Icecrown Citadel (24)

A roar? Shattering? Arthas was momentarily confused by Tirion's words. He thought the Paladin was trying to distract him, but Fordring didn't seem to be a good liar.

The Dark Prince stared at the man. His allies were doing well; the Valkyr had been driven back, and they had regrouped around Ashbringer.

If they join the Scourge, if Frostmourne absorbs their souls...

Arthas reached out with his left hand to touch the Rune Sword, to feel its coldness and its thirst for souls. This stirred within him a bloodlust, but suddenly he touched something strange. His senses told him it was a rift.

"This can't be!" Arthas looked down at Frostmourne. For the past few years, this sword had been his companion through all his battles; only with Frostmourne did Arthas feel whole.

But what he had never imagined happened: a conspicuous crack beneath the skull on the hilt of Frostmourne completely drew Arthas's attention.

'All your power comes from this sword, but unfortunately, it's long since broken. Your last reliance is no longer trustworthy.'

Terenas's voice echoed in his ears, like the tolling of his doom. Arthas was incredulous; Frostmourne had developed a crack. Would this affect him like Illidan's invasion of the Frozen Throne years ago? Or was this crack not caused by Ashbringer, but because Frostmourne had been sealed within the Frozen Throne, Ner'zhul had allowed it to pierce the ice and bring it before Arthas, the immense power of which might have damaged Frostmourne?

However, no matter what Arthas thought, he couldn't stop Tirion from telling his allies about Frostmourne, which would undoubtedly boost their morale, and Arthas had to admit that Frostmourne had already begun to become unstable.

How much longer can this sword last?

The sword's owner stood still, not thinking about anything. He casually looked up; the battle wasn't over yet, and a crack didn't prove anything.

"All I heard was the sound of your legs trembling."

"You are at your last gasp, Arthas," Tirion said passionately. "The souls consumed by Frostmourne yearn for release, and now their restraints have loosened. Once this sword breaks, you will face the wrath of thousands of souls. Your father, Uther, and someone who told me all this, whose mother is also within this sword."

"What?" Arthas could no longer hide his shock. He checked again; Nathanos was not there.

Tirion's eyes were fixed on Frostmourne, and his thoughts drifted back to before the battle.

"Why are you sneaking around to see me again?"

"Because the Alliance are also in your army." Nathanos removed his hood; it wasn't easy to meet Tirion alone, as the Highlord was now surrounded by people at all times.

"Alright, your previous letter made it very clear that Arthas must be eliminated at the Frozen Throne. I've taken that into account. So what is your purpose this time, the Witherer? The final battle is imminent, and if you can offer any additional assistance, I would be very happy to do so."

"I've been to the Hall of Reflection," Nathanos said.

"I've heard about it." Tirion glanced at the Witherer; he didn't seem injured. "The Alliance originally wanted to investigate this, but attacking Icecrown Citadel is the top priority right now." He paused for a few seconds, then asked, "Have you discovered anything?"

"I saw Frostmourne, the sword placed in the Hall of Reflection. I also tried to speak with the spirit within the sword and saw my mother."

"Your mother... is inside the Rune Sword?" Tirion, somewhat surprised, then said regretfully, "I understand how you feel, but please believe that we can definitely save those souls."

"That's not what I meant." Nathanos shook his head. "I meant the sword Frostmourne."

What's wrong with Frostmourne?

After Tirion asked his question, he saw Nathanos take out a bundle of scrolls and unroll them in front of Tirion. Frostmourne, the sword, had been painted on the scrolls.

"What's this?"

"Your enemy," Nathanos said, pressing his hands to the sides of the scroll so Tirion could see it more clearly. "People have always thought the Lich King was the greatest enemy, but the real enemy is this Rune Sword. More Frostmourne is Arthas's most fearsome weapon and the source of his power."

"But this sword is in the hands of the Dark Prince."

"Don't be foolish, Highlord," Nathanos said softly, correcting Tirion's mistake. "You and I both know that weapons aren't everything for a Warrior. You're still Tirion Ashbringer Fordring. I'm still Nathanos without my life. Our power has never come from weapons, but Arthas is different. His biggest mistake was relying too much on Frostmourne. Without Frostmourne, he's nothing. So, to defeat him, you must destroy his weapons."

"This is a divine weapon, Nathanos," Tirion warned. "I can't even guarantee that Ashbringer will have the upper hand in a decisive battle against him on Scourge territory."

"What if I told you the weakness of this weapon?"

"What?" Tirion exclaimed in surprise.

"There is no absolutely perfect weapon." Nathanos freed his right hand to stroke the blade of Frostmourne beneath the skull in the painting, where the blade and skull met. "The blade of this weapon is very slender in pursuit of lightness, but this has exposed a terrible problem: its toughness is very low. Perhaps they believed that the materials used in its forging could compensate for this defect, but every metal has its limits. No matter how strong a city wall is, if you launch hundreds or thousands of attacks on the same spot, cracks will appear."

Tirion nodded thoughtfully; Nathanos's words made sense. "But the clash of weapons is mutual. What if Ashbringer loses to Frostmourne?"

"I told you, I saw my mother in the Hall of Reflection, and she told me how to defeat the Lich King."

Fordring blinked, wondering what this had to do with what they were discussing. He quickly figured out the answer, and before he could say it, Nathanos nodded affirmatively.

The sword still contains its own soul and consciousness!

Tirion was now brimming with confidence, not only because he and his allies were locked in a final battle with the Lich King, but also because a horde of enraged souls were rebelling. They were struggling to break free of Frostmourne's shackles. The rift wasn't caused by Ashbringer; it was the result of their coordinated attack from within.

"Warriors, attack!" Tirion rallied his men to Charge.

Arthas had also been waiting for this moment. He hadn't lost yet; he still had one last chance. On the entire battlefield, only Ashbringer posed a threat to Frostmourne. Therefore, he would seize control of its master.

Frostmourne unleashed a burst of energy at Tirion, who was at the forefront. The Paladin raised a shield to block, but he hadn't expected that the energy wouldn't be offensive; instead, it would forcibly imprison him. He was sealed within the bursting ice.

"I will let you witness your warriors become my servants."