Invincible

"This is impossible!" Nathanos tore Uther's letter and the latest Farstrider report to shreds in front of Alleria!

"Absolutely impossible!"

He roared, unable to believe it. Arthas had murdered his father, Lordaeron had fallen. Madness, everything had gone mad! Nathanos couldn't bear to think about it, absolutely couldn't believe that a powerful and wealthy nation had crumbled from within in less than half a month. Medivh's prophecy had always been etched in his mind; he had thought that if the Guardian was right, then the first place the apocalypse would fall would be Lordaeron. But what would this kingdom face? To destroy a nation, one needed at least a powerful army, and then conquest. Even so, Nathanos still believed in Lordaeron's military strength, especially since Dalaran and Kul Tiras would aid their allies besides the Order of the Silver Hand, so Lordaeron wouldn't be destroyed so quickly. But what was the result? The kingdom collapsed, and it was destroyed by Arthas.

Nathanos collapsed to the ground, burying his face in his hands as he replayed the events in his mind. He had known Arthas for so long and knew their personalities were very similar. Even though the latter had done many things he couldn't understand, even the most cruel ones. During his time in Quel'Thalas, Nathanos had gradually come to understand everything Arthas had done; he had always told himself that Arthas had acted in the best interests of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. But this time... this time he had utterly lost his humanity!

Alleria looked at her pale-faced lover, knelt before him, and held his hand, unable to find any words to comfort him.

The Ranger-General turned to his adjutant Lor'themar, and asked, "When did this happen?"

"We don't know, General. The news about Prince Arthas came back from Prince Kael'thas."

"Prince Kael'thas's information is unlikely to be wrong, and our scouts on the border have also reported that a large number of refugees from Lordaeron are flocking to Hearthglen and Darrowshire, as well as Haven County and New Avalon to the east. Some refugees are even trying to enter the forest to Quel'Thalas for refuge. I have already sent men to Silvermoon City to request His Majesty to accept those refugees."

"How could he do such a thing? How could he..." Nathanos grabbed Alleria's arm, his voice trembling so much he could barely speak.

"I know, I know." Alleria wrapped her arms around Nathanos's neck and hugged him tightly, comforting him. "I know that fallen Prince disappointed you, but you don't owe him anything, do you, Nathanos? You've done your best to help him. It's all his fault, it has nothing to do with you."

"I cannot stand idly by, Alleria."

The words that came out of Nathanos's mouth made the Female Elf feel uneasy. She opened her beautiful eyes wide and looked at Nathanos, and began to shake her head uncontrollably.

"No! You can't go, you can't go to him. He even killed his father..."

"I know, but I'm not going to him to get answers, Alleria. I'm going to stop him! If he really did kill King Terenas, he won't let anyone else get away with it. I have to go, Alleria!"

"Nathanos, I beg you, even for my sake... don't go. If you're worried about your family, I'll send Sylvanas to find them, and they'll be safe!" Her voice was so earnest that it swayed Nathanos's heart.

"I... I... I can't rest easy, Alleria." Nathanos's eyes were filled with tears, just like the Female Elf's. "What should I do?"

"Stay, my love," Alleria murmured, kissing his face. She was determined not to let him go, and if persuasion failed, she might even place him under house arrest. She would never let this man leave Quel'Thalas.

Nathanos closed his eyes. He didn't want to think of Arthas. How did Uther describe him in his letter? Yes, just one sentence—He abandoned the Holy Light, he's gone mad!

Fear jolted Nathanos awake. He remembered the dream, the sword, and Arthas's words—"Now we are the same."

"Same, same!" Nathanos clutched his head, pondering the meaning of those words. Did they mean he would also massacre a city? Would he also commit patricide? Impossible! If he were faced with an entire city infected, he would try to save them. If he couldn't, he would wait for them to be transformed before eliminating them. Nathanos was certain he couldn't bring himself to harm innocent people. The last time Jaina came to him, Nathanos asked the mage for a favor, wanting her to take his family away. Jaina agreed, and presumably his parents were already on the ship to Kalimdor, so he couldn't possibly have committed patricide. So what did Arthas mean by that?

"Don't think about it anymore, Nathanos." Alleria stroked his face, almost able to imagine what her beloved was worried about. No matter what had happened, Alleria firmly believed that she would continue to love him.

"Nathanos, you can't go to him. It's a trap. Arthas must have guessed you would go to him, and he must have made thorough preparations. Moreover, if he really does destroy Lordaeron, I believe that's not his only goal; he will..."

Nathanos wanted to throw himself into Alleria's arms, hold her tightly, and never leave her. He couldn't go, no! He couldn't go! If Arthas destroyed Lordaeron, who would be his next target? Dalaran? Gilneas? Or Quel'Thalas? Alleria needed him more than ever.

"I swore I would never leave you again, Alleria," Nathanos whispered. "I will always keep my promise."

"I hope this promise isn't the reason you'll stay with me, Nathanos." Alleria stared at him, her eyes wide.

"I understand, Alleria. The reason I stay by your side is that I don't want to leave you again."

The Female Elf smiled, revealing her happiest smile, finding the greatest comfort in the impending darkness.

"Come on, my love. It seems we are about to face a disaster before our wedding."

Nathanos, Uther, Terenas, Muradin —they knew nothing and could do nothing. At different times, they all told Arthas, with words or glances, that he was wrong.

Arriving at the ranch, Arthas slowed his pace. His men had already been there; now only stiff corpses remained: a man, a woman, and a young man of similar age. They had died quickly, which was fortunate.

And those pastures... they seem to have grown wildly this year. Arthas took a step closer, reaching out to touch a cluster of beautiful, pale blue-purple flowers with slender stems. He hesitated for a moment, then remembered the rose petals.

He didn't come to see the flowers.

Arthas turned and strode toward a grave, one he had forgotten how long ago it had been. Weeds covered the grave, but the markings on the tombstone were still clearly visible. He knew without looking who was buried there.

The Prince stood there for a long time, unable to forget the man in the tomb. Who could truly stand by him, offering only obedience and never opinion? Arthas was certain it was one of them!

'Awaken it!' Frostmourne whispered, just as he desired. Arthas stretched out one hand, grasping Frostmourne tightly in the other. A dark purple glow appeared around the outstretched hand, growing brighter and brighter. It coiled around like a serpent, rhythmically undulating, twisting, and spreading into the earth. Power connected with the skeleton beneath the ground. It pulled the long-dead steed from the cold earth.

"Rise!" he commanded, the words seeming to burst forth from the depths of his throat.

The grave burst open, scattering dirt everywhere. Legs, now just bones, kicked at the earth, hooves searching for a foothold, then the skull suddenly thrust upwards, breaking through the grave. A smile appeared on Arthas's deathly pale face.

"I witnessed your birth," he said, recalling the image of that wet new life wrapped in the amniotic sac. "I helped you come into this world, and now, through my hand, you are reborn."

The skeletal horse struggled and finally broke free, then braced itself on its forelegs to stand up. It raised its head and leaped, its eye sockets burning with eerie blue flames, and even though its flesh and blood had long since decayed, it could still let out a joyful neigh.

Arthas was overjoyed and reached out to the Undead horse, which neighed softly and nuzzled his palm with its bony nose. If it were still alive, it would have been terrified of him. But now, as a gleaming Undead, its bones had been bound together by Arthas using the power granted by the Lich King. Now the horse and rider were finally reunited, just as they had wished.

Yes, there's no mistake.

This is the evidence.

Frostmourne is still stained with the blood of his father. Death will spread across the lands he now rules, and great change is imminent.

The skeleton horse neighed.

Invincible!