Icecrown Citadel (V)

Seeing a group of people charging towards him, Scourgelord Tyrannus leaped from his mount to the ground and roared, "Frostfang, repel them!"

Frostfang unleashed a frost breath in a straight line, causing those Charge to dodge to the left and right to avoid injury. Scourgelord Tyrannus seized the opportunity to summon his last servants—corpses hidden in the ice tunnels.

The Witherer felt a dark power flowing from the Scourge Lord's fingertips, passing beneath his feet and into the depths of the tunnel. Soon he heard the sound of steel clashing in the tunnel behind him.

"Everyone, block the Undead behind you!" Then he turned to look at Scourgelord Tyrannus. "I'll personally send him to hell!"

A whirlwind began to surge on the platform before the entrance to the Hall of Reflection, tearing away the surface of the ground. Battle instinct and muscle memory guided Nathanos's arm. As he faced the Scourge Lord, the sheathed Greatsword was already in his hand.

"You are nothing but a pawn of the Lich King," he said.

"And what about you? Aren't you one too?" Scourgelord Tyrannus's voice was laced with sarcasm.

Doubt pierced him, seeping into the very marrow of his memory. He trembled, vaguely recalling the scene. Invincible charged towards him, raising a cloud of Frostmourne pierced him with pinpoint accuracy.

Nathanos parried Scourgelord Tyrannus's attack, a sharp pain welling up inside her, flowing through her entire body, until it reached her hands that gripped the sword, which she held tightly to the hilt.

"What do you think I am?" Nathanos asked.

"Ha, you can feel Frostmourne, can't you? You can feel its call, can't you? Your soul and that sword have never been separated!"

The flames of rage instantly intensified, burning within Nathanos's heart. Scourgelord Tyrannus was kicked away; the poison had taken effect, but Nathanos now desired to kill him with his sword!

"I know you." Scourgelord Tyrannus struggled to defend himself, but his words only strengthened Nathanos's resolve to destroy him. "My master has mentioned you more than once! A hero of the Second War, a participant in Operation Grim Batol, and you even wounded my master's mount..."

The Scourge Lord staggered back a few steps after taking a punch to the right cheek from the Witherer, barely able to stand, but he could still speak, "How does it feel to kill your own mother?"

Immediately following, another kick to the chest sent Scourgelord Tyrannus sprawling to the ground, his weapon flying. Nathanos swung wildly at him, each attack and thrust accompanied by a roar and explosion of air. The Scourge Lord summoned a barrier to block his sorrow and rage, which only fueled his fury.

"When you hold your woman in your arms, she smells incredibly sweet, but now she loathes you!"

For years, Nathanos couldn't accept what had happened at Marius Farm. He could only be thankful that he was dead; dead, he wouldn't dream anymore, and the nightmares of those memories wouldn't haunt him.

Now, Scourgelord Tyrannus was using this incident to mock him. He was often affected by it, but people always improve. Suddenly, when Scourgelord Tyrannus mentioned Alleria, the Witherer became calm. Whatever he had experienced in the past, his only consolation now was that he was not a slave. Even being seen as an outcast or an evil being was far better than being a slave.

"All the Betrayer must die!" Nathanos whispered, and for a moment he saw the surprise on Scourgelord Tyrannus's face, then he smiled, "I've come to take your life."

Scourgelord Tyrannus laughed loudly, and said disdainfully, "You and I both know we are already dead. What's laughable is that you're still pursuing life. After the Lich Gate, all you can do is try your best to please the living, hoping they'll pity you..."

The blade pierced through the Scourge Lord's weathered skin with ease, sinking deep inside! Scourgelord Tyrannus's pupils gradually dilated, and the pain made his face even more rigid.

"You've done all this... Will they... accept you?" Scourgelord Tyrannus gripped the blade piercing his body with both hands, still holding on, hoping to hear Nathanos's answer before he closed his eyes, or to see even the slightest pain in the eyes of the Undead, which would be enough for him.

But what he saw was not anger or pain, not helplessness or regret, but only fervor and excitement.

Nathanos grabbed his head with one hand, leaned closer, and whispered in Scourgelord Tyrannus's ear, "You think I came to save them? I abandoned them long ago..."

When the battle ended, Scourgelord Tyrannus closed his eyes, filled with the humiliation of defeat. The last thing he saw was the smile on the face of the man who had defeated him.

The joy of victory was fleeting; the pain soon returned. Scourgelord Tyrannus was right from the start; Nathanos himself could still sense the call of Frostmourne ...

As Scourgelord Tyrannus fell, the flow of the Undead ceased from the tunnel. The group realized they had won.

"Well done!" a human shouted, his tone sounding like that of a leader of rescued slaves. Scourgelord Tyrannus's death symbolized victory in the Battle of Saronite Mines. After clashing with the Scourge soldiers, the human spoke rapidly between breaths, but he wasn't addressing the Witherer, but rather Lansber, all the warriors of Azeroth except the Undead: "Warriors, you saved us, you restored our freedom... We can never repay such a great debt, but I swear, from this day forward all will know of your heroic deeds, and how you forged a path of light in this dark fortress."

From now on? The Witherer pondered the word, his cloak whistling in the wind.

From now on, the meaning of the Forsaken will not be hidden in the shadows, leading the living to believe that the victims have returned to dust.

He looked at the humans giving their sermons and the cheering crowd, and the question of Scourgelord Tyrannus came to mind. It was no longer a question; he had already found the answer. Although some things later made him doubt, that tiny spark did not mean a final burst of energy before death.

From this day forward, the Forsaken will completely abandon the past, just like him.

The cold wind was nothing compared to Nathanos's icy heart, but it grew increasingly biting.

He went to look at those self-righteous living people one last time... From now on, perhaps no one will know what happened here today!

"Danger is approaching, quickly hide in the tunnel."

The human grew increasingly excited as he spoke, the rescued cheering, and the man, overflowing with glory, basking in the praise. Nathanos heard the sound of wings beating against the wind and snow, and rapidly approached amidst the human's "speech."

He turned and walked toward the entrance to the ice cave without shouting a warning, even though he knew that if he did, many people could survive.

Calila turned her head to watch her master move in the opposite direction. The wind still whipped his hair as he pulled up his hood with the hand that wasn't holding his sword. The Dark Ranger followed, his gaze still fixed on the human.

"Today, we have not only witnessed your bravery, but also the power of the Alliance and the Horde to set aside hatred and unite in solidarity. With this power, even the Lich King would bow down at your feet."

A cheer erupted, and Lansber was among the cheering crowd.

Calila was curious why the Witherer didn't say anything; he should be the one passionately uttering words at this moment.

Suddenly, two streaks of black mist flew out from behind the Witherer's cloak, flying to the sides and circling the tunnel entrance wall, overlapping each other to form a see-through magical barrier.

"Master, what is this?" Calila asked in confusion.

Nathanos did not answer. His eyes were fixed on Lansber, on the Silver Covenant robes she wore, and on the leader of that organization... She stirred a pang of pity in him.

Hesitation and soft-heartedness! Nathanos clenched his fists. No wonder Arthas was willing to abandon his heart. These emotions... always shake a person's initial judgment and determination.

The wind outside was blowing even harder, and some people standing outside seemed to have a bad feeling.

Lansber's Elf constitution sensed the energy fluctuations. He turned and saw Nathanos, and the barrier separating them. Just as he was wondering what was happening, the Witherer raised a hand towards him and then clenched it. Lansber instantly felt something unseen grab his neck, and his body began to move against his will, flying towards the cave entrance.

"Ah!" Quel'dorei crashed into the ice inside the tunnel. There was no doubt that the one who caused him to be in such a sorry state was the Witherer, but why would he do that? Just as he was about to point at the Undead's back and start cursing, he discovered that he wasn't the only one who had flown in; there were also warriors who had come with him to assist the Witherer.

"They've arrived!" Nathanos's voice was icy cold and devoid of any emotion.

A colossal monster burst forth from beneath the surface outside the Hall of Reflection, its size so great that its shadow covered the entire platform. Before the slaves could react, the monster unleashed a gleaming ice ball towards those below. Instantly, the powerful energy slammed into the ground, the tremors causing icicles to fall from the tunnel, and the resulting gale-force winds, carrying a chilling coldness, assaulted the Witherer's barrier.

If Scourgelord Tyrannus's Frostfang was a fully grown Frost Wyrm, then this attacking monster was the mother of all Frost Wyrm. Her wings flapped, heralding the prelude to the destruction of all living beings in the wind. After confirming there were no survivors below, she turned and vanished once more into the snowstorm.

"The noisy fellow has finally quieted down. I owe Sindragosa a favor." Nathanos waved his hand, dispelling the barrier, and walked out with Calila first. The entire platform was completely frozen, and everyone standing on it turned into ice sculptures with terrified expressions.

Lansber looked as if he were witnessing the end of the world; his lips trembled, and he dared not utter a sound.

"The Hall of Reflection, we've finally arrived!" The Witherer said with a smile, but soon he heard a dissenting voice coming from behind him.

"Then...what was the price?" Lansber tried to enunciate each word clearly, but he was overwhelmed by his emotions. "You knew Sindragosa would come, didn't you? Why didn't you save them? Why did you save me?"

"You should say thank you, Elf." Nathanos turned to look at him. "And all of you. If you don't want to live, you can kill yourselves."

"You haven't answered my question yet. Why won't you let me die with these people?"

"I can now!" The Witherer glared at him, the intimidation making Lansber grip his weapon tightly.

"But I won't do that? You're all her people, I see that, so I won't let you die." Sulfuras was sheathed. The Witherer no longer looked at the astonished Lansber, and said to Calila, "I will walk the rest of the way alone, taking them away and giving them their reward."

"I should stay by your side, Master."

"No," Nathanos shook his head, "You are not allowed to follow!"

Calila wanted to say something more, but her master had already strode towards the Hall of Reflection. His cloak was no longer fluttering, and the cold wind around him had subsided.