Icecrown Citadel (VI)

The light in the hall turned the black floor blue. The air was still, and the only sound in the empty corridor was the mournful cry of a soul.

Nathanos advanced silently, glancing casually to spot a broken shield in the corner. Had anyone else been here besides him?

He gazed ahead, the blue light growing brighter and brighter. Even though he hadn't gotten close yet, the silhouette suspended in mid-air had already captured his heart.

The runic blade emanated an eerie energy. A dazzling light cast dappled shadows on the wall. Frostmourne, it really is here! Unattended? Unbelievable.

The Witherer, the lack of air entering his lungs calming him. His left hand instinctively reached for his right abdomen, the very spot where the sword had ended his life, the pain... lingering there.

When he looked up, he saw his reflection in the sword and felt a sense of... unfamiliarity. His cloak was stained with charred black and blood, and his armor was covered in scratches. A few strands of hair peeked out from under the hood and hung in front of his face.

Tension! An unprecedented tension. This time, he must face the terrifying enemy that is about to arrive alone, because Frostmourne and its master are one; what it can feel, the Lich King can feel too.

"Perhaps there is still time!" Nathanos pondered. He had heard that King Terenas was killed by this sword, as was Uther. Unlike him, the Lich King did not resurrect either of them. Did this mean that their souls were still within the sword?

Nathanos dared not touch it, but he could try to speak with the sword, not knowing who it would summon, for Frostmourne had devoured thousands upon thousands of souls.

Who would respond to him? It should be Uther. Nathanos longed to speak with the Lightbringer, and he had even already decided what to say.

"My child."

"What!" Nathanos's exclamation echoed in the narrow space around Frostmourne. He stopped casting his spell and quickly took several steps back. Faced with that voice, what should he do now? Should he turn back in shame and leave, or take this opportunity to atone for his sins?

"Mother... Mother, I..." Nathanos had a lot to say, but when it came to his lips, he didn't know where to begin, especially when he saw Daphne's kind and gentle face.

"There's no time, Nathanos." The mother's spirit flickered in and out of existence as she shook her head, gesturing for her son to be quiet. "The Lich King will be here soon. It was supposed to be Uther who explained everything to you, but I... I stole that opportunity. Listen, the Lich King must be defeated on the Frozen Throne, and... someone must take his place. The throne can end, but it must endure."

Nathanos had considered that he and his mother had many things to discuss, but he would never bring up such a serious topic first. Since this was the case, it meant their time was running out; the Lich King was approaching. He nodded to indicate that he remembered those two sentences, and asked with immense guilt, "Who can shoulder this heavy responsibility?"

"No one knows the answer, child. Those Scourge Undead have no mind and only know how to kill. Without the Lich King's control, they will attack living beings without restraint."

"But isn't the Lich King doing all of this right now? If his purpose is to control the Scourge and prevent them from committing massacres, then why is he trying to conquer the world?"

"Human nature does not exist only in one's own heart, Nathanos."

Nathanos felt as if he'd been struck Sap. What did his mother mean? Did Arthas still have humanity? How could that be?

"Ah!" Daphne suddenly knelt down and wailed in agony, "He... he's here!"

The door at the other end of the hall was pushed open, and the chill that rushed out almost froze the air. Arthas! The Witherer gritted his teeth. The last time he saw him in Naxxramas was just an illusion, but this time, the real Arthas stood right in front of him.

"Child...you must..." Daphne seemed about to say something more, but the Lich King's voice burst forth from the helmet. "Shut up, mortal!"

The mother's soul vanished, absorbed into Frostmourne. Nathanos, witnessing this, roared in fury, "You beast! What have you done to her?"

With a simple gesture, Arthas Rune Sword flying from its pedestal into his palm. "You seem to have forgotten how she died, Nathanos. You still have the audacity to face her!"

"I will not forget that I also know this sword imprisons your parents." Nathanos drew his weapon, cleaving Sulfuras in two, and pointed one of the swords at Arthas, roaring, "Did you think I would be a coward like you? Afraid to face my sins? I came here today to defeat you, and now that I have seen my mother, I have another reason to kill you!"

"Bluster won't do any good," the Lich King said. "If you want her soul, come with me. Marvin, Farek, bring in his corpse."

The Lich King's words told the Witherer that there were others here, Frostmourne was not unguarded. On either side of the hall, there was a three-tiered platform, and light emanated from the ground, revealing two ghosts clad in heavy armor.

Marvin and Farek, Arthas's personal bodyguards, served their master faithfully, both in life and in death.

"As you wish, Master."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Darion Mograine mentally calculated the time he had been waiting; it felt like an eternity. He tried to stretch, only to find his armor covered in frost. The Death Knight forcefully shattered these restraints, not because they would hinder his movement, but because the time had come. He could no longer sense the powerful evil force emanating from the Frozen Throne. This meant the Lich King had departed, and Nathanos had completed his mission.

Now it was his turn to act. Darion kicked the Undead Gryphon with all his might and charged toward a certain direction in the darkness, tiny shards of ice striking his armor with a "clattering" sound. When the Death Knight broke through this harsh environment, everything became clear. In his experience, he had never seen the entire Frozen Throne. Based on his usual assumptions about the throne, he had expected carpets and ornate decorations, but on the contrary, the Lich King had left nothing here that would bring him pleasure. There was a fairly spacious platform, several smooth stone pillars standing around it, and the throne stood high up, leaning against an iceberg.

The extremely simple design of the throne surprised Darion. He could imagine the Lich King sitting on it, with no one to talk to and only the cold wind for company.

Could Arthas himself have sensed it...?

The Death Knight shook his head, stopped his wild thoughts, and began searching for the fragments of the Frozen Throne.