After the War

I don't know how much time passed.

Nathanos released Alleria from his arms. As he turned over, debris and rubble fell from his body. The lingering gloom after the explosion made him cough violently twice. Then he heard his own echo. It was too quiet; the surroundings were deathly silent. Alleria struggled to her feet. She seemed alright; aside from her soiled clothes, she wasn't as covered in dust and dirt as Nathanos. The others gradually stood up, some still unconscious.

"Are you alright?" Nathanos asked Alleria, the Female Elf pulling him to his feet. She brushed the dust and pebbles off his hood. "Of course I'm fine, but you are." She stared at the wound on Nathanos's right forehead, blood trickling down to his throat. Alleria took out a handkerchief to wipe it, but the human's gaze was drawn in another direction. The Female Elf looked in that direction; the once towering stone gate was now shattered, only ruins remaining. The sky was overcast, a scene that could easily evoke images of the apocalypse, but none of the Alliance warriors who had risen to their feet thought that way, for they had won. With a shout, the deathly still surroundings erupted in cheers and jubilation, bringing smiles to the faces of all those who had endured hardship.

"Can the Orcs use it again?" he asked, looking up. Alleria smiled, relaxing deeply. "I don't think so."

"I hope so."

One month later

Nathanos stood on the hillside once more, gazing into the distance. Alleria was curious why he always preferred high places; perhaps it was to see further, or for some other reason. Unlike his usual scouting for enemy positions, this time Nathanos was looking down at the statues the Orcs were building—the statue of Lothar.

"This will be an impressive memorial statue," Alleria commented, hoping to draw Nathanos's attention away from her. And it worked; the human immediately turned to face her. A little over a month ago, Lothar had fought his final battle here. The environment was desolate and monotonous. Erupting lava glowed red in the shadows, while other areas consisted of black stones and hardened lava. Thick ash and smoke filled the sky, mountains stood tall, and Blackrock Spire lay not far from the statue.

"Turalyon didn't realize the value of Blackrock Spire." Nathanos didn't comment on the statue, but instead expressed his concern directly. "He ordered the entire army to withdraw from here."

"Lothar's sacrifice will forever be remembered as a symbol of loyalty and courage, even after the war is over or forgotten," Alleria said, standing beside him. She looked down at the Orcs being driven. If the war had been lost, the people moving the stones would likely be humans or Elf, and the statue would no longer be Lothar but Orgrim. Fortunately, it was all irreversible. "Turalyon abandoned this place perhaps because it was where Lothar fell, a place of sorrow. Besides..."

"Besides, the war is over?" It was a question. Alleria looked at Nathanos with a puzzled expression. Was the other person asking her what she was going to say next, or was he denying the meaning of her words?

"You don't think so?"

The human took a deep breath, trying to calm his anxiety. Yes, anxiety. Why was that? Nathanos himself didn't know. Even though everything was over, why did he feel tense? Was the victory too sudden, or Horde there still some remnants of the Horde here?

"I don't know." He uttered these two words with a tremor in his voice, surprising even himself. Alleria wanted to say something but couldn't, because she didn't know how to dispel Nathanos's worries. She could only hope that Nathanos's intuition was wrong, and perhaps Turalyon really should send some people to guard Blackrock Spire, that would put her at ease.

The statue being erected before Blackrock Spire — Anduin Lothar, Regent of Stormwind City, commander of the Alliance —raises his sword high in one hand and grips his shield in the other, gazing at the sky and shouting as if issuing a challenge. Clad in heavy armor, his strong face gazes outward, seemingly piercing through the valley; his eyes are stern yet kind.

The war is finally over.

This is true. The battle for the Dark Portal was the final battle. The surviving Orcs chose to surrender and became prisoners. No one knew what to do with them, and now they were being ordered to move materials to build the statue of Lothar. It was a cruel irony. After they finished their work here, they would probably be sent somewhere else to continue doing hard labor. Nathanos watched all this, and for a fleeting moment, he seemed to feel pity for these Orcs.

'Will all these people be killed and no Orcs will be freed?' he thought, growing increasingly uneasy. So many people! He glanced at Alleria and saw that the Female Elf was also looking at the Orcs.

Will the Alliance King spare them? Perhaps not. Some of these surrendered Orcs may still dream of rebuilding the Horde. This dangerous thought might cost them their lives.

The Blackhand Brothers have escaped, but they currently lack enough manpower to pose a significant threat, though it's possible they might in the future.

However, none of that was a concern right now. Nathanos took a deep breath; all he wanted now was to go home. The rest was perhaps irrelevant to him. Terenas and the other King would make the decision when the time came.

Three months later, Marius Farm

Nathanos returned to his home, where he depended on for survival, and to his parents. His father, Bred, was now a corporal, a low-ranking officer, but still had official duties to attend to. The war might have actually benefited the Marius family. Nathanos repeatedly recalled the events of the war, becoming increasingly convinced that any seemingly minor detail could have serious consequences. This was a lesson he had learned from the war, and it also reminded him of Alterac.

After the Kingdom of Lordaeron eliminated the threats within its territory, Terenas sent troops into Alterac, declared martial law, stripped the traitor Perenolde of his position, and imprisoned him.

'Alterac's fate remains uncertain.' Nathanos was baking bread. He was certain that the trouble this Snow Mountain Kingdom had brought to the Alliance was far from over; there was no doubt that Alterac's betrayal during the war had nearly torn the Alliance apart.

'But if this problem is solved, will the Alliance still exist?' Nathanos reached out and felt the heat emanating from the bread, making sure the temperature wasn't too high.

However, the Alliance would continue, and the remaining rulers unanimously elected Turalyon as their commander. He accepted the appointment, believing that Lothar would also want him to succeed him. His friend and mentor only wished to protect this land and its people, and Turalyon swore to everyone that he would fulfill this mission.

"Nathanos!"

It was his cousin Stephan. Nathanos was jolted out of his thoughts by the shout, but he wasn't angry. His experience of war had made him cherish his family more than ever before.

"The bread isn't ready yet, Stephan. Be quiet and go to the warehouse to get some more flour."

"I brought it."

Stephan stepped into the room, carrying a bag of flour. Nathanos was surprised; did he know what he was thinking?

"You'll have to make more," Stephan said with a grin, placing the flour on the counter. "We have guests tonight."

"Hmm?" Nathanos looked up; he could already smell the roses that didn't exist at Marius Farm. A pretty figure blocked the sunlight streaming in from outside. The person returned Nathanos's smile, pulled down their hood, and let their long, pale blonde hair cascade over their shoulders.

"The aroma of bread is almost seeping into the wood. It's been a long time, Nathanos," the other greeted softly, his final utterance of his name carrying a sweet, alluring quality.

Nathanos was momentarily stunned, then it took him a while to react, "Just... you alone? Your sister..."

"Shut up!"

This volume is finished. The next volume will be updated tomorrow.