Are there different categories for the Undead?
Robbie didn't have a particular concept of the Undead in Azeroth.
If we had to categorize them, we could divide them into Scourge Undead and the Forsaken.
The Scourge Undead, led by the Lich King Arthas, is composed of resurrected dead infected with the Plague and corrupted undead creatures transformed by Arthas.
The Forsaken of Lordaeron, led by the Banshee Queen Sylvanas, are a self-aware and intelligent Undead race, primarily resurrected High Elf elves from Quel'Thalas.
The Undead at the Corin's Crossing belong to Arthas's Scourge, without a doubt.
"The first category is the people of Lordaeron who have been infected with the Plague."
Vanessa's beautiful eyes shone with wisdom.
"They became Undead because of the Plague in Kel'Thuzad. Most of them retained their memories of their previous lives. Apart from moving slightly slower, never aging, and children never growing up, they are otherwise normal. The Undead of Darrowshire belong to this category."
"Wrong."
Robbie chimed in at the opportune moment:
"It seems they are not yet able to have children or engage in procreation."
Vanessa glared at Robbie.
Robbie felt wronged. "Did I say something wrong? This is purely an academic issue. Don't have any prejudice or unnecessary thoughts."
"The second type is the Undead transformed from the Lich King and his minions."
Vanessa's expression turned serious. "The Lich King Arthas is terrifying. He doesn't need the help of the Plague; he resurrects the dead with powerful and pure Power of Death, preserving their formidable fighting prowess from their lifetime. The Undead at Corin's Crossing all fall into this category."
Robbie nodded in agreement. Death Knights are simply transformed beings, unrelated to the Plague. For example, Comrade Dwal Ironfist; fighting alongside him, there's no need to worry about contracting the Plague.
"The third type is Sylvanas's Forsaken."
Vanessa smiled knowingly.
"The royal apothecaries of Undercity weren't as geniuses as Kel'Thuzad, Sylvanas's understanding of the Power of Death wasn't as profound as that of the Lich King Arthas. However, the Dark Lady was a rare talent; she combined the Power of Death Plague and death to create the Forsaken, whose weakness was that they retained very few memories of their past lives."
So that's what "the Forsaken" means.
Gazing at the dim sky at the Corin's Crossing and the Gargoyles wandering aimlessly, Vanessa recounted the past in a heavy tone:
"It is said that the Plague of Lordaeron was created by the Lich King Ner'zhul, who turned the villagers who lost their lives in Northrend into zombies, forming an Undead army. Later, Kel'Thuzad received Ner'zhul's revelation and, in order to gain eternal life, willingly became Ner'zhul's servant, establishing the Cult of the Damned and bringing the Plague to Lordaeron."
Changing the subject abruptly, Vanessa said resentfully:
Unfortunately, it was a complete lie.
"A lie? Isn't that how it is?" Robbie asked, looking surprised.
Vanessa smiled dismissively and said Steadfast:
"As you understand it, the Plague is neither magic nor a curse, but a type of microorganism invisible to the naked eye. It cannot arise out of thin air; it requires millions of years of evolution. Ner'zhul merely spreads Fel energy; he has no ability to create Plague."
That's right. Scientifically speaking, the Plague was either naturally occurring or a product of careful cultivation in a laboratory. Ner'zhul alone could not possibly have invented such a powerful biological weapon out of thin air.
All lies are just to cover up one truth.
Vanessa sighed, wanting to say something, but ultimately stopped herself from speaking:
"Robbie, some truths you need to uncover yourself. This is all the advice I can give you. Shed your Orcs disguise and witness miracles with me."
Vanessa had also changed into a different outfit, which greatly surprised Robbie.
This is the attire of a high-ranking officer in Lordaeron: silver-white armor, a sky-blue cloak, and a battle robe with a double-headed eagle insignia. It suits Vanessa perfectly.
Nissa straightened her collar, held her head high, and walked toward the Corin's Crossing.
"Commander, be careful."
Robbie, having shed his Orcs disguise, quickly followed behind.
This is the dangerous Corin's Crossing, the stronghold of the Scourge 'Undead Elite Legion.
Heavy Abomination swarmed in, countless Banshee Scream, and Undead soldiers poured out from all directions, surrounding Vanessa and Robbie.
A major battle is imminent.
A colossal Abomination pounded its chest, and it awkwardly bowed, saying:
"Captain Carl of the Legion of Lordaeron, salutations to you, sir."
The Banshee's hoarse, shrill screams echoed, faintly audible:
"Nadori, a lady-in-waiting of the Lordaeron court, greets your superior."
The Undead soldiers stood in neat rows, struggling to give a military salute:
"The entire guard team at the Corin's Crossing, please receive the commander's inspection."
"They all remember."
Robbie shielded Vanessa and asked blankly.
"Of course, I've never forgotten." Vanessa's eyes shone.
"They are the Undead Scourge that people talk about, but they are also the soldiers and civilians of Lordaeron."
"They are loyal farmers, brave soldiers, good husbands to their wives, dutiful children to their parents, and immortal guardians of Lordaeron."
"Though they have become like this, they have never forgotten their homeland."
"They possess self-awareness and judgment; they remember the truth of the past, the events before and after their deaths, and genuinely support Prince Arthas."
"The Order of the Silver Hand once stood against the people; some chose to leave, while others fought for a false honor, for deception and lies."
"Old Mograine went mad and lost his mind. He used Ashbringer to kill countless people of Lordaeron, which is why Renault plunged his sword into his father's chest."
"Seeing these poor people, Robbie, aren't you going to do something for them?"
No wonder, in the Eastern and Western Plaguelands, the only ones truly resisting Scourge Undead are the Scarlet Crusade under the Dreadlord Balnazzar.
In a daze, Robbie's consciousness gradually faded, as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff.
Dark clouds blanketed the sky, plunging it into complete darkness.
On one side are Flames and Lava, icebergs and raging fire, but this is the cruel reality.
On one side, there were lush green trees, a clear stream, and adorable deer running through the woods—but it was all a facade, a lie.
What is the truth hidden behind this?
Robbie suddenly remembered a piece of knowledge from his past life.
More than a thousand years ago, the Black Death broke out in Europe, causing the deaths of a large number of people. Those who survived were the lucky ones who developed antibodies through natural selection.
During the subsequent conquest of the Americas by European colonists, a small, scattered force of a little over a hundred people was able to decimate an empire of hundreds of thousands, bringing it to the brink of extinction. During this period, Plague played a crucial role.
Such tragedies can occur simply from the clash of two continents. What will happen in Azeroth, Draenor, the Orcs invasion, and the merging of civilizations on two planets?
The Orcs internment camp has turned the once-powerful Orcs into lazy and weak creatures.
The colonists who entered the Americas also contracted many local diseases, such as the infamous syphilis.
It's just not explicitly stated, but the clues are all laid out clearly here.
Some people, for the sake of their reputation and image, don't want the world to know the truth.
They tried their best to cover it up.
This is the real reason why the Scourge Undead be eradicated.
Why must Arthas wield Frostmourne?
If the Burning Legion only created a Lich King, then Kel'Thuzad, one of the six members of the Dalaran Mages Council, far surpasses Arthas in both ability and knowledge.
Wouldn't it be better to let him become the Lich King? Why go through all the trouble of tempting Arthas?
This is all a lie, a huge black pot being thrown around.
Only Arthas's stature could bear such a burden.
Hidden beneath the Azeroth Continent of Justice and light, turbulent currents surge.
"Commander, I've met a Dwarf named Anxu Yili; we can use him."
Vanessa's eyes lit up. "How can we find him?"
"If I remember correctly," Robbie narrowed his eyes and smiled slightly, "You can find him at Myranda the Witch of Sorrow Hill."
Anxu Yili entered Stealth mode, his target a doe grazing Anjing.
The dagger was plunged fiercely into the doe's thigh, but unfortunately, it lacked the strength and only pierced the skin.
The doe, in pain, kicked the Dwarf with her hind legs and ran away.
"Whee."
The witch Myranda laughed so hard she bent over.
This is very impolite for an elderly Gnome.
Unable to contain her excitement, she laughed and said, "It's been so long since I've seen something this fun. You're the weakest Stealth I've ever seen."
Anxu groaned for a long time before finally managing to get up:
"Witch, you haven't seen my true power. In three years, I've harvested thirty-three thousand pieces of White Maggot Meat."
"Fine, fine, stop talking. You've got the guts."
The witch Myranda helplessly shrugged and said:
"Please stop bothering me. I really don't know any Scarlet Crusade disguises. You're from the Alliance; if you want to enter the Scarlet the Bulwark, just go directly there."
"The Scarlet Crusade is an Evil organization," Darkbeard roared.
"Fine, fine, the Scarlet Crusade Evil." The witch Myranda didn't want to engage in pointless arguments.
"Dwarf, listen up. You think disguise alone will work? The passwords for the Scarlet Crusade camp change daily. You can't infiltrate. Don't waste your time."
"I need a password? Nobody told me."
Darkbeard's expression changed, and he kept tugging at his beard.
"Passwords and codes are basic common sense," the witch Myranda said impatiently. "Are you ever going to stop? If you don't Dwarf up, I'm going to lose my temper."
"You little Gnome, how dare you..."
Bang!
Darkbeard flew backwards a long way; a witch who dared to roam alone in the Plaguelands was not someone to be trifled with.
A strong Orcs helped the fallen Dwarf to his feet.
"I recognize you," Anxu Yili exclaimed. "In Tirion Fordring's little hut, you were the Orcs, no doubt about it."
Anxu Yili a little scared, after all, he had offended Tirion Fordring and was worried that Robbie would cause trouble.
"Race doesn't define honor, Dwarf." Robbie patted the Dwarf on the shoulder, grinning. "I am Leonardo Brutalaxe; we can cooperate."