"Mr. Bronzebeard, His Highness is back!"
Brann, whose forehead was bandaged, immediately lost most of his worried expression. He quickly put on his hat and rushed out to greet him.
"Brann? You're hurt too?!" Arthas frowned, "What happened?"
Brann took a breath, ignoring his still aching head, "On our way back, we encountered a demon attack—but thankfully, we repelled him."
Of course, the First Legion also paid a considerable price, with over ten casualties.
Arthas didn't expect a demon to appear after he left. "What are the specifics?"
"The lads were very brave. Most of them only suffered minor injuries, and that demon didn't seem to want to get entangled with us either." Brann grinned wryly; he was also among the injured.
The dwarf spat, clearly holding a grudge against the hateful demon, "That damned Mal'Ganis, he cost us several brave soldiers…"
"Mal'Ganis?"
Arthas's expression faltered for a moment, then he immediately said seriously, "Mal'Ganis is already dead, very thoroughly so. His soul and head are now in my hands."
After he finished speaking, he threw Mal'Ganis's demon head onto the ground. The massive head stunned Brann, who carefully scrutinized it.
Years of archaeological experience allowed Brann to detect subtle differences between Mal'Ganis and the demon they encountered. Brann was dumbfounded, "By the Mountain King above, have these dangerous fellows begun appearing in our world in droves?"
"Not yet, but if we don't eliminate the schemers among these demons, their rampage is only a matter of time."
While conversing with Brann, Arthas looked around but did not see Falric or Thassarian.
"Where are Falric and Thassarian?"
Brann's expression immediately darkened. He sighed, "Falric is severely wounded, and the military doctor is trying to save him, and Thassarian… I'm sorry, that boy covered for us…"
Arthas clenched his fist, then helplessly released it. "Where is Thassarian's body?"
Brann led Arthas to a small room where the bodies of the fallen soldiers were laid out. They were covered with white cloths, and on top of the cloths were some of their personal belongings.
"Thassarian… he went to the snowy plains to find you after he learned you went to challenge Mal'Ganis alone."
The brand-new major's insignia still looked as it did when Thassarian first received it. Arthas punched the nearby wall, and cracks appeared on the surface from his heavy blow.
"This fool! Is Dragonblight a place he can set foot in?! His recklessness not only killed him but also implicated other soldiers of the First Legion!" There was a hint of disappointment in Arthas's tone.
Thassarian was indeed a brave soldier, and he always remembered his father's advice, but he still made a mistake that most young people make: he was too reckless.
Arthas, of course, knew that Thassarian came to find him not only to confirm his safety but also to remove the regret in his heart—he was the only one left from the Thirteenth Battalion, and his hatred for the Dreadlords overwhelmed his reason.
Perhaps for Thassarian, dying gloriously on the battlefield was far better than surviving alone in the army and steadily rising through the ranks.
Arthas believed he also bore responsibility. He should not have allowed Thassarian, who had only been recuperating for a week, to accompany him north. He underestimated the young man's desire for revenge.
He promoted Thassarian to major and assigned him new tasks precisely to help him find the will to live, to move past the painful memories of the Thirteenth Battalion incident.
However, this newly promoted major still lacked understanding of the Burning Legion's demons. Mal'Ganis's behavior was completely abnormal for a Dreadlord, because he was trying to lure Arthas into a trap.
To make Mal'Ganis believe that he had "fallen into his trap," Arthas specifically gathered his army and rushed to Northrend. Besides consolidating the defenses of Northrend's key ports, it was also to deceive Mal'Ganis.
Mal'Ganis was convinced everything was under his control, only to lose his life. Thassarian, facing a high-ranking demon he barely understood, didn't even realize he was being tracked.
On Azeroth, strength is not the key to victory; caution is.
Arthas sighed deeply, walked out of the room, and sat on the steps outside the door. "Brann."
"I'm here, lad, I know you're hurting… I'm also at fault, I should have kept an eye on that reckless boy." Brann leaned against the wall and sat down, his voice hoarse.
"Thassarian's sister and mother are still waiting in Tirisfal for their brother and son to come home—perhaps I shouldn't have brought him to Northrend in the first place."
Arthas shook his head to himself, then continued, "Brann, the true culprit behind the Scourge's rampage has been killed by me."
"Well done. Perhaps this can comfort the lads' spirits in the afterlife." Brann tried to console Arthas, "You don't need to blame yourself too much, you've done your best."
"But I had hoped to do more—" Arthas composed himself. Thassarian made him feel as if he was looking at his own immature self, and the outcome of such immaturity is often tragic.
The two remained silent for a long time, until Arthas finally broke the somewhat melancholic atmosphere. "These soldiers, I will have them temporarily 'remain' in Northrend."
Brann paused, "Why? Won't you take their bodies back to their homelands?"
"That's something we'll have to ask for their own wishes." Arthas said something that puzzled Brann, then stood up.
"I need to return to the Eastern Kingdoms quickly. The entire affair isn't completely over yet; there are still several Dreadlords like Mal'Ganis scheming in the shadows."
Arthas stared at Brann, "As for you, Brann, I suggest you return to Ironforge to recuperate for a while before venturing out again."
"I think so too, but after this incident, I might not want to come back to this sorrowful place for a long time."
...…
"Elder Hamuul, that concludes the full content of our alliance." Jaina put down the magical document in her hand and said with a smile, "You also have a copy of this document. We hired goblins to translate it into a standard Tauren version."
Hamuul's expression was unreadable, neither moved nor indifferent, as his thick fingers rubbed the fine paper of the document. His mind, however, was still pondering the terms he had just heard.
In fact, the alliance terms offered by the Alliance were incredibly generous, so generous that Hamuul found it almost unbelievable.
The humans promised to help the Tauren expel the Centaur, not only with supplies but also with manpower. At the same time, they also proposed to the Tauren a permanent solution to the problems caused by the Centaur.
This, of course, did not mean the complete annihilation of the Centaur race, but rather finding a sufficiently peaceful dwelling place for the Tauren.
And all the Tauren needed to do was fulfill the normal requirements and promises of an alliance—Hamuul compared the document several more times, confirming that he was not mistaken.
Finally, Hamuul asked the biggest question in his heart: "Forgive my bluntness, outsiders, why are you helping our tribe so greatly, even seeming overly… selfless?"
Jaina's smile brightened. Unlike Varian, who stood silently beside her with a stern face, she was happy to explain to Hamuul.
But before that, the female mage clapped her hands, and the guards and other personnel quickly exited the meeting room, leaving only Hamuul and his personal guards, along with Jaina and Varian.
After doing all this, Jaina said seriously, "As you might suspect, we are not asking for nothing, but what we truly need is merely the friendship of the Tauren tribe."
"But you are offering far too much. We fear that what we gain this way might not be true 'friendship'."
"This is because the situation has become so dire that helping you is tantamount to helping ourselves."
Jaina paused slightly, and under Hamuul's puzzled gaze, she continued the topic.
"You, far away in Kalimdor, might not be aware that just over ten years ago, the Eastern Kingdoms faced the greatest catastrophe in thousands of years—the orc invasion.
Although the Alliance worked together and finally defeated the orcs, what we didn't expect was that the orcs, whom we considered a great enemy, were merely small pawns of a dark force in the void.
The true enemy is still plotting something far greater behind the scenes."
Jaina tapped her staff on the ground and declared, "That is our planet."
"The orcs are merely the vanguard of the Burning Legion. At their core, they are ignorant wretches manipulated by demons. Our true threat remains hidden in the endless cosmos."
"Burning Legion?…"
This strange yet familiar term gave Hamuul a peculiar sense of déjà vu, and Jaina's subsequent words made the Tauren understand its true meaning.
"Perhaps it sounds unfamiliar to you, but… regarding the secret history of the War of the Ancients ten thousand years ago, I believe any ancient race in Kalimdor should have some knowledge passed down."
"The terrifying demon Legion that caused the Well of Eternity to explode and led to the cataclysmic Sundering of ancient Kalimdor… they have returned."
Accompanied by the proper noun from the ancient Elven language, the old Tauren's memories were finally stirred. It was an ancient legend from the Tauren tribe:
Legend says that ten thousand years ago, the world was covered by green clouds, and emerald meteors rained down from the sky, bringing suffering and death to the living beings on the earth. Even the earth mother wept for it.
The beings of Azeroth rose in resistance, including several Tauren clans. Through the combined efforts of one local power after another, the champions of Azeroth paid a heavy price but finally drove the terrifying enemy out of their world.
However, that did not signify an end, but the beginning of a nightmare. One day, the Legion of destruction, burning with green fel fire, would descend again!