After the Crusaders' Coliseum fell into the Abyss, the surrounding land cracked, houses collapsed, and eventually, the entire Argent Tournament was not spared, collapsing into the Abyss and leaving only a large crater.
Built under Tirion Fordring's supervision, ostensibly to select warriors to storm Icecrown Citadel but actually to provide rations for the Orcs, the meat processing plant was finally destroyed.
Fortunately, the fall of the Argent Tournament was gradual, allowing tens of thousands of Argent Crusade soldiers in the camp to escape with their lives.
In the biting cold wind, the surviving soldiers of the Argent Crusade saw only a cloud of dust. Many soldiers knelt on the ground, embracing their heads and weeping bitterly.
"Merciful Holy Light, grant me strength! The Scourge has destroyed our homeland, and I swear here that I will exact my revenge."
"Arthas, look what you've done! The Argent Crusade will not surrender. Our soldiers are indomitable and will fight the Scourge to the very end."
"True warriors will never succumb to the difficulties before them. The Evil Scourge may have destroyed our homeland, but it will only provoke a stronger resistance."
A general of the Northern Expeditionary Army stood on a high place and shouted:
"Warriors of the Argent Crusade, the Scourge's crimes are etched in our memories. As long as courage remains in our hearts, we are invincible. The great Tirion Fordring, together with the Savior Thrall, has once again achieved a glorious victory and will surely lead us to storm Icecrown Citadel and slay the Evil Lich King Arthas."
The young general's speech was like a warm spring breeze in the cold winter, successfully boosting morale.
Tens of thousands of Argent Crusade cheered enthusiastically, their blood boiling, eager to charge into Icecrown Citadel immediately.
Just then, a rumbling sound came from the sky, and a Horde airship slowly descended. Garrosh, clad in black armor, stepped off the airship under the protection of hundreds of Orcs.
"Can anyone tell me what's wrong with the Argent Tournament?" Garrosh shouted.
The young general who was giving the speech hurriedly jumped down and said obsequiously:
"Reporting to Grand General Garrosh, the Evil Lich King Arthas led millions of Scourge troops to attack the Argent Tournament. The great Savior Thrall, the embodiment of the Holy Light, Tirion Fordring, engaged Arthas in a great battle, annihilating millions of Scourge soldiers and severely wounding Arthas. However, because Tirion Fordring's Ashbringer was too powerful, it inadvertently triggered a sinkhole."
Garrosh grinned widely and laughed triumphantly:
"So the Argent Tournament is finished, Thrall has lost his source of military rations. That's good."
Garrosh grabbed the young general, bit off his neck, and devoured the flesh with relish.
Meanwhile, Garrosh's hundreds of guards began to eat, selecting tender, noble officers from among the tens of thousands of Argent Crusade, disemboweling them in front of everyone and throwing them into large pots to steam.
Tens of thousands of soldiers of the Argent Crusade watched silently, not uttering a sound.
After Garrosh and his entourage had a hearty meal, they selected several thousand soldiers to be sent aboard the airship as provisions. Garrosh was satisfied and offered his friendly greetings to the Argent Crusade before the airship slowly departed.
Shortly after the airship departed, another general stood on a high place and cried out in anguish:
"Fellow countrymen, why have we left our homeland and entered this icy wasteland of Northrend? It is for the ideals and Justice in our hearts, so that we may live with greater dignity. We must remember the hatred of the Scourge and fight against the Evil Arthas to the very end."
Dalaran!
"Arthas has gone too far."
Upon learning of the fall of the Argent Tournament, Rhonin angrily slammed his fist on the table.
Rhonin had been overseeing the operation of the Ulduar Meatgrinder, Thrall had ordered Ulduar to provide large quantities of flesh and blood regularly.
However, with the sacrifice of many adventurers, fewer and fewer adventurers are willing to enter Ulduar.
Fortunately, Tirion Fordring's Argent Tournament took on most of the burden, allowing Rhonin a brief respite. But now that the Argent Tournament is destroyed, the pressure is back on Rhonin's shoulders.
At this moment, Thrall was eating one of Rhonin's disciples as usual, with Eitrigg and Vol'jin accompanying him. On the other side sat the expressionless Jaina and the indignant Tirion Fordring.
Thrall, his mouth full of blood, spat out a piece of bone and asked.
"Rhonin, what decision has Dalaran made?"
Rhonin clenched his fist and said, "Faced with this dark and Evil, Dalaran absolutely cannot stand idly by. As long as the Alliance and the Horde are willing to send a large army, Dalaran will fully cooperate."
Thrall nodded in satisfaction, his face contorted with rage, and said:
"Rhonin, I am satisfied with your promise. The 100,000-strong army of Stormwind City has already set out, and together with the tens of thousands of Argent Crusade, it is enough to form a powerful Legion. Rhonin, I hope that when necessary, you will be able to pilot Dalaran into the Frozen Throne."
Rhonin's heart skipped a beat. If that were true, Dalaran be utterly destroyed. But Rhonin dared not disobey Thrall's wishes and could only agree for the time being.
"Dalaran is willing to give everything for fairness and Justice in Azeroth."
Jaina looked around and suddenly asked, "Why haven't we seen King Varian?"
The heroes then discovered that King Varian was nowhere to be found.
Finally, they saw signs of human habitation in the distance. Exhausted and hungry, Varian's face lit up with joy. He wrapped his coat tighter around himself and hurried over.
After Varian tore the Teleportation Scroll apart, he found himself transported to an unfamiliar area, surrounded by white snow and ice.
Varian immediately realized his bad luck; the Teleportation Scroll had malfunctioned.
Teleportation Scrolls are, after all, man-made magical artifacts, and depending on the skill level of their creators, there is a certain probability that they will malfunction.
Varian was quite lucky not to have been teleported to the depths of the ocean or thousands of meters in the air.
Varian could only move straight ahead in one direction, but Destiny smiled upon him again, and he saw signs of human habitation when his body was nearing its limit.
This was a small camp, surrounded by a simple wooden fence. Two Dwarves stood at the entrance, their faces pale with cold, stamping their feet incessantly.
Upon seeing the travel-worn Varian, a Dwarf greeted him warmly:
"Welcome, unfamiliar adventurer, to the Argent Crusade candidate camp."
"What, the candidate camp?"
Varian surveyed the dozens of tents in the camp, guessing how many candidates were inside, and asked curiously, "What's this about candidates?"
The Dwarf explained solemnly, "The Argent Crusade fought to save Azeroth and performed countless miracles in Northrend. Joining the Argent Crusade is not easy."
Varian thought to himself: The Argent Crusade is nothing but Orcs rations, a bunch of ignorant fools, truly beyond redemption.
The Dwarf led Varian into the camp, and in a corner, suddenly lowered his voice and said:
"Young human, judging from your fine clothes, you must come from a wealthy family. Let me be frank with you: joining the Argent Crusade isn't difficult. You just need to give ten gold coins to the camp commander. The camp doesn't have any gold coins to spare; you'll earn them by doing hard labor here."
This is blatant bribery!
Varian found it utterly ridiculous. Joining the Argent Crusade was a death sentence, yet people were willing to bribe their way to their deaths. What was wrong with this world?