The orcs completed the massacre of Lordaeron in an orderly manner and gathered in the palace of Lordaeron to hold a grand celebration.
Lightbringer Uther rode his war horse and walked alone in the empty streets of Lordaeron.
Looking at the mess on both sides of the street, the shops were looted, the people were slaughtered, and the bones were piled up like mountains. He was full of grief and anger and could not vent his anger. His people were slaughtered here, and he truly felt the pain.
Although he was the greatest paladin in the world, he felt powerless and his vision was dim.
"Great Holy Light, please guide me and illuminate the way forward."
Uther held the reins tightly, feeling dizzy and his soul no longer in his body, as if he was in a nightmare. He was repenting for his crimes.
"King Terenas, my old friend, I was really wrong. I should not have cared about the face of the paladin, I should not have cherished my false reputation, and I should not have let you bear the narrow vision of the world alone. I
I should advise you to kill all these damn beasts, Holy Light, why do you abandon me, why don't you remind me of my fate today."
The old horse knew the way and took Uther out of Lordaeron and headed towards his own territory, Thorium Territory.
Uther was filled with shame and felt shameless. He gave up everything. He forgot the glory of the Paladin, abandoned his basic conscience as a human being, and was willing to become an accomplice of the orcs, killing the people of Lordaeron, just for the sake of it.
Protect your own people.
But what did he get?
Most of the people in his territory were massacred by orcs, how should he face his fellow villagers?
Those poor old people who are looking forward to the return of their children; wives who are eagerly waiting for their husbands to come home; those still young children, standing alone at the door, their young parents will never come back.
"King Terenas, my old friend, the prophecy predicts that your son Salsas will bring a magic sword called Frostmourne and return to Lordaeron to seek revenge from me. If that day comes true,
, I, Uther, am willing to suffer death, to repent to Lordaeron with my death, and to atone for the sins of the people who died innocently."
On the roadside between Lordaeron and Thorium Territory, a group of bloody Paladins gathered together, arguing fiercely about something. This group had obviously experienced a great battle, and everyone was injured.
The leader of the team was a young trainee knight. When he saw Uther approaching on his war horse, the young paladin quickly dismounted and half-knelt on the ground: "Sir Uther... father...
.”
The trainee knight's name was Udyr, Uther's illegitimate son. He always kept him by his side and treated him like his own son. Uther opened his dim eyes and asked without hope: "Where are your eldest and second brothers?
?”
Udyr gritted his teeth and said sadly: "They died in the battle to protect the children. I managed to fight out. We have revealed our identities to the orcs, but they still did not stop. They did it on purpose."
Among the piles of bones, there were his two dear sons, and it was impossible to distinguish them. Uther's vision went dark, his body shook for a while, and he almost fell off his horse. It took him a long time to recover.
"Father, Fifth Sister is leading the team to Stratholme, and I plan to go with her. I am about to say goodbye to you..."
"Nonsense!" Uther yelled angrily: "Stratholme is a lonely dead city with no food inside and no reinforcements outside. It can't be defended for long, and we, the Knights of the Silver Hand, will also..."
Uther couldn't say any more. According to Guardian Medivh's plan, Stratholme must be wiped off the ground to bring a perfect end to Lordaeron, and the Knights of the Silver Hand cannot stay away.
"Father, remnant soldiers from all over Lordaeron are rushing to Stratholme. Lords of all sizes have abandoned their territories and brought their remaining people closer to Stratholme. This is our last territory in Lordaeron.
, it is also the last dignity. Everyone knows that Stratholme cannot be defended, but... I just want to be like the fifth sister and kill a few more orcs before I die."
Udyr's voice was calm, his face was resolute, and he was determined to die. He had already made a decision.
Uther looked up at the sky and looked at the brilliant stars.
Countless civilizations have risen and fallen, lived and died.
Dignity and glory, faith and pursuit.
What can't be given up, the last flash in life.
Uther had a sudden realization. He turned over and dismounted, and grabbed Aiko's hands with force:
"Udyr, father, please, don't go to Stratholme. In order that the bloodline of our family will not be cut off, you must remain anonymous and live humble and cowardly. Forget our shameful surname. Don't tell others that you are the Lightbringer Udyr."
Son of Ser, go, my son."
Udyr looked at his old father, with a tangled expression on his face and a constant struggle in his heart.
"My child, it is more difficult to live a humble life than to die bravely. My father is old and I have no choice. I can only walk all the way to the dark side. You have to die for your elder brother and second brother, and for your third brother who died in the battle in the early years.
, live strong."
Seeing his old father pleading in pain, Udyr's heart was bleeding. He couldn't bear to see his father's desperate expression.
"Yes, father, I listen to you."
The young paladin got on his horse and waved goodbye to his father. Uther said goodbye with tears. This was almost a farewell.
The direction the team was traveling was to the south, to Silverpine Forest, where the Kingdom of Gilneas was located.
Some people are alive, but they are already dead.
At this moment, Uther had no worries in his heart and felt like he was already a walking corpse.
.......
Karazhan.
Medivh lay on the bed, tossing and turning.
He felt an inexplicable fear approaching.
In his sleep, Prince Arthas had an expressionless face, holding a long sword with a blood-red aura, and stabbed Medivh fiercely in the chest.
"Frostmourne? Does a magic sword that can give people powerful power really exist?"
"Why should I believe the so-called prophecy of an arrogant person?"
Medivh found it particularly funny. He was an archmage and also a profound scholar.
Gaining strength is never easy. It requires the accumulation of knowledge from the past, finding the right path from mistakes again and again, experiencing countless desperate failures, and paying more than others.
It's simply unfair that just a magic sword can gain power beyond mortals.
Medivh comforted himself, this was absolutely impossible, and fell asleep again.
"You have to be in awe."
"The unknown power."
Strange sounds echoed in his ears, and Medivh woke up from his sleep again.
Due to the excessive use of magic, Karazhan and the surrounding space are extremely fragile and are connected to many unknown worlds. Strange sounds can often be heard and various weird illusions can be seen.
Even Medivh himself didn't know the details of most of them.
Medivh opened his eyes.
"Since you have doubts, why not confirm it? Just to comfort yourself."
"If there really is a magic sword like Frostmourne, its owner can only be me, the Guardian Medivh."
Medivh opened the portal, targeting the Dragonbone Plains of Northrend, the residence of the Red Dragon Queen and her consort, the seat of the Wyrmrest Alliance, and the Wyrmrest Temple.
"Alexstrasza, Queen of the Red Dragon, mount of the Guardian, wake up from your long sleep." (To be continued)