A grim outlook

Arthas, the fallen prince who murdered his king and father, the culprit who destroyed the Sunwell, the monster who turned all of Lordaeron into a paradise for the undead, and the bearer of that infamous name that made every living soul tremble-

The Lich King!

Yes, that was the path Arthas was originally meant to follow. His final fate, too, was to be slain in Icecrown Citadel in the northern land of Northrend by Tirion Fordring, one of the first Paladins, wielding the Ashbringer.

Thus ended the fallen prince's life, while Arthas's crimes would remain forever etched into Azeroth's history.

Just thinking about it all gave Arthas a splitting headache. He was indeed Arthas of Lordaeron, but in a certain sense, he was not Arthas at all.

When he was born and first opened his eyes, he could not yet understand what the adults around him were saying. A man wearing a crown picked him up, and then he heard a familiar name.

"Arthas!"

Arthas had been born in the royal palace of Lordaeron, but some of his thoughts and memories came from an unknown source. All he knew was that he clearly remembered a stretch of life in another world.

This was one of the two secrets Arthas kept. No one but him knew about it. Yet he still lived every day on guard, exercising constant caution-not because Lordaeron's royal palace was unsafe, but because his very identity was dangerous.

Being a prince brought Arthas no sense of security. If anything, it only heightened his sense of impending danger.

The planet he had been born on was called Azeroth. In ancient times, it had possessed only a single continent: Kalimdor.

The name meant "land of eternal starlight," but after a world-shattering cataclysm, Ancient Kalimdor had broken into several pieces. The two largest were now called Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms, and Arthas was the prince of the most powerful human kingdom on the Eastern Kingdoms continent.

It all sounded wonderful, but nothing could have been further from the truth. In the eyes of Arthas, a partial outsider, this planet's fate was hopeless beyond all hope.

The bodies of their supreme gods, the Titans, had long since perished. Only their souls remained, imprisoned and tormented by the fallen Titan Sargeras's Burning Legion. That fallen Titan god never stopped plotting Azeroth's destruction.

He could not descend upon Azeroth yet, but that did not mean he would never be able to. Arthas knew that within twenty or thirty years, the Burning Legion and its master would come, sooner or later.

Beyond the Burning Legion's endless demons, Azeroth itself was not safe either. Sealed within the planet were the Old Gods, beings just as terrifying and impossible for mortals to overcome.

These evil gods clung like maggots to bone. The keepers and seals left behind by the Titans had long since been riddled with their corruption. If anything went wrong, the Old Gods alone could wipe out every living creature on Azeroth and turn it into their divine realm on earth.

With all their mighty backers finished and their home beset by threats from within and without, this should, in theory, have been the moment for some chosen one to appear, defy fate, master an ultimate art, and defeat every powerful enemy.

Unfortunately, although Azeroth had a fairly well-developed system of supernatural power, mortals remained mortals-in terms of their intrinsic standing. Never mind them; even Azeroth's demigods were merely slightly larger ants to the Old Gods and the Burning Legion.

Worse still, of the five Dragon Aspects who had inherited the powers and duties of the Titan Keepers, one had already gone completely mad, while the Aspect of the Blue was mentally unstable. The remaining three largely stayed out of worldly affairs. They would probably only act once the Burning Legion came knocking or the threat of the Old Gods was right upon them.

And the greatest, most absurd threat Arthas currently feared came from one of those five Dragon Aspects-the Bronze Dragon Aspect, Nozdormu.

The Dragon Aspect who guarded Azeroth's timeline was utterly obsessive about the so-called correct course of history. If he or the Bronze Dragonflight under his command discovered Arthas, they would not wait for anyone else to act. They would wipe out this "abnormal" prince themselves.

That was why Arthas had spent these nineteen years treading carefully, trying not to do too many things that diverged from what Arthas was supposed to experience. Even so, he knew he was probably just deceiving himself.

He was certain he could never follow the path of corruption, which meant the bronze dragons would discover him sooner or later. Given their methods, they would most likely find a point in time when he had begun behaving abnormally but was still relatively weak, then either wipe him out or erase his memories. Arthas could accept neither outcome.

Yet in nineteen years, Arthas had not seen so much as a toy dinosaur, let alone a bronze dragon. He began to wonder whether the bronze dragon responsible for his timeline had slacked off and fallen asleep.

Fortunately, Arthas himself was already quite powerful. He was confident he could handle an ordinary bronze dragon, but if an ancient dragon from Nozdormu's generation showed up, he would probably still be done for.

Arthas did intend to keep the truth hidden for as long as possible, but he was not the sort to sit around waiting to die or hoping someone else would save him. For all his talk of having done nothing, he had actually made all manner of plans for what lay ahead.

The first step was gaining the ability to protect himself. Now that he had become a fully fledged Paladin, the various projects Arthas had spent so long preparing could finally be put into motion.

Arthas wanted more than merely to scrape through the coming disasters alive. He hoped to accomplish more, such as making Lordaeron mighty again.

Although Lordaeron had remained the strongest human kingdom throughout these years, against the enemies Arthas envisioned, it would at best fall a day later than the other kingdoms.

King Terenas was getting on in years. Compared with the wisdom and decisiveness he had shown over a decade ago, the old king's judgment and political skill had declined far too much. Only in the council and in diplomacy did he remain as domineering and forceful as ever.

Combined with the scars left by the war against the orcs and the burden of building and maintaining large numbers of orc internment camps afterward, it was already remarkable that Lordaeron had managed to keep its strength from declining in recent years.

Even that was thanks to Arthas overseeing many important affairs. Perhaps this was the best thing about King Terenas in his later years-his growing trust in his son.

Although that trust had ultimately consigned him and his entire kingdom to the abyss in the original course of fate, everything was different now. Arthas had steadied Lordaeron as it gradually slid toward collapse. Once he resolved the enormous burden imposed by the orc internment camps, it would only be a matter of time before Lordaeron became stronger than ever.

This was a crucial part of his plan. Controlling a human kingdom, or even the Alliance across the entire Eastern Kingdoms continent, would greatly benefit the plans that followed.

As for the orcs, Arthas did not care about them at all. Perhaps, under the new leader who would soon emerge among them, they could become useful cannon fodder against the Burning Legion?

As Arthas sat upright at the banquet, the picture in his mind grew increasingly clear-resolving the orc problem would become a stepping stone toward building his own strength.