"It's you?!"
Ogrim had considered a myriad of possibilities for what the Lich King might be, but he had never connected him to the Prince of Lordaeron.
"It seems your ritual went well; you didn't turn into a mindless zombie."
Arthas glanced at Ogrim, his words echoing Sir Lothar's.
"So, my current state is thanks to you?" Ogrim's war boots clanged on the hard, cold saronite ground, producing resounding tremors.
The orc, who was more than a head taller than Arthas, stood before the Prince, but Arthas would not be intimidated by a mere difference in size.
"Has no one taught you to kneel before a king, orc?"
Ogrim's eyes bulged, and just as he was about to erupt in anger, Arthas's spiritual pressure made him feel as if he was shouldering a mountain. His knees buckled, and he nearly fell to the ground.
His robust body trembled continuously under the pressure, but he never fully knelt. However, after Arthas took over as the Lich King, almost no one could escape his suppression over the undead.
His heavy plate armor kneepads slammed hard onto the ground, forcibly indenting it. Ogrim barely managed to support himself, maintaining a submissive posture on one knee.
"You… you resurrected me just to humiliate me?"
Ogrim found this utterly unbearable. orcs could accept death, but not having their honor stripped away by their enemies.
Arthas turned his back, watching the magical ritual in the center of the hall, and said calmly, "You are a sinner, and I have given you a chance for atonement."
"What sin have I committed?! You and I simply had different stances!"
"I'm not talking about the mistakes committed against me or humanity; those are for the orcs to repay." Arthas leisurely examined his gauntlet. "Your atonement is for Azeroth."
Ogrim was now seething with rage and couldn't listen to Arthas's words. He struggled to stand up from the ground, but he felt as if he was being held down by a Gronn, unable to move.
"Do you think the orcs have escaped everything?" Arthas's voice was like a death god's inquiry, striking Ogrim's heart.
"Gul'dan is dead, we just wanted a place to live, and most orcs are also victims, innocent—!!" Ogrim argued vehemently.
"Innocent? Heh heh, when you invaded Alliance territories, did you consider that the women and children you slaughtered were innocent? When you massacred the Draenei, did you think about the innocents you used as sacrifices?"
Arthas's expression was stern. "Not a single orc is innocent."
Ogrim was surprised that Arthas knew what had happened in Draenor, and also somewhat speechless; Arthas's words struck at the orcs' raw nerve.
When he was a chieftain, he could ignore the blood debts on his hands, but after he had died once, those events seemed like endless nightmares, echoing in his mind.
"Everything is a bloody truth. No matter how you try to excuse yourselves, the orcs' honor has long been a joke. You are merely pathetic worms enslaved by demons."
"The countless crimes you committed in Shattrath, in Karabor, in Stormwind, in Draenor and the Eastern Kingdoms—do you think fleeing will make everything end?"
"Do you think evasion will make the hatred disappear?! Answer me, Ogrim Doomhammer!"
"I would have loved to execute every orc I saw in the internment camps, rather than mercifully granting you a second chance."
Every word from Arthas was like a heavy hammer striking Ogrim's heart. The proud orc finally bowed his head. "I… I can pledge allegiance to you, but please spare my kin. They… they are no longer the beasts controlled by demon blood from back then."
"It's not that simple, Ogrim, it's not," Arthas said indifferently. He was a true Lich King, a ruthless undead monarch.
"Because of you, the Burning Legion has set its sights on our world. If you still wish to reclaim your honor, then hunt down those vile demons, instead of casually throwing away your life in some battle."
After concluding their conversation, Arthas ignored the silent Ogrim and instructed his grand steward, Anub'arak.
"Anub'arak, take this Death Knight to cool down. He still needs some time before joining us."
After the Crypt Lord led Ogrim away, Anduin Lothar rubbed his nose. "Ahem, you seem quite displeased with the orcs."
"Sir Lothar, I imagine you don't have much affection for them either." Arthas sighed. "If our high-level combat forces weren't so scarce, I wouldn't be willing to resurrect a pure orc like Ogrim."
"I used to be. Stormwind was, after all, destroyed by them. But… as you say, we were also at fault—Medivh, he…"
As Sir Lothar spoke, he recalled those sad past events. The Death Knight shook his head helplessly.
If Medivh hadn't been corrupted by a fragment of Sargeras's soul, no one would have been able to open the astral portal from Draenor to Azeroth.
"Enough. Grieving over the past won't solve problems. I said those things to Ogrim just to make him face reality," Arthas patted Sir Lothar's shoulder. "Unless absolutely necessary, I don't want to use forceful means to control a Death Knight."
"Even as an undead monarch, you still possess the paladin's mercy," Sir Lothar quipped. "And don't call me Sir Lothar anymore; that was from my living days. Just call me Lothar."
"I haven't abandoned the Light. Everything has two sides."
Arthas refocused his attention on the ritual. Although he had completed his part, the performance of the elven mage spirits indicated that this ritual was not easy to perform.
Sir Lothar walked over to Arthas, marveling, "Such methods are enough for Dalaran to dispatch mage troops to hunt you down a thousand times over."
"Aren't you also one of the wanted now?" Arthas pouted. "The Lich resurrection ritual is far more complex than that of a Death Knight. To ensure they possess powerful spellcasting abilities, a sufficiently high-level energy source must be found."
At the very center of the ritual array lay the corpse of Archmage Kel'Thuzad. His soul had already been extracted and preserved in a meticulously crafted phylactery.
As long as the phylactery remained intact, merely destroying a Lich's physical body could not kill it. After its Lich body was destroyed, its soul would return to the phylactery, awaiting its next resurrection.
However, the energy and effort required for the first transformation were unimaginable. A better method was to use a sufficiently powerful energy source or a ley line node to complete the ritual.
Unfortunately, Arthas could no longer directly use the elves' Sunwell to complete the resurrection ritual; otherwise, the elves would surely fight him to the death.
A Sunwell corrupted by death energy would transmit a fatal influence to every elf who absorbed its magic, indirectly shaking the elves' foundation.
During their conversation, the ritual's light suddenly dimmed. Arthas shook his head with a hint of helplessness.
"Alex, still not working?"
This was Alex, an Archmage spirit responsible for the resurrection ritual. The elven mage looked ashamed. "Apologies, Your Majesty. The ley line node in Icecrown Glacier is too chaotic under the influence of the death-life boundary. It's difficult for us to gather magic of the required standard."
"Alright, I understand. It seems we'll just have to find another way."
"Alas… if the Well of Eternity were still here, just a small vial of its water would allow me to easily complete this ritual." The Archmage seemed to be bothered by his failure; it wasn't a lack of skill, but rather that magic gathered by human effort alone could hardly meet the ritual's requirements.
Water from the Well of Eternity?
Arthas mused, "Wait, Alex, if it's an energy source assimilated with Well of Eternity water, could it satisfy the ritual's needs?"
"In that case, a much larger quantity would be needed, as a derivative magic source is far inferior to the true Well of Eternity."
"Can you give me an approximate quantity needed?"
Alex closed his eyes in thought for a moment, then spoke, "Give me ten crystal vials of this type of well water, and the ritual will certainly be completed."
Arthas nodded. Ten vials wasn't a large quantity, and for creating a sufficiently powerful Lich, this cost wasn't high.
With his influence, approaching Kael'thas should resolve the immediate problem, but this also reminded Arthas that he needed to quickly find an energy source that the Scourge could use.
While magic corrupted by death energy was more than enough for resurrecting the undead, to ensure the purity of the ritual and the quality of the resurrected, a high-purity energy source was still preferable…
Kel'Thuzad's soul was sealed within the phylactery, and Arthas had not awakened him. He wondered what the devout "seeker of truth" would think when he discovered that his superior had changed.
Leaving the ritual hall, Arthas and Sir Lothar walked along the main path of Icecrown Citadel. Sir Lothar asked, "What do you plan to do next?"
"There's still a lot to do. The Eastern Kingdoms still have trouble waiting for me to sort out, not to mention Kalimdor across the sea."
Although he didn't know the exact movements of the Dreadlords, Arthas was fairly certain that Tichondrius and his companions had noticed the activity in Northrend, but they hadn't made any moves, which meant they surely had more important matters at hand.
The Lich King was originally one of the Burning Legion's pawns for conquering Azeroth. The only reason the Dreadlords would abandon this pawn was likely that they had already grasped the key factors for the Legion's direct arrival.
"I'll need to trouble you to oversee the Scourge here for a while. I must return to the Eastern Kingdoms to handle matters." Arthas made his arrangements. This was also why he had sought out Sir Lothar; no one was more suited to be a commander and leader than him.
Sir Lothar joked, "I didn't expect to get such a high-ranking position right after taking office—what do you need me to do?"
"Oversee the movements of the lesser undead, don't let their instincts cause us too much trouble, and supervise the construction progress of the Icecrown Glacier project."
"In a while, Naxxramas, the floating fortress sent to the Eastern Kingdoms to prepare for plague release, will return. We'll cleanse it of any Lich King loyalists who refuse to submit to us."
Sir Lothar roughly understood Arthas's deployment. All of this was for the development of the Scourge. They already had an unparalleled advantage in numbers; now they needed to bolster their upper-tier forces.
The former Grand Marshal didn't ask about other matters. He also knew that now was not the time for the Scourge to intervene in Azeroth's affairs. They had to use this time to develop as quickly as possible to face future crises.
The Helm of Domination was left by Arthas on the Frozen Throne and sealed in a special way, making it a signal tower. Although he wasn't wearing it, he could still use some of the Lich King's powers through this link.
After a moment of hesitation, Sir Lothar still asked Arthas what he planned to do with Ogrim.
"Deal with him? I already have, otherwise I wouldn't have resurrected him—he and you are old rivals, you should know how to talk to him."
"I need an emissary who can bring death to the Burning Legion, not a disheartened old orc."
Arthas candidly pushed the responsibility onto Sir Lothar, leaving gracefully amidst the Grand Marshal's pained expression. But just before his figure left the fortress, Arthas slowly uttered a sentence.
"I am sorry, Grand Marshal. Sooner or later, I will make everyone understand."
Sir Lothar's smile vanished, and he became serious. "There's nothing to apologize for. This is my choice as well—all for Azeroth."
After handling the last of the trivial matters, Arthas's mission in Icecrown Glacier came to an end. He now had to return to the Eastern Kingdoms to track down the Dreadlords. Avoiding a second invasion by the Burning Legion would be the best outcome.
But he felt that this matter might not be so easy. What could be so important that the Dreadlords would rather abandon the Scourge and hide?
Mounting Invincible and tossing Kel'Thuzad's phylactery into his spatial pouch, Arthas embarked on his return journey to Daggercap Bay, alone, just as he had arrived.
Darkness under the light had begun to breed, but when both belonged to one person's hand, life and death led to the same destination.