After the fall of Dalaran, Kel'Thuzad obtained the artifact left by the Guardian Medivh. Based on the residual Twisting Nether energy and knowledge recorded on it, he immediately summoned Archimonde.
Despite the resistance from The Scourge, even when the surviving forces of Dalaran had converged with the vanguard of the Southern Lordaeron Alliance, they still couldn't break through the blockade.
They could only watch helplessly as the summoning ritual concluded, and that terrifying demon appeared!
It was Archimonde, commander of the Burning Legion!
Although he couldn't enter Azeroth with his full power, his demigod strength combined with the overbearing might of Fel magic still caused the Alliance forces to be instantly pulverized into a bloody mess!
More demons were summoned to Azeroth, wandering and attacking in all directions, plunging the entire continent of Lordaeron into turmoil.
Dalaran was destroyed, but Lordaeron was not.
The moment he arrived, Archimonde sensed the news of his trusted general's death, with even his soul annihilated.
This made him furious and filled with doubt. Even if a demon died in battle here, its soul could still return to the Twisting Nether, awaiting resurrection by Fel magic.
But why, having died here, was its soul also extinguished?
Unless it was a temporary boost by drawing the Twisting Nether environment through the Dark Portal, which would greatly increase its power, but once the Twisting Nether's influence ended, it would also be swept back into the Twisting Nether.
At this moment, Mother Shahraz teleported to the ruins of Dalaran and reported the news of Mannoroth's death.
Upon learning that it was the so-called Human prince who killed him, Archimonde immediately reprimanded Mannoroth. If he were still alive, he would have been torn to shreds by Archimonde.
This was an utter disgrace!
For revenge, Archimonde expended a vast amount of Fel mana, utilizing ancient Eredar arcane magic, and leveraging Azeroth's unique ley lines to utterly devastate Lordaeron.
The earth-shattering blow destroyed Lordaeron and also caused Archimonde to fall into a temporary weakness, which prevented him from personally pursuing them.
He merely ordered a portion of the undead and demons to rush into the ruins of Lordaeron and destroy everything they saw, while also having demons and undead cover his retreat to the continent of Kalimdor.
Arthas saw the demon legions entrenched in the ruins of Lordaeron through Eagle Eye. These demons were commanded by the three dreadlords.
One of them was the old acquaintance, Banehollow!
He closed his eyes, regaining his composure, then opened them again, and a faint pressure made everyone gasp for breath.
"From today onwards, the territory shall officially be called Hope's Dawn."
"As long as I am here, Lordaeron will always have hope."
"Uther, you are my teacher. I hope you will pull yourself together. Self-blame and regret will transform into the motivation for revenge."
"I will gather all forces and first kill the demons in the ruins of the Royal City to avenge my father. Their heads alone can honor the fallen citizens of Lordaeron."
Uther knelt on one knee, his right hand on his chest, his bewildered eyes regaining their normal focus.
"Yes, Prince Arthas, as you wish, I will tear apart the invading undead demons."
This time, he didn't say anything about not being consumed by anger. If he did, prince Arthas wouldn't say anything, but Mograine would kill him if he found out.
"Go and rest, Derek, you too. Have the priest reattach your arm. If not, then later, have the dwarves and gnomes craft you a mechanical arm."
Arthas walked out, feeling oppressed and angry.
He had tried his best, but in the face of such absolute power, all his efforts seemed like those of a clown.
Sylvanas stepped forward and took his hand, squeezing it to let him feel the warmth of her palm.
"Promise me, no matter what, you must survive. I know revenge is important, but I would rather not see anything happen to you."
"You are my husband. I promised to marry you. If you die, I will not live alone."
The valiant elven ranger dared to love and hate, never concealing her feelings.
Ever since Arthas went to Quel'Thalas for her, and rescued most of her elven kin with just a few hundred soldiers, this debt of gratitude was immeasurable, enough for her to pledge herself to him and willingly become his wife.
Silvermoon City was rebuilt, gleaming with golden light, so what was that golden day?
Hearing Sylvanas' confession, Arthas couldn't help but smile, and much of his anger and self-blame dissipated.
"Thank you, Sylvanas. Let's have the wedding tomorrow. You and Jaina will marry me together."
"The territory also needs uplifting news to boost morale. I will always protect you and Jaina. I promise you I won't die!"
Upon hearing this, Sylvanas smiled charmingly. Since her parents' deaths, she had rarely shown such girlish expressions, only this time.
Even upon hearing that he would simultaneously marry other women, she didn't show an ounce of anger.
Perhaps after enduring so many hardships, these things no longer mattered.
Which powerful man doesn't have the support of several women behind him?
"Good."
A simple answer, deep affection, no need for words to express; actions were the best proof.
She turned and embraced her beloved Human prince, then looked up and proactively leaned in to kiss him.
What is love?
It is two people who like each other being together, simple and unadorned, without any frills.
In the central area, a statue rose from the ground, formed of pure energy.
First, the energy of life surged, somewhat similar to the Fountains of Life one might encounter in battle maps. Staying nearby, even undead could slowly recover health by a percentage.
Then, the energy of arcane magic pulsed, a Fountain of Mana!
Restoring mana by a percentage.
The two merged to form a brand new statue, and this statue was none other than Arthas!
Lifelike, he held Frostmourne in his right hand, extended forward and to the side, clad in azure armor, with his cloak gently fluttering.
An invisible power continuously expanded, covering the crude camp, extending outwards through forests, beaches, swamps, and farmlands.
It finally settled on a range of one hundred kilometers. Within this area, all citizens, soldiers, priests, mages, and so on, involuntarily knelt and worshipped the statue.
A soft music slowly echoed in their ears, the faint whispers of the howling wind as Arthas, having fallen to become a death knight, ascended the Frozen Throne and donned the Helm of Domination.
There was both sadness and tragedy, followed by an infinite sense of hope taking root and sprouting!
Even Sylvanas slowly knelt. This was not only her lover, but also the future King of Lordaeron, and the leader of the Alliance!
The severely injured and unconscious Calia and Modera also awakened, feeling an unprecedented tranquility under the statue's aura.
Even the hidden spies involuntarily knelt at this moment, feeling an urge to change their allegiance.
Many spies wavered, while others resisted stubbornly, eventually unable to bear the torment. Their bodies ignited with energy flames, disappearing without a trace, their souls also annihilated.