The Elven Prince disagreed with his father's view. In his opinion, the existence of a race depends on wisdom and strength, fairness and Justice, not on blind forbearance, inflexibility, bullying the weak and fearing the strong, or associating with evil people.
"Father, I think you should understand that the being who controls the most powerful force in this world should ideally have a compassionate and just heart; otherwise, they will bring disaster to all living beings, endless war and death," Kael'thas argued forcefully.
"The world is inherently evil, and the loss of life is the greatest misfortune."
The Elf grew increasingly disappointed with Kael'thas, and his anger intensified.
"Remember, my child, before we can control our own Destiny, we are merely seeking solace in tragedy. Sadly, I cannot prove it to you. If I were given another chance, I would choose..."
The Elf King suddenly shivered, and a strange voice reached his ears.
"If you were given another chance, what would you do, Elf King Anasterian?"
The Scourge marched forward in a mighty procession. Arthas rode alongside Robbie. The Prince, having avenged his great grudge, had a newfound wisdom in his eyes, clearly showing signs of mental growth.
Hatred did not consume him; the Prince grew more mature, and he found peace in his heart over things that were previously unforgivable and unforgivable. He learned to treat the world with kindness and forgiveness.
This relieved Robbie, even though a Prince of Justice was not Robbie admired.
In Robbie's view, people act based on reason and wisdom, not on moral constraints, but that is still a million times better than the dark Prince.
"After returning to Lordaeron, I will pay my respects to my father and also visit Uther. After being killed by Saurfang the Great, he was Corruption the dark magic of the Dreadlords. Although he is protected by the Holy Light, his soul wanders the world, unable to find peace. I hope there is a way to break free from the dark magic."
Kel'Thuzad, standing to the side, nodded, showing great interest. This was a problem he needed to solve; knowledge held immense appeal for Liches, and he was more than willing to do so.
"And what about the Mograines?" Robbie prompted, while also probing, "They're not friendly to the Scourge. I heard they've recently slaughtered a lot of Undead civilians. Those damned bastards."
"The Orcs are gone, and I think they should be able to see the truth," Arthas said with a sigh. "But wrongdoing has its price. Since Mograine made this choice, he must bear the consequences of his decision. I will not kill him; I will resurrect him as a general of the Scourge, so that he may atone for his sins."
Arthas was not entirely governed by the doctrine of good; he had a standard in his heart to measure good and evil.
This kind of Arthas is clearly more worthy of admiration.
Arthas suddenly showed a strange expression. He sensed something, frowned deeply, pondered for a moment, and then said.
"Robbie, there's one thing I've always wronged you about: that Holy Light Codex."
"It was Medivh who damaged it, it's not your fault," Robbie waved his hand dismissively.
"I know, but it is still your treasure. I will have an artisan make an exact copy. I remember all thirty-six Runes. Consider it compensation to you." Arthas said urgently, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
Robbie took a deep breath. Was this the cycle of history? Origin and outcome?
It seems that the Holy Light Codex was indeed created by Arthas. No wonder Robbie Capor, who was just a small-time adventurer with little reputation back then, was able to possess such a valuable item.
"Alright, deliver it directly to Lakeshire, to Capor's house. Oh, and put your name on it while you're at it."
"I will."
Arthas patted Robbie on the shoulder, a hint of relief in his expression. He nodded and smiled, the moment frozen in time.
Boom!
The image of Arthas before Robbie shattered, transforming into countless planes, lines, and points.
At the same time, the powerful Scourge, everything around Robbie, all things in the world, the entire world, were collapsing, shattering, blurring, turning into tiny dust particles like a sandcastle collapsing in Gale.
What's going on?
Robbie was completely stunned. In the blink of an eye, he was all alone in the world. Even the earth had disappeared. He was the only one left, suspended in the desert of time.
Everything disappeared, and all that could be seen were patches of white light. Robbie grabbed a handful of the light and watched them slip through his fingers. They seemed like fine sand, but not quite; they had a flowing, watery feel to them.
The world was utterly desolate. Robbie floated in the air, unable to distinguish up from down from left from right. It seemed that even distance had vanished. With the slightest movement, he traveled thousands or tens of thousands of miles, drifting aimlessly.
He saw, among the countless points of light, enormous, blurry figures, towering giants, and monsters as massive as mountains. He also saw ruined cities, appearing and disappearing amidst the white points of light.
Robbie saw a city in ruins, merely sand sculptures formed from specks of light, maintaining certain shapes, ready to shatter at the slightest touch. The architectural style was not modern; it was neither human nor Elf.
Survival and death, the demise of civilization after civilization.
Robbie also saw deep within the light spots: several grotesque creatures, a giant eyeball, a monster with a terrifying mouth, the Old Gods C'Thun and Yogg-Saron, all still in their original forms. The surrounding light spots were black, like winding tentacles, taking root in all directions.
Is this the Corruption of Azeroth by the Old Gods?
Boom!
After this brief silence, everything around changed again. The light gradually condensed, forming countless points, which converged into straight lines, and the straight lines formed surfaces.
A colossal, earthen-yellow Dragon was the first to break free of its restraints, and the Bronze Dragon Aspect Nozdormu gazed upon this newly reborn world.
"The Sands of Time, it really is the Sands of Time again. What did I do? Right, I challenged Medivh, but failed. There's something I can't remember."
Nozdormu stared at Robbie, and Robbie was looking at him too.
"Who is this person?" Nozdormu was a little confused. He couldn't remember. The Bronze Dragon Aspect was beyond time, but even during the Sands of Time, he would still forget some things.
"This person is unaffected by the Sands of Time, could he be..."
"The Sands of Time! The Sands of Time!" Nozdormu shouted, shook his head, and flew into the distance.
The Timeline of Azeroth is a network structure, with each historical event as a node on the network. Different outcomes lead history in different directions. Nozdormu exists at every point on this network, yet he can also exist independently outside of it. He is the maintainer of time and the best observer, and he must find his proper place.
The world is being reborn.
In the blink of an eye, everything reappeared. Robbie only felt a blur before his eyes and saw the Elven Prince's wicked smiling face:
"Jaina and Thrall would never guess that I've already obtained the data on Silvermoon City's Magic Shield. When the Scourge slaughters those damned green-skinned Orcs, I'll be eager to see Jaina's expression at that moment. Oh, and I absolutely must leave Thrall to me. I want to break off his fangs myself; it will be one of the Elven Prince's most treasured possessions."
Robbie was dumbfounded.
This is... back to before the Silvermoon City War!
Is the so-called "Sands of Time" like a server restart?