He may have broken a rib, maybe more than one. Now the snow is getting heavier and heavier, and it is difficult to see clearly from three steps away.He reluctantly turned his neck, trying to see where Invincible was. invincible.Its eyes were unable to move, and the pool of bright red blood steamed on the cold snow and gradually spread. "No!" Arthas whispered, struggling to stand up.In an instant, the world seemed to lose its color, and he almost passed out again.He moved slowly towards the terrified horse, almost knocked down by the pain and the wind, and it was only his will that kept him going. Invincible was still kicking his legs, trying to stand up again and again failed, the blood under his body was churned into a puddle of red and white snow.Its two strong hind legs were not injured, but the pair of slender, straight and strong front legs were now broken and twisted at a strange angle.Seeing this scene, Arthas felt his stomach tighten.Luckily, snowflakes and hot tears immediately blurred his vision. Sobbing, he threw himself on his horse, kneeling beside the crazy animal, trying to do... what? It wasn't a scrape, a simple bandage would have brought Invincible back to the warm stables with the hot chaff.Arthas reached out his hand, wanting to soothe its head and calm it down somewhat.However, Invincible was just maddened by the pain, screaming unceasingly. Somebody help me!Priests, Ser Uther...maybe they can heal...the boy felt more than physical pain at the moment.Both the Archbishop and Uther accompanied his father to Stromgarde.There might be priests in the nearby villages, but Alsace didn't know the direction, and besides the blizzard... Alsace took a few steps back, covered his ears with his hands and closed his eyes, and sobbed tremblingly.In such a snowstorm, it was impossible for him to find a healer in time, and he could only watch Wudi die in pain or severe cold.Alsace didn't even know if he could find Barnier's Farm, which was close at hand. The sky and the earth are white, except for the dying horse struggling in the pool of blood.It believed him so much that he jumped off the icy embankment.Arthas knew what he had to do, but he couldn't do it. He didn't know how long he sat there crying, his beloved steed writhing in pain, and he dared neither look nor listen.Finally, Invincible's struggle slowed down, and it lay on the snow, its ribs heaving and rolling its eyes in pain. Arthas lost all feeling in his face and hands, but he managed to move toward the horse.It was hard for him to breathe, but he needed the pain.This is his fault.his fault!Arthas rested the huge horse's head on his lap, and for a moment it seemed as if he were not sitting in the snow with a wounded animal, but sitting in a stable watching a mare give birth.That was the beginning of destiny, not the shocking and disgusting, avoidable ending that is now. His tears rolled down and fell on the horse's broad cheeks.Invincible trembled silently, his brown eyes widening.Alsace took off his gloves, stroked its reddish gray muscles, felt the warmth of Invincible's breath on his hands.Then, Alsace took the invincible horse's head off his thigh slowly, got up and drew the sword out of its sheath with slightly warmer hands.He stood beside the dying horse, his feet sunk in the red-stained slush. "I'm sorry." He said, "I'm sorry..." Invincible looked at him calmly and trustingly, as if he understood what was about to happen and knew that he had to do it.Arthas couldn't bear it anymore, tears blurred his vision again, he blinked and tried his best not to let it come out of his eyes. He raised his sword and stabbed straight down. At least this time it's doing well.Although the arm was frozen stiff, this blow pierced Invincible's heart. Arthas felt the long sword in his hand tear skin, penetrate muscle, graze bone, and then drive deep into the ground.Invincible arched his body tremblingly, and then stopped moving.After the snow stopped, Yoram and Jalim found Alsace, who was hugging the cooling corpse of the once full of life and vitality of the majestic horse.Arthas cried out in pain as the older man reached out to grab him. "Sorry, kid." Yoram's voice was so soft it was almost unbearable. "Sorry for hurting you, and sorry for the accident." "Yes." Alsace said weakly, "It was an accident...it slipped and fell..." "It's not surprising in this weather. The blizzard will come again soon, but fortunately you are still alive. Come... we will take you back, and then send someone to report to the palace." When the farmer picked him up, Arthas said, "Bury it in the... Is this okay? So I can come back and take a look?" Banier exchanged glances with his son, then nodded. "Yes, of course. It's a fine horse." Arthas turned his neck and looked at Invincible's corpse.He wants everyone to think it was an accident, he can't tell anyone what happened, he can't stand it. That's when he made a vow that if anyone needed to be protected, if anyone needed to be sacrificed, he would go forward. At any cost!