Their predicament

"You're right, Arthas. Purging them will take a great deal of time, but I think I can afford to wait-the trolls have proved once again that they're barely clinging to life. With allies like you and Lordaeron, I'll fight that rotten council to the bitter end." Kael'thas cleared his throat and spoke solemnly.

Sylvanas had thought the same, until Arthas broke his brief silence with his next words.

"No, you don't have that time."

"?"

All three looked at Arthas in confusion, waiting for an explanation.

"Rather, we don't have that time." Arthas felt it was time to sound a warning for these elves who still hoped to play a waiting game.

"As heirs to one of this world's oldest traditions, you should know very well that this world is far from safe-that was the original reason you Quel'dorei created the Ban'dinoriel Barrier."

Kael'thas's expression changed. "How do you know about that?" he asked gravely.

Sylvanas and Rommath both looked puzzled. One lacked a deep understanding of magic, while the other had yet to enter Quel'Thalas's inner circle of power. Neither knew this secret.

"Because the situation itself is clearly abnormal. Ban'dinoriel keeps the Sunwell's magic tightly confined to the heart of Quel'Thalas. If not for that, the trolls could never have hidden in the eastern primeval forests and mountains for so many years."

Something did seem wrong, didn't it? Caught up in the situation herself, Sylvanas had always overlooked this point-after the Troll Wars, nearly all the trolls' strongest fighters had been wiped out, while the elves still retained a considerable number of archmages. That should have been the perfect time to eliminate the threat for good. Why had they let the trolls cling to life for thousands of years?

With the Sunwell's magic behind them, the archmages should have been able to sweep through the entire forest with ease!

"In Thalassian, Ban'dinoriel means 'gatekeeper.' But it doesn't merely guard the gates of Quel'Thalas. It also guards the doorway to Azeroth."

Arthas's quiet voice reached straight into their hearts. "You haven't forgotten the great war ten thousand years ago, have you?"

"Then you should know the Burning Legion's infamy! A powerful source of magic like the Sunwell shines like a beacon in the dark universe!"

"Can Ban'dinoriel really conceal the Sunwell's magic forever? Kael'thas, don't forget the Rune Stone Gul'dan stole during the Second War! Didn't you find the aura surrounding those orcs strangely familiar?"

"The Burning Legion will be back soon."

"The Sunwell's immense energy is the demons' best option for building a massive portal, allowing terrifying dreadlords to reach Azeroth swiftly from the Twisting Nether. So when disaster strikes, what do you think will happen to Quel'Thalas?"

The human prince's words left Kael'thas speechless. An unsettling silence hung over the reception room until Arthas himself broke it. "Now, do you really think you have all that time to play political games with your council?"

"Besides, the outcome of this campaign against the trolls isn't as promising as you imagine. Zul'jin has returned and rallied the old Amani Troll forces and their Loa. In ten years at most, he and his troll army will be back!"

"When that happens, you won't be facing a small band of ragtag trolls, but an army every bit as formidable as the one from the Troll Wars thousands of years ago!"

Kael'thas glanced at Sylvanas, and the Ranger-General nodded stiffly.

The elven prince drew a deep breath. "All right, Arthas. Let's set aside the Burning Legion for now. That's still too distant a concern. But I understand our dangerous predicament now. I'll return to Quel'Thalas from Dalaran and speak with my father."

Arthas looked solemn. "Whatever happens, I'm acting for humanity, for Lordaeron, and for Azeroth as a whole. When the entire world's survival is at stake, none of us can stand aside."

Kael'thas rarely saw that expression on Arthas's face. Before ending their conversation, he asked one final question. "What you said about the Burning Legion... how can we verify it?"

"Medivh will return in five years. If you're in Dalaran then, you'll understand."

Kael'thas nodded at that. Without asking how Arthas knew, he cut off the flow of mana, and the magical image vanished.

Archmage Rommath asked no further questions either. As a loyal follower of Kael'thas, he would not meddle in matters that were not his concern. After handing Arthas the Space Pouch Kael'thas had given him, Rommath left alone.

Only Arthas and Sylvanas remained in the reception room. Sylvanas sorted through the shocking information she had just received, then asked Arthas, "Was everything you said true?"

"What would I gain by lying to you?" Arthas straightened his collar and said calmly, "You should have seen the trolls' resurgence yourself. In its current state, can Quel'Thalas really handle them alone?"

"Not with the Farstriders alone, at least." Sylvanas sounded deeply resigned.

"The orc invasion wasn't as simple as it appeared. It's tied to a number of enormous conspiracies. Telling you now would do nothing but give you more worries. All you need to know is that the Burning Legion is behind it."

After that conversation, neither felt much enthusiasm for the banquet. Arthas paused before continuing, "Let's deal with what's in front of us first. Even if the end of the world comes tomorrow, we still have to do the next right thing."

With that, Arthas made to leave the hall, but Sylvanas called him back. "Arthas, I said earlier that I wanted to thank you."

"I only did what I should have. You were injured then and no match for that fellow. Don't dwell on it." Arthas shrugged casually. "Besides, Kael'thas has already given me a gift."

"He probably gave you some precious materials or magical weapons. The Windrunner family may not be as wealthy as the Sunstrider family, but I think I still have something worth offering." Sylvanas took out a document and handed it to Arthas.

"What's this?"

"There's a small estate a kilometer or two from the Windrunner Estate. Didn't you say you wanted to build one yourself? I might as well give you one." Sylvanas chuckled. "It has its own small Teleportation Circle. I assume you can afford to hire someone to build another circle at your end?"

Arthas examined the deed and did not refuse it. "A seaside estate, with a large stretch of beach to boot. This is a gift I really can't turn down."

"Then we're neighbors from now on. Come visit when you have time. I know my way around the Southern Forest quite well, at least."

An estate meant little to Sylvanas. After all, she was the only member of the Windrunner family still living in Quel'Thalas, and maintaining an estate that produced no income was a considerable expense in itself.

After spending a few days sightseeing in Quel'Thalas, Arthas returned directly to Lordaeron's capital through the teleportation circle at the Windrunner Estate.

As he walked out of the Mage Tower, Arthas considered whether to go to Dalaran and hire a couple of mages to get his teleportation circle built first-Quel'Thalas's climate and scenery suited his tastes perfectly. Apart from the excessively high concentration of magic, everything there was wonderful.

Unfortunately, this was not yet the time to settle into a peaceful, comfortable estate. Arthas still had much to do, or those wonderful days might truly become the final days of his life.

His father, King Terenas, seemed to be receiving an envoy from another country, so Arthas returned alone to a training ground beside the palace gardens.

Arthas took out the Space Pouch Kael'thas had given him. After inspecting its contents, he could not help marveling at how absurdly wealthy the elves were.

"Mithril, truesilver, and thorium. Tsk, and they're all metal ingots smelted using ancient elven techniques." Arthas counted the precious metals. Intricate patterns covered the ingots, which gave off a faint magical glow. They were unmistakably elven craftsmanship.

By his estimate, these metals alone were worth no less than the estate Sylvanas had given him, to say nothing of the other materials and rare herbs.

Unfortunately, precious as these materials were, they would be of little immediate use to Arthas.

He did intend to forge a weapon of his own. Although his current warhammer, [Might of Menethil], had been commissioned from a master craftsman by Lordaeron's royal family and made from the finest materials available, channeling the Holy Light at full strength would still leave it irreversibly damaged.

After just a few all-out bursts, his warhammer would probably reach the end of its life.

There was actually a weapon in Tirisfal Glades that could withstand his intense Holy Light, but searching for it now would be little different from throwing his life away. That was no ordinary tomb, but the battlefield where two powerful beings of Azeroth had fought a fierce battle.

For now, Arthas could only make do with his current weapon. Fortunately, none of the enemies he presently faced required him to stake his life on a fight. His warhammer, which could be considered an epic weapon, was sufficient.

"I'll send these materials to Muradin in a while and have him forge me a new suit of armor."

Remembering his destroyed armor, Arthas settled on a use for the materials.