Arrival

The old mage knew this was madness. Medivh was dead, right before his eyes, and Lothar had been there too. What future could he possibly have? Yet he truly ought to thank Khadgar, because it was Khadgar who had helped him break free from the Dark Titan's control. And Sargeras had most likely been banished from Azeroth forever. It sounded like a dream. Khadgar felt that he had saved the world, yet he often felt sad for his mentor, Medivh. He still remembered being sent to Karazhan two years ago. The powerful Guardian had seen through his identity as a spy at a glance, yet Medivh had still taken him on as an apprentice. It had been an unexpected delight. Khadgar was sometimes proud of his title as the Guardian's apprentice.

Medivh's death was a tremendous loss to the entire world. Though he had done many terrible things to himself and others, Khadgar could not bring himself to hate Medivh, no matter what.

Khadgar was conflicted, his mind a mess. Did he feel gratitude, sorrow, pride, or anger toward Medivh? And besides his thoughts about Medivh, there was much else he needed to consider.

He opened his eyes and found Lothar looking at him with concern.

"It's all over," the warrior said.

Yes, it was all over. He had returned to Lordaeron now. Perhaps in a few days, he would return to Dalaran. That was his home. He had once thought that, under Medivh's guidance, he would become an archmage and then return to Lordaeron in glory. But now, dressed in rags and looking nothing like a mage, he was about to go to Lordaeron to discuss saving the world with others. It was truly dramatic.

"What are we going to do when we get to Lordaeron?"

"We'll go straight to see the King." Lothar glanced at the sleeping Varian. "I have never met King Terenas, and I cannot be sure whether he will help me, but he must know Varian. We must unite everyone to face the coming war together."

War? Nathanos's heart skipped a beat. A lot of people would die.

"What should we do?"

"I want to speak face-to-face with every ruler in this land. I believe King Terenas will summon them."

Summon every ruler? Nathanos found that rather amusing.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but did you just say you wanted to summon all the rulers?" Nathanos asked.

"Yes. Is there a problem?"

"Since I was born, I have never seen any country visit Lordaeron. It has always been King Terenas who visits other nations." Nathanos pointed northwest and added, "That place is called Gilneas. I once tried to enter the country, but I was driven away at the outpost."

Lothar's expression darkened. He asked Khadgar, "Are the relations between the countries here bad?"

"To be precise, they are terrible." Khadgar agreed with Nathanos. "Among the human kingdoms, Lordaeron is the strongest. With the support of Kul Tiras and Dalaran, it has always maintained its position as the dominant power. But Gilneas is also vast. It is the only nation capable of rivaling Lordaeron, and the relationship between the two countries does not seem harmonious."

"As long as they are not enemies of each other, that will do," Lothar replied, just as Nathanos had expected. "We must make them realize the threat. No single nation can stand against the powerful Horde alone. Stormwind City has already been destroyed. We cannot allow the other nations to repeat its fate. People must unite and fight together."

Khadgar seemed to see once more the Stormwind City general who had once ridden across the battlefield. He nodded. "I hope they will listen."

"They will."

I hope they do.

That was Nathanos's final thought. Though he had never seen the Horde Lothar spoke of, anything with the power to destroy a nation was certainly no simple threat. If the rulers could not reach an agreement, or turned a deaf ear, the consequences would be catastrophic. He did not continue talking with those in the carriage, and he made Stephan keep quiet as well, listening carefully. In short, the Horde would destroy everything here, just as it had done to Stormwind City.

Stormwind City. Its once-magnificent walls had become shattered ruins, and smoke filled the air. The city had fallen. A black figure stood atop a tower, savoring his victory as the devastation below lay spread out before his eyes. Sunlight shone through the clouds onto him. His skin gleamed green beneath the light, his long black hair was braided and swayed beside his resolute face, beastlike fangs protruded beneath his lips, and the black plate armor covering his body proclaimed his identity.

Orgrim Doomhammer. His legendary weapon rested on his back, a massive black iron hammer that needed only a single blow to send any enemy into the next world.

The Great Chief of the Horde let out a roar at the ruins of Stormwind City. It was a call to war and a cry of victory. The sound echoed through the gaps between the buildings. Below, his warriors—the Horde's warriors—who were searching the city for survivors heard his thunderous voice and raised their heads toward the figure who stood above all others. Orgrim roared again, and the orcs erupted into cheering cries. The entire Horde paid its leader the highest respect. This was the beginning of their conquest. They had done it under Orgrim's leadership.

At that moment, two muscular orcs carried a frail member of their kind on a stretcher behind Orgrim. The wrinkled face of this "little fellow" was hidden beneath a pitch-black cloak. He showed no sign of breathing, and everyone thought he was dead. But Orgrim knew he was alive, at least for now. The instant he was carried before Orgrim, everything seemed to reverse. The orc suddenly sucked in a breath. The long-missed air carried the scent of smoke and dust, but it was enough to wake him. The two muscular orcs carrying the stretcher immediately grabbed his arms and forced him to his knees before Orgrim before he could react. His dazed gaze gradually regained focus.

"What is this?" He was puzzled by his current situation. "Where am I?"

As soon as he spoke, a dark figure appeared before him. The direct sunlight kept him from seeing the other's face clearly.

"You... who are you?"

"You're awake, Gul'dan!"

Lordaeron

After several days of travel, Nathanos's carriage had arrived. Lothar looked at the silvery-white city walls and could not help but marvel. Lordaeron did not appear as sturdy as Stormwind City, but it embodied two words from within and without: noble and refined. That also worried Lothar. If the Horde came here, the wide plains would allow them to deploy their formation and launch a frontal assault.

"Follow me," Nathanos said to them.