Anonymous

The Crusaders were led by several leaders simultaneously. Hearthglen had two thousand troops stationed there, while Tyr's Hand and Haven County had tens of thousands.

In this army, the selection of leaders was not solely based on their wartime ranks, but more importantly on their dedication to the cause. Those who did not fervently desire the destruction of the Undead were almost certain to attain high ranks. Many veterans who had previously fought against the Undead were promoted. Any dissatisfaction with the current rank system was attributed to Undead infiltration, as the Crusaders could not comprehend how a rational human could harbor resentment towards the cause of eliminating the Undead. Anyone expressing such dissent was considered an Undead and even condemned as a fanatical advocate of the Undead.

For this reason, in the eyes of many, the Crimson Crusade is a pure organization, with all its members wholeheartedly fighting for a common purpose.

Larein and Kasha had thought so before, but now they were beginning to shudder at the Crusaders robes they wore. The Cathedral of Light in Hearthglen was no longer a place for devout believers to pray to the Holy Light; it was more like an execution ground. The word "outsider" originated there. High Inquisitor Isilien had already executed several who questioned the Crusaders ideals.

"I'm going crazy, Larein. Maybe we should talk to Lord Maxwell; he's one of the few people who's still relatively clear-headed."

Larein tossed a piece of wood into the fireplace. "I understand what you're thinking, Kasha. But don't forget what happened to Tirion Fordring."

"Should we just parrot what others say? Should Lord Tirion be exiled simply because he followed his own conscience? Should those who question the Crusaders' mistreatment of other races be put to death?"

"I just want to protect you, Kasha." Larein looked at the girl beside him with excitement, but he still didn't dare to shout.

"I don't want to live like this. If I continue down the path of the Crusaders, I'm afraid I'll lose the favor of the Holy Light. Aren't you afraid?"

The Paladin fell silent. The firelight illuminated the dark red-covered book on the bookshelf, "Humanity: Vessels of the Holy Light." Larein had read this book, written by Isilien, with fear. Its contents were filled with racism and blind worship of the Holy Light.

"I'm scared, Kasha. So... let's run away!"

Kasha's eyes seemed to light up as she looked at Larein. "Really? But... why did you change so quickly?"

"Nothing?" Larein shook his head. "I was just thinking about our friend, Nathanos. I haven't heard from him in a long time. Ever since he went to Quel'Thalas ..."

He didn't continue, Kasha knew that what he originally wanted to say was: not long after he went to Quel'Thalas, Arthas conquered the Elf kingdom.

"May the Holy Light bless him. I hope we can meet again."

"Alright! I've ruined the atmosphere again." Larein looked apologetic.

Kasha smiled back at him. "Perhaps we should think about where to go after we leave here. I think following Lord Maxwell is a good idea, but do you have any better suggestions?"

"Stormwind City!" the Paladin said. "We should go to Stormwind City. Now, only Kul Tiras and Stormwind City remain untouched by the Undead in the Alliance. We have no ships, so we can only hope to travel south by trekking through mountains and rivers."

"Too far!" Kasha initially wanted to object, but when she met Larein's gaze, she felt her companion's confidence, which gave her strength.

"Okay, but we have to prepare in advance."

Larein nodded slowly. It was time to prepare properly. They needed to avoid the sight of their Crusaders comrades; find the fastest route to the south; and try to avoid the attacks of the Undead.

Stormwind City, this ancient and majestic human city, was ravaged by war and sacked by the Orcs. In the end, the Alliance repelled the invasion and reclaimed the lost territory.

Everything is returning to normal, everything is on the right track. Stormwind City resumed maritime trade several years ago.

"Harf!"

"What's wrong, Stephan?"

"You seem to have told me that there's a third force within Stormwind City dedicated to maintaining peace." Nathanos's cousin, Stephan, was standing on a transport ship bound for the city of Kouzhong. He had made a new friend named Harf, a young soldier who had participated in the Battle of Mount Hyjal.

"Yes, it's an assassin organization. Those who know about it call it SI:7."

Stephan's expression began to become complicated. The assassins he knew from his experience were evil people who broke the law by their own will or the Will of others, but it was clear that SI:7 of Harf was different.

"I've been to many places, but... it seems that only Stormwind City has an official assassin organization."

"Some thorny issues cannot be handled under the principle of the Holy Light, so an organization like SI:7 is needed."

Stephan couldn't understand the logic behind this. To help him, Harf gave an example.

"What would you do if your cousin became the embodiment of evil?"

"That's impossible!" Stephan retorted, fixing his gaze on the sea to hide the rising anger in Harf's eyes. Nathanos was not only family, but also his most admired person. Whenever someone asked him about his cousin's heroic deeds, he would talk for hours on end.

"I'm talking about 'if,' 'if'! Do you understand?"

"I don't know," Stephan replied irritably. He genuinely didn't know what to do. Who would even think about such a question?

"Do you want to persuade him through the doctrines of the Holy Light?"

"Maybe." Stephan nodded. He could already see Stormwind City's port, but why wasn't the ship moving faster? That way he could end the conversation sooner.

"So, do you think this is feasible?"

Stephan had reminded himself not to concern himself with Harf's situation, but he couldn't help thinking about it. He didn't believe he could change Nathanos, and his cousin didn't revere the Holy Light like the others. If he truly became an evil being, the Holy Light probably couldn't save him.

"No." Stephan turned to look at Harf, his hidden anger vanishing.

"Since we can't reform him, we have no choice but to eliminate him, right? But your cousin is a hero of Second War. If news of his fall from grace spreads, it will undoubtedly be a huge blow to people, like you. In that case, we must resort to extraordinary measures."

"So... assassination is an extreme measure?"

'If I become Undead, I'd rather end it all myself than let anyone else see my twisted form.'

The Female Elf's words and Female Elf constantly shifted his emotions between pain and joy. Alleria wouldn't want to see him like this, but she was pregnant. Nathanos was filled with hope whenever he thought of this; otherwise, he would have already built a coffin and buried himself.

After leaving Quel'Thalas, Nathanos passed by Marius Farm, but instead of stopping, he continued west, bypassing Andorhal, towards the southernmost tip of the land. Upon returning to Lordaeron, Nathanos investigated and found that Uther's grave was located in Hills of Regret to the south. He wondered why those who collected Uther's body would bury him there. Was the name of this place meant to remind those who killed Uther of their sins and to repent for their transgressions, or was it a satire of Uther having taught a student like Arthas?

Because of the human army in Hearthglen, the Scourge has not yet been able to completely conquer the entire eastern part of Silverpine Forest. But for Nathanos, both the Undead and the living are now his enemies.

Nathanos avoided unnecessary battles along the way, evading the human soldiers clad in crimson armor. Their patrols were several times more frequent than those of the usual Silver Hand knights. This "enthusiasm" wasted a considerable amount of Nathanos's time.

"This is it!" Nathanos looked up at the graves on the slope. Many other tombstones surrounded the graves, those of those who had perished resisting the Undead of the dead. The cemetery wasn't particularly grand, and the white stone pillars weren't elaborately carved. In the very center, there was no sign of anyone having come to pay their respects. The only sign that this was Uther's final resting place was the statue of him.

Nathanos hadn't seen Uther in a long time. Though merely a motionless statue, he still looked as solemn as ever, a book in his left hand and his warhammer in his right. He gazed upwards, constantly monitoring any potential threats to Lordaeron.

"Long time no see, Master," Nathanos said to the statue. He crouched down and meditated for a while. Then, as he prepared to leave, he realized there was no plaque. He searched for a long time, but indeed, there was none.

Uther was a highly respected elder and a hero who guarded the kingdom. It was one thing for his tomb to be shabby, but how could it not even have a plaque?

"Let me do something for you."

Nathanos found a small, square stone tablet that was easy to carve, placed it beneath the statue, and then used his small knife to carve out the words:

Uther, the Lightbringer, rests here.

The first Paladin, the founder of the Order of the Silver Hand.

Uther swore to defend the Kingdom of Lordaeron to the death, and though his most beloved student betrayed him, we believe his soul lives on. Even as misfortune befell our homeland, he still watches over us. His light will illuminate the path of all humanity—it will never fade as long as we continue to follow his example.

Nathanos originally intended to carve his name beneath these words, but when he saw the skin on his hands, he wavered.

Are we to let an Undead evaluate the Lightbringer?

"I'm no longer worthy to stand beside you, mentor. I... I truly envy you!"

He carved the last three words with his knife: Anonymous!