Outside the main gates of burning Stratholme, the troops of the Kingdom of Lordaeron cheerfully left the scene of their crimes, laden with bags large and small.
Archbishop Faol trembled all over with fury at the sight.
Judging by Prince Arthas's reaction, he had authorized the soldiers to burn, kill, and loot throughout the city from the start.
Otherwise, very few soldiers would have followed him in wantonly slaughtering their own country's people.
Carrying gold, silver, and treasures stained with innocent blood, they left the destroyed city in great satisfaction.
Faol cursed bitterly, "Turning on his own people. What a demon of a prince!"
Herad had always despised Arthas, but for once, he offered a fair assessment.
"No normal person would dare massacre a major city in his own country.
If Prince Arthas wanted to achieve his goal, he had to offer enough benefits!"
In fact, Faol understood that perfectly well.
Expecting a horse to run without letting it graze would never work.
But his hometown had been stripped bare by a mob of soldiers, then burned to ruins.
No one could have borne something like that!
Faol wished he could go over and kill those bastards.
But this was something that would not happen until more than ten years later.
Was he supposed to go kill Arthas now, while the boy was still playing in the mud?
He could hardly tell King Terenas that his son would grow up to become a demon who massacred cities.
That he would stab him to death on his throne and ultimately destroy the entire Kingdom of Lordaeron.
So he should kill him now and hurry up and have a better son.
No one would believe something like that.
After all, the accuracy of Prophecy was unreliable.
Unable to eliminate a future criminal,