Chapter 17 Chapter Seventeen

Arthas rode on the back of his loyal skeletal steed Invincible, thinking as he rode toward Andorhal.This is really a great irony, it was he who killed the necromancer Kel'Thuzad himself, and now he is responsible for resurrecting him. Frostmourne continued to whisper to him, but he didn't need its voice, or that of the Lich King, to comfort him.There was no turning back, and he didn't want to turn back. Since the fall of the capital, Alsace began his dark pilgrimage.He rode across the kingdom on horseback, leading his new subjects from town to town, letting them slaughter civilians at will.Scourge, he thought Kel'Thuzad's name was too appropriate.Some non-mainstream orders use this term to refer to the props of self-flagellation in their penance to purify themselves of impurity.And his Scourge will cleanse the world of the living.Arthas straddled life and death; he was still alive, but the soft voice of the Lich King called him the Death Knight.His hair, skin, and eyes were faded, suggesting that the title was not in vain.He doesn't understand and doesn't care.He is the favorite general of the Lich King, commanding the entire Scourge.And strangely, he found himself twisted in love with them.

Arthas now serves him through one of the Lich King's minions.It was a dreadlord, almost exactly like Mel'Ganis.And that, too, was ironic; he was just as indifferent to it. "Like Mel'Ganis, I'm a dreadlord, but I'm not your enemy," Tichondrius assured him, a sardonic smile on his lips. "Actually, I came to congratulate you. You killed your own father and surrendered this land to the Scourge. Now that you have passed the initial test, the Lich King is pleased with your... zeal." Two very different emotions hit him at the same time—painful and elated.

"Yes," he said, calmly facing the demon. "I have destroyed everyone and everything I once loved in his name. And I have no remorse, no mercy, no shame." Yet in the deepest part of his heart, there was a voice, not Frostmourne, but another voice whispering: fraud. He suppressed his emotions.Either way, that voice has to shut up.He can't allow weakness to sprout in his heart, it's like abscess, if left unchecked, it will spread to the whole body. Tichondrius, who seemed oblivious to Arthas's change of mood, pointed at Frostmourne. "This runeblade in your hand was forged by my people many years ago. The Lich King gave it the ability to steal souls, and you are its first prize."

Arthas gazed at the sword with mixed feelings.He noticed Tichondrius's choice of words.steal. If the Lich King asked him to use his soul as a price for saving his people, Arthas would not hesitate.But the Lich King didn't ask, just took his soul.And now, his soul is here, imprisoned in this shining weapon, so close to the Prince of Arthas, no, the King of Arthas, but out of reach.So has Arthas got his wish?Have his people been saved? does it matter Tichondrius watched him carefully. "I can do things without a soul," Arthas replied softly. "What does the Lich King want me to do?"

It turned out that he was asked to summon the remnants of the Sect of the Damned to help with a major event: to retrieve the remains of Kel'Thuzad. He had heard that Kel'Thuzad's remains were in Andorhal, the source of the diseased food shipments. Arthas slew the necromancer, leaving his rotten, stinking flesh behind.He recalled his rage at the time, but now his heart is still.Arthas curled the corners of his pale mouth into a smile.This is really ironic. All that remains of the burning building are now blackened stakes.At this moment, no one can see here except the undead... But... Alsace frowned and pulled the rein.Invincible stopped immediately, as loyal and obedient as before.

Arthas saw figures loitering in the distance, shimmering in the dim sky—"Armor," he said.Soldiers in armor stood guard around the cemetery, and a man leaned against a small grave.He looked at it from a distance, and his eyes widened suddenly.There are not only living people, not only soldiers, but even paladins.He knows why they're here.It looks like there are a lot of people interested in Kel'Thuzad. But he had already disbanded the Knights, and there shouldn't be any more paladins, let alone gathering here.Frostmourne whispered hungrily.Arthas drew the mighty runeblade and charged forward holding it aloft so that the small band of acolytes following him could see and be inspired.Invincible leaped forward, and when Arthas slashed and killed the cemetery guards, he saw the shock on their faces.They fought valiantly, but it ultimately meant nothing, and they knew it.You can see it in their eyes.

He drew Frostmourne back, and the sword gleefully absorbed the new soul.Just then, a voice shouted, "Alsace!" Arthas had heard this voice before, but couldn't remember who it was.He turned to the caller. The man was tall, burly and imposing, he didn't wear a helmet, and his beard reminded Alsace. "Gavin Reid," he said in surprise, "long time no see." "It's not too long. Where is the warhammer we gave you?" Gavin Reid cursed at him, "It's a paladin's weapon, a glorious weapon." Arthas remembered.It was this man who held the hammer at his feet.It looked so new and pure and austere then. "I have a better weapon now." Saying this, Arthas held up Frostmourne.The runeblade gleamed hungrily in his hand. "Stand aside, brother." On the spur of the moment, there was a strange kind of kindness in his voice. "I'm just here to find some old bones. For the friendship of giving the hammer that day, for the brotherhood of the same group, as long as you let me go, I will not harm you."

Gavin Reid frowned and spat in the direction of Alsace. "I can't believe we ever considered you a brother and sister! I don't understand why Uther would vouch for you. Your betrayal broke Uther's heart, boy. He wouldn't hesitate to give life, and this is how you repay his loyalty? I knew it was a mistake to accept a dandy prince into the knight order!You are a disgrace to the Silver Hand! " Arthas flew into a rage, almost suffocating with anger.He is so brave!Arthas is the death knight, the Lich King's general, life and death are under his control.And Gavin Reid dared to refuse his pardon.Alsace gritted his teeth.

"No, my brother," he whispered. "When I kill you, and then raise your body as a servant, and let you do as I command. Gavin Rider, that's the Silver Hand. shame." Arthas sneered and made a mocking gesture, and the undead creatures and Cultists of the Damned waited silently beside him.Gavin Reid did not rush forward, but curled up and prayed to the Holy Light.But the Light could not save him, and Arthas let him finish his prayers, let his weapon shine, just as Arthas' own warhammer had once done.With Frostmourne in his hand, the power of the Lich King filled Arthas' half-dead body, and he knew that Gavin Reid would be defeated.

Paladins fought with all their might, but it wasn't enough. Arthas had teased him at first, in retaliation for Gavin Reid's nasty remarks.But he soon grew weary of the game, and a single mighty blow from the sword ended his former brother-in-law.He felt Frostmourne tremble slightly, absorbing and annihilating Gavin Reid's soul, and his lifeless body fell to the ground.For all his harsh words, Arthas let his vanquished foe rest in death. With a brief gesture he directed his servants to begin searching for the body.He left Kel'Thuzad's body to rot that day, but apparently loyal followers carefully buried the necromancer's remains in a small tomb.The acolytes of the Damned Sect rushed forward, found the tomb, pushed open the top cover, and quickly lifted out the coffin inside.Arthas touched the coffin with his foot and smiled.

"Come forth, necromancer," Arthas said mockingly as the coffin was loaded into the back of a meat grinder truck. "The power you once served needs you again." "I told you that my death has nothing to do with the big picture." Alsace was taken aback.He was used to hearing such voices, the Lich King whispering to him through Frostmourne almost constantly these days.But now it was different, he remembered hearing the voice, but with arrogance and mockery instead of trust and secrecy now. Kel'Thuzad. "This... I can hear ghosts now?" Not just heard, but seen, at least for one particular ghost.The shadow of Kel'Thuzad slowly took shape before his eyes, hanging translucently in the air, with black holes in its eyes.But there was no doubt it was him, a sly smile played on the ghost's lips. "I read you right, Prince Arthas." "You have delayed too long." Tichondrius's low and unhappy roar came from nowhere.And the phantom disappeared—if it ever appeared at all.Alsace was shocked.Is this his fantasy?Was his sanity beginning to be lost as well as his soul? Noticing nothing, Tichondrius lifted the lid of the coffin and cast a disgusted glance at the nearly liquefied body of Kel'Thuzad inside.Despite the stench, Arthas found the smell less unbearable than he had thought.It seemed like a lifetime ago when he knocked down a necromancer with a hammer and watched his dead body rotting rapidly. "These wrecks are too rotten for them to make it to Quel'Thalas." Alsace came back to his senses. "Quel'Thalas?" The golden land of the elves... "Yes, only the energy of the High Elf Sunwell can revive Kel'Thuzad." The Dreadlord frowned, "The longer time passes, the more he will rot. More powerful. You have to steal a very special urn, the paladins guarding it happen to be here. Put the necromancer's remains in there and he'll be safe and sound on his journey. " The dreadlord smiled slyly, this matter is not as simple as it seems at first.Alsace wanted to ask a few more questions, but closed his mouth again.Tichondrius would not tell him.He shrugged his shoulders and rode invincible towards his destination. Behind him, came the dark laugh of the demon. Tichondrius was right.A small funeral procession came slowly down the road.Arthas recognized their attire. This was a military funeral, or the deceased was a great dignitary.Several soldiers walked in a single file, and the one in the middle was holding something in his strong hands. The dim sunlight reflected on his armor and the items in his hand, which was exactly the urn Tichondrius had mentioned.Suddenly, Arthas understood why Tichondrius was laughing. The paladin's demeanor and gait were distinctive, and his armor was uniquely styled.Arthas held Frostmourne tightly with trembling hands.He suppressed the confusion and anxiety in his heart and ordered his men to move forward. The funeral procession was full of good fighters, but they were few in number and could easily be completely surrounded.They drew their weapons, but instead of attacking immediately, they turned their heads and waited for the order from the man holding the urn.There is no doubt that he is Uther.He looked at his former disciple calmly, his wrinkled face was expressionless, but righteous anger was burning in his eyes. "Dogs can't stop eating shit." Uther said, his tone was as fierce as a whip. "I prayed that I wouldn't run into you." Alsace trembled slightly, and replied in a hoarse voice: "I am so annoying. I have already disbanded your knight order, why do you still call yourself a paladin?" Uther let out a bitter laugh. "Don't think you can count on disbanding. I am responsible for Shengguang. And you were the same." holy light.He still remembers it.His heart sank suddenly in his chest, and for a moment, just for a short moment, he lowered the sword in his hand.However, whispers sounded again, reminding him of the power he had now, and reminding him that the path of the Holy Light did not give him what he hoped for.Arthas gripped Frostmourne once more. "I've done a lot of things," he replied, "not anymore." "Your father ruled the land for fifty years, and you reduced it to ashes in a few days. But it's easier to destroy than to build, isn't it?" "That's funny, Uther. But I don't have time for happy reminiscences with you. I'm here to get that urn, give it to me, and you'll have a good death." This man couldn't let it go.Even if he begged for mercy, he couldn't let it go.If he begged for mercy, he couldn't let it go.There are too many pasts between them, too many... feelings. Now Uther showed an angry expression.He stared at Arthas in horror. "This urn contains the ashes of your father, Arthas! Ah, do you want to come and desecrate him one last time before you destroy his kingdom completely?" Arthas was taken aback. Father..."I don't know what's in it." He whispered to Uther, and also to himself.Then this is another reason why the Dreadlord gave Arthas a smirk when he gave orders.At least he knew what was in the urn.Test one after another.Can Arthas fight his mentor...can he desecrate his own father's ashes.Arthas became annoyed. As he spoke, he jumped off his horse and pulled out Frostmourne. "But that's all right. No matter what method I use, I won't leave empty-handed." Frostmourne screamed in his hands, and the sound reached his head, longing for this battle.Alsace put on an attacking stance.Uther watched him for a moment, then slowly raised his gleaming weapon. "I don't want to believe that," he said hoarsely.Arthas was horrified to see Uther's eyes weeping. "Your childhood selfishness, I take it to be a child's inadvertent fault; your later self-willedness, I take it to be a young man's need to escape his father's shadow. Even Stratholme—oh, may the Light forgive me— —I pray that you will realize the mistake you made. I cannot fight against the king's son." The two began to circle around, and Arthas forced a laugh. "But you still do it now." "This is my final promise to your father. A promise to my friends. I want to see his body treated decently with my own eyes, even if he was brutally murdered by his own son, defenseless and unarmed." "You will die on this promise." "Maybe." The words didn't seem to annoy Uther. "I'd rather die for keeping my promise than live at your mercy. I'm so glad he's dead, I'm so glad he can't see what you've become." Those words stung him... Alsace didn't expect it to be like this.He paused, feeling mixed feelings, and Uther took advantage of his brief hesitation to rush forward. "For the Light!" he yelled, raising his hammer back and heading back towards Arthas with all his strength.The shiny weapon moved so fast that Arthas could almost hear it swing. Arthas jumped aside, narrowly avoiding a blow from the weapon, feeling the wind it whipped up in his face.Uther came across as calm and focused...and deadly.He sees it as his duty: to kill his patricide son and stop the evil from spreading. Arthas also knew that it was his responsibility to kill the man who had taught him.He had to get rid of his past... all of his past.To do otherwise is to perpetuate sweet and unrealistic fantasies of mercy and forgiveness.He shouted, and Frostmourne fell on his head. Uther's hammer braced the sword.The two men mustered all their strength, their faces facing each other were only a short distance away, and the muscles on their arms were trembling with tension.Finally, Uther groaned and pushed Alsace away.The young death knight staggered, and Uther followed closely.His expression was stern but his eyes were fierce and determined, as if he had already won the battle.This absolute self-confidence frightened Alsace, his attack was equally powerful, but it was out of order.He'd never been able to win against Uther before—"It's over, boy!" Uther yelled, his voice echoing.Arthas suddenly panicked, seeing Uther bathed in bright holy light.Not only the hammer in his hand, but his whole body was shining with brilliance, as if he himself was a weapon of the Holy Light, trying to knock Alsace down. "For the justice of the Holy Light!" The war hammer fell, hitting Alsace's abdomen accurately, making him feel as if the air in his lungs had been sucked out.The holy knight exuded holy light all over his body, and his armor was twisted and deformed under the blow of his shining warhammer. Thanks to this armor, Arthas' life was saved.Arthas lay on the ground, and Frostmourne flew aside.He struggled painfully, trying to breathe hard and trying to stand up.Light, he has abandoned it, betrayed it.Now Retribution has come at last, in its purest brilliance and will, through the hands of its greatest champion, Arthas's erstwhile mentor, Uther the Lightbringer. The light that shrouded Uther grew stronger, and the holy light burned Arthas' eyes and soul, making him writhe in pain.He was wrong to turn his back on it, what a terrible mistake it had been, and now its benevolence had turned into unquenchable rage.He looked ahead, into Uther's glowing white eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he waited for the final blow to strike. Did he grab the sword unconsciously, or did it jump into his hand of its own volition?In that moment of confusion in his mind, Arthas couldn't tell.All he knew was that Frostmourne was suddenly grasped in both hands, and its voice sounded in his heart. Where there is light, there is shadow, and where there is day, there is night.Even the brightest candle has a time to go out. So is the brightest life. He took a deep breath, sucking air greedily into his lungs.In that instant, Arthas saw the light surrounding Uther dim.Then, Uther raised the hammer again, ready to deal him the mortal blow. But Alsace was no longer there. If Uther is a wild bear, huge and powerful; Arthas is a tiger, strong and agile.Uther and his weapon may have the power of the Blessing of the Light, but the hammer is not a fast weapon, and Uther's fighting style is not particularly fast.Although Frostmourne is a huge two-handed rune sword, it is as flexible as if it can fight by itself. Arthas charged forward again, and this time he did not hesitate, but began to fight in earnest.He unceremoniously attacked Uther, the Messenger of the Holy Light, not leaving the opponent the slightest chance to raise his weapon to charge for a heavy blow.Uther's eyes widened in shock, then narrowed resolutely. However, the holy light that once shone brightly on his strong body gradually weakened. Fainted by the power bestowed upon him by the Lich King. Frostmourne slashed with the sword—this time it hit the hammer's shiny head; that time it slashed its handle; The part was deeply cut in - Uther groaned in pain and staggered back.Blood spurted from the wound.Frostmourne's desire grew stronger, and Arthas wanted to give it more satisfaction. Arthas let out a roar like a wild beast, his white hair flew up, and then charged forward.Frostmourne nearly cut off Uther's arm, and the great hammer fell from his limp fingers, shining.One violent blow dented Uther's breastplate, and then a second blow in the same place sliced ​​through the armor, tearing the flesh beneath.Uther the Lightbringer fell heavily to his knees, his emblem shattered and fell on the snow. The blue and gold emblem on it symbolized the alliance he had fought for.He raised his head, his breathing became difficult, and the blood gushing from his mouth stained his beard.Yet there was no sign of surrender on his face. "I really wish there was a special place for you in hell, Arthas." He coughed, with blood spraying from his mouth. "Maybe we'll never know, Uther." Arthas said coldly, holding up Frostmourne for the final blow.Runeblade moaned almost wistfully. "I want to live forever." He thrust the runeblade straight down, piercing Uther's throat, cutting off his words of defiance, and piercing the great heart.Uther died almost immediately.Arthas drew his long sword and took a few steps back trembling.Of course, this time just for the sake of stress relief and ecstasy. He knelt down and picked up the urn, held it in his hands for a long time, then broke the seal and turned the urn over, pouring out the contents.King Tenaris' ashes rained down, gray as plagued flour, on the snow.Suddenly, the wind turned.The last remaining gray powder of a generation of kings was suddenly blown up, and it was thrown towards the death knight as if alive.Alsace took a step back in shock, he instinctively raised his hands to cover his face, the urn fell from his hands, and fell to the ground with a muffled sound.He closed his eyes and turned around, but he was already coughing violently, and the pungent ashes made him feel suffocated.Frightened suddenly, he slapped his armored hands on his face, trying to wipe away the fine powder that clogged his nose and stinging his eyes.He spat, his stomach churning. Arthas took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.After a while, he stood up and regained his composure again.Even if he still has feelings, he has buried it in the deepest part of his heart, a place that even he cannot touch.He returned to the meat wagon that held Kel'Thuzad's rotting corpses and sternly thrust the jar into the hands of a Scourge soldier. "Put in the necromancer," he ordered. He stepped invincible. Quel'Thalas is not far away.