Just as Ashbringer needs to be infused with the power of Holy Light, Frostmourne finally became a true artifact after being infused with a massive amount of the Power of the Dead.
Arthas sensed an immense power, one that surpassed even the might of the Guardian Medivh.
Robbie, standing to the side, looked regretful.
He held a small Frostmourne in his hand, having absorbed only a small amount of the Power of the Dead. If Arthas's Frostmourne was a shimmering lake, Robbie's was merely a small pond.
Comparing people is a recipe for disaster; comparing goods is a recipe for discarding them.
Robbie knew that only Arthas, who possessed a special bloodline, could wield the massive Frostmourne and harness its immense Power of the Dead.
The Undead army clashed within the Lordaeron, their vengeful fury raging over the Orcs. The Orcs Legions surrounding Robbie and Arthas were quickly attacked by the Undead Scourge.
"Thrall, come forth and face your Destiny."
Arthas immediately rushed into the Throne Room, but it was already empty.
Gazing at the throne, its bloodstains still wet, Arthas felt a tremor in his heart, as if his father were still alive, watching over him from somewhere. In a daze, a mysterious voice echoed in Arthas's ears:
"He was assassinated. A trusted friend... She killed him, stabbing him right in the heart."
Garona assassinated King Llane of Kingdom of Stormwind, leading to the Kingdom of Stormwind's downfall. Thrall smashed his father's head with his hammer, destroying the Kingdom of Lordaeron.
Kingdom of Stormwind, Kingdom of Lordaeron.
A common enemy: the Orcs.
An indelible hatred.
Arthas knelt at the spot where his father had fallen, clutching the edge of the throne, weeping uncontrollably.
"Father, your son has returned. I will atone for your mistakes, and Lordaeron will be Redemption. Even if I face the most terrible accusations, suffer the most shameless slander, even if I have to fight against the entire Azeroth Continent, I will persevere, without regret, without turning back, until your soul finds peace."
"It was the sewers, damn it, Thrall was prepared, they escaped through the sewers."
Robbie surveyed the entire Throne Room and found the sewer entrance in a corner, where a pile of dirt lay scattered about, a messy scene that had clearly just been completed.
No wonder Lordaeron stinks like a giant cesspool. Thrall blocked all the sewer inlets, secretly creating a smooth escape route. What a cunning Orcs!
Arthas waved his hand and smiled indifferently:
"It's alright, let him escape! My heart is filled with hatred, but even more so with Redemption and hope. Frostmourne is hungry; it needs to devour more Orcs souls. The Orcs' bones and flesh will become the Scourge's fodder. Now, the situation has reversed. Who will be the army's rations?"
Looking at the confident Arthas, Robbie suddenly remembered an old saying.
Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river; never underestimate the Baron of Arthas in the Deathknell.
Arthas took to the streets, brandishing Frostmourne, and commanded his Undead army to exact revenge on the Orcs.
The celebratory coronation ceremony turned into a killing spree.
Thrall hadn't even settled on his throne when his kingdom was destroyed.
Arthas showed no mercy to the cruel Orcs. Under his personal command, Orcs armies were annihilated one after another. Even the valiant Orcs were afraid and terrified, and they crumbled and fled in all directions before the Undead.
In the face of terrifying death, humans and Orcs are equal.
Of the hundreds of thousands of Orcs in Lordaeron, less than half successfully broke through the siege.
Just as the Orcs treated the people of Lordaeron, Orcs flesh was also shaved off to become food for Ghouls, Abomination the rotting flesh within their bellies. Their spirit and consciousness were not wasted either; they were the favorites of Banshees and Lich mages.
The Orcs' bones piled up like mountains, used to repair the damaged Undead Body. Among the Undead were also skilled craftsmen who forged these large, sturdy bones into Meat Wagon.
In terms of corpse utilization, the Undead are clearly superior to the Orcs.
"When I was young, I made a mistake that has haunted me ever since. I've heard that everyone comes into this world with a mission, and perhaps my mission is to make amends for that mistake."
Robbie followed Arthas to the ranch. Arthas slowed his pace. The Orcs had visited the place, leaving only rotting Corpses. They had probably been resurrected, but they were indistinguishable from the Undead army.
Arthas stood for a long time before a grave overgrown with weeds.
Life, death, new life!
Arthas was pondering; a question arose in his mind.
He didn't know if these resurrected Undead were living beings. They had thoughts, self-awareness, love, hate, and grudges; they could mutate and evolve; and if they had enough Power of the Dead, they could even live forever.
Arthas posed this question to Robbie.
Are the Undead alive?
This is not just an academic problem; it seems that it should be elevated to a philosophical perspective.
Robbie found it difficult to answer the question and could only say tactfully:
"A person's life is fleeting, like grass in autumn. The most important thing in life is the unique experience, not the ending. You should ask those who Undead whether they would rather be flesh and blood, with short but rich lives, or long lives, but lifeless skeletons."
There's no need to ask; those willing to become the Undead may exist, but they are only a very small minority.
"Only those with flesh and blood are truly human. Kel'Thuzad is right; this is the true path to Redemption."
Arthas made up his mind and set a goal for himself:
"But first, they must be awakened from their eternal slumber; this is a necessary process."
Frostmourne emits a pale blue light that connects to the skeleton beneath the earth.
The grave was shattered, the earth cracked, and a skeletal horse burst through it, nestling affectionately beside Arthas and letting out a joyful neigh.
Like the Undead outside, the resurrected "Invincible" also has memories.
Life can be relived, yes, that's the proof.
Arthas longed for the moment when "Invincible" would truly be resurrected, for it to become a healthy steed, running happily on the plains, having its own mate, and producing beautiful and strong foals, before growing old and frail, and being buried in the earth.
A complete life journey consists of a beginning and an end.
With this goal in mind, Arthas's eyes cleared, and he had a plan in mind. He said:
"First, I will drive the Orcs off this continent. After that, I will lead most of the people of Lordaeron into Northrend, where the frigid winds will keep the Undead Vitality for a long time. Then, I will embark on a journey alone to find the ultimate path to Redemption."
"No, no, Prince Highness, your idea is wrong."
Robbie immediately retorted:
"A path never before trodden is destined to face countless hardships and obstacles. It is definitely not something that can be accomplished by the wisdom of one person alone. You need a laboratory, a team, a group of the smartest people to help you explore this goal. The team needs a leader, preferably a highly knowledgeable Archmage."
Kel'Thuzad?
"That's right." Robbie nodded. "No one is more suitable than Kel'Thuzad. We need to turn this Archmage into a true Lich; he will surprise us."