The Spider Lord Resistance Army and the Zul'Drak trolls were insignificant threats, mere remnants destined to be swept aside by the Scourge Army once its attention was freed. The true adversary facing the Scourge was the Alliance coalition, spearheaded by the Crusaders.
Intriguingly, both Ner'zhul and Arthas harbored a deep-seated fear of Galen. Ner'zhul, the once-revered orc shaman, now a disembodied soul trapped within the Frozen Throne, owed his current predicament entirely to Galen. It was Galen who had seized Shadowmoon Valley, subjugated the Shadowmoon clan, and conquered Draenor – his triumphs built upon Ner'zhul's failures. The old orc's hatred burned fiercely.
Arthas shared this animosity. Through Frostmourne, he had extinguished the lives of numerous paladins and priests of Lordaeron. Among their dying memories, gleaned from a high-ranking priest in Stratholme, he discovered the pivotal role Galen had played in his own induction into the Silver Hand at the tender age of nineteen. The radiant Holy Light that had filled the audience that day had been for Galen. Furthermore, his own awakening to the Holy Light and subsequent paladinhood had been facilitated by the powerful beacon of holy energy that Galen represented. During his merging with Ner'zhul's memories, Arthas also discovered that the old shaman's vision of the perfect vessel did not ultimately align with himself.
Hatred consumed Arthas's heart – hatred for the paladins who had seemingly deceived him, hatred for all living beings. He craved the annihilation of all life, envisioning Azeroth as a silent realm of the dead. This dark desire fueled his power.
"Arthas…" Ner'zhul's weary voice echoed within Arthas's mind. "Let us cease this internal conflict. Continued fighting will only lead to a breakdown in our command, throwing the Scourge Army into disarray. Ultimately, the Alliance will be the beneficiaries. They desire a Lich King!"
Arthas conceded the wisdom in Ner'zhul's words. Having severed his ties to his living past, the Scourge Army was now his foundation. Even if he ultimately triumphed in this battle for his soul, he could not secure his dominion over Azeroth without the Scourge's legions.
"Very well… cease the war! But I must retain control of my body!" Arthas asserted.
"No, let us merge! Merge into the new Lich King!" Ner'zhul's whisper returned.
If I dominate the body, then what becomes of me? Arthas briefly pondered, but the urgency of the situation allowed no further hesitation. The Alliance army was already deploying siege weaponry, and the Gate of Scourge could fall under their assault at any moment.
"Agreed! Merge!" Arthas mentally reached out, attempting to open his closed soul space.
Ner'zhul cautiously approached. What transpired was not a battle, but a fusion, an intertwining of their very essences. Behind Arthas's closed eyelids, his eyeballs darted rapidly.
"We are one, Arthas," Ner'zhul's voice echoed, "united, we are the Lich King. Ner'zhul and Arthas cease to exist, only a glorious new being remains. With my knowledge, we can…"
Suddenly, Ner'zhul's spectral eyes widened in his soul form, fixated on the spectral blade piercing his very being. The blade was chillingly familiar. It was Arthas. With a swift, decisive motion, Arthas had plunged the spectral, eager Frostmourne directly into Ner'zhul's soul.
Extending his other spectral arm, Arthas embraced the dying orc, whispering into his spectral green ear, "No, you are mistaken. It is not 'we'."
"No one commands me, and no one dictates my actions. I have already extracted everything I require from you."
"Now, this power is mine, and mine alone.There's no strings on me!"
"Only I am the Lich King. And I am ready."
"Hahahaha!" Arthas's voice shifted from a mere whisper to a wild, echoing laugh within the soul space.
The old orc's soul trembled in Arthas's grasp, still reeling from the shock of betrayal. Then, he vanished, completely consumed by Arthas.
Arthas felt a surge of power coursing through him. Ner'zhul had initially strengthened his physical form to the demigod level, but now his soul, too, had shattered its mortal limitations, becoming a demigod of deathly power! However, Arthas was only at the nascent stage of demigodhood. Fully absorbing Ner'zhul's vast power would require further dormancy.
Beyond power, Arthas had also gleaned from Ner'zhul's memories the means to glimpse Maldraxxus in the Shadowlands. It was from Maldraxxus that the old orc had acquired the technology to construct floating cities, and many structures within Icecrown Glacier mirrored this chilling realm of the dead. But Arthas had no time for slumber and the gradual digestion of power while secretly studying advanced undead technology. The immediate threat was the Gate of Scourge.
Movement stirred upon the Frozen Throne, silent for a year. Arthas slowly opened his eyes. A blue, spectral light flickered beneath his eyelids. The icy shell encasing him fractured and peeled away like frozen teardrops. Beneath the ornate helmet that concealed his snow-white hair and pale skin, a smile gradually formed as he fully awakened, more ice fragments falling away with each subtle movement. The icy prison was no longer necessary.
He slowly rose and descended from the Frozen Throne. Opening his mouth, he finally spoke, his voice resonating with newfound power.
"I am here!"
At the Gate of Scourge, the diverse forces of the Alliance were making their final preparations. In the next instant, the Gate of Scourge underwent a dramatic transformation.
The Gate of Scourge opened!
The undead, previously in a silent, defensive posture, surged forth as if suddenly animated! Skeletons clad in tattered remnants of clothing, devoid of rotten flesh, swarmed out in overwhelming numbers, quickly filling the icy field before the Gate and the Alliance's lines. The blue soulfire burning in their eye sockets illuminated the once-dim sky!
Adding to the ground-based assault, dark clouds rapidly approached from the opposite horizon – a vast, overwhelming gargoyle army!
"All troops! Prepare!" Turalyon, the seasoned adjutant of the Alliance forces, immediately issued the alert. "Lordaeron Stratholme battle group, Andorhal battle group, Scarlet Hearthglen battle group, form ranks in a line!"
"Heavy shield formation, prepare to meet the impact!"
The battles to reclaim Lordaeron had provided the Alliance generals with invaluable experience in combating the undead Scourge. A key lesson learned was the efficacy of large-scale engagements. As long as the front ranks held firm, the long-range mages in the rear, particularly fire mages, could leverage their superior firepower to decimate the advancing corpse tide. Paladins were then deployed to specifically neutralize the threat posed by necromancers and death knights to the ordinary soldiers. Coincidentally, the Alliance's current position not only benefited from the support of dwarven artillery but also boasted the magical prowess of the high elves and the Nightborne, two races renowned for their powerful mages