Year 18 of the Dark Portal, Arthas was merely a rejected apprentice knight of the Silver Hand, not yet possessing the power to instill fear in the entire world.
Jaina disdained to take action, partly due to her fear of the unknown future. If she, from the future, were to kill Arthas, no one knew what terrible backlash it would cause.
After careful consideration, Jaina thought of Thrall.
Thrall is the Savior of this world; if he needs to withstand the backlash, Thrall resistance should be stronger.
The babbling brook flows gently as hundreds of Orcs toil along its banks, building Thrall's Castle.
Thrall had fewer than a thousand men under his command, and like all heroes who had just achieved success, his first desire was for luxury and indulgence.
Holding a whip, Thrall personally supervised the Orcs' work, and every day, disobedient Orcs were tortured to death by him.
Faced with this terrifying Demons, the Orcs showed their weakness, becoming as docile as lambs.
"You worthless lot, work hard! Your only purpose in life is to serve me; I am everything."
Thrall laughed triumphantly; tormenting Orcs was one of his greatest pleasures.
A strange gust of wind blew by, and Varimathras, who had transformed into human form, changed his expression drastically and hurriedly opened Legion Portal to escape.
Thrall was at a loss; the Gale enveloped his body like a blanket.
After a dizzying spin, Thrall was thrown to the ground, onto lush green grass, where several Gryphon stared coldly at him.
What place is this?
Thrall carefully stood up, a forced smile on his face, and said:
"I don't know who brought me here, but please feel free to tell me your needs, and I will do my best to fulfill them."
"What weapon are you using?" a hoarse, unpleasant voice asked, its gender unclear.
Thrall paused for a moment, then said, "An axe."
A sharp Battle Axe fell in front of Thrall, along with a black mask.
"Put on the mask, get up, and walk north along the road. You'll see a small hill with an Elf- style courtyard built on it. I'll hold off the Elves while you kill the young man with Elf."
Thrall hurriedly picked up the axe, his eyes darting around.
To avoid arousing Thrall's suspicion, Jaina cautioned, "The young man is Prince Arthas of Lordaeron. With your strength, killing him would be effortless."
Thrall grinned, letting out a sigh of relief, and said, "I know Arthas; killing him will be a piece of cake."
In Quel'Danil Lodge, the High Elf Saldo Shallowflow crafts bows and arrows, while nearby, the young Prince Arthas prepares his prey.
Arthas's blond hair was disheveled, his gaze was listless, and he seemed somewhat absent-minded.
Fortunately, his hands were very steady. Thrall tried to remind him to focus on his work, but unfortunately, he couldn't find any fault with him.
Thrall knew what Arthas was thinking and smiled:
"You're still thinking about your father! The Internment Camps established by King Terenas brought disaster to the entire Eastern Kingdoms; his mercy to the Orcs was cruelty to us."
Arthas's face fell. "I don't understand why he would do that."
"Because we cherish life," Thrall said. "Human lifespan is short, so we especially cherish our fleeting time."
Arthas shrugged. "You're right. I remember when Lordaeron was besieged. Uther made a terrible decision—he went out of the city to fight the Orcs. The Orcs were starving and on the verge of death, but suddenly they had enough food. That battle was brutal. Almost all of Lordaeron's last young men perished. My father was on the city walls."
Arthas sighed and continued, "I noticed my father's expression. He was terrified; his face was black. Can you imagine? The King of Lordaeron, the last pillar of the Seven Human Kingdoms, was terrified by a single battle. My father was responsible for that defeat; he overruled everyone's objections and supported Uther's decision."
"Uther!" Thrall's delicate eyebrows twitched. "The Silver Hand has many geniuses, why would Terenas believe such a fool?"
"Because the Holy Light chose Uther, he is the great Lightbringer." Arthas said helplessly, "The Holy Light is greater than everything."
"The price was that an entire generation of young people in Lordaeron became food for the Orcs." Thrall scoffed. "I have no prejudice against the Holy Light; it's just that you believe in Holy Light too much."
"I had the same thought, so the Holy Light abandoned me." Arthas said dejectedly.
"Is your illness serious?" Thrall asked worriedly.
"It's hard to say, but overall it's not bad. Hmm?" Arthas's expression shifted, and he grabbed the sword from the wall. "Someone's coming."
Arthas possessed a keen intuition and could always sense danger in advance.
Who is it?
Saldo Shallowflow hurriedly grabbed the bow and arrows, but the finely crafted Elf bow and arrows were as limp as noodles.
"Magic!" Saldo Shallowflow was startled, then he himself was also affected, his body going limp and powerless.
Arthas, sword in hand, stood guard beside the Saldo Shallowflow.
"Go quickly, don't worry about me!" Saldo Shallowflow shouted.
Arthas remained motionless, his gaze unwavering.
Thrall, wearing a black hood, strode in and laughed, "Arthas, today is your death day."
"Orcs."
Arthas lunged forward, his sword aimed at Thrall.
Experienced Veterans should know how to engage Orcs in prolonged combat and wear Orcs down.
Orcs excel in explosive power, while humans possess endurance; in a head-on collision, humans are destined to lose.
Unfortunately, Arthas lacked combat experience.
Thrall smiled dismissively, his Battle Axe meeting the sword with ease, using his Orcs strength to knock the sword away.
The two weapons clashed together, producing a crisp, metallic sound.
Thrall took a few steps back, his chest heaving with energy; he was actually the weaker one.
Arthas did not take advantage of the situation to pursue, for that moment he seemed to have divine assistance, as if a dozen people were helping him exert force.
The feeling was too mysterious for Arthas to grasp; he carefully savored the sensation of that instant.
"Damn it, I've been tricked."
Thrall was a shrewd man; knowing he was no match for them, he refused to be reckless and turned to flee without looking back.
Jaina, who was not far away, stared in disbelief and murmured:
Is this also an inevitable historical trend?
Because of Thrall's sneak attack, Arthas unexpectedly benefited from the misfortune, gaining access to his innate abilities, though this was only the initial form.
Arthas's limitless talent in the future stemmed from this moment of enlightenment.
This indirectly led to Arthas's awakening, and Jaina felt disgusted, as if she had swallowed a fly, yet she did not lose her mind.
"Watermodo, kill him," Jaina commanded her Water Elemental.
Watermodo, now transformed into Water Elemental, wore a bitter expression. As a time traveler, he was well aware of the taboos surrounding time and could only stagger into the courtyard.
A tall Water Elemental.
That mysterious feeling vanished instantly, Arthas, hoping to rediscover it in battle, charged towards Watermodo without hesitation.
"I've lost, I've lost." Watermodo had no will to fight, and didn't even dare to attack Arthas, so he turned and fled like Thrall.
"They're all useless, each one a piece of trash."
Jaina gritted her teeth. This mission was too important; she was willing to risk the unknown backlash to kill Arthas at all costs.