Deciding Life and Death

The Forsaken have achieved an unprecedented victory. Belmont walks alone in the dark tunnels. Maraudon is neither crowded nor spacious; since the Forsaken gained more territory, more and more people have left to fill new homes.

Belmont told himself: This is good; it shows that the influence of the Forsaken is becoming increasingly significant.

Unbeknownst to him, the leader of the Shadowblade had arrived at the only place in Maraudon where sunlight shone. A waterfall cascaded down from the rocks of the stream, splashing water into the lake below. This reminded him of his master, who would never stop.

The rhythmic flow of the water and the shadows of the cliffs offered a respite in this sweltering, sandy region. Belmont paused, intending to linger for a moment. Where would the Forsaken's next target lie? He couldn't wait to get back to work.

A seemingly ordinary figure caught his eye, prompting him to look up. A Forsaken woman was pulling her fishing rod back with all her might. Belmont watched her work with curiosity. When she turned around, their eyes met, and to Belmont's surprise, she glared at him fiercely.

"It's fun, isn't it?" the Forsaken woman roared, her voice filled with the struggle of being looked down upon. Fish occasionally splashed in the bucket. "Watching me frolic with these fish? It's interesting, isn't it?"

Belmont offered no apology, replying casually, "That's true. What do you want to do with the fish? Eat it?"

"Of course." She laughed heartily, only making Belmont more confused. The Forsaken didn't need sleep, didn't need food; they missed out on much of life's pleasures compared to the living. "But not for me, but for my pet rats. I've prepared the finest seasonings and a pot. What do you think, Belmont! Yes, I know who you are."

He smiled back at her, a mocking smile on his face. "Nobody in Maraudon doesn't know me. If you really don't, it means you've been spending too much time with your rats."

"At least they won't reject me." This sentence startled Belmont. "At least they'll still flock around me when I have fresh food."

He strode up to her. "What do you mean?" Belmont practically shouted. "Explain yourself!"

"What's the big deal?" she said. "I like being with living things, is that wrong? Whether it's a rat or a Goblins who'll chat with me all day for a silver coin, at least they can let me get away from the fact that I'm dead for a while."

"You are Forsaken!" Belmont roared in fury. "You are a subject of the Lord of the Witherer. If he hadn't given you this new identity, you would probably be dead by now."

"What's the difference?" she retorted, then explained, "Of course there is. If I rot in the ground, the living will see me as a dead person, and if I become Forsaken, I'll become a monster."

Every word she uttered fueled Belmont's murderous intent towards her. "So you're condemning the Witherer for giving you this identity? Who allowed you to stay in this city, free from the fear of being wiped out by the living? Who allowed you to live comfortably in this safe place?"

"Ha!" she scoffed. "You want me to thank the Witherer? Yes, he did provide shelter for us unfortunate people. But is that what we need? What good are all those territories to us? Can we grow crops? Can we taste good food? What can we enjoy?"

Water spilled onto Belmont's shoes. The woman slammed the bucket to the ground, and the fish she had painstakingly caught escaped, thrashing about restlessly.

"We have nothing," she continued. "We only attract more fear and hatred, especially as the Witherer lead their armies to conquer city after city. People who didn't care about us before are now hostile towards us, including even our own living family members!"

These are the most dreaded words.

"You'd better shut your mouth, or your master will make sure you never speak again."

"Why him, and not you?" the woman said slyly. "I know, was the Witherer abandoned by his own family? Did he also crave recognition? So he had no choice but to conquer territories and make those who once looked down on him regret it. It's a pity, perhaps this is the ultimate goal of his grand plan, but his body is already almost unable to bear the burden. He lost an arm, didn't he?"

"Die!" Belmont grabbed the woman by the neck, easily lifting her up and squeezing her throat repeatedly. The woman's expression turned ferocious and painful; no matter how much she struggled, she couldn't break free.

"My lord?" an unknown voice called out. Belmont looked in the direction of the voice and saw a member of the Shadowblade running towards them.

"You're lucky!" Belmont released her grip. The woman fell to the ground, coughing uncontrollably, then glared at him like he was an enemy before hurrying away.

"What is it?" Belmont turned and asked. He noticed his subordinate was looking at him strangely, seemingly shocked by his earlier rudeness. "I don't have time to watch you dazed."

"A message from Orgrimmar, extremely urgent. Top secret!"

A letter was handed to the leader of the Shadowblade. Belmont hadn't heard the word "top secret" in a long time. After Deathwing's defeat, the world entered a brief period of peace, but the Horde's Great Chief did not want peace. Although Belmont knew Grommash would take action soon, he hadn't expected it to come so quickly.

"What kind of trouble is that Great Chief trying to stir up this time?"

"This is a message from a member of the Blade of the Witherer," the Shadowblade member said, causing him to stop in his tracks as he was about to open the letter. Only the master had the right to read the reports from the Blade of the Witherer members.

"You may leave," Belmont said. The subordinate bowed and turned to leave. When he tried to look for the woman, she had vanished. Only the nearly dead fish on the ground proved she had been there.

Are these things what we need? What's the use of having so much land? Can we grow crops, taste delicious food, and enjoy anything?

For most of the Forsaken, the answers to these questions would be difficult to fathom, and Belmont was thankful he wasn't one of them. He stared at the fish bubbling from their mouths, kicked them back into the water with a few quick kicks, then turned and stepped into the tunnel toward his master's dwelling.

"We enjoy the power to decide life and death."