"A conspiracy? What kind of conspiracy?"
The messenger mentioned Prince Arthas, which eased Uther's anxiety somewhat.
Although it's said that Prince Arthas's strength has suddenly surged, unexpectedly defeating High Saurfang the Great at the gates of Blackmist Fortress, how much trouble can a powerless, exiled Prince, without troops or authority, really cause?
"This is a conspiracy by the Burning Legion, and the beginning of Prince Arthas's descent into corruption." Experiment 335 said with deep sorrow and regret, "The mastermind behind this conspiracy is none other than the Dreadlord Mal'Ganis."
"You even know Lord Mal'Ganis?"
Uther's brows furrowed deeply, his expression grim. Thrall's secret collusion with the Dreadlord had reached Kalimdor across the ocean so quickly? This meant the Silver Hand's stigma was now difficult to conceal.
The drunken Experiment 335, didn't notice the honorific "sir." He continued to revel in the pleasure of reciting a prophecy, speaking eloquently:
"Afterwards, Arthas and his lover Jaina traveled to Stratholme, where they encountered his mentor, Lord Uther, who is present here today. Unfortunately, most of the people of Stratholme had been infected with the Plague."
"Etc."
Mograine interjected with a question:
"Your Excellency, how did the people of Stratholme contract the Plague?"
"They refused to eat the grain contaminated with the Plague; this is a conspiracy by the Cult of the Cult of the Damned," explained Experiment 335.
Uther and Mograine both burst out laughing.
"My esteemed messenger," Mograine proclaimed, "I must remind you, normal grain and grain tainted with Plague are as easily distinguishable as beef and cow dung, both in appearance and taste."
Experiment 335 was stunned for a moment; he had never seen the Plague in its true form.
"Alright, you can continue. Tell your story! The prophecy." Uther smiled and raised his glass.
Experiment 335 sensed something was amiss, but continued:
In Stratholme, Arthas wanted to massacre the entire city, killing all the Plague- infected citizens, even though the disease hadn't yet taken hold in them. The loving Jaina and the benevolent Lord Uther clearly wouldn't condone such cruelty, and they jointly condemned Arthas. Arthas ruthlessly dismissed Uther from his post, severing ties between master and apprentice. Jaina left heartbroken, and Arthas, with a lonely heart, slaughtered Stratholme, thus descending into the Abyss of corruption.
Uther clapped his hands and praised, "Your Excellency, I must admit, your story is very interesting, but unfortunately, your character is somewhat inconsistent. In that situation, as the leader of the Silver Hand, I wouldn't have been so pedantic. If such a thing had really happened, I would have certainly joined Prince Arthas in massacring the city."
Experiment 335 looked at Uther in surprise. "Sir Uther, do you agree with His Highness the Prince's actions?"
"Okay, maybe I wouldn't agree in history or in stories, but this is reality. Reality is cruel. Having witnessed countless deaths, how could I become so indecisive? I hate myself for being like this. And Jaina, she's not a girl capable of showing compassion to humans. I can only say that your story aligns with the expectations ordinary people have of us, but it's not reality. Please continue."
Experiment 335 was increasingly shocked, feeling as if he were floating, living in a dream.
In Stratholme, Prince Arthas encountered the Dreadlord Mal'Ganis and learned that the Dreadlord was the mastermind behind the Plague. Seeking revenge, Arthas traveled to the frigid Northrend and obtained the whereabouts Frostmourne the Runeblade Mal'Ganis. Unaware that this was part of a larger Dreadlord conspiracy, Arthas, wielding Frostmourne, was completely consumed by the Runeblade, becoming a powerful Death Knight, the leader of the Scourge, and the spokesperson for the Burning Legion. He returned to Lordaeron, personally murdering his father, and then killed his mentor, Lord Uther, in Andorhal. The Scourge descended, and Plague and fear spread throughout Lordaeron.
"Ha ha!"
Uther and Mograine were both laughing so hard they were doubled over.
"Your Excellency, may I ask whether Frostmourne chose Arthas, or Arthas chose Frostmourne?" Mograine asked rather tactfully.
"The Dreadlord needs someone to lift Frostmourne, why does it have to be Prince Arthas? What makes him worthy of it?" Uther asked bluntly.
"Because," Experiment 335 couldn't say.
"Arthas is a good boy, he wouldn't do that," said King Terenas.
"Your King, this is an unmistakable future. If left unchecked, it is destined to be a tragedy in Lordaeron. Please believe me."
Experiment 335 grew anxious. "I need to confront Prince Arthas, where are the others?"
"Two years ago, my son Arthas was already exiled to Deathknell," King Terenas said expressionlessly. "Why try to stop him? He simply couldn't."
"The Prince was exiled?" Experiment 335 asked in disbelief. "But what about your death?"
"I have already foreseen my own death," King Terenas said calmly. "The one who will kill me is..."
"It's me."
A deafening roar echoed from outside the door. Thrall, clad in black plate armor and wielding Thrall Doomhammer, strode into the Throne Room, carrying a leg and chewing on fresh meat.
"Only I, the great Savior Thrall, am worthy to kill the Evil King Terenas of Lordaeron!" Thrall glared at King Terenas. "Lordaeron has such flesh-and-blood humans! How dare you hide the Orcs' rations! King Terenas, you will pay the price for your despicable act!"
What have you been doing?
Uther roared, "These are not the people of Lordaeron, they are the subjects of my Thorium Territory!"
"Oh, really! Paladin, then I can only apologize."
Thrall grinned widely.
"Oh, by the way, the Guardian asked me to bring a small gift."
Thrall tore open the Magic Scroll, and a raven flew out, transforming into Medivh's image, and opened its beak to say:
"Terenas, how does it feel to be dominated by despair? I once doubted humanity, but I decided to leave you a glimmer of hope. I will give you and the people of Lordaeron a way out. The only hope is to send your people far to the west, to the forgotten land of Kalimdor. I have warned you, your Destiny is now in your own hands. Take care, foolish King."
At this time, most of the people of Lordaeron had become Undead or been eaten by the Orcs. Apart from the military stronghold of Stratholme and the fiefdoms of the Silver Hand generals, such as Uther's Thorium Territory and Tirion Fordring's Hearthglen, the surviving people were actually less than one in ten.
King Terenas remained unmoved, and he smiled, saying, "You want the last people of Lordaeron to die under the trampling of foreign races, or to starve and thirst in the barren the Barrens? You know perfectly well that I will not agree to that."
"Heh heh heh, I knew it would end like this."
Medivh witnessed everything through the scroll, and he turned to face Experiment 335:
"Your story is very interesting. A good story must have a tragic element. While lamenting the protagonist's unfortunate Destiny, people instinctively overlook the story's flaws. By the way, where is that Runeblade hidden?"
"A hole on the back of the Dragonblight." Experiment 335 regretted saying it as soon as it was spoken.
"Hehehe, very good, a complete story. It will become a poignant chapter in history. Thrall, it's your turn to bring Lordaeron to a perfect close."
King Terenas closed his eyes.
The Doomhammer slammed down.