Arthas sat on the Frozen Throne, his right hand clenched against his cheek, leaning on the armrest of the throne, while Frostmourne rested by his leg, digesting the large wave of souls it had just absorbed.
Not long after, Anub'arak led a large group of high-ranking undead onto the Frozen Throne. Some of them looked indifferent, some were filled with confusion, and some others harbored the same hatred for Arthas.
"Master, you have succeeded."
Anub'arak stepped forward and saluted Arthas. This Crypt Lord was completely subdued by Arthas's power.
The Lich King had easily destroyed the Nerubian kingdom that had lasted tens of thousands of years, and now he was slain by Arthas. Although Anub'arak was no longer truly 'alive', Anub'arak did not want to simply rest in peace like this.
His people were still in crisis. Although the Scourge would no longer attack Azjol-Nerub, the tunnels the Nerubian dug when they fled delved deep into the kingdom's long-abandoned sections.
Those were ancient altars from the time when the Nerubian worshipped the Old Gods in ancient times, and in Northrend, there was an Old God sealed in an eternal prison—Yogg-Saron, the God of Ten Thousand Mouths.
But the cunning Old Gods had found a loophole in that prison, and his evil influence began to spread anew beneath Northrend.
The full body of an Old Gods was enormous; their bodies were like mountains and continents. Although they were sealed underground by the Titan Guardians, his tentacles had already taken root deep in the earth.
Anub'arak did not want his race, after finally escaping the madness of the Old Gods, to be enslaved by him again. Not all descendants of the Nerubian were willing to serve the Old Gods once more.
That dark and mad era sent shivers down one's spine just thinking about it. Their 'God' never showed mercy to his subordinates; the Nerubian and his twisted flesh creations were merely tools and consumables to him.
The best way was to pledge allegiance to Arthas, the current Lich King.
And due to the special nature of the undead, the Old Gods' corruption would progress very slowly on them, or even be unable to corrupt them at all.
This was also why the Lich King dared to use saronite, a mineral corrupted by the Old Gods, to forge the weapons and equipment of the Scourge, and even to build city walls and fortresses with this cold metal that emitted a strange influence.
Arthas nodded to Anub'arak, then glanced at the other high-ranking undead. Some of them seemed very agitated, clearly afraid that Arthas would enslave them like Ner'zhul had.
"It seems Ner'zhul's actions have made you angry and afraid?" Arthas spoke first.
"With all due respect the Lich King should be completely overthrown. You should not absorb his power." A Highborne ghost stepped forward, voicing his concerns.
"That's right."
"You should give up this power."
"We should be free, we should return to peace!"
Many undead began to echo the Highborne ghost, thinking he made sense, trying to persuade Arthas to abandon the Lich King's power. But not everyone spoke with good intentions.
Some of them also coveted the Lich King's great power.
Anub'arak immediately drew a clear line, separating his subordinates who were willing to submit to him and Arthas from these other undead. Some undead were still slightly confused, and the scene quickly split into three factions.
"Heh!"
With a soft laugh from Arthas, all the undead fell silent: it wasn't that they didn't want to speak, but that Arthas had directly sealed their right to speak.
This was the Frozen Throne, where the Lich King's power was strongest; no other undead were allowed to cause trouble.
"If you are worried that I will abuse this power, then you can take that worry to your graves." Arthas's expression was cold. "Ner'zhul is dead. The Scourge is about to be reorganized. Instead of discarding this power, it's better to use it for a righteous cause."
The undead who were unwilling to have their free will restricted again began to grow uneasy. They feared Arthas would act the same way as Ner'zhul.
Unexpectedly, Arthas grasped Frostmourne, and a tremendous surge of soul energy erupted, forcefully tearing a rift between reality and the Shadowlands.
"Those who wish to find peace, once you enter, you will gain everything you desire."
The undead exchanged glances. A small portion of the dead were truly exhausted; they could feel the Shadowlands calling to them and knew Arthas had not lied. They quickly entered the rift, returning to death.
But most of them were unwilling to enter that rift.
Arthas had anticipated this situation: these undead were either forcibly resurrected by Ner'zhul or were already undead and enslaved, but they clearly belonged to the type who hadn't lived enough.
Although their current state wasn't truly 'living', they could at least walk freely in the world and fulfill their obsessions and wishes from before death.
So they were unwilling to simply return to the Shadowlands. Their current undead state was, to them, a peculiar 'blessing'.
"What's wrong? The self-proclaimed righteous ones can't speak anymore? Haven't I generously granted you peace? Why are you still lingering here, unwilling to move?"
"I don't care what schemes you have. You can choose to leave here, leave the Scourge, travel the continent, and fulfill your wishes. I will not stop you."
"But in that case, your life and death will be your own concern. You should know that the continent currently does not welcome undead like you."
"If you stay and wish to cooperate with the Scourge to reshape Northrend's chaotic order of life and death, and secretly protect this world, I am willing to accept you and offer you refuge."
"As for your worries, save them for the forces that threaten the safety of our world..."
"Remember, although you are undead, your destruction and continued existence are still tied to the survival of Azeroth. Whether you wish to be a lonely wandering spirit or remain as an unnamed Guardian, it's up to you."
As Arthas's voice faded, Frostmourne suddenly floated up, and the soul fires of a few ill-intentioned undead flickered weakly before extinguishing. Their bodies fell to the ground, with no chance of resurrection.
"Of course, those who still harbor restless thoughts will be unhesitatingly purged by the Scourge."
At this point, Arthas lifted his suppression of the undead. They could speak again, but they remained silent, unsure of what to say.
Finally, it was the Highborne ghost who spoke, "Respected Lich King, may I ask what you intend to do with this Invincible army of undead?"
"I have made it very clear. You elves should know in your hearts that it was a problem you brought upon yourselves." Arthas said, feigning impatience, "Or have you forgotten the tragedy of ten thousand years ago after you died?"
The elf Archmage's ghost, already pale and transparent, became even paler. He stammered, "The Burning Legion... they, they're back?"
"Ner'zhul was their vanguard. The proof is that five Dreadlords also came to Azeroth with Ner'zhul."
The elf ghost was dumbfounded. He had thought those few demons were also unlucky souls enslaved by the Lich King, but it seemed they were at least the Lich King's equals, or even superiors.
This elf had not directly participated in the War of the Ancients ten thousand years ago, but that did not prevent him from conducting some research on demons during his time as a ghost.
Although the Legion had been repelled at a heavy cost, a large number of low and mid-level demons remained in the real world, and occasionally, high-ranking demons could still be seen active.
After a moment, the elf ghost sighed and bowed to Arthas, "I am willing to lead the souls of Shandralar to follow you, at least... at least to make some small amends to Azeroth."
"What about the others?"
Arthas's voice was like a final verdict in a courtroom, forcing the wavering undead to make a choice.
Ultimately, most of the undead chose to remain with the Scourge, while some chose to leave this sorrowful place; they were tired of fighting and wanted to find a place to hide and live alone.
When all the undead had left to reorganize the Scourge's order, Arthas called out to Anub'arak, "Are these all the generals of the Scourge left?"
Anub'arak replied, "Yes, Ner'zhul did not have time to resurrect too many high-ranking undead. To ensure that the resurrected undead retain or even surpass their strength from life requires complex rituals."
That was true. Arthas found the small portion of Ner'zhul's soul fragments from the souls Frostmourne had just absorbed. Although most of his soul was completely annihilated, some remained.
To Arthas's pleasant surprise, these memories contained the runic techniques Ner'zhul used as a shaman of the Shadowmoon Clan.
This unique technique allowed those not skilled in spellcasting to easily use spells, even if limited to certain ranges, which was still much better than being unable to cast spells at all.
Based on this set of runes, Arthas could derive a set of runes compatible with necromancy, darkness, and even the Holy Light. This was simply the foundation for him to build Azeroth's dark army!
Ner'zhul was killed by him, and he didn't even have time to create the Scourge's two most powerful troop types: Death Knights and Liches.
One type was a relentless vanguard, an unstoppable, merciless blade, while the other consisted of masters proficient in necromancy and frost magic.
And these were among the few troop types that Arthas was satisfied with.
The future enemies of the Scourge were the Old Gods and the Burning Legion. The number of their cannon fodder was no less than, if not superior to, that of the undead.
The Nerubian who served the Old Gods, and the Burning Legion's endless demon army, their speed of troop generation was no less inferior to that of the undead.
Especially demons, their soul characteristics made it extremely difficult for them to be transformed into undead for the Scourge to command. If only their flesh was used to create low-level undead cannon fodder, it wouldn't play a crucial role.
The Scourge was an Invincible existence against other forces in Azeroth. The undead didn't need logistics, didn't need rest, and didn't know fear. They never suffered morale collapse and could even sustain themselves through battle, using the bodies and remains of their enemies to strengthen their own power.
But the cannon fodder of the Old Gods and the Legion generally had these characteristics, and their individual combat capabilities were far superior to those of low-level Ghouls and skeletons.
A common Demon Guard could easily slay a dozen undead cannon fodder, and their numbers were no less than the Scourge's.
So Arthas's goal was to create a more elite and top-tier undead force. They would be the sharp blade of him, the Lich King, and the Guardians in Azeroth's shadows.
Death Knights and Liches were part of his vision, and most undead, apart from stitched abominations and constructs, generally followed the rule that the stronger they were in life, the stronger they were in death.
Finding sufficiently powerful vessels and resurrecting them was also a troublesome task, but Arthas had already begun planning these matters, and some had already shown 'results'.
Furthermore, there was still time for the Scourge to continue developing. As for the Ghouls and skeleton soldiers, they could all be sent to the mines and forests of Northrend to mine and log.
Anyway, they could work twenty-four hours a day without needing rest or food, and the endless death energy from Icecrown Glacier alone was enough for them to consume.
The undead kingdom envisioned by Ner'zhul and the Dreadlords had already taken shape. Arthas naturally and smoothly inherited all of Ner'zhul's legacy, and the entire Icecrown Glacier became the center of death's power.
The only thing that gave Arthas a headache was that the Dreadlords, except for Mal'Ganis, seemed to have evaporated. They didn't even care about the 'transfer of power' in Northrend, and none of them showed up throughout the entire process.
Nor were their traces found in the undead camps where Dreadlords had once been stationed. They were like stones sinking into the sea, completely gone.
But Arthas had good reason to believe that these demons were hiding in some corner of Azeroth, secretly plotting to open the gate for the Burning Legion to invade Azeroth.
He could probably guess where the Dreadlords' possible targets were: to summon the Legion, there must be a sufficiently powerful magical source as support, and also ritual items of sufficient caliber.
And places that met these two criteria, in the entire Eastern Kingdoms, were only two: Dalaran and Quel'Thalas.
Dalaran was fine; Arthas's spies had already infiltrated this magical city and were keeping a close watch to prevent demonic intrusion, but even so, it couldn't be considered foolproof.
After all, Dreadlords were known for manipulating mortal civilizations. Who knew which kind and knowledgeable Archmage might be one of them in disguise.
Not to mention Quel'Thalas; Arthas couldn't manage that place for now. The elves themselves were still embroiled in complex political struggles, and their extreme xenophobia prevented Arthas from inserting his own people there.
Secretly pondering his next plans, Arthas remained on the Frozen Throne, both digesting the benefits brought by his battle with Ner'zhul and patiently waiting.
Waiting for some special 'people'.