Fairbreeze Village was an ordinary village within Quel'Thalas, but now it had become a vast military camp. The ranger and mage forces were putting their camps in order, while squads of elite rangers received their assignments and dispersed across the Ghostlands, sending a steady stream of intelligence back to headquarters.
Dick stood waiting outside an ornate command tent decorated with the insignia of a flaming phoenix. He did not understand why Sylvanas, whom he had never met before, had suddenly summoned him, but his journey from the edge of the Ghostlands had shown him just how quickly Arthas was advancing.
In a single night, all seventeen graveyards in the Ghostlands had been dug up. Under the command of death knights and cursed mages, the army of fragile risen had overrun three ranger outposts overnight. All 140 rangers and mages had died. The speed of this invasion had already alarmed Silvermoon City.
Sylvanas had never expected the situation to deteriorate so badly in just one night after their encounter. The situation in the Ghostlands was worsening rapidly, and now the burden had fallen on her shoulders.
"Sir paladin, the general is waiting for you. Please follow me!"
Dick had waited less than ten minutes after arriving from the Ghostlands when one of the Rangers, carrying a longbow on his back, approached him. Dick tethered his warhorse and followed the expressionless Ranger into the command tent, only to find an alluring figure standing a short distance in front of him.
Sylvanas probably had no idea what effect her outfit would have on Dick. In truth, she did not care, either. But Dick felt his breathing grow heavier for a moment, and only when the energy of the Holy Light flowed through his body did he calm down.
She certainly lived up to her name as the future Banshee Queen!
"You're Dick Tang? The knight commander from Lordaeron?"
Sylvanas turned and looked Dick up and down. He, in turn, studied the queen who had left such a great name in history. In truth, the moment that highly recognizable face appeared before him, all the allure and wonder vanished.
Dick had seen that face hundreds of times. Although this was his first time seeing her in reality, he no longer felt any stir in his heart.
"Yes, General Sylvanas. I am the commander of the Stratholme Regiment, High Knight Dick Tang!"
Neither servile nor overbearing, Dick tapped his fist against his chest. His composure surprised Sylvanas, who had been watching him all along. This was the first human she had seen who was not captivated by her appearance.
But the fighting was intense, and the general had no time to dwell on such matters. She looked at Dick gravely.
"I hear you came to warn Quel'Thalas? You brought news about the undead?"
Dick shrugged.
"I think my warning is unnecessary now. Arthas has proven through his actions that his target is Quel'Thalas! Of course, I know his real target is the Sunwell, but I imagine you wouldn't believe me even if I told you, would you?"
"Of course not."
Sylvanas narrowed her eyes and spoke in an offhand tone.
"As long as the defensive runes remain, not a single undead creature can set foot in Quel'Thalas. But as you've seen, Arthas is invading the Ghostlands. Quel'Thalas and the high elves will not surrender a single piece of our territory. This is our first time dealing with the undead, so I need a deputy familiar with the situation. You're well suited!"
"Defensive runes! Those defensive runes again!"
Dick shook his head. He simply did not know what to say to these stubborn elves. They put blind faith in the power of their defensive runes, and that would ultimately be their downfall. History had already proven it.
Dick did not want the tragedy to repeat itself, but from the look of things, Sylvanas was not the clearheaded one. So he firmly rejected her offer.
"I'm sorry, General Sylvanas, but I have more important things to do. I don't have time to waste here with you!"
With that, Dick turned to leave, but the proud Sylvanas mistook his words for fear.
"Coward!"
Sylvanas's voice grew colder still as she watched Dick turn away.
"In just one night and one morning, three ranger outposts have fallen, and 140 elves of Quel'Thalas have died in the attacks. Not even their remains survived, and even their souls have dissipated. I will not allow my people to suffer such a nightmare. If you're afraid of getting blood on you, get out of Quel'Thalas. This is no weak human kingdom! We will not let your fallen prince run rampant across our lands."
Dick tilted his head, his formerly calm face now covered in frost.
"You call me a coward? You want to stop Arthas? You alone?... You have no idea what kind of enemy you're fighting, you stupid, arrogant elves. You have no idea what awaits you! I won't take part in a war that's certain to be lost. Goodbye!"
Dick swept aside the black cloak behind him and put on his helmet. But just as he was leaving the tent, he spoke to Sylvanas again.
"Arthas couldn't possibly have raised the undead from seventeen graveyards in one night by himself, so I suspect he deployed flying troops such as gargoyles this time. If I were you, I'd search every inch of the skies carefully. And your holy water reserves are too small, and you don't have enough priests..."
"Get out!"
His well-meant advice received an unpleasant response. Dick left the command tent without looking back and untied his warhorse's reins. He took one last look at the elven soldiers, now fully mobilized, shook his head, and urged his horse toward the Ghostlands.
There was nothing more to see. This army was doomed! Just as in history, the proud elves knew too little about the undead. Not only had they failed to conscript priests and Quel'Thalas's few paladins into the army, but even their supplies of strategic resources such as holy water were woefully inadequate.
The two sides would wage a large-scale war in the Ghostlands. As more soldiers fell on both sides, the undead forces would grow ever stronger. Once the mages exhausted their magical power, defeat and death would be their only path.
Thinking back on it now, Sylvanas had probably died in this great battle as well.
But Dick no longer had any fondness for this overbearing female elf. When the cold queen from the game appeared in reality, she was nothing more than an obnoxious ice queen.
Still, Dick had not actually lied to Sylvanas. He really did have something very important to do. After riding hard for three hours, he finally returned to Deatholme in the Ghostlands. Instead of entering the town, however, he circled outside it and eventually discovered a temporary camp in the woodland nearby.
Those were his only reinforcements in Quel'Thalas: the elven paladins of the Order of the Silver Hand.
Before entering Quel'Thalas, Dick had written a letter to the Order of the Silver Hand, including a request for aid. There were few elven paladins in the order, as the high elves firmly believed in the power of magic and had few priests, let alone paladins. Yet upon receiving Dick's letter, Dathrohan, the current Commander of the Order of the Silver Hand, had immediately sent all the serving elven paladins back.
Dick dismounted and walked into the woods. Seeing a familiar figure sitting on the outskirts of the camp, he called out.
"Myra!"
"Who's there?"
The elven paladin Mael-Dawnblade, who carried the Blood-red Greatsword on his back, glanced over his shoulder. He visibly relaxed when he saw Dick. The paladin, who had inherited the elves' height and looks, strode forward and gave Dick a warm embrace.
Myra was another of Uther's disciples, reportedly a high elf orphan. After Uther adopted him, he had studied the ways of the Holy Light ever since and was now a high knight.
He was also the leader of the elven paladins who had joined the Order of the Silver Hand for various reasons. Myra knew that Dick had given his mentor Uther the chance to preserve his soul, so he was very warm toward Dick as well.
After Dick had sat in the camp for a few minutes, the other elven paladins, having received Myra's message, returned from outside the camp one after another. There were thirty-seven in total. Before setting out, they had received orders that Dick, the Fire of Justice, would be their temporary commander.
"I'll get straight to the point, brothers!"
Dick stood and addressed the paladins watching him.
"I'm sure you already know that bastard Arthas has reached his claws toward Quel'Thalas. This is your homeland, and I believe you're willing to give everything for it! But the Silver Hand is still resisting the undead in Lordaeron, so we're isolated and without support. We can only rely on ourselves!"
"We could actually join forces with Silvermoon City. King Anasterian is a wise mage. He..."
Looking toward Quel'Thalas, Myra offered Dick a suggestion, but Dick interrupted him and looked at him gravely.
"My brother, I've already tried. But your Ranger-General, Sylvanas Windrunner, refuses to listen. She intends to lead the Ranger Corps into a large-scale war against the undead in the Ghostlands. She isn't even willing to let me remain in Quel'Thalas!"
"Has Windrunner gone mad?!"
A young elven paladin shouted in agitation.
"Conventional warfare can't deal with large numbers of undead. They'll only become recruits for Arthas! Only large-scale attacks with the Holy Light and holy water can suppress them!"
"Yes! Bo'en, you're right! I suggested they conscript priests and prepare holy water, but it seems General Sylvanas is unwilling to take my advice..."
Dick shrugged, but before he could finish, the sound of a quest being triggered rang out in his mind.
"Beep... Quest triggered: Die on Another Day!" "Arthas's target is the Sunwell. Until he achieves that goal, he will not stop his slaughter, but perhaps we can try to slow and delay his march of destruction." "Description: Attempt to save Sylvanas Windrunner. Note: This quest is the second stage of the major quest-The Halt of History's Wheels. It cannot be abandoned or refused. Failure will result in the failure of the major quest!"
"Whew..."
Dick drew a deep breath. He clenched his fists, then relaxed them. Looking at the paladins before him, he could no longer say the words he had prepared. A few seconds later, he spoke again, expressionless.
"Brothers, I know this will be difficult for us, but whether out of personal vengeance or shared outrage, I cannot stand by and watch Quel'Thalas suffer the same fate as Lordaeron. So, brothers... let's act. Go to Deatholme and recruit priests and soldiers willing to join us, and prepare holy water. We'll join the war too. At the very least... at the very least, we must save Sylvanas. Only she can change Sunstrider's decision at a time like this!"
After speaking, Dick swept his gaze across the eyes of all the elven paladins.
"This mission will be very difficult. I don't have even the slightest confidence in it, so I won't force you to join this journey into mortal danger. But... there are some things we cannot leave undone. So... I'll give you ten minutes to think. In ten minutes, we join this war!"
With that, Dick turned and left the camp. When he returned ten minutes later, all thirty-seven stood before him, not one missing. Mael-Dawnblade stood opposite him. Seeing Dick's smile, Myra drew the weapon from his back with a swish.
"Gentlemen, draw your swords! For Quel'Thalas!"