Chapter 15 Chapter fifteen

Before Muradin drew up the curtain of the tent and glared at Arthas fiercely, the prince heard the dwarf's fast and heavy footsteps.They looked at each other for a long time, and then Muradin threw his head out and lowered the tent.For a moment, Alsace seemed to have returned to the scene of the wooden sword flying across the room when he was a boy.Frowning, he stood up and followed Muradin to a place away from the crowd. The dwarf spoke bluntly. "You lied to your men and you betrayed the mercenaries who fought for you!" Muradin snapped, trying to raise his face to stare at him even though he was much shorter than Arthas. "This is not the child I trained; this is not the one who joined the Knights of the Silver Hand; this is not the child of King Tenaris."

"I'm not a child anymore!" Arthas retorted, pushing Muradin away. "It's all I have to do." He kind of wanted Muradin to punch him, but his old trainer seemed to have lost all anger. "What's wrong with you, Arthas?" Muradin whispered, pain and confusion in his voice. "Is revenge so important to you?" "Forgive me, Muradin." Arthas said with a suppressed voice, "You were not there to see with your own eyes what Mel'Ganis did to my homeland. What he did to innocent men, women, and children!" "I heard Said what you did." Muradin whispered, "How tight-lipped are some of your men after drinking too much. I know what I think-but I also know that I have no right to judge you. You say That's right, I wasn't there at the time. Thanks to Shengguang, I didn't have to make that decision, but, even if this... these things happened, you-"

The roar of mortars and sirens interrupted him. In the blink of an eye, Muradin and Arthas had picked up their weapons and ran back to the camp.Soldiers were still clamoring for weapons.Falric was commanding the humans, while Bergen commanded the dwarves.The sound of fighting came from outside the camp, and Arthas could see a large group of undead advancing step by step.He held the hammer tightly in both hands, and from all indications, it seemed that this was not an accidental encounter, but a coordinated attack. "The Lord of Darkness said you would come." A familiar voice came from Alsace, and he suddenly became excited.Mel'Ganis is indeed here!At last he was not wasting his efforts. "This is the end of your journey, child. Trapped on the frozen spine of the world, only death sings the dirge of your destruction."

Muradin scratched his beard and cast his sharp eyes into the distance.The sounds of battle sounded from outside the camp. "Things are not good," he said with typical dwarven understatement. "We're completely surrounded." Arthas stared in distress. "We could have done it," he whispered. "With Frostmourne...we could have done it." Muradin glanced at him, "Then... uh, boy, I've always had concerns about this sword. Honestly...to you too. " It took Arthas a moment to understand what Muradin meant. "You... you want to tell me that you figured out how to find it?"

Muradin nodded, and Arthas grabbed him. "Whatever your concerns, Muradin, this is not the time. Mel'Ganis is here. If you know where it is, take me there. Help me get Frostmourne!You said it yourself—Mel'Ganis didn't want to see me pick up Frostmourne.Mel'Ganis has more troops than us, without Frostmourne we'd be doomed, you know we'd be doomed! " Muradin looked at him annoyedly, then closed his eyes. "I have a bad feeling about it, boy, so I did my best. How the news of this treasure got out, it feels a little weird. But I promise you I will see it to the end. You go Gather some people, and I will take you to find the Rune Sword."

Arthas patted his old friend on the shoulder.That's right, I'm going to get that damned runeblade and use it to pierce your black heart, Dreadlord.I will make you pay. "Block the gap over there!" Falric yelled. "Darwan, fire!" Arthas rushed to his adjutant amidst the roar of mortars resounding through the camp. "Captain Farik!" Farik turned around. "Sir... we're completely surrounded. We'll last a while, but we won't be able to use them up. Who-what-we're dwindling in number, and they're growing." "I know, Captain. Muradin and I are going to find Frostmourne." Falric's eyes widened slightly, both shocked and hopeful.Arthas had told those he trusted most about the sword, and the great power it might hold. "Once we get it, we've won. Can you buy us some time?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Falik laughed, but he still looked a little worried, "We will hold back these undead bastards." Moments later, Muradin joined Arthas and a few others, carrying a map and a strange glowing object.He frowned and looked displeased, but he stood up straight.Falric signaled, disrupting and suddenly attracting most of the undead's attention, clearing the back of the camp. "Let's go." Alsace said seriously. Muradin alternately looked at his map and the small, irregularly glowing thing, then called out directions.They walked through the thick snow in the direction he indicated as quickly as possible, stopping only occasionally to check the direction.The clouds rolled in and the sky dimmed.Snow began to fall, slowing them down considerably.Arthas moved mechanically.The heavy snow made him only able to see a few steps ahead, he no longer paid attention to or cared about the direction he was heading, but just moved behind Muradin.There seems to be no concept of time here, and he can't tell whether he walked for a few minutes or a whole few days.

Thoughts of Frostmourne filled his mind.That was their savior.Alsace knew it would be.But can they get it before his minions are wiped out by the undead and their demonic masters?Fariq said they would last a while.How long can it last?Knowing now that Mel'Ganis was here, right at the gate of his own stronghold, he couldn't be attacked.This is really—"Here." Muradin said almost respectfully, pointing. "It's inside." Alsace stopped walking, blinking his eyes narrowed in the wind and snow, frost had already formed on his eyelashes.In front of them was the entrance to a cave, the bare stone walls taking on an ominous color against the gray, snowy sky.There was some kind of light source in the cave, and he could barely catch a glimpse of the soft blue-green glow inside.Even though he was tired and cold, Alsace became excited and moved his stiff lips reluctantly to speak.

"Frostmourne... the end of Mel'Ganis. The end of the plague. Come!" He seemed to regain his energy, forcing his legs to speed up and walk forward. "Child!" Muradin's voice made him stop abruptly. "It's impossible to just leave such a precious treasure there as you like. We have to move forward little by little." Arthas was restless, but Muradin was more experienced in such matters.So he nodded, and walked in vigilantly with his hammer in hand.The blowing of the blizzard suddenly disappeared, so he cheered up and led the people towards the end of the cave step by step.He had seen light from the outside before, but now he knew it was veins of turquoise crystal shining softly on the stone walls, floor, and dome.He had heard of these glowing crystals before, and was delighted to have them for illumination.In this way, people don't have to hold torches, but can concentrate on holding weapons.Once, his hammer could shine to guide them.He frowned, not wanting to think about it again.As long as there is light, it doesn't matter where it comes from.

Just then, they heard those voices, Muradin said that someone was waiting for them. These deep, hollow, and cold voices drifted into Alsace's ears, spreading terrifying words. "Get out of here, mortal. Only death and darkness await you in this cave of oblivion. You cannot pass." Muradin stopped in his tracks. "Child," his voice was not loud, but there were endless echoes here. "Maybe we should listen." "Listen to what?" Alsace called out. "To thwart my last pitiful effort to save the people? That's going to have to be a little more gossip."

He held the hammer tightly and walked forward quickly. After turning a corner, he stopped suddenly, unable to understand the scene in front of him for a while. They found the owner of those cold voices.For a moment, Arthas remembered Jaina's control of the water elemental, back in the distant past, before everything became so cold and terrible, and she defeated the ogres with the help of the water elemental.But these things were formed not of water, but of ice and supernatural essences, and hovered above the cavern's cold rocky floor in armor that seemed like nature.They wear helmets, but no faces; gloves, weapons, and shields, but no arms. Arthas gave only a brief glance at the ghastly elementals, his eyes completely drawn to something else, and that was why they were here. Frostmourne. It was frozen in a large block of polygonal ice floating in the air, and the runes engraved on the blade of the blade shone with a cold blue light; underneath was a base with no visible material, built on a slightly raised piece covered with snow dust. on the huge mound.At the height of the cave, a soft light came down from the skylight and reflected on the rune sword.This layer of ice prison conceals some details of the sword body, and enlarges others, which makes it even more seductive and mysterious, just like a new lover who is half-covered by tulle.Arthas recognized the sword. It was the sword he had seen in his dream the first day he came to Northrend.That sword didn't kill Invincible, it healed his wounds and restored him to health.He had taken it as a good omen then, but now he knew it was a true omen.This is what he came looking for, the sword that would change everything.Arthas gazed at it in fascination, his hand longing to take the sword; his fingers curled around the hilt; his arm feeling the smooth dance of the sharp weapon, ending Mel'Ganis' life with a blow , to end the suffering he brought to the people of Lordaeron, to end this desire for vengeance.He walked forward as if being dragged. The elemental spirit drew its frozen sword. "Go away before it's too late," it chanted. "Still trying to protect the sword, eh?" Arthas growled under his breath, his reaction both angry and agitated. "No." The thing buzzed, "I want to protect you from harm." Alsace was surprised for a moment.Then he shook his head, narrowing his eyes resolutely.It's just a gimmick.He will never give up Frostmourne, never give up saving his people.He will not be deceived. Arthas charged forward, followed by his men.The things surged toward them, attacking with supernatural weapons.But Arthas focused his attention on the leader responsible for guarding Frostmourne, and he took out his pent-up hopes, worries, fears, and frustrations on this strange guardian.His men did the same, turning to attack another elemental swordsman.Arthas let out an angry roar from his throat, the war hammer rose and fell back and forth, and the ice armor was torn apart.How dare this thing get between him and Frostmourne?It was so courageous——finally, the elemental spirit let out a cry of pain like a dying person, raised its "hand" and disappeared. Arthas stared open-eyed and panted, the breath from his frozen lips frosted.Next, he turned to look at the hard-won spoils, and all his worries were swept away. "Look, Muradin." He took a breath, noticing that his voice was shaking. "Our savior, Frostmourne." "Slow down, kid." Muradin said bluntly, almost in a commanding tone, pouring cold water on Alsace's head.He blinked, jolted awake from ecstasy, and turned to look at the dwarf. "Huh? Why?" he asked. Muradin squinted at the dangling sword and the pedestal below. "There's something wrong with that." He pointed a stubby finger at the runeblade. "It's a bit too easy to come here. Look, this sword is just placed here, and there is a light from nowhere, like a flower waiting for someone to pick it." "Too easy?" Alsace gave him a look in disbelief. "It took you so long to find this sword, we still have to defeat these things to get it." "Bah," Muradin snorted, "Based on all I know about treasures, this is as evil as the pier in Booty Bay." He frowned and sighed, "Wait a minute... the base There's an inscription on it, let's see if I can read the words, it might tell us something." The two of them walked forward.Muradin knelt and gazed at the inscription, while Arthas leaned closer to the alluring sword. Arthas glanced briefly at the inscription that caught Muradin's attention.He did not know what language it was written in, but from the way Muradin's eyes moved between the lines, the dwarf seemed to understand the words. Arthas raised his hand to stroke the ice that stood between them—smooth as mirror and terribly cold.Ice, yes, but there was something strange about it, more than just frozen water.Arthas didn't know why, but he just had the feeling.There is a power that is so powerful that it is almost terrifying. Frostmourne... "Yes, I think I understand. It's written in Kalimag - the language of the elements." Muradin frowned as he read. "This is a... warning." "Warning? Warning of what?" Maybe breaking the ice would damage the blade, Arthas thought.The mysterious ice edge looks like it was... carved out of another, larger piece of ice.Muradin translated slowly, and Arthas listened indifferently, not taking his eyes off the sword. "The one who holds this sword will have eternal divine power. The sharp edge will devour blood and hurt the soul." The dwarf jumped up, and Alsace had never seen him so frightened. "Ah, I should have known. This sword is cursed! Let's get out of here!" Muradin's scream made Arthas feel a strange pain.leave?Let this sword just stay here, hanging in its ice coffin?Such a powerful force is in front of you, but you can't touch it, you can't use it. "Divine power is eternal," so said the inscription, though at the same time there was the danger of tearing the soul apart. "My heart is broken," Arthas said.Actually it is.He was heartbroken because of the needless death of his beloved steed, because of the horror of seeing the dead resurrected, because of the ruthless betrayal of his lover—yes, at this moment his soul was nakedly facing the trial of Frostmourne, and he could finally say with certainty that he In love with Jaina Proudmoore.He was heartbroken for being forced to kill hundreds of lives, for being forced to lie to his own staff, and to silence forever those who questioned and disobeyed.His heart has long been mutilated, for the sake of the power that can set things right, adding a few more scars is nothing. "Arthas, child." Muradin begged hoarsely, "You don't need to put a curse on yourself." "Curse?" Arthas smiled wryly. "In order to save my motherland, I am willing to bear any curse." Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Muradin shaking. "Alsace, you tell me I'm an honest man, and I don't like to think about things, but I tell you, boy, this is a big trouble. Come on, let this sword stay here and resign yourself to fate. Mel Ganis here, well, good. Just leave him freezing in the middle of nowhere. Forget about it, and go home with your men." A scene suddenly appeared in Arthas's mind. He saw his soldiers surrounded by hundreds of people who had died of the plague.They fell and rose again, rotting corpses.What about them?What about their souls, pain and sacrifice?Another image emerged, that of the great block of ice containing Frostmourne, which Arthas now saw as part of something larger and stronger.And it, and the runeblade within it, came to him to avenge the dead.A voice whispered in his head: the dead need vengeance. How can the mere living compare with the suffering of the dead who fell in terror? "Fuck them!" The words seemed to erupt from the depths of his heart. "I am responsible for the dead. No one can stand in the way of my vengeance, old friend." He looked away from the sword, met Muradin's worried eyes, and softened a little. "Not even you." "Arthas, I taught you how to fight. I want you to be a good king and a good warrior at the same time. But the key to being a good warrior is knowing how to choose the right battle... And the right weapon." He pointed a stubby finger at Frostmourne. "And this is a weapon you should be carrying." Arthas put his hands up on the ice that wrapped the sword, and pressed his face against it, barely an inch from the smooth surface.Muradin was still talking, but his voice seemed to be coming from somewhere far away. "Listen to me, son. We'll find another way to save your people. Let's go and figure it out when we get back." Muradin was wrong, he simply could not understand.Alsace had to do it.If he turned away now, he would fail again, and he couldn't let that happen.He has lost before. But not this time. He believes in the existence of the Holy Light because he has seen it with his own hands; he believes in the existence of ghosts and zombies because he has fought them.And so far, he has sneered at invisible forces, such as spirits and monsters.But now, with his heart beating wildly in anticipation, his soul gnawing with eager longing, the words escaped his lips. "Now, I summon the spirit of this place," he said, his breath frosted in the cold, stagnant air.Within his reach, Frostmourne awaited him hanging upside down. "Whatever you are, good or evil, neither or both, I feel you, I know you are listening. I am ready, I understand from the bottom of my heart. And I say to you now— I am willing to pay any price, as long as you can help me save my people." The wait was long and hard, but nothing happened.The breath Alsace exhaled condensed into hoarfrost, dissipated and faded, and then condensed into frost again.Cold sweat oozed from his forehead.He's willing to give everything he's got - has he been turned down?He failed again? A low sigh sounded, and Arthas held his breath.The smooth surface of the ice block suddenly cracked, and the crack zigzagged in all directions until Arthas could barely see the sword in the center of the ice block.Then he staggered back a few steps, covering his ears amid the sudden loud noise that echoed throughout the cavern. The ice block that sealed the sword exploded, and the sharp sword-like fragments flew everywhere, smashing into the hard stone wall of the cave.Arthas knelt down, his arms instinctively covering his head, when he heard a cry that stopped abruptly. "Muradin!" The shattered ice knocked the dwarf back several paces.Now he lay lifeless on the cold stone floor with his eyes closed, a spear-shaped icicle pierced into his upper abdomen, and blood slowly flowed from around the wound.Arthas got to his feet, ripped off his gauntlet and rushed towards his old friend and coach.He placed his hand on the dwarf's wound, staring intently, begging the Light to bestow upon him the energy to heal.Guilt pained him. Well, that's the terrible price to pay.Not his own life, but the life of a friend, someone who cared for him, taught him, supported him.He bowed his head in prayer, tears stung his eyes. This is my stupidity.I pay the price.Please——At this time, he suddenly felt, like the familiar caress of a close friend, the holy light returned to his heart, which was warm and comfortable.Seeing the brilliance shining on his hand again, he couldn't help crying with joy.He has long fallen, but it is not too late.Holy Light has not abandoned him.He just needs to bathe in it and open up to it.Muradin would not die, Arthas could heal him, they would be together—he stared in wonder. It had broken through the ice and was stuck in front of him. The light blue runes wrapped the blade in a magnificent icy halo.Fascinated, he stood up, and the holy light faded from his hand.Frostmourne was waiting for him like a lover longing for caresses, waiting to be awakened by him in all her glory. whispered in the back of his mind.This is the right path.It was foolish to believe in the Light, it had failed him time and time again.It failed to show up to save Invincible, and failed to stop the relentless spread of the plague designed to wipe out his entire country and subjects.And only this power - the power of Frostmourne, can fight against the mighty Dreadlord. Muradin was the victim of this terrible war, but with luck, there will be no next.Arthas stood up, and staggered towards the gleaming weapon.His trembling hand was slightly opened, and it was still wet with his friend's blood.He bent his fingers to hold the hilt of the sword, feeling the perfect feel, as if tailor-made for him. Suddenly a burst of cold hit, spreading along his trembling arms and reaching the bottom of his heart.A moment of pain alerted him, and then he was suddenly better.Everything is getting better.Frostmourne belonged to him, and he belonged to Frostmourne.The sound of the sword whispered and whispered in his head, as if it had always been there. With a cry of joy he raised his sword aloft, gazing at it with wonder and great pride.He, Arthas Menethil, will succeed in no time.Now, Excalibur, Frostmourne, was as much a part of him as his thoughts, his heart, and his breath. And he listened intently to the secrets it revealed.