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18. Frostmourne

The world is undergoing major changes, and many stories are no longer the same. It is like a re-disrupted spiral, involving everything in the world, disrupting, reorganizing, and evolving. In the end, those familiar stories will be transformed into

Completely different ending.

But the story will change, and the participants in the story, those people, and the most important components of the story will not change so easily.

For example, in both versions of the story, Arthas Menethil was driven by the will to protect and embarked on a long journey. For example, in both versions of the story, Jaina Proudmoore

It is a very important part, or maybe even the two versions of the story take place in the same place, but in Northrend when the world changed, at midnight when snow fell all over the earth, in the purest snow

A tragedy or comedy will be staged in the earth?

No one knows... but observers, keep watching...

———————————————

"What happened?"

General Tanred, who was urgently summoned to the White Tower Port, raised his head and looked at the solemn-faced Archbishop of Chaldea. Next to him was Countess Presto, who had an indifferent look on her face and rushed over with her seriously injured body.

The high knight Uther, the war observers who were about to go to the front line in the middle of Thousand Needles, several young people from the tribe, and finally the archmage Modera of Dalaran.

"His Majesty Galin and His Majesty Liam have already gone to the front line. It is said that centaur scouts appear frequently and the war is about to begin. I don't want to miss this."

Tanred, who suffered a blow from fate, still looks bohemian on the surface. The navy admiral's uniform is casually open, and he wears a golden anchor pendant around his neck. Matching his slightly rough image, he is somewhat energetic.

Thrall and Vol'jin, who were sitting aside, were whispering something, probably talking about the war with the centaurs. After all, the conflict between the orcs and centaurs has been going on for a long time. If the war in Thousand Needles shows a good result, then

This means that in the Barrens, the orc army and tauren that have been prepared can also follow the footsteps of humans and completely drive those annoying barbarians out of the gathering place of the two tribes.

"Everyone! Everyone!"

The archbishop's deep voice echoed in the conference hall, accompanied by his slightly anxious tapping on the table. The eyes of this big man who always appeared with a gentle appearance and a steady image shone with a gleam of fire. This situation made everyone present aware of the situation.

Something happened, and even Tanred sat upright at this moment.

"The war on the front line is very important, we all know it, but now, I have called everyone here to say another thing."

The archbishop's eyes swept over the people in front of him, and he said in a deep voice:

"Ms. Jaina has just sent an urgent magical letter. I think you are all qualified to see it."

Archmage Modera waved her hand, and a light blue magic light curtain jumped out in front of everyone's eyes. It looked like a map. In the center of the map, red light spots were shining, and on the edge of the continent, there were also

Faint blue light spots.

"This is the map of Northrend! What do the red dots and blue dots mean?"

Tanred asked loudly, which also represented the doubts of everyone present.

"The red one is His Majesty Alsace, the blue one..."

The Chaldean bishop glanced at Tanred and said in a deep voice:

"It's Ms. Jaina. We just got the news that His Majesty Arthas did not go to Ashenvale for a vacation, but went to Northrend. It is said that he is looking for an "artifact" that can change the fate of mankind. But unfortunately, according to

According to Ms. Jaina, it was not an artifact, but an evil magic weapon contaminated with the power of the undead, and His Majesty Arthas' will was tempted and distorted."

The archbishop clenched his fists, and it was obvious that his chest was filled with the flames of anger and disappointment.

"He was under too much pressure, and now, this pressure has sent him to a road of no return."

"Why is my sister there too?"

Tanred had put away all his debauchery. He stood up, put his hands on the table, and shouted loudly:

"Alsace took her there? I knew that bastard was unreliable!"

As he spoke, Tanred was about to rush out of the conference hall, but Archmage Modera quickly blocked the door with a blue light curtain. The white-haired Archmage said sternly:

"Calm down, Tanred! It was not Arthas who tricked Jaina into going to Northrend, but Jaina voluntarily rushed there. This child is too reckless, but she has not forgotten that she also has friends. This is also

The reason why the Archbishop of Chaldea and I summoned you here."

The Archbishop then spoke:

"Jaina is currently staying in the Borean Tundra. She has found the prophet Velen, but the help the draenei can give is very limited. They themselves are also harassed by the invading demons, so I want to speak in a private name.

Please go to Northrend to help Lady Jaina and His Majesty Arthas... The Empire of Man can no longer bear the terrible price of losing a king."

"More importantly, this matter cannot be disclosed!"

Chaldea's voice was full of fatigue as he explained:

"Arthas's actions not only represent him personally, he is the successor to the destiny of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Once this matter is used by someone with intentions, Arthas's throne will be challenged. At this moment, I think everyone here

Everyone understands the risk."

"I admit that His Majesty Arthas' childish behavior is indeed disappointing, but I also think that this is not the reason why we give up on him. I hope that we will send the most trustworthy and powerful supporter, Lord Modera.

The mage will send this rapid response team directly to Borean Tundra, which is the farthest portal we can open in Northrend."

"But what about the war on the front lines?"

The Countess, who had been silent for a long time, raised her head and looked at the Archbishop with her calm eyes. She said:

"The frontline is waiting for support from the rear. If we go to Northrend, we won't be able to find a single person in Thousand Needles who can take charge alone."

"The Archbishop of Chaldea will stay here."

Archmage Modera whispered:

"He will work with Duke Aberlock to bring reinforcements to the front line of the war. Only a figure like him who has an outstanding reputation among believers in various countries can bond soldiers from all countries together."

"No, it's not just me."

The Archbishop of Chaldea shook his head. He carefully added a layer of barrier to the conference hall, then lowered his voice and said:

"This is the most confidential news. Everyone, His Majesty Fa'ao will appear in this war. He believes that the war against the barbarians is very important for the recovery of human civilization. Although we tried hard to persuade him, His Majesty still decided to go to the front line.

Inspire the fighting spirit of the soldiers, and during my trip, I will also serve as your Majesty’s follower and protector.”

"If it's His Majesty Fa'ao...then there's really no need to worry."

Countess Presto has lived in human society for many years. She is very clear about the status of the Pope of the Holy Light Church in the hearts of the people. With his personal presence on the front line, the defeat of the barbarian centaurs is inevitable.

.

"I will take several tribesmen to join this rescue."

The countess nodded. She had no interest in mortal wars, especially for bastards like centaurs. Moreover, she could also take this opportunity to return to the Dragon Sleeping Temple. Although the Black Dragon Legion was on the verge of extinction, the Black Dragon Legion's

The holy land is still guarded by the dragons. She needs to go to the Obsidian Holy Land and the Black Dragon Holy Land to see if she can find some things left by her ancestors.

"I will select the most trustworthy paladins to join them."

The pale Knight Uther whispered:

"No one will give up on Arthas, my disciple. Although he has gone astray, I believe that it is all because he wants to protect his people and civilization..."

"What about us?"

A rough voice sounded, and everyone turned around to see the young orc Thrall standing up. This smart man among the younger generation of orcs was frowning, and he asked:

"This should be an important and confidential matter for human society. Why should you tell us?"

"Because this is an opportunity, Warlord Thrall."

The Archbishop of Chaldea looked at the orc and said:

"Before Emperor Lothar died in the battle, I had a brief exchange with him. The emperor did not want to see humans and orcs continue to be hostile. If he was still here, he might have used his own way to eliminate the conflict between the two races.

Hatred, I know, hatred condensed in blood will not dissipate so easily, but... the great man has passed away, and we living people should obey his great will."

"We hope that the orcs will also participate in this operation and save a human king with their own hands. No matter how high-sounding the leaders of the two tribes say, it will be more effective."

The archbishop breathed a sigh of relief and said softly:

"What's more, you are friends, aren't you?"

"friend?"

Thrall pursed his lips. After a moment, he looked back at Bain and Vol'jin. Neither of them had any intention of strongly objecting, so Thrall turned back and nodded slightly:

"Okay, but this is our private behavior. We cannot represent the tribe yet. I hope this is the beginning of a good relationship between the two tribes..."

"Then let's go, don't waste time."

Archmage Modera took out her pocket watch, looked at it, and said:

"Three hours have passed since Jaina asked for help. His Majesty Arthas may come into contact with the magic weapon at any time. We must hurry up!"

Everyone quickly left the conference hall and began to prepare individually. At the back of the crowd, the Archbishop of Chaldea was holding a sacred scripture in his hand. His fingers inadvertently touched the handle of the decorative purple ceremonial knife at his waist.

.

"The factors that would interfere with the war... have been eliminated, and 500 shadow priests are ready..."

He said so.

"Very good, very good... Then let the true power of the shadow be revealed in front of your people... It's time for the shadow under the light to truly stand under the light."

Miss Xalatas's voice rang in the Chaldean Archbishop's heart, and the latter showed a gentle smile. As his fingers jumped, deep shadows moved rapidly in his fingers.

Like dark magic.

———————————————————————

Just as the rescue team from behind was busy preparing to rescue the "crazy" His Majesty Arthas, the king of Lordaeron was already approaching his "place of destiny".

Dragonblight, at the end of this boundless blizzard, in the glaciers that have lasted ten thousand years, those shadows, the shadows of history, linger on this snowfield. This is the center of the Northrend continent, and it is also the place where the earth and the floating world are.

Where the ice meets, the hidden dark power is entangled in this snow, and the sun and moon are no longer visible.

Long before the lich descended on this continent, the power of darkness was entangled under this glacier. Those disorderly and gloomy forces were waiting for an opportunity to break through. Now... they have waited.

"That voice, right here...it's calling me."

After arduously crossing the glacier road, and then arduously crossing the territory of those ancient snow-burrowing insects, which can easily grow to more than 30 meters long, have the ability to freeze, and have giant jaws as strong as steel, covered with gray

Every time a monster in black horny armor appears in human society, it will cause terrible panic, but in this ancient glacier, they are everywhere.

Alsace's strong armor was full of traces of acid corrosion, and the warhammer in his hand was stained with disgusting and suspicious green slime. Behind him, Farric's image was also very bad. Fortunately, behind him,

Maven, who was injured before, has regained the ability to walk, and the black horse that miraculously followed them all the way here is invincible.

In front of the panting three people, there is a cave formed by the self-collapse of a glacier over a long period of time. This place is different from other places. Although it is cold in the snow, there is still light shining. But standing at the entrance of this cave

, all the light seemed to be absorbed by something in the cave. The cold wind cave in front of Alsace was, without exaggeration, like the sharp-toothed mouth of a giant beast, waiting for the rash.

The prey enters on its own initiative.

"Your Majesty, this..."

The two captains of guards subconsciously clenched their weapons, and Alsace also held the war hammer with both hands. He glanced at the two people behind him, with a hint of stubbornness in his eyes.

"We're already here, I can't go back any further."

"This is my fate, the fate of the victim Arthas..."

After saying that, the young king strode into it. The light in the cave was beating like a door to a dark hell.

But there were no other enemies in the cave, or in other words, those ghosts hidden in the cold wind were not awakened by Alsace under the influence of another force.

The three people walked all the way to the deepest part of the cave. On top of the sharp ice cubes like a throne raised by thousands of years of ice, a dark magic sword was floating there silently. The dark and gloomy power came from the cold air.

The energy slowly poured into this sword, and the more obscure power was emitted from the jagged blade of the icy blue magic sword with a skull hanging from it, just like breathing.

"That's it... Frostmourne, the sword that appeared in my dream. It will bring the power to change everything, protection, and the power to fight back."

Arthas was like a man who was fascinated, walking step by step towards the suspended long sword. The power of Menethil in his hand, the finely forged war hammer, unconsciously drew from the king's fingers.

The light in his eyes became dim, and his long golden hair moved without any wind. Finally, he stood in front of the sword.

"Only by transforming into a more terrifying demon can we defeat the evil demon. I...have come to fulfill my destiny."

As he spoke, Alsace raised his hand and grabbed the long sword filled with cold light. At this moment, a deep voice suddenly sounded deeper in the cave.

"Back off! Arthas Menethil... What is before you is a heavy fate that does not belong to you..."

Tyrion, wearing a ferocious black armor, the Blade of Dawn slowly walked out of the escaping halo of darkness. He held the hilt of the Ashbringer in his left hand, and the heavy sword of darkness was held in his hand without carrying it.

On the face of the helmet, there was a hint of seriousness and a touch of sarcasm in the ice-blue eyes.

"Listen to me and go back, immature king..."

"You have gone too far on this road to despair."


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