Lich King

A beam of golden energy erupted from the Frozen Throne and shot into the sky.

At this moment, every living being across Northrend could see the golden pillar clearly simply by looking up. It represented the final victory.

Lich King Arthas had been destroyed. He was dead.

Northrend would never again suffer the scourge of the undead.

Icecrown Citadel, the Frozen Throne.

Looking at her former lover, Jaina still shed two tears. She stood quietly to one side, taking one final, incomparably careful look at Arthas, who appeared to be asleep—her beloved from days gone by.

There was no evil, no madness, and even less coldness on Arthas's face.

His expression was so familiar, as though that Lordaeron prince who had once been filled with justice and fairness had returned.

"Father..."

Queen Cariath was somewhat emotional.

Old King Terenas looked at his once utterly timid and naive daughter, who had possessed no opinions of her own. A kindly smile appeared on the features of his spirit.

"I am proud of you, my daughter... You have grown up. You are no longer that little girl who used to cry so easily. Lordaeron... I leave it to you. You are the Menethil family's final hope."

Cariath immediately nodded firmly, forcing back her tears.

"I will, Father. I won't let you down."

Terenas turned to Tirion again. "There must be a new Lich King. The undead Scourge scattered throughout Northrend still number in the vast multitude. They must not lose control. Someone must... bear this heavy responsibility."

Tirion nodded as he watched old King Terenas's soul slowly dissipate.

The paladin walked toward the Helm of Domination dropped by the Lich King and tried to bend down to pick it up, but he did not succeed.

A dark golden spear of energy immediately blocked