Establishing Authority: The Destruction of the Argent Crusade

"Stranger, you mean you're abandoning Undercity?"

A murderous glint flashed in Sylvanas's beautiful yet deep eyes.

The poor Troll, oblivious to the Dark Lady's murderous intent, continued his eloquent speech:

"Your Majesty, once the Alliance and the Horde each control a continent, Azeroth will be in a delicate balance, and then we can..."

"Stranger, you want me to abandon Undercity? Did that old bastard Greymane send you?" Sylvanas coldly interrupted him, mocking, "You think you can fool me like that?"

The Troll was horrified; he had already sensed the murderous intent in the queen's tone.

But he was helpless. He knew his wisdom was limited, and his only advantage was knowing how the situation would develop in the future. He hurriedly explained:

"Your Majesty, you misunderstand. This is merely a temporary measure; abandoning Undercity is to secure a greater victory."

"I don't want to hear your lies, I only want to hear the truth. Who sent you here, Antonidas?"

A sharp ice spike pierced the Troll's skull. Antonidas's magic was skillful and his killing technique superb, ensuring that not a single drop of blood would be shed.

Sylvanas now extremely fastidious; for example, she no longer eats fresh, bloody Tauren. She prefers cooked food, such as beef hot pot.

Antonidas grabbed the Troll's corpse, walked outside, and returned shortly after.

Sylvanas found it strange that turning a corpse into Undead shouldn't have been done so quickly, especially since Antonidas wasn't skilled in dark magic.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, I can't find his soul!" Antonidas exclaimed in astonishment.

Sylvanas hesitated for a moment, sensing something was amiss, but she didn't think much of it, assuming it was just an accident.

"Let's begin. I understand the High Elves; only through a combination of kindness and severity can we secure their eternal submission."

With a deafening roar, the ground shook violently, and the Light's Hope Chapel trembled as a colossal beast slowly approached.

Pit Lord Mannoroth of the Abyss arrived at the entrance of the Light's Hope Chapel. He knew this was the most sacred sanctuary for Paladins, and the Secret Sanctum of Holy Light was located beneath the chapel, where countless Paladin Corpses lay dormant in the cemetery below.

Under the watchful eyes of countless heroic spirits, Mannoroth revealed Evil and smug smile, followed by Tirion Fordring, who was all smiles and bowing obsequiously.

"Tirion Fordring, we saved you from the time loop in Karazhan, you promised us."

Tirion Fordring, leader of the Argent Crusade and master of Ashbringer, bowed respectfully to the Pit Lord: "Great Pit Lord, for the sake of Azeroth, the Argent Crusade is willing to serve the Dark Lady."

Mannoroth emitted a rumbling sound, piercing and Evil:

"Tirion Fordring, the loyalty of the Argent Crusade alone is not enough. Countless Corpses lie buried beneath this Light's Hope Chapel, said to be those of despicable villains who fought against the Scourge, the Betrayer to humanity. They were buried here to prevent them from being used by the Lich King. Now, I want them to serve the Dark Lady. Are you willing to accept this great honor?"

Tirion Fordring's eyes darted around, sensing he could gain more, and he immediately shook his head, saying, "No, we've already reached an agreement. Let these Restless Souls rest in peace. By the Holy Light, I will not betray them."

"Hehe!"

Mannoroth looked down at Tirion Fordring, knowing the man's thoughts clearly, his voice laced with seduction:

"Tirion Fordring, by human lifespan standards, you are old. Human life is short and sorrowful. Even with the Power of the Holy Light, you are destined not to live forever. Look at Antonidas. He has received the Dark Lady's blessing. Even after your bones decay, he will still be able to live healthily."

"Tirion Fordring, the Dark Lady has high hopes for you. Are you willing to become her Dark Lady? You are the master of Ashbringer. Believe me, the Dark Lady is willing to bestow upon you the same glory as Antonidas."

This was exactly what Tirion Fordring wanted. Suppressing his inner elation, Tirion Fordring still wore a troubled expression.

"I will forever remember the glory of the Dark Lady. She will surely save Azeroth. I wish these heroic souls could rest in peace, but for the sake of Azeroth, I am willing to help the Dark Lady gain their loyalty."

"Very well, Tirion Fordring." Mannoroth nodded in satisfaction. "The Dark Lady has heard your loyalty. You will get what you want, I swear. So let's begin."

At that moment, Lor'themar and his two friends, Ranger-General Halduron and Archmage Rommath, were hiding nearby, observing the Light's Hope Chapel through a telescope.

"It's Mannoroth and the Betrayer Tirion Fordring, what are they up to?" Lor'themar asked, puzzled.

Antonidas stepped out of the Light's Hope Chapel and opened a Portal. A few Undead Mage and a large group of Undead apothecaries emerged from the Portal and gathered together, seemingly preparing for some magical ritual.

Lor'themar felt a chill run down her spine; there was an ambush. Sylvanas was indeed up to no good.

The Undead apothecaries carried Plague sprayers filled with green liquid. The apothecaries of Undercity were far more fanatical than those of the Scourge. The Lich King's Plague research mainly targeted the dead, while Sylvanas targeted the living.

Antonidas commanded the Undead Mage to work with him and summon a massive Portal.

A large group of Argent Crusade Warriors emerged from the Portal, their young faces weathered and bewildered. Then, countless tentacles rose from the ground, entangled their bodies, and rendered them immobile.

The Undead began spraying Plague, and the soldiers of the Argent Crusade tore off their flesh, revealing their bare bones, and let out painful howls. Tirion Fordring watched all of this coldly from the side.

"For Azeroth, it's a worthwhile sacrifice," he roared, feeling utterly justified.

Lor'themar and his two friends were horrified. Sylvanas was truly ruthless, turning a living person into Forsaken. Of course, Tirion Fordring's betrayal was expected and not surprising at all.

One after another, the Argent Crusade emerged from the Portal, and Sylvanas quickly gained a loyal Undead army, with exposed bones, mutilated flesh, terrifying red light in their eye sockets, and unwilling roars.

As the last soldier stepped out of the Portal, the Argent Crusade finally became history.

"Then, Tirion Fordring, you should hand over the key to the Light's Hope Chapel's protective barrier." Mannoroth stared at Tirion Fordring.

The crypt beneath Light's Hope Chapel is protected by a barrier of Holy Light bestowed by the Naaru, which even the Lich King Arthas could not penetrate.

Tirion Fordring smiled slightly and handed over Ashbringer.

Mannoroth asked in surprise, "Is having Ashbringer enough?"

Tirion Fordring nodded. "That's right, Ashbringer can open the barriers of the catacombs."

Mannoroth chuckled, "If I'd known it would be this simple, I wouldn't have wasted my energy. Before receiving the Queen's favor, I imagine you'd like to see an old friend."

"An old friend?"

Tirion Fordring was wondering what was going on when he suddenly felt a chill in his chest.

A sharp dagger pierced Tirion Fordring's chest, and a ferocious Orcs emerged from behind Tirion Fordring. Time had left deep marks on the Orcs; his hair and beard were graying, and his face was covered with wrinkles.

"Race does not define honor, Tirion Fordring. I've long wanted to taste your flesh. I am a noble Orcs, and it is your honor to be devoured by me, for the sake of Azeroth."

"Eitrigg."

Tirion Fordring felt a chill run down his spine.