Silver Arena (5)

"I'm glad to see you're still a Ranger, Veronalara. As Ranger, you should know the importance of discernment. Didn't Nathanos tell you not to show your emotions when others are trying to uncover your secrets?"

Veronalara immediately gestured for her to be quiet. "Please don't mention his name here. You can call him the Witherer."

"Alright," Sylvanas nodded. "The Witherer."

"He didn't teach me anything; the only thing he gave me was a place to stay."

Sylvanas nodded, then suddenly gripped Veronalara's hand and asked in the softest of voices, "Where is he?"

This time, it was the Female Elf's turn to be disappointed.

"I won't tell you. I can only tell you that he's not here, to avoid those who might recognize him, such as the King of the Alliance."

"Varian?" Sylvanas murmured. "I heard that when Alleria besieged Natha... the Witherer, SI:7 was also there."

"Yes. I witnessed it all! I can tell you very clearly that Aurelie made a terrible mistake. She broke the heart of the Witherer and created a terrible enemy for herself."

Sylvanas smiled, a satisfied smile, and released the Dark Ranger's hand. "That's not entirely true. But do you think he would? Would he seek revenge on Quel'Thalas?"

"He will only make the Regent regret it."

Veronalara's answer relieved Sylvanas. She had been worried that Nathanos's mind might become twisted due to the dark power within him over time, but seeing Veronalara and the Forsaken participating in the competition, she could finally rest assured.

Even the biggest conflict is still just a conflict, especially for Alleria and him. They have a child, a fact that cannot be denied, whether in life or in death. And this... is also what makes Sylvanas helpless.

"Alright, let's stop talking about Alleria. Tell me what he's been doing these past few years."

Veronalara was somewhat surprised by Sylvanas's blunt and direct approach to inquiring about information. She wouldn't forget, just because the Female Elf's tone had softened, that she wasn't one of the Forsaken. "How can I trust you, General?"

"You can trust me just because I won't tell anyone else the true identity of the Witherer."

The Dark Ranger looked at her with emotion, "If you had been with him back then, perhaps he wouldn't be the way he is today."

Sylvanas's lips twitched slightly, but she didn't respond to that remark. Instead, she listened attentively as Veronalara recounted the Forsaken's experiences over the years, from how the Forsaken were founded in Nathanos, to their arduous journey across the ocean to Kalimdor in search of a home, and up to the present day. The two didn't even notice that it was already late at night outside.

"When the Lich Gate incident occurred, I was gripped by deep fear. I felt that Forsaken had painstakingly built was about to collapse. Fortunately, Nathanos managed to stabilize the situation in time."

"He has indeed done a very good job. Up until now, Varian has believed that the Forsaken are just a bunch of small-time Undead, and his spies are all in Alterac."

Upon hearing this, Veronalara paused slightly, a faint hint of disdain appearing at the corner of her mouth. This was not directed at the Female Elf beside her, but rather at the King of the Alliance.

With just one map, one can compare the territories of Stormwind City and the Forsaken. If it weren't for their lack of military strength, the Forsaken wouldn't need to hide at all.

Time, the Forsaken still need time.

"Now that you know all the secrets of the Forsaken, what do you plan to do?"

"You don't need to tell Nathanos that I know everything. You just need to remember that I will never be an enemy of the Forsaken."

"Will you go to see him?"

Sylvanas was stumped by the question. If she hadn't known, she would have gone to Nathanos because she wanted to see him... but what good would it do to see him? She couldn't help him with anything except to say a few words from her heart and tell him that not everyone rejected him like Alleria did.

The Female Elf quickly shook her head; it was no use. Given Nathanos's personality, he probably didn't care about gaining the approval of the living anymore.

Thinking of this, Sylvanas said seriously, "I won't, at least not now. I will only go to see him when he decides to reveal his identity to the world. I... will wait, that goes without saying."

The church was unusually quiet, with only a handful of people scattered around. To Nathanos's surprise, however, these people were of different races and were seated separately. The Alliance sat on the left, the Horde on the right, and an aisle separated them.

At the end of the passageway stood a stone tablet with an open book on it. In front of the tablet, a woman wearing a tall hat and with dark yellow hair knelt on one knee, seemingly in meditation.

"You're very lucky," the boy who brought Nathanos said quietly. "Lady Paltress's trail hasn't even opened yet."

"It's a woman!" The Witherer stared in astonishment. Those who presided over the path were usually men, called priests, while women were called priestesses—a theoretical position. There were no priestesses in Lordaeron during its time, because women often lacked the resolve to Consecration their lives to the Holy Light.

"Interesting." Nathanos couldn't help but whisper to the boy, "Where should I sit?"

That is a problem. He belongs to neither the Alliance nor the Horde, and he is certain that if he were to take a side, he would incur the hatred of that side.

"There's no rule about it. They're just wishful thinking. You know, the Alliance and the Horde don't respect each other."

"They won't fight?"

"Any private brawl that occurs in the arena will be forcibly expelled; this is the rule of the Highlord."

The Witherer nodded in relief and silently moved to the far corner of Horde Horde's rear row. He had tried his best to avoid attracting their attention, but the Blood Elf closest to him still noticed him. The elf frowned, instinctively reaching for his waist, only to find he had no weapon. So, he whispered something to an Orcs sitting in front of him. Immediately afterward, Nathanos drew another pair of angry eyes, and soon everyone knew that an Undead had appeared in the church.

The priestess, who had been meditating for half a day, finally stood up, signifying the start of her sermon. As she turned, she was pleased to see people of various races listening to her walk. However, the figure in the corner made her heart skip a beat. Paltress had never imagined that Undead would come here. She could have reacted, but remembering the wisdom of Highlord Tirion, she restrained herself from letting her eyes betray any unease.

Her emotions fluctuated, and her reaction was naturally a beat slower. Paltress then regained her focus. "Thank you all for attending this Path of Light gathering. It's truly heartwarming to see so many familiar faces!" Her voice was a little hesitant at first, but it quickly became enthusiastic. "Today I want to talk about the three virtues of the Holy Light. For us, this has been a dark and difficult time. The Scourge is entrenched in the south. Those warriors who fell on the battlefield have instantly become the enemy's pawns."

"I sincerely hope that you have never experienced the pain of betrayal. But even if you have, you have persevered, and so must we. In this era, people should not be unfamiliar with the virtue of resilience. Faced with hatred and despair, we must still hold fast to our beliefs and continue to fight. Undoubtedly, you possess a resilient Will... but we cannot overlook other virtues."

"Above!"

Nathanos's focused listening was abruptly interrupted by the voice in his mind. This time he heard it more clearly; although it was the same voice as him, the tone was extremely anxious, as if some disaster was about to strike, but you were completely unprepared.

The Witherer looked up, but saw nothing but the wooden frame supporting the tent and the folds at the top.

Paltress also spoke of two other virtues: respect and compassion. It must be said that this priestess's linguistic skills were the most impressive Nathanos had ever seen; she spoke at length, yet not a single word seemed tedious. Some listeners even nodded in agreement.

"Once you feel and understand compassion that treats enemies and friends alike, you reaffirm your connection with the world. As long as we uphold these virtues and principles, this world will become the beautiful world that we all yearn for, a glorious and just world. Think carefully about my words, my friends. Darkness shrouds us, and we need the guidance of the Holy Light more than ever. If anyone wants to speak with me, I am waiting for you behind the screen in the confessional. I am happy to dispel your doubts, anxieties, and confusion."

Nathanos then noticed a screen placed in the corner of the church, which was the so-called "confessional." It seemed to be to protect the privacy of those speaking with the priests, or to avoid conflict—people from different factions could easily inadvertently damage each other's dignity when expressing their innermost thoughts.

The first to step forward were the humans from Stormwind City, while the Draenei, the races most devoted to the Holy Light, made no move.

The human was wearing Stormwind City armor, with scratches and chips on the edges of his leg guards, and small scars under his left eye and on his forehead.

He and the priest went behind the screen, their voices inaudible to those outside. Nathanos did not use his powers to eavesdrop on their conversation; his curiosity was not directed at trivial matters.

Less than three minutes later, the human emerged. The wrinkles between his brows were noticeably less pronounced, and his mood had eased; he was no longer as somber as before. The priestess appeared from behind the screen, a smile on her face, waiting for the next person who wished to speak with her alone.

Without using the power of the Holy Light? So, this priest can restore courage from despair with just words? This demonstrates an extremely high level of understanding of the Holy Light.

Following the humans, Orcs, Blood Elf, and other races also went, with the Gnome being the last. This time, Nathanos controlled a wisp of dark energy, bringing his consciousness behind the screen...

"I don't know if I have a chance. They're much bigger than me," the Gnome said, scratching his head in frustration. "I estimated my chances of winning, and they're incredibly low. How am I supposed to calculate how much charge the Hawkstrider is carrying while keeping my spear at the perfect angle and my shield in a position that provides optimal protection at all times? And... some of these mounts could crush me."

His consciousness returned, and Nathanos opened his eyes. Upon reflection, the spears and shields mandated by the Argent Crusade were indeed unfair to the weaker race from Gnomeregan. Their mechanical mounts might have also stopped due to a sudden loss of power during the battle.

But where is there absolute fairness?

Before long, the Gnome emerged with a smile. When Paltress reappeared from behind the screen, her gaze was fixed entirely on Nathanos.

"Huh?" The Witherer was taken aback. He looked around and realized that he was the only one who hadn't talked to the priest yet, and everyone else who had already talked to him had left.

So, he could leave now, but Paltress's eyes were very sincere at this moment. She wasn't unhappy about possibly talking to an Undead next; on the contrary, she seemed somewhat expectant. She would only be disappointed if Nathanos left without looking back.

Nathanos slowly turned his head toward Paltress, considering her gaze.

Let's listen to what she has to say.

The Witherer changed his position and sat in the first row of the church. As Paltress was puzzled by his behavior, he spoke up, "Priest, I originally wanted to leave like everyone else, but certain factors made me stay. Do you know what they are?"

"Because you, like them, need the help of the Holy Light," Paltress said with a smile. "Why don't we talk in the confessional?"

"I have no need for repentance." Nathanos stood up, and I approached the priest. "I have no need to protect any privacy. I only have three questions, and I would be grateful if anyone could give me a reasonable answer."

The priest took a deep breath, mentally prepared himself, and nodded solemnly.

"The first question is whether the Holy Light can bring comfort to people like me. There are many of my compatriots who still believe in the Holy Light, but they are turned to ashes when they come into contact with that thing."

Paltress's face darkened. It was common knowledge that the most lethal force against the Undead was the Holy Light; she had personally witnessed the light summoned by Paladin inflict unbearable agony on Undead. This was an indisputable fact, Paltress was surprised to find herself feeling a pang of heartache.

The first question stumped her. She wanted to answer, but Nathanos had already posed the second question, "If my first question troubled you or made you question your faith, then you don't need to answer it. Instead, listen to my second question, Your Excellency: If you had a family member who had died and become Forsaken, how would you view them? Could you accept them?"

"I had an older brother who fought alongside Uther in Andorhal against Arthas. He is dead, and I personally held his cremation. I cannot answer your question. I don't know how to face him, but I think I will..."

As soon as Paltress uttered these words, she realized she had lost her confidence; she simply couldn't accept it. Were people who became Undead still the innocent souls they were in life?

"The truth is no longer torment for me, priest." The Witherer ruthlessly exposed Paltress's lie. "I have family too." He laughed. "My brother betrayed me, my wife wants to send me to my grave... What could be more heartbreaking?"

"If you need sympathy, I can..."

"One last question: how do you think the Forsaken should exist in this world? I mean, if the Lich King is defeated, and the Forsaken and the living lose their common enemy, how will you treat us?"

When the topic of the post-war period came up, Paltress became noticeably more excited. She said, "You can live like normal people and build your own homes."

"Normal people? Eating or sleeping?" Nathanos couldn't help but let out a cold laugh. "I've forgotten the taste of delicious food and the wonder of dreams. As for home... do you think the Alliance and the Horde, or even the Argent Crusade, will let us move freely?"

"They will save you. I don't know about the others, but Highlord Tirion Fordring will find a way to turn you back to normal."

What an innocent girl. Nathanos thought to himself, death was irreversible, and he had failed many times before.

"Before that, will they build a fortress and lock us up? Just like the Orcs did?"

Paltress was speechless.

"Or, they might as well wipe us out all at once and be done with it. That's what the Alliance and the Horde are thinking."

"The Holy Light ..." The priest's face turned pale. "The Holy Light will bless you."

"Yes, it will witness the rise and rebellion of the Forsaken. All those who stand in our way... shall die!"