Icecrown Citadel (12)

Tirion looked at the Forsaken before him and wondered about the letter in his hand.

"I heard that the Alliance's Skybreaker went to Icecrown Citadel?"

"You'll have to ask the Alliance about that," Belmont said slyly. Before coming here, Nathanos had specifically instructed him to avoid any questions from Tirion. Clearly, the Ashbringer was about to press for more information, but Belmont preemptively said, "Highlord, I'm just a messenger."

Surprise and wariness were evident on Fordring's face. He gave a half-smile and unfolded the letter, saying, "You are still a loyal messenger, Belmont. Go back and tell your master that we need to meet to discuss the role the Forsaken should play in the final battle."

"I will deliver your message." Belmont bowed and turned away from Fordring's sight.

The envelope had been opened, but Tirion didn't look at it immediately. He beckoned an Argent Crusade soldier over and told him, "Go and find out what's going on with the Alliance and report back to me immediately."

The soldiers withdrew. Tirion frowned, thinking for a moment. Nathanos's sudden disappearance into the Hall of Reflection didn't seem suspicious at all. His goal was to obtain information on defeating the Lich King, and that information was currently in the hands of the Paladin.

Tirion silently read the text line by line. Nathanos had communicated with Frostmourne and received instructions from the spirit within the sword—this did not surprise Fordring. However, the following message made Tirion's expression turn serious.

"We must defeat him at the Frozen Throne?" the Paladin murmured. This wasn't good news, as the Lich King would have the advantage of timing and location. Even worse news came last.

"There must be a Lich King, and the monarchy must continue? What does that mean?" Tirion couldn't help but blurt out his question. He was angry because Nathanos hadn't made it clear in the letter. If these were necessary conditions for defeating the Lich King, then the Argent Crusade's goal seemed to be helping another Lich King seize power.

"How could I possibly tell anyone else about something like this?" Tirion cursed under his breath as he walked to the window, where he could see the Gate of Terror in front of Icecrown Citadel: Keleseth.

Facing the thick city walls, the Paladin clenched his fists.

The power was simply too overwhelming. Nathanos ventured alone to a desolate corner of Icecrown Glacier, wanting to conceal the artifact in his hands from others. The instant Darion Mograine placed Shadowmourne in his grasp, a familiar, Frostmourne pain shot through Nathanos's abdomen. Shadowmourne differed from Frostmourne, but both could reopen Nathanos's wounds, tormenting him.

The Witherer placed the axe on the snow and sat cross-legged to one side. This action made him somewhat uncomfortable, but he wouldn't have done it if Shadowmourne hadn't been a special weapon infused with soul power.

In this world, only he and the Death Knight probably know about Shadowmourne. If others knew how this sword was forged, they would think that the people involved in its creation had gone completely mad.

Therefore, before facing condemnation and opposition from those people, Nathanos must seize control of this weapon and make Shadowmourne submit to his power. As mentioned earlier, this is a weapon infused with souls, so the prerequisite for controlling it is that he can command those souls.

Nathanos felt himself return to the Hall of Reflection, and just like before, began to converse with an evil artifact. As he chanted the incantation, Shadowmourne began to tremble incessantly, and the runes on the axe blade gradually lit up. From within, a savage force tugged at the Witherer, causing him to see a thousand images.

The sky was blood red. Under the New Avalon, the Death Knight Charge towards the Crimson Crusade. A Paladin clad in shimmering armor tried to stop them but was stabbed from his horse by a single sword. His soul was ripped from his body.

Zul'Drak, home of the Drakkari Ice Troll. A Storm Giant, consumed by rage and lightning, began to sweep away his enemies, leaving no Troll unscathed.

Dragonblight, Borean Tundra, Howling Fjord, Grizzly Hills —battles rage everywhere, and fallen figures are everywhere.

These thousand souls come from different races and have no connection with each other. The only thing they share is hatred for the Scourge, and their anger does not dissipate even after they die.

Nathanos opened his eyes and couldn't help but ask himself, "How am I supposed to control them?"

Each of these souls harbors hatred for the Scourge, a hatred that can fuel their collective effort to destroy the Lich King. However, this doesn't mean they will accept being controlled, unless Nathanos can make them feel that they are essentially the same as him.

"Are we going to compare who's more miserable?" The Witherer scoffed at himself, his hands slowly touching the wounds on his abdomen and face, two different memories flooding into the Shadowmourne.

Remorse!

In Eversong Forest, he was surrounded by the Scourge. The Abomination Ramsden seized him, slammed him to the ground, and brutally stomped on his body. Before the feeling of being crushed to pieces had even subsided, Arthas's Rune Sword followed. He fell, his soul torn back into his body. His mother's blood splattered on his face, and he, like the other Undead minions, began his march towards Silvermoon City.

Anger!

Escaping the Lich King's control is the dream of every Undead who longs to rebel, and he succeeded. He seized the opportunity to regain his freedom, and within days, he understood a lesson his decades-long life had failed to teach him—the cruelty of fate. Surrounded in his own home, fighting alone, he resembled his solitary struggle against Arthas, but this time his enemies crushed his resistance on a spiritual level. His lover's arrow felled him; he had never been so enraged. This rage wasn't from betrayal, misunderstanding, or any other reason, but pure, unyielding fury.

Redemption!

His shame upon seeing his mother, and the fact that her soul remained trapped in Frostmourne, strengthened his resolve to defeat the Lich King. Very few in the world could survive a direct confrontation with Frostmourne; its immense power was no longer a secret.

The trembling of Frostmourne gradually subsided, and slowly, the weapon detached itself from the ground, floating before Nathanos. When the Witherer opened his eyes, he felt Shadowmourne extending an invitation to him. Nathanos reached out and grasped the axe handle; the initial stinging sensation vanished, replaced by an unparalleled sense of comfort. He felt the call of the souls, and the power of evil, blood, and frost surged within him.

Was Arthas the same way when facing Frostmourne?

The Witherer looked up at the snow falling all around and walked back the way it came.