The undead can also die again, resulting in their complete annihilation, where even resurrection becomes a distant dream. Those who are revived again are merely mindless skeletons; once they lose control, they go mad, destroying and hacking everything in sight, no different from wild beasts.
Unlike the infinite resurrection of demigods, they only have one life. Once dead, they are truly gone and cease to exist. Even their souls are annihilated, which is no different from total destruction.
Just as the executioner's blade was about to fall, a surge of necromantic power enveloped Taelan and forcibly pulled him away. He was displaced by a force he could not resist—the Death Knight's unique skill, Death Grip.
"Taelan, how did you get beaten into this state? Don't worry, I'm here. Go to the rear to rest and reorganize. Stitch your body back together; leave the rest to me."
Darian's voice rang out; he was the one who had just saved his close friend. Because the Lich King was channeling power, he felt an intense sense of dread, which led him to see his friend nearly dying under the blade.
"Renault did this. It seems the Lich King channeled power to him. He went underground with Anub'arak. Be careful."
Taelan's voice was not weak; his body was merely incomplete. This was one of the advantages of being undead. The body could be quickly healed through stitching and patching, though it wasn't aesthetically pleasing.
Now that they were undead, there weren't many things left to care about, as long as they could survive. At least until they had their revenge against the Lich King Ner'zhul, they didn't want to die. They had to let Ner'zhul taste the fire of vengeance!
The Holy Light shone again, smashing the flesh-composed Abominations to pieces. Light counters darkness, especially necromantic power; though not exactly afraid, they found it extremely repulsive.
Fordring finally arrived in a hurry. Had he not been worried about an ambush causing heavy losses to the allied forces, he could have arrived even faster.
"Darian, well done. After this battle, His Majesty wishes to see you."
"Understood, General Fordring."
Darian felt a surge of joy. Although he lived as an undead, his heart still belonged to the Alliance. He was worried that his neither-human-nor-ghost appearance would be hard to accept. After all, once resurrected as undead, one would more or less carry a trace of evil.
As the Alliance army joined the fray, magic bloomed once more, delivering a heavy blow to the already chaotic and disorganized Scourge forces. With their mental command blocked, these undead scrambled like headless flies, lacking any organized formation for a charge. Some rushed forward while others veered to the sides, colliding with their own kind in a scene of total chaos.
On the side of the allied forces, human infantry led the way, raising a shield wall at the front. Behind them, Blood Elf Rangers and dwarf Riflemen provided continuous fire, while further back, mage units were being commanded to chant group spells in unison. Often, a single group Fireball spell could incinerate hundreds of undead into ash. Using fire magic in the ice and snow wasn't usually a great choice.
But all of this was for the sake of purification, even if it meant consuming more mana. The main strategy was scorched earth, leaving the Scourge no possibility of resurrecting fresh troops. With aura reinforcements, their mana regeneration kept up with consumption, so they didn't have to sit on the ground to recover immediately after a few spells.
Occasionally, when an infantryman was wounded, the priests in the back would quickly restore their health. The priests' Power Word: Shield and the shamans' Earth Shield were placed on the front-line infantry. As long as it wasn't an instant kill, they were healed faster than they took damage—a classic "attrition" tactic.
"Hurry up and keep up, you useless lot! If you don't want to lose your wages this time, then get moving. See that pass ahead? Artillery, prepare! Let the Alliance witness the goblin art of explosion!"
Marin the goblin shrieked as he directed his subordinates. These were all Goblins who had come to join him. Only a goblin could command other Goblins, keeping these cunning and lazy fellows perfectly in line.
"Aim quickly and fire! Don't let the bonus fall into the hands of those Gnomes. His Majesty said a large amount of R&D funding is coming. Whether I can get you some gold coins so you can have a few more beers or go enjoy yourselves tonight depends on you!"
.
"Heh heh, if we lose, I'll sell you all back to Kezan to work as laborers for the Venture Co.!"
"If you don't want to go back to your old slave lives, then use every ounce of strength you have! Move it!"
Competition breeds progress. Seeing the Gnomes deploy their engineering robots and launch their gyrocopters, Marin was getting anxious. If his goblin department didn't show results, they would truly be "optimized"!
"Optimized" was just a nice way of saying they'd be fired.
To save face and to show those bastards who looked down on him, he couldn't lose this battle; he had to win!
As the goblin cannons roared, the Nerubians surging in the distance were torn to shreds by the searing airwaves. Instead of hitting the front lines, they specifically targeted the distant undead barracks, bombing as much as they could.
Compared to the mechanical engineering of the Gnomes, the goblin specialty was explosions. In a battle between two armies, what could be more interesting than blowing the enemy to smithereens?
Illidan was also slaughtering on the battlefield. His size was average, but with wings on his back, his agility was high as he wove through the undead. His Warglaives slashed through, and Fel Energy covered the skeletons, burning them to ash.
From a distance, he had just seen the Death Knight Renault and the Nerubian king Anub'arak burrow underground, which looked like they were preparing to flee.
A bold idea appeared in his mind: why not choose to recruit Anub'arak?
According to the accounts of the Nerubian Elders he had contacted, this king was also a poor soul, bound and controlled by the Lich King's will, forced to become a traitor. If that bound will could be broken, he would become a most fearsome warrior.
His hatred for the Lich King would make him extremely diligent in his quest for revenge. He could kill the Lich King and, while he was at it, gather some intelligence on the orcs in Outland. At the same time, as a traitor and an undead, he could no longer survive in Northrend; he had to leave if he wanted to live.
Was there any better place than Outland? A new place, a new beginning, and revenge against the Burning Legion that controlled the undead from behind the scenes.
To live on in the name of revenge—with a common goal, it would be easy to win him over.
Illidan was quite experienced in how to recruit subordinates. Recruiting the undead was a last resort; if Arthas hadn't changed the timeline, he would have had the Naga army led by Vashj to support him.
The Naga, who had occupied The Great Sea for ten thousand years, had bred for countless generations and gathered unimaginable wealth. That was the key to Illidan being able to gain a foothold in Outland. Now, such a wealthy woman had run off to be someone's maid.
Poor ten-thousand-year-old single blind man Illidan had to start from scratch. Recruiting Blood Elves proved to be quite difficult, and the pressure on logistics was too great. Sometimes he even had to run errands and do tasks for the Alliance to exchange for food to feed his subordinates.
What kind of situation was this? The master feeding the subordinates—it was completely backwards!
But what could he do without startup capital? He had to obediently work for the Alliance to earn it.
Now that everything was normal and he saw a glimmer of hope, Illidan decided to start intercepting. He would start with the Nerubians and take down that undead king.
So, after informing Kael'thas, he led the Demon Hunters into the underground tunnels to track the fleeing Anub'arak.
The battle lasted until late at night. The allied forces sent part of their logistics team to collect the bodies, clear the battlefield, and gather the undead remains for centralized incineration.
Dathrohan was in charge of all this. As for Arthas? He wasn't in the camp at all; instead, he had gone to the nearby Sholazar Basin, a Titan laboratory.
It wasn't exactly an inspection, but rather a trip to soak in the hot springs.
Compared to the ice and snow outside, this place felt like eternal spring. Not only were there primitive dinosaurs, but there were also many giant crocodiles—clearly excellent material for leather bags!
"Phew, I didn't expect you to know this place so well. We only knew it was related to the Titans and should hold some secrets, so we never came inside."
The Red Dragon Queen tilted her head back, a relaxed expression on her face. Her toes, adorned with red nail polish, curled playfully in the hot spring.
The Aspects didn't contact the Guardians simply because the Titan Keepers had lost contact. As for various Titan ruins, they had no intention of exploring them; firstly, it wasn't necessary, and secondly, they felt it would be an intrusion.
Belonging to the same faction and valuing order, they had always maintained a sense of secrecy regarding these matters.
Ysera also came to soak in the hot spring. Her older sister had transformed into a High Elf, while she still maintained her Night Elf appearance. Her eyes glanced at her sister, then at Arthas, and her peripheral vision swept over the beauties nearby.
Yes, it wasn't just her and her sister; Sylvanas, Onyxia, and the others were also brought here to enjoy the natural hot springs together. As for work, subordinates would naturally handle it; there was no need to keep one's nerves taut at all times—that would be an exhausting way to live.
One marries wives to enjoy life, not to treat them like beasts of burden. Speaking of which, it had been a while since he had been with Sylvanas, so he specifically brought her along this time to nurture their relationship.
After all, her popularity was high; even if she didn't appear for a version or two, she didn't lack fanatical fans. Even he himself had been hyped up in the Shadowlands version, only for his appearance at the very end for a mere twenty-five points of Anima to dampen everyone's enthusiasm.
"Everything belonging to the Titans should be taken over by us. What they created wasn't necessarily out of kindness. And as far as I know, they've been wiped out; they can't manage things even if they wanted to, and they certainly can't give you power anymore."
Arthas yawned, pulled Sylvanas over, rested his arm on her fragrant shoulder, and picked up a glass of red wine to clink together.
"Have a good time."
This made Sylvanas roll her eyes slightly. As a career-oriented strong woman, being forced to take a vacation was somewhat annoying. But between her career and her husband, she still chose her husband. Though she didn't say it, in her heart, she really enjoyed staying with him.
A husband and wife are meant to live together long-term, taking care of and supporting each other. Such long separations were inherently incorrect. It was also time for her to let go of her obsession with the Blood Elf people; some things should just take their natural course, and those who can't keep up with the times should be phased out.
Though cruel, that's how the world works. One must learn to adapt; whether it's lying flat to go with the flow or resisting the torrent of the times, the final result is often being crushed to pieces.
With mages present, they could even heat the red wine. Heated red wine tasted even better. Sylvanas, however, didn't like it much; she preferred adding some juice to mix it into a cocktail. The sweet and sour taste combined with the alcohol didn't cloud her thinking or get her drunk.
With beauties in his arms and soaking in a hot spring, if only there were a dance troupe to perform, it would be perfect!
"There seems to be an Avatar of Freya here, a Titan Keeper. Let's go visit her later. We can get some information about Ulduar from her. The other Titan Keepers must also be liberated; we need to find something for them to do."
Arthas was operating on the principle of not wasting resources. To hell with those Titan Keepers; they were just workers who wanted to slack off? No way, they had to get up and work like oxen!
The Red Dragon Queen looked at her mate with some surprise, her eyes flickering as if she were thinking of something. She seemed to recall something pleasant, and a charming smile played on her lips.
"My relationship with Freya is actually quite good. I'll take you there later."
It had been a long time since they were together, and this trip provided a perfect reason to go out alone.
Although Sylvanas didn't understand these matters well, out of a wife's instinct, she could still sense the Red Dragon Queen's unusual intentions. Although she felt a bit jealous, she didn't argue. After all, they were both Arthas's mates.
Besides, Alexstrasza was very socially adept; her tens of thousands of years as the Red Dragon Queen weren't for nothing. With just a few words, she had the Ranger-General completely charmed.
"That works. The day after tomorrow, I will raid the Frozen Throne and completely erase Ner'zhul from this world. You can come and watch if you're interested, though there certainly won't be any grand spectacle."
Arthas shrugged. There would surely be many undead near the Frozen Throne. If the Lich King Ner'zhul were killed, these controlled undead would lose their minds and start a killing spree.
What did that have to do with him?
No matter where the undead spread, it was a dead end. Underground, there were the remaining Nerubians, the army of Faceless Ones sent by Yogg-Saron, and the Mantid sent by Arthas. Under the pincer attack of these three forces, no matter how many undead came, they would just be fertilizer.
If they spread to the west, they could be used as practice for the allied soldiers. Without experiencing war and practice, how would they know where improvements were needed?
As for spreading to the south, they would run straight into Wintergrasp, the territory of the Mammoth-folk. The Mammoth-folk, taller than adult elephants, could crush high-tier Abominations with a single stomp; there was no comparison between the two.
If it were an organized Scourge army, they might be able to overwhelm the Mammoth-folk with numbers, but now, with no fresh reinforcements being resurrected, the undead would lose numbers with every death. If they really charged into Mammoth-folk territory, it would likely be a welcome sight.
After all, the Mammoth-folk were a very proud race, disdainful of cooperating with any race weaker than them—not even for trade.
And spreading to the north would lead to the endless sea. Even the undead couldn't stay in the ocean for long. The pressure of the seawater combined with corrosion would cause the undead to perish unknowingly.