Lord of Demons

The biting wind whipped Arthas's white hair, then soothed his face, and the Death Knight smiled. It felt good to be back in the cold. The eternal summer of the Elf lands, filled with the fragrance of flowers and vibrant life, made him feel uncomfortable. He preferred this place; the wind and snow cleansed him.

The soldiers thronged around him as he walked through the snow-covered road; they never seemed to tire or fear the cold.

Standing amidst the vast, seemingly endless army was a man unharmed. The Lich King told Arthas that Nathanos was ready. This was good news, but he was now more interested in Kel'Thuzad, who floated beside the Death Knight. It was Kel'Thuzad who had ordered the Scourge to this desolate, icy wasteland, and so far Arthas had not objected. The Lich had promised to tell him the truth, but only to him.

"I remember you."

Nathanos watched from afar as Arthas and Kel'Thuzad, perched on the cliff edge, conversed. The Lich's mouth opened and closed, exhaling white breath, making it impossible to discern whether he was speaking. Arthas had his back to Nathanos, so Nathanos received no information from their conversation. He tried his best to listen, but someone interrupted him. It was a Female Elf, also an Undead. She appeared surprised and pained when she saw Nathanos.

"Who are you?" Nathanos narrowed his blood-red eyes, wary of the approaching figure.

"Veronalara," she replied, the pain intensifying. The name seemed to evoke memories that brought her the Lich King's punishment. She had intended to continue telling Nathanos that she was the Ranger-Captain of Silvermoon City.

Nathanos was surprised. He frowned, sensing something in his memory quietly dormant.

"Have you become like this too?" Veronalara's voice carried a hint of sorrow.

Nathanos felt even more uncomfortable. It was a rhetorical question. Hearing it from the Female Elf's mouth sounded sarcastic. Nathanos had never liked being manipulated, and he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with this change.

"Are you pitying me?"

"I feel sorry for Alleria!"

Her words pierced Nathanos's no-beating heart like a sword, yet he could still feel the pain. This agony contorted his face.

Alleria? The name sounded familiar, and he realized it was important to him.

"Who is she?"

"You don't remember? How pathetic."

Nathanos fell into deep thought, once again trying to retrieve his past memories. This tormented him. But soon he felt whispers again, a voice that soothed his pain like a balm. However, Veronalara wailed; the Lich King was punishing her.

"What do you know?" he asked, staring at Veronalara lying on the ground. "Alleria, who is she? Tell me what happened."

'Your past!'

Since he couldn't see the Lich King, Nathanos couldn't read his expression, but from his voice, the other man sounded somewhat displeased.

Unable to get a definite answer, Nathanos suddenly felt a vague pang in his heart, but the feeling was quickly dispelled.

"I...I have nothing to tell you, Nathanos."

Nathanos's eyelid twitched. Veronalara's eyes were lifeless as she retreated, her gaze vacant.

Next, Arthas issued an order: they would attack an Orcs Horde. The objective was to seize a Dark Portal in the snowy mountains. Humans, Elf, and now Orcs. Nathanos sensed they were at odds with the entire world.

Things had gone beyond his expectations, Arthas demanded that he join the battle. Nathanos then carried out his first kill since his rebirth.

The Orcs fought bravely, but in vain; all their efforts to stop the Scourge were futile. He stared at the Dark Portal for a long time. Fragmented memories surfaced; it seemed he had faced a Dark Portal like this long ago. But on this scale, it was insignificant. He did not approach the Dark Portal; only Arthas and Kel'Thuzad stood before it.

"Those filthy beasts are all dead," Arthas spat. "The Demon Gate is yours, Lich."

The skeleton floated forward excitedly, earnestly raising its arms in utmost respect—or rather, extreme fear of being harmed.

"I call upon you, Archimonde! Your humble servant begs your voice!"

The green mist continued to swirl. Then, Nathanos, positioned in the rear, began to take shape, followed by facial features. His skin appeared bluish-gray, still somewhat ethereal. However, there was no doubt that this demon's body was incredibly strong, with thick, powerful arms and legs like a goat's—not feet, but a pair of forked hooves. A tail seemed to be deliberately twitching behind him. His arms, shoulders, and legs were covered in gold. A pair of fleshy whiskers wriggled on his chin. His eyes, gleaming with green light, were striking.

"You summoned me, you insignificant Lich, and now I have come," the demon said, his voice deep and resonant, as if the mountains trembled. "You are Kel'Thuzad, are you?"

The Lich lowered his head. "Yes, my lord. It was I who called upon you. I beg you to tell me how I can bring you into this world."

"You must find a special book," Archimonde explained. "It is the only spellbook left behind by the Guardian Medivh. Only the lost spells within it are enough to bring me into your world. Go to the mortal city of Dalaran; the book is there. Begin the summoning ritual at sunset three days from now."

The image vanished. Nathanos stared at the spot where it had been, unable to look away for a long time.

Dalaran? Where Jaina Proudmoore studied magic? She might still be there. Nathanos recalled a series of events, the name flashing through his mind, and suddenly a painful spark pierced his heart. He wondered why he was worried that Jaina might still be in Dalaran.

"Dalaran has the most powerful mages in Azeroth," Nathanos began slowly, unsure of who he was speaking to; he simply wanted to point it out. "They will be prepared."

"Like Quel'Thalas?" Kel'Thuzad scoffed, letting out a hollow laugh. "Think of how utterly vulnerable you are before our armies, Nathanos. Besides, I was once a member of the Kirin Tor, and I know Antonidas. I know their protective spells, and I know where they falter. It will be wonderful to see those short-sighted mages tremble with fear at the thought of me escaping my past fate. We cannot fail, the Scourge cannot fail."

Nathanos's gaze fell.

Arthas noticed this, "You don't seem too keen on going to Dalaran."

"There are people I don't want to see there," Nathanos said, almost clutching his head, as if something was lingering in his memory.

Someone you don't want to see? The Death Knight pondered this answer. Was it someone you hated?

Frostmourne flashed with a cold light as the Lich King issued his command. Arthas listened, somewhat surprised, for this command was not addressed to him.

"Nathanos, the Lich King commands you... to go to Kalimdor!"