As the days went by, Uther's doctrine of "the ultimate meaning of life" attracted countless Paladins and Bards, but no one could understand what the ultimate meaning of life was. In fact, even Uther himself did not understand it.
He was like a cunning little devil, on one hand, telling everyone a fabricated story with a devout expression, and on the other hand, secretly mocking this group of ignorant fools.
Seeing them deep in thought and racking their brains filled him with joy.
Unfortunately, Uther didn't realize that among this group, he was the biggest fool.
Days passed, and for some reason, fewer and fewer people came to pay their respects to Uther's Restless Souls. Uther couldn't understand what was wrong with the people. One day, a Bards secretly approached Uther and kindly offered some advice:
"Uther, please stop talking about the ultimate meaning of life. People aren't interested in that anymore. To be honest, every time I sing about your death, the people in the tavern heckle me. Times have changed, and life is tougher now. I hope you can cater to the market's demands; people are more interested in hearing about the love-hate relationship between you and your disciple Arthas."
"Watch your words. Arthas is not my disciple," Uther said Pride. "I expelled Arthas from the Order of the Silver Hand because I found him unfit to be a Paladin."
The Bards shrugged, spread his hands, and said indifferently:
"Who cares about that? Just like your previous stories were all fabricated, Uther, times have changed. You should follow the tide of history and rewrite your stories to suit the tastes and needs of the people."
"What? You're saying my story is made up?"
Uther was enraged. Although his story was indeed fabricated, his pride wouldn't allow him to face the questioning of a mere Bards: "Watch your words, you ignorant Bards! Even Thrall, the Savior, was once my disciple!"
Upon hearing Bards's face immediately darkened:
"Uther, out of courtesy I respect you, but I will not allow you to insult the great Savior. With your paltry abilities, how can you be worthy of being the Savior's mentor? The Savior Thrall, from birth, was already learned in all things, multi-talented, mastering 36,000 languages, and versatile in all magic. The four Elemental Lords grovel at his feet, the five Old Gods willingly become Thrall's servants, Sargeras can only address himself as a junior, and the Void Lords are sworn brothers with Thrall. And you, Uther the Lightbringer, how dare you call yourself Thrall's mentor? Bah, you are not worthy!"
Uther was stunned. He hadn't expected that the mindless worship of Thrall had reached such a terrifying level.
The Bards took a step forward. Uther, in his Restless Souls state, was protected by the Holy Light and was indeed indestructible, but he didn't seem to have much of a threat. The Bards wasn't afraid of him.
"And you, despicable Uther, your greatest glory was being killed by the great Saurfang the Great, your flesh offered to Thrall, Thrall Savior, roasted and eaten. Your life was utterly worthless; your greatest glory was becoming food for the great Savior, then turning into excrement and being excreted. Uther, you are nothing but a lump of Orcs dung."
"Get out!" Uther was completely enraged; he was furious.
Afterwards, Uther began to doubt his own death. He started to wonder about the truth behind his murder. He was a Restless Souls who could hide in walls, underground, and eavesdrop on conversations between travelers and adventurers.
"Uther is a fool; he has no idea he was killed by Saurfang the Great."
"Putting the blame on the Lich King Arthas! Clearly, they're trying to ride on the Lich King's coattails."
"I initially thought Uther was a despicable person, but I never imagined he'd become so foolish after becoming Restless Souls."
"Alright, we're here to collect stories, hoping to fetch a good price. Uther's ultimate meaning in life is outdated; people now care about the Lich King Arthas. It's hateful that Uther refuses to cooperate!"
"I'm the biggest fool." Uther was extremely annoyed and in a terrible mood, which made him stay in his cold tomb all day, refusing to come out and see anyone.
Those who mock me and despise me will all be punished.
Uther cursed silently in his heart, and for some reason, this curse suddenly gave him a sense of déjà vu.
On this day, Uther sensed a familiar presence; it was an old acquaintance visiting.
He sensed a peculiar fragrance emanating from the air. Although the Restless Souls have no sense of smell, Uther has a unique way of perceiving scents.
Uther stuck his head out of the ground and saw a pair of fine deerskin boots.
"Look, isn't this the great Lightbringer Uther?"
A clear, familiar girl's voice rang out, now with a touch more maturity and composure than before.
Uther looked up and saw Jaina was wearing a light blue robe.
She was slender and graceful, with a blend of girlish innocence and mature womanly beauty. Her beautiful eyes shimmered with a captivating charm, and her wavy golden hair shone brightly in the sunlight.
Jaina, what are you doing here?
Uther never had any affection for Jaina, especially after he became Restless Souls and heard about Jaina many feats. How could a pitiful little girl who was once just a lackey of the Guardian Medivh, trembling with fear before Thrall, have become the Queen of Theramore? This made Uther jealous.
"Uther, life is hard for the Restless Souls, isn't it? Don't think that no one can harm you under the protection of the Holy Light. In fact, killing you is easy with the right price. Do you know why no one has touched you? Because of the Lich King Arthas. People fear him. There are three beings in this world who wield the power of death, capable of disturbing even the dead: Eir, the Val'kyr god; Troll Death God Bwonsamdi; and Arthas, the Lich King, is stronger than both of them combined. He provides you with protection, and this tomb is proof of that."
"You're threatening me, Jaina," Uther said, displeased.
"Threatening you is pointless, Lightbringer." Jaina looked down at Uther, her tone extremely Pride.
"I am the Queen of Theramore, and I have no intention of wasting my time. I am here to make a deal with you. Countless heroic spirits slumber beneath Light's Hope Chapel, and they refuse to accept you, believing you have tarnished the honor of Paladins. I can help you, on the condition that you tell me some stories from the past."
Uther was taken aback. Although he was Restless Souls also fear loneliness. Otherwise, why would Uther always talk about the "ultimate meaning of life" to attract the living?
"I'd like to know, how can you help me?" Uther asked, puzzled.
A green light appeared in Jaina's hand. "This is the Spectral Essence from Scholomance. Originally, it was a tool for communication between the living and the dead, nothing particularly rare. However, after I modified it, it can become a Ghostly Mask, allowing you to transform into the appearance of another Restless Souls."
"Okay, I get it, this is deception, isn't it?" Uther muttered in dissatisfaction.
Jaina smiled slightly, "Uther, your reputation is terrible. When you were alive, people had to respect you because of your status and prestige, but after your death, all your evil deeds have been exposed, and I can no longer make them accept you."
Uther hesitated for a long time before finally nodding; he had had enough of being alone.
What do you want, Jaina?
Jaina asked rather bluntly:
"I want to know how you, who have remained unknown for so many years in Northshire Abbey, managed to receive the favor of the Holy Light and become Lightbringer. Don't tell me it's out of devout faith; that only deceives ignorant believers."
Recalling his past, Uther sighed sadly, a look of remembrance appearing on his weathered face:
"It's a long story. I was born into an extremely prominent noble family in Lordaeron, but unfortunately, I wasn't the eldest son and was ostracized at home every day. I only had two paths before me: to become a mage or a monk. I didn't have the talent of a mage, so I could only choose a monastery. Because I was afraid of being harmed by my eldest brother, I ran away to the Kingdom of Stormwind."
"I became an ordinary monk at Northshire Abbey. I remember I was very young then, not even twenty years old. One day, Northshire Abbey brought in an unconscious young man."