The chaos in Stratholme began to spread, and soon spiraled out of control...
Prince Arthas and the more than two thousand troops under his command—including a certain young wizard, Harry Potter—were racing across the sea aboard five medium-sized Lordaeron warships. With the wind at their backs, their sails were full and their rigging taut as they doggedly pursued the fast ship speeding north ahead of them, its distance from their fleet wavering between near and far.
After all,
they had already defeated the demon Mal'Ganis in Stratholme's harbor district and had "almost" killed him. So, when they saw him use magic to enslave and control the sailors aboard a fast ship and successfully "escape" out to sea, they naturally had to keep pursuing him.
Arthas refused to give up because he wanted to execute the source of the plague—the evil devil who controlled the Undead and spread the plague across the Kingdom of Lordaeron, causing the deaths and injuries of perhaps nearly a million people. He absolutely could not let Mal'Ganis escape! As for the scarheaded young wizard, he was simply out for revenge. The two were in perfect agreement, and neither brought up abandoning the pursuit and returning to port.
Now, after chasing the ship for most of the day, they could no longer see land anywhere behind them. That made it even less likely they would give up halfway. They could only press on, no matter how uneasy they felt. As for Stratholme's condition and what was happening inside the city, they had no time to care.
After all, even if they went back, they couldn't change anything, nor could they save the people of Stratholme who had been infected with the plague.
"Ah..."
"Harry and Prince Arthas are simply too young. Even an old man like me