The Undead Galenbro

"Lead me to them, and I will grant you eternal life."

At Arthas's words, Galenbro jerked his head up, but Arthas's Frostmourne still slit his throat.

Galenbro fell to the ground, both hands clamped over his throat, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. No matter how hard he pressed, though, blood still seeped between his fingers. His eyes wide, Galenbro stared at the blood pooling around him. Gradually, the fear left his gaze, and his hands slipped from his neck.

"Your Majesty, Lich King, he's just a nobody. Is he worth using Frostmourne to resurrect?"

Once Arthas had finished, Kel'Thuzad, cloaked and flanked by four Death Knights, approached him. He glanced at Galenbro lying in the pool of blood, then at Frostmourne in Arthas's hand, and spoke with some regret.

"Kel'Thuzad, you should be in that flying coffin of yours. Why have you suddenly come to find me?"

Arthas's voice had lost all its former resonance. His undead body and four years of cold had left him with nothing but a rasp, making him sound like a washed-out recording. Anyone who heard it had to grit their teeth.

But it didn't matter. Kel'Thuzad's voice was much the same, and to the Undead, it was no big deal.

"Your Majesty, Lich King, I came down from my necropolis because I'd like to borrow Frostmourne's power and make one of my knights stronger."

As he finished speaking, Kel'Thuzad's bony fingers shifted around his staff. The tallest of the four Death Knights behind him stepped forward and removed his helmet, revealing a handsome, fair-skinned face.

Arthas glanced at him, then turned and walked toward Sindragosa.

"I need a day to rest. Bring him back tomorrow."

"That's all right, Lich King. I'm willing to wait!"

As soon as Kel'Thuzad finished speaking, Galenbro,