Vanguard Port

Meryl told me that, in retrospect, the time when the Forsaken created their home was as beautiful as early summer in the grand scheme of history. The Forsaken had everything they needed: a pleasant base, guiding leaders, and the Forsaken laws that slowly began to take shape and eventually came to be perfect.

We have abundant resources, powerful but not invincible enemies, and are unknown to the world. Even those who are not members of the Forsaken are not enemies. If we ask, we can always find people to share their knowledge and wealth with us; it is often the Forsaken hold back.

During our conversation, Meryl inadvertently asked a question: When exactly are you going to let the Forsaken emerge from the shadows?

I didn't answer at the time because I hadn't thought the question through myself. I thought that when the Forsaken become powerful enough to rival the Alliance and the Horde, what would be the point? That would be so long ago; the Lich King would surely have been destroyed by then.

I tried to rethink the answer, but life is beyond my control; unexpected events always occur, catching me off guard. Perhaps I underestimated Arthas, or perhaps the Lich King's strength wasn't solely due to his power, but also to his cunning and treachery. He also taught me: hatred is powerful. Hatred can be endless. Hatred can be manipulated and exploited.

Similarly, hatred can be created.

Night, Vanguard Port

General Abidis was writing a letter, preparing to send it to New Hearthglen. She hadn't received any news from the Crusaders rear bases for many days, and a sense of unease crept into her heart. She began to wonder if the last time she saw New Hearthglen was the last time she would see it.

The doors to the church were flung open, and the soldier standing in the doorway swayed slightly, one hand clutching tightly to his side. Two guards stood behind him, seemingly more concerned about the unauthorized entry into the Scarlet Cathedral than about his injuries.

Abidis immediately stood up and saw blood dripping incessantly from the soldier's fingers, soon forming a puddle on the ground. The Blood General rose and hurried towards him, urgently saying, "Enemy attack! The Undead fleet is approaching from the east and will arrive here in a few hours."

"How did you know?" Abidis asked skeptically. She hadn't heard any gunfire, which meant the attack the soldiers were talking about might not have started yet, and the injuries he sustained were indeed true.

"I was a crew member who went out on patrol this evening. We were attacked by the Undead about ten miles from the port. They sneaked onto our ship and killed all the crew members except me. I escaped by jumping into the lifeboat at the cost of my life." As the soldier spoke, his body began to tremble, and the seawater on his body had frozen into ice.

"Take him down to heal his wounds. Sound the alarm and launch a full-scale defense of the eastern sea area. Also, have Archbishop Landre and Admiral Barry Westwyn prepare for battle." After arranging everything, Abidis suddenly thought of a question. The cruiser the soldier was on was ten miles away. He had desperately swum back in a lifeboat, but why? How was he able to return in time to report the incident? Had the Undead not made any moves at all during that time?

Abidis shook his head. The Undead are a bunch of mindless creatures, so it's normal for them to do some strange things. Since they've come, let's make sure they don't leave alive.

"Master, Abidis has dispatched all his warships and Gryphon Rider to provide full defense of the eastern part of the Vanguard Port," Belmont reported.

Nathanos's gaze lingered between himself and the sea, then he nodded. "It seems the Blood General has no doubts about his abilities." That one sentence was enough. The other members of the Forsaken nodded in agreement. Abidis had overestimated himself and underestimated them.

"Considering the time..." Nathanos said, "Tatsel and Nathos should be ready by now."

"That should be the case, barring any unforeseen circumstances."

The Witherer took out his pocket watch, set it to time, and ordered, "Tell everyone to attack in one hour."

"Draw your weapons," Abidis commanded. In the eerie silence, the sharp sound of blades being drawn was exceptionally clear. The Warrior tensed, like arrows on a bowstring. Time ticked by, the only sounds the screeching of seabirds, the crashing waves, and the creaking of their armor as they moved uneasily.

The silence was finally shattered by a deafening battle roar, a sound powerful enough to freeze blood and send chills down one's spine. The war drums sounded again, now closer and more frenzied. From the shadows of the sea mist, seven or eight ships emerged. The howling emanated from those ships, a sound that instilled disgust in all who heard it.

"All cannons, fire!" the general shouted. The ships in the harbor and the cannons on the city walls seemed to hear Abidis's voice and began firing shells at the mist.

A deafening roar ripped through the sky as the Crusaders watched the Undead ships explode under the cannon fire. The sea breeze carried the smell of burning debris, seemingly a sign of their victory. But Abidis soon sensed something was amiss. The ships seemed motionless, offering no real resistance, simply standing there passively under the barrage of fire, as if...attracting attention.

A horn sounded. The sound was ethereal and lingering, like a melody, clearly not from the Crusaders —it was the enemy's horn. All the blood-red generals engaged in battle turned sharply and fled towards the undefended western side of the port. When Abidis rushed over, she found they had no time to deploy defenses.

The enemy is formidable, Abidis had to admit.

"General, there are also Undead ships to the north... to the north."

"What!" Abidis turned sharply to look at the soldier reporting the military situation. The sound of artillery fire had already disrupted her hearing, making her feel dizzy.

Now, they are completely surrounded...

Nathanos leaped from the deck. The surrounding Crusaders ships were ablaze. The corpses strewn across the ground foreshadowed their impending victory.

Although it appeared chaotic, everything was proceeding according to plan. Just as the Witherer had anticipated, they chose to attack from three sides simultaneously, with the ships from the east merely serving as bait to draw the Crusaders' attention.

"What about Abidis?" Nathanos asked.

"I saw her at the entrance of that cathedral," a soldier reported.

"Charge!"

Dozens of Forsaken Terror Guard escorted their master toward the cathedral. They stood close together, raising their shields to deflect incoming arrows.

When the time was right, Nathanos pushed aside the guards blocking his way.

Although slowed slightly by his heavy sword, his speed was still terrifying. Abidis also saw the Undead and believed him to be the leader of the Undead. She was already quite agile, and her weapon was much lighter than others, but even so, her small axe only managed to hit air. The Undead were here one moment and elsewhere the next, breaking through her defenses time and time again. She had been hit more than once; fortunately, her heavy armor saved her, but if the Undead's sword were to slice through the gaps in the armor between her arm and torso...

Abidis raised the shield in his left hand above his head as if to attack, then swung his other hand down with a sudden chop. The Undead dodged to the side, but was still struck in the arm. He groaned.

"Ha!" Abidis laughed contemptuously. "You're dead, you filthy creature."

An unbelievable thing happened: Nathanos suddenly leaped up and pounced on her. Abidis quickly raised her shield to protect herself, but to her shock, the Undead ignored the wound on his arm and stepped directly onto the shield, using it as a foothold. At the same time, his sword thrust downwards towards the Blood General's neck.

At that moment, Abidis opened her eyes wide, utterly bewildered. For some reason, her inner cries for the Holy Light went unanswered... She never understood it until her death.

Sulfuras's blade swiftly and cleanly slashed through Abidis's neck. The blood flowed onto the red banner of Lordaeron, appearing even more vibrant.