After Sylvanas became the leader of the Allied Forces, the chaos between Theramore and the Darkspear Trolls finally subsided.
Afterwards, King Varian of Stormwind City, King Bronzebeard, the Dwarf leader of Ironforge, High Tinker Mekkatorque, the Gnome, Lor'themar Theron, the Regent of the Blood Elves, all arrived in Northrend.
The allied camps stood side by side, banners fluttering in the breeze, the air filled with shouts and the neighing of horses. Apart from the Night Elf race, the Alliance and the Horde had never been so united.
This was a true Feast, and all the leaders knew that the Scourge was at its end.
Whoever can kill Arthas will gain the great glory of destroying the Scourge, inherit the Scourge's lands and legacy, and win a wider living space for their race.
With the tacit approval of the Emissary, Sylvanas convened a leadership meeting.
Because Icecrown Citadel has limited space and cannot accommodate the large armies of various races, Sylvanas proposed that each race leader lead only one thousand elite troops into Icecrown Citadel, and whether or not they can kill Arthas depends on their own abilities.
This relatively fair proposal received everyone's support.
On this day, the armies of the Alliance and the Horde surrounded Icecrown Citadel, and the leaders of each race led their carefully selected elites into the Icecrown Citadel.
The leaders had long anticipated this, and before the official operation, each race sent out scouts to investigate. They discovered that Icecrown Citadel was completely deserted, and even the Argent Crusade soldiers who had defected to the Scourge had vanished without a trace.
The scouts made their way to the Frozen Throne, only to discover a massive Frost within which the Lich King Arthas, along with the throne, was frozen, seemingly in a Frost slumber.
The entire Icecrown Citadel was scouted, and not a single Scourge soldier was found, which put all the leaders at ease.
The Undead Varian looked at the thousand-strong army behind him. After selling out the land of Duskwood, Varian had obtained about five thousand Troll slaves from the goblins in Booty Bay Goblin. With the addition of the Gnolls, Murlocs, and other captives he had brought, he had finally managed to muster ten thousand soldiers, thus not disgracing Stormwind City.
In previous wars, King Varian had always been the leader of the Alliance, but unfortunately, the Kingdom of Stormwind was no longer what it once was, and in this crucial battle, he was merely a supporting character.
Varian understood that the Scourge had been destroyed, and now the Horde was the one they needed to guard against most.
Looking at his Trolls and Gnolls, Varian sighed, feeling isolated and helpless, and decided to talk to King Bronzebeard.
In contrast, King Bronzebeard of Ironforge was full of confidence and looked down on the Undead Varian.
Bronzebeard thought to himself: After the victory against the Scourge, it's time to change the leader of the Alliance.
The Stormwind City army advanced alongside the Dwarves, Gnomes, and Draenei, providing cover for each other. Varian quietly broke away from the ranks and approached Magni Bronzebeard.
"King Bronzebeard, Sylvanas is now the leader of the allied forces. Although most of the soldiers in the Argent Crusade are human, Tirion Fordring is clearly in cahoots with the Horde. In addition, the Night Elf race have refused to participate in the war. If the Horde's power surpasses that of the Alliance, we must prepare as soon as possible."
Magni Bronzebeard scoffed, saying disdainfully, "Varian, don't forget who you are. You are now a Forsaken, and I'm worried you might side with Forsaken."
Varian was furious upon hearing this, but unfortunately he couldn't refute it and could only lower his head in silence.
Magni Bronzebeard clenched his fist, a confident smile on his face, "Whatever Sylvanas's schemes may be, they cannot escape my grasp."
Meanwhile, Tirion Fordring and Lor'themar were trying their best to curry favor with Sylvanas. Tirion Fordring had previously cooperated with Sylvanas and hoped to use this relationship to gain Sylvanas help.
Lor'themar was Sylvanas's former Adjutant and wanted to use this relationship to gain Sylvanas's support and secure more benefits for the Blood Elves.
Sylvanas remained calm, simply asking, "Tirion Fordring, has there been any news from Taelan?"
Tirion Fordring immediately looked embarrassed, and after a long pause, he replied, "I haven't heard from Taelan for a long time."
Sylvanas was slightly moved, a sudden sense of foreboding washing over her. Icecrown Citadel was empty and silent, like a vast tomb. Sylvanas looked around uneasily, murmuring, "Don't you all feel that we've overlooked something?"
Lor'themar said ingratiatingly, "Your Majesty, you need not worry. The Scourge cannot cause much trouble."
Sylvanas bit her lip. "I hope I'm just overthinking it."
Jaina's Theramore army is in the most awkward position. Now that the Orcs are weak, neither the Alliance nor the Horde welcomes her, so Jaina can only lead the army at the very back.
The journey was uneventful. The armies of each race were stationed on the second and third levels respectively. At Sylvanas's suggestion, the leaders of each race led a small number of guards to the Frozen Throne.
On the throne, only the howling wind blew incessantly. Within the vast Frost, Arthas, wielding Frostmourne, sat motionless, seemingly watching the visitor silently.
Sylvanas approached the Frost figure and said with a hint of smugness:
"Arthas, how arrogant and powerful you were back then! Who would have thought you'd end up like this? The Scourge is finished. Why don't you come out and die?"
Just then, Sylvanas suddenly noticed that Arthas, who was in the Frost, had opened his eyes and his lips were moving slightly. Sylvanas was so startled that she almost screamed.
A majestic voice echoed in Sylvanas's ears:
"Sylvanas, have you forgotten who caused your tragedy today?"
Boom!
Unaware of what had happened, Sylvanas found herself lying on the ground, surrounded by shouts of battle, as if she had been transported back to the night Silvermoon City was slaughtered by the Orcs.
She was surrounded by Orcs, including Thrall and Saurfang the Great, who opened their gaping maws, their sharp fangs tearing at her flesh. Sylvanas was powerless to struggle and could only watch helplessly as she was devoured into a pile of bones.
"No, no!" Sylvanas screamed in pain, collapsing to her knees.
Meanwhile, Jaina was also lost in confusion. She was in Orcs camp when Thrall bit off her arm and chewed on it.
This immersive memory nearly drove Jaina to the brink of collapse.
The Tauren leader Cairne Bloodhoof, was the most low-key of them all. At this moment, he was in Thrall's Tent, watching helplessly as a young Tauren was devoured by Thrall. It was Cairne's beloved son, screaming in agony, while he was powerless to do anything about it.
Vol'jin knelt on the ground, clutching his head in anguish, as he witnessed the Darkspear Trolls being slaughtered by the Orcs and becoming Orcs rations.
The illusions of the past tormented the leaders of all races, but when it was all over, Arthas's majestic voice echoed across the Frozen Throne.
"Foolish Alliance and Horde, you are nothing but a bunch of trash. You have been betrayed and slaughtered by the Orcs time and time again, yet you never learn your lesson. Look at what's up in the sky!"
Sylvanas looked up sharply and saw green clouds covering the sky, a terrifying Maelstrom spinning continuously, and countless green meteors with long tails falling from the sky, their target the allied forces of various races surrounding Icecrown Citadel.
That's right!
The Burning Legion's Infernal.
Sylvanas then realized that Thrall had already disappeared without a trace.