Prince Arthas, the lord of Deathknell, is only a baron?
If the Bronze Dragonflight hadn't so confidently assured Robbie that he would be brought to the closest point to Arthas, Robbie would have definitely thought this guy was an imposter.
It's also unlikely to be a case of the same name; in the Kingdom of Lordaeron, Menethil is a noble royal surname.
Something's wrong, it's broken, the world is completely broken.
Robbie knew all too well that the history written by the Guardians was absolutely unreliable.
But I never expected it to be this outrageous.
According to the Keepers' historical records, during this period, Arthas and Jaina were a legendary couple, enjoying a blissful romance and working together to solve the mystery of the Plague in Lordaeron and find Plague source.
Is Lordaeron out of manpower? Are the mages of Dalaran all useless? Why do they have to send two young men?
As expected, the history written by the Guardians was problematic upon closer examination.
"Are you Prince Arthas of Lordaeron?" Robbie felt it necessary to confirm.
"I am Arthas, but I am no longer the Prince of Lordaeron."
Arthas stared intently at the Holy Light emanating from Robbie's fingertips; his attention was entirely focused on it. His reply was perfunctory, casually stating, "You're from Kingdom of Stormwind; some things have happened here that you probably don't know."
"I'd like to hear it," Robbie said.
Arthas slightly shifted his attention, calmly looked at Robbie's face, cleared his throat, and said seriously:
"My child, when you were born, the forests of Lordaeron whispered your name."
"Arthas."
Seeing that Arthas had stopped, Robbie picked up the conversation.
"No, it's Thrall!"
"What, Thrall?" Robbie was stunned.
"Yes, that's Thrall. That used to be my name; I changed it two years ago."
Arthas's lips curled into a bitter smile:
Two years ago, Thrall Orcs Thrall was born, and people said he was the chosen one, the Savior of the Azeroth Continent. Legendary that when Lord Blackmoore of Durnholde saw Thrall as an infant, a golden light shot into the sky, and countless Naaru transformed into tiny figures, singing and kneeling around Thrall. Blackmoore realized that this was the Savior and immediately prostrated himself in worship. When Thrall grew up, Blackmoore felt unworthy to serve as a subordinate to the great Savior and, ashamed, took his own life.
"Wow, this story is way too far-fetched," Robbie couldn't help but swear after hearing it.
Arthas sneered, "And there's more. It's said that Thrall is full of kingly aura. Not only do the Orcs worship him and flock around him, but the people of Lordaeron also welcome the Orcs. To replenish the Orcs's food supplies, the people joyfully cut off pieces of their own flesh to make Tough Jerky to reward the Orcs army."
"Okay, every king has to go through a process of being Deification before they can become a legend."
Arthas's brow was furrowed with gloom as he said in a low voice, "Later, my father adopted Thrall as his godson, banished me from Lordaeron City, revoked my Prince status, and exiled me to Deathknell."
Having released the pent-up emotions of the past few days, Arthas's expression improved slightly. He smiled wryly and said, "I recently heard that this folk song has been changed again: Brother, when you were born, the forests of Lordaeron whispered your name: Thrall."
"We've become brothers!" Robbie felt his brain couldn't process it all.
"That's right, he was initially my adopted son, but now my father has become sworn brothers with Thrall," Arthas said with a self-deprecating laugh. "You see, now the Orcs Thrall is my uncle."
Robbie fell into deep thought, processing Arthas's information.
"After saying all that," Arthas stared intently at Robbie, "You should tell me where your Power of the Holy Light comes from. I feel it's not the same path as Uther and the others."
Robbie then realized that the Holy Light on his fingertips had never gone out.
Ever since obtaining the secret of Tirion Fordring, Robbie has been processing all his food with Holy Light before eating it. After eating several meals of Draenei food, the effect was significantly enhanced, and the Power of the Holy Light within him grew stronger and stronger.
"This is the Holy Light, Arthas. Aren't you a Paladin?"
Arthas's expression grew increasingly grim, as if painful memories were being stirred up:
"Uther said I was the dumbest disciple he had ever taught. It took many Paladins pouring their Power of the Holy Light into me to barely be able to use Holy Light. Two years ago, when I was exiled to Deathknell, Uther personally stripped me of my Power of the Holy Light and warned me never to call myself his disciple, saying I had defiled the Holy Light."
This is what they call "when the wall falls, everyone pushes it down; when the drum is broken, everyone beats it."
Arthas's profound anguish and utter despair deeply affected Robbie.
Only the Holy Light at his fingertips, like a lamp lit in the darkest night, gave Arthas a sliver of confidence, and a glimmer of hope appeared on his face.
"My power comes from this book." Robbie handed the Holy Light Codex to Arthas.
Arthas took the "Holy Light Codex," stroked the cover, and laughed, "The hide of the Beasts, Chromatic Dragon, Arcane Crystals, the Blood of Heroes, haha, what fool used such precious materials to write the Holy Light Codex?"
Robbie wanted to tell Arthas that he was the author of the book, but to avoid misunderstanding, the author's name in "The Holy Light Codex" had been crossed out.
Arthas casually flipped through a few pages before closing the book. "Uther warned that the 'Holy Light Codex' is a forbidden book for Paladins; it will lead Paladin astray."
"But this book is our only hope," Robbie said earnestly. "The important thing is not the content of the Holy Light Codex, but the insights into the Holy Light within it, which came from a great Paladin."
Arthas hesitated for a moment, then finally mustered his courage. "Alright, I'll give it a try."
Robbie Deathknell.
There used to be a lord in Deathknell, who was exiled here by Arthas two years ago. He basically lived in the tomb and rarely went out. Apart from the original lord, no one knew his true identity.
Robbie, unwilling to live in a cold tomb with the female corpse, found a hotel in Deathknell to stay in.
Deathknell was also short of food, but luckily Robbie had prepared in advance.
Spell Staff, used to create food with magic, are a specialty of the Defias Brotherhood.
Although magical food is boring and tasteless, it's still better than starving.
After a few days, Robbie realized that Arthas was not an easy person to get along with. If he hadn't been interested in Robbie's Power of the Holy Light, he would never have revealed his past.
On the other hand, Robbie was merely a passerby during this period, and could return at any time if things really didn't work out, which is why he was so open and honest with Arthas.
By a twist of fate, the two became friends in a certain capacity.
A few days later, Robbie met Arthas again.
Arthas was beaming with confidence, as if he were a completely different person.
Strength gives people confidence, and great strength can change a person.
"Robbie, behold my Holy Light Burst!"
Arthas pointed, and with a loud boom, a crater half a person deep appeared in the ground.
"Wow, Holy Light above!"
Robb was startled. Arthas's talent was simply too good. Robbie could barely do that level now.
Looking at the deep crater that had been blown open, Arthas said confidently, "While I'm not as good as Uther the Lightbringer, I'm about on par with Dathrohan, Mograine, and the like."