Even the former Guardian, who had lived two lives, was momentarily stunned by the deception. It wasn't that he was foolish, but rather, the more he knew, the more he revered the world.
There were too many powerful unknown existences. Human history was only a little over two thousand years, yet the known history of this world stretched for tens of thousands of years. Humans were but a drop in the ocean, not even a ripple.
Grom was ordered to provide support. If he hadn't been effortlessly cutting down undead and fighting a giant flesh golem, with elven priests behind him providing Holy Light healing,
The elven warriors who broke through would have almost suffered a panic attack. After all, these green-skinned monsters had followed the forest trolls all the way to Silvermoon City in the last war, and many of their compatriots had died tragically.
"Stop! What exactly do you green-skinned monsters want to do!"
Gaylord, the captain of the breakthrough squad, roared, his face filled with unconcealed disgust and hatred.
Grom was about to fly into a rage. If it weren't for Prince Arthas' orders, he would have already swarmed forward and chopped this arrogant, pink-skinned long-ear into meat paste.
Even so, he was so angry that rough breaths plumed from his nostrils.
"I am Grom of prince Arthas' personal guard from Lordaeron. Hmph, I am here to rendezvous with you by Prince Arthas' command."
"I warn you to be polite, or I will kill you!"
For a savage and irritable orc, being able to reason when provoked was already a very rare occurrence.
Gaylord still wanted to hurl insults. How could a proud Sin'dorei be reprimanded by an orc!
Just as he was about to erupt, an elven female mage stopped him.
"Don't cause more trouble. prince Kael'thas said that the Alliance has sent troops to support us. If, because of you, the Sin'dorei people are trapped by the undead, you wouldn't be able to appease Prince Arthas' wrath even if you died a hundred times!"
At this, Gaylord shivered and actually retreated, indicating that this elven female's status was very noble.
Despite being in the midst of fleeing, this elven female, dressed in a mage's robe, still maintained sufficient elegance, bowing slightly as she spoke.
"Greetings, Orc Captain, I am Solarian, Archmage of Silvermoon City. Please escort my squad to the Alliance camp."
She spoke politely, but somehow still exuded a stiff sense of superiority.
Grom snorted and turned to hack at the surrounding undead.
"Keep up with me, long-ears."
With the orc forces leading the way, these refugees spent a great deal of effort, suffering hundreds of casualties, before they barely reached Windrunner Spire.
If it weren't for their Strider mounts, they wouldn't have been able to make it this far.
At this time, Arthas had just learned the ultimate skill of the Human Archmage taught by Medivh, Mass Teleportation!
He truly was the former Guardian, a knowledgeable Archmage. Even though his power was now less than one-tenth of what it once was, the knowledge in his mind had not diminished.
He taught knowledge systematically, apparently having enjoyed being a mentor in the past.
Level 1 Mass Teleportation: Can teleport a number of friendly units equal to 1x intelligence to an anchor point. Cooldown: 10 hours. (Skill level is low, and with the chaotic magical storms in the Endless Sea, it is temporarily impossible to teleport across continental plates.)
Good skill!
It seems he'll have to use it more to level it up, or use skill points to upgrade it.
After level six, one skill point is gained at each level, which can be allocated to any skill.
Arthas was reluctant to use them, because skills could gain experience and level up automatically through trigger events.
Active skill points were incredibly precious and truly shouldn't be used casually; at the very least, they should be used on ultimate skills to be worthwhile.
It was like how one gold coin could make any dancer perform, and one could choose between a human or a tauren; naturally, a human was the better choice.
Of course, if one insisted on choosing a tauren, it didn't matter.
In Arthas' opinion, ultimate skills naturally advanced slowly, so using skill points to upgrade them was the correct path.
Each upgrade brought a qualitative change, which ordinary skills couldn't compare to.
Looking at the 10-hour cooldown for Mass Teleportation, combined with the 17.2% cooldown reduction from his intelligence, it now only needed 8.3 hours to cool down.
Every attribute point was important; even intelligence, which was relatively useless in battles, now had its place.
"Prince Arthas, those pink-skinned long-eared refugees are here."
Grom shouted from afar. This big brute had also learned to mock people.
What refugees?
They were refugees, weren't they!
Gaylord nearly died of anger upon hearing this, wishing he could hack that green-skinned orc to death for daring to insult the noble Sin'dorei so profoundly!
"Calm down!"
Just as he was about to lose control, a voice immediately calmed him down.
He stepped forward to face the person who descended from Windrunner Spire, clad in armor, with a blue cape gently fluttering behind him, his brows handsome and resolute, even more charming than their own prince!
After a momentary loss of composure, she composed herself, placed her right hand on her chest, and bowed to him.
"Solarian, Commander of the Silvermoon City Mage Corps, greets Prince Arthas. Thank you for your support; the Sin'dorei will not forget the Alliance's friendship."
"Good day, mylady."
Arthas felt that the other party looked somewhat familiar. Wasn't she a boss he used to encounter every week in the Tempest Keep raid in Outland?
Of course, he wasn't there for her, but to farm Kael'thas for the Phoenix mount.
After three months of no drops, he was so frustrated that he spent day and night gathering herbs and mining, eventually buying a nightwing Phoenix from the guild store to satisfy his collector's urge.
Solarian felt the atmosphere was a bit strange but couldn't pinpoint what was wrong. She just had a feeling that the prince before her seemed to harbor some resentment towards her?
She didn't think she had offended him, had she? Could it be that her etiquette was not up to par just now?
That's impossible!
Human noble etiquette was inherited from the Sin'dorei; she could even be considered the ancestor of human etiquette, so how could she make a mistake in manners?
Not everyone would have such vivid, dreamlike memories; at least, a character as important as Jaina didn't.
Solarian was, at most, a passerby, so she would certainly not have such memories.
It was only Sylvanas and Arthas whose lives were intertwined for half their existence. Love born of hatred was somewhat false; wanting to kill each other was true.
One was enraged because the other had trapped her in the forest for many days, ruining her plan to speedrun the Sunwell.
The other harbored deep hatred because the other had invaded her homeland, massacred her compatriots, turned her into an ugly undead hated by the living, and enslaved her.
"Prince Arthas, is something wrong?"
Arthas shook his head, casting aside those insignificant memories.
"Nothing. What are your plans?"
"There are too many undead now. My suggestion is to take the civilians and leave Quel'Thalas, then return once the undead are dealt with."
"Of course, you can also fight the undead and demons to the death on this land; that is your freedom."
"If you choose to fight to the death, the help I can provide will seem insignificant. My kingdom is also experiencing a plague and the undead, and I need to return soon to save my people."