"Your Highness, I..."
Dick opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found he had nothing to say.
Arthas smiled. The somewhat gaunt prince sat in his chair, looking at the uneasy Dick. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.
"Do you think I should go to Northrend?"
That question!
Dick's heart trembled. Arthas had actually asked that question. If... if he could dissuade Arthas from going to Northrend, would the second Lich King never appear? Most importantly, once the fate of Arthas, the absolute central figure of the next seven years, changed, how high would world divergence rise?
Dick scarcely dared to think about that question, but under Arthas's gaze, he pressed his lips together and said firmly,
"No, you shouldn't!"
"Oh? Why?"
Arthas was a little curious. Although he had no intention of changing his mind, he still asked,
"Mal'Ganis fled there. I must go and kill him. It is my responsibility, and my atonement! Why do you think I shouldn't go?"
"Because this is a trap! A trap meant for you!"
Dick calmed himself. He too sat down, facing Arthas, and spoke gravely.
"I believe that with your wisdom, it shouldn't be difficult to see that from Kel'Thuzad deliberately getting himself killed, to the attack on you at Zul'Mashar, to Mal'Ganis appearing, and even... even the destruction of Stratholme, an unseen hand has been driving everything. His goal is to lure you to Northrend, that continent already corrupted by dark forces. Under these circumstances, you should stay in Lordaeron all the more, rather than venture into danger alone!"
Dick's voice grew more emphatic.
"You cannot shoulder the responsibility for an entire nation on your own. Changing this nation's future requires everyone to act together!"
Arthas fell silent at those words. A dozen seconds later, a look of struggle flashed across his face. The prince made a gesture, and Falric, standing at the tent entrance, immediately lowered the flap and stood guard outside with the soldiers. Arthas was going to speak privately with Dick.
"But... from what Mal'Ganis left behind, I discovered how vast the Undead Scourge's forces are. It nearly drove me to despair. Lordaeron simply cannot withstand the Undead Scourge when it comes out in full force. But I also discovered a secret that can keep the undead in check! I must go there! I must obtain that sword!"
Arthas revealed his secret to Dick, whose heart turned ice-cold.
History... history had changed after all!
Originally, after reaching Northrend, Arthas had learned of Frostmourne's existence from Muradin, the Dwarves Prince of the Explorers' League. But now, Mal'Ganis had actually volunteered information about this runeblade that could command the undead.
This cunning Dreadlord no longer resorted to hidden schemes. Instead, it laid everything before Arthas. Faced with this overt ploy, the only way out was that sword, yet the demon had concealed the most crucial information.
Frostmourne could indeed command all the undead, but the moment someone held it, the first thing sacrificed would be their own soul. When that happened, what would it matter if Arthas possessed Frostmourne? Once he himself became a victim of that runeblade, how could he rely on it to save his nation?
Yet Dick could not reveal that fact, because even if he did, Arthas, who had already placed all his hopes in that sword, would not choose to listen. Arthas had his own standards for judging matters. How could Dick possibly change them with a few words?
"But Your Highness, have you considered why Mal'Ganis would reveal such important information to you? That sword... there must be something wrong with that sword! If it really is so powerful,
"then why would Mal'Ganis hand it to you? This is nothing but a clumsy lie!" Dick cursed through gritted teeth, then looked at Arthas again and spoke with deliberate emphasis.
"If you need great power, I happen to know the location of an artifact of order left behind by the creator Titans. That is the power you should pursue! You shouldn't place all your hopes in some runeblade of unknown nature!"
Arthas said nothing. He looked at Dick, his eyes filled with curiosity. Finally, he clenched his fist before him.
"Of course Mal'Ganis means me no good. That sword has a side effect: those whose wills are not strong enough will sacrifice their souls! I know that, but I'm willing to take the gamble. As long as I can tame that sword... everything will..."
"But you can't tame it! That sword comes from the Burning Legion..."
Whoosh!
Just as Dick revealed Frostmourne's secret, a golden beam appeared inside the tent. Arthas's expression froze on his face. Everything around them, even the roar of the sea and the sea breeze, stopped in midair. Dick's eyes darted about. He knew what had happened.
A large-scale Time Stop!
There was only one kind of creature in all Azeroth capable of this: the Keepers of Time-the Bronze Dragons.
"Little fellow, I know who you are, and I very much hope you can turn the fate of the entire world around. That is why I can tolerate your minor meddling. But not Arthas... he is one of the foundations of every timeline's existence. If you change his decision to go to Northrend, the entire timeline will enter a 'Timequake.' This is a risk whose consequences you cannot bear!"
"Stop trying to change major events that affect the course of the entire world. Those are the pillars of the timeline. You must begin with smaller events, understand? Once the world has diverged to a certain degree, once new pillars of the timeline have formed, changing these major events will not be impossible. But now... at least for now, you cannot!"
"I am Nozdormu, the Dragon Aspect of Time... come visit the Caverns of Time when you have a moment. I look forward to your arrival, Timewalker."
The next moment, everything returned to normal. Arthas's face remained animated, but Dick could no longer finish what he had been saying. Apart from him, probably only a handful of people in the entire world knew that the world had stopped running for those two seconds.
"Your Highness, you had best not take the risk!"
Dick seemed somewhat dispirited. With the mysterious Nozdormu going so far as to appear personally to warn him, Dick naturally would not risk the destruction of the world by continuing to dissuade Arthas. He had once thought he could change everyone's fate-Darion's, for instance, or Uther's.
But now, he could not change the fate of this pitiable man before him, Arthas Menethil...
That feeling of helplessness was terrible!
Arthas also noticed Dick's expression, but took it for sorrow, so he patted Dick's shoulder.
"Don't worry! I will triumph. I will return with that sword and save this nation!"
Looking at Arthas's confident smile, Dick suddenly felt waves of sadness. Holding back his grief, he asked another question.
"Your Highness, regarding Stratholme, you could have stayed out of it entirely and left it to Falric or Marwyn. I believe they would give everything for you. But why did you insist on doing it yourself? You are the future king. Your reputation should not be squandered like this!"
At that question, Arthas's expression grew solemn.
"I would never do that, Dick! Everyone has their own responsibilities. Saving this nation is mine. I never leave my responsibilities to others. Besides, Falric and Marwyn have already done enough for me. They shouldn't have to bear such infamy as well!"
"Phew... Your Highness, I understand!"
As Arthas spoke those words, the dim Holy Light within him surged once more. Dick took a deep breath, rose, and saluted Arthas.
"Then I wish you a safe journey, my prince!"
"Wait, Dick!"
Arthas stopped Dick as he turned away and placed a letter of authorization bearing his seal into Dick's hands.
"A group of undead still occupies the deepest part of Stratholme. That is why I summoned you. Until I return, you must hold them back. Don't let them spread into Eastweald! If possible, destroy them!"
"Beep... quest triggered: Arthas's Charge" "Hold Stratholme until Arthas returns, or destroy the undead occupying it!" (Note: This quest is the final quest of the major Historical Node-Stratholme. Upon completion, this historical node will be completed.)
Dick took a deep breath and accepted the authorization with both hands. He glanced at it, and the item information sprang into view.
"Stratholme Acting Lord's Certificate" "Green" "Use: Incorporate Stratholme into the external template" "Description: A lord's certificate authorized by the House of Menethil, possessing utterly inexplicable mysterious power!"
The lightweight document felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds in Dick's hands. It was more than a mere authorization; it also represented Arthas's trust. Especially after Dick had done something tantamount to betrayal, that trust was already something precious indeed.
Dick suddenly spread his arms and embraced the unsuspecting Arthas, patting his back hard.
"Make sure you stay safe! If things truly reach the point of no return, remember, don't come out of that sword! I will come to save you!"
Arthas was rather at a loss at this intimate gesture, but after saying those words, Dick turned and left the tent. Arthas sat down in his chair, pondering Dick's final words.
"Don't leave the sword... what does that mean? Heh, Dick really is a strange fellow! So forthright yet mysterious. It really is impossible to hate him!"
A week later, Arthas left.
With three thousand elite soldiers and more than twenty ships, he quietly departed the Eastern Kingdoms from the Eastweald Coast. The proceedings to hold the Order of the Silver Hand accountable were still working their way through a lengthy, cumbersome process. In his heart, Uther actually knew that this was Arthas's way of expressing an apology before leaving.
As heir to the throne, he could not go back on his word. Going this far was already a concession on his part.
This also dispelled much of the tension that permeated the entire Order of the Silver Hand. After all, in this version of history, Arthas had not been together with Jaina, so naturally he would not feel abandoned. Added to that, Dick's actions had offered a little comfort to his already battered heart, so the prince would not become quite so extreme.
The "Stratholme Defense Guard" Dick had assembled officially moved into the Stratholme Rear Defensive Line a day earlier, along the stretch from King's Square to the Fountain Gardens. With the civilians' help, they quickly built a solid defensive line. Grand Knight Saidan Dathrohan also led another contingent of Silver Hand knights to garrison what had been the Scarlet District in Dick's previous life, now the Stratholme Military District.
The two defensive lines, one in front and one behind, kept the undead in the deepest part of the city firmly contained within it. After several reconnaissance missions, Dick already knew who commanded those elite undead.
Rivendare... that traitor!
Night fell. With the Fire of Justice on his back and a lantern in his hand, Dick led several young knights on patrol around the perimeter of the defensive line. As they reached a secluded spot, Dick suddenly heard muffled sobbing. He shone his lantern in that direction and saw a stunning beauty in white priest robes, with an extraordinarily voluptuous figure, hiding in a corner of the defensive line with a letter in her hand, her lovely face drenched in tears.
"Ahem... Lady Whitemane, what has upset you?"
Dick looked teasingly at the beautiful woman, whose appearance stirred such pity, only to receive an enormous roll of her eyes.
"Stop pretending, Knight Dick. You truly disgust me!"
The beauty turned and saw Dick's young face, immediately stopped crying, and coldly snorted that taunt at him. Swaying as she walked, she put away the letter in her hand and entered her room.
Dick looked at her perfect figure from behind and shook his head. No wonder that scumbag Renault had killed his own father for this woman. She was simply a heart-bewitching temptress!
But what did that have to do with him?
Dick looked toward the deep darkness within the devastated Stratholme, shrugged, and continued his patrol with the lantern in hand.
The night remained cold and clear, but with life returning to Stratholme, the place was now brightly lit.