Sensing Lothar pass through the black mist-shrouded portal, Kel'Thuzad stopped what he was doing and turned to face the Deathlord.
The Archlich's jawbone twitched. "You brought a living person back to our camp—though she seems to be on the verge of death. Are you trying to resurrect a Draenei Death Knight?"
"Not at the moment." Lothar took the crystal vial with the sample from his horse's back and tossed it to Kel'Thuzad. "I got the item for you. Now, help me contact the Lich King."
Kel'Thuzad casually glanced at the sample's quality, then snapped his fingers, activating the nearby teleportation array.
"You'd better hurry—if you don't want this Draenei to join us later," Kel'Thuzad "kindly" reminded him. "I think she could die at any moment."
"I know that, of course." Lothar was about to take Tulani through the portal back to Azeroth when he suddenly remembered something. "Kel'Thuzad, do you have anything that can sustain this Draenei's life?"
The soul fire in Kel'Thuzad's eye sockets flared. "You actually think I, a Lich, have something that can extend a living person's life? Why don't you just heal this Draenei priest's injuries yourself?"
"Never mind, then." Lothar had a look that said, "I expected as much."
"Wait." Kel'Thuzad's fingers scraped along his jawbone, then with a wave of his hand, he threw a crystal vial, seemingly pulled from nowhere, to Lothar. "Take this. It's extracted from those Hell Boars. Although it's not very stable, at a critical moment, it might allow this Draenei to die... less painfully?"
Lothar caught the crystal vial, looking at the red liquid inside that exuded a violent vitality. He couldn't help but smile. "Mages really do have a lot of strange things—even after they're dead."
Kel'Thuzad pretended not to hear Lothar's sarcasm, and, holding the sample Lothar had brought him, he returned to his work.
"Remember to close the portal after you go through. Maintaining this thing consumes a lot of energy."
Amidst Kel'Thuzad's nagging, Lothar carried Tulani through another portal, once again standing on the land of Azeroth.
"Phew... Even in this icy Icecrown Glacier, it's better than that oppressive place." Lothar let out a breath. Although he didn't need to breathe, he still subconsciously acted like a living person.
...
"Is that guy still refusing to eat?" Arthas leaned back in the Dark Iron Dwarves' iron chair and asked casually.
Unexpectedly, compared to his combat prowess, Dagran Thaurissan's stubborn temper was several levels higher.
After being defeated by Magni and captured alive by Jaina, this Black Iron King had remained silent.
"Ignore him. Dwarves are very good at enduring hunger. It's no problem for him to stay in the cell for ten days to half a month." Magni had no patience when Dagran was mentioned. "If it really doesn't work, I'll go beat him up again."
"I think you should forget it. With your heavy-handedness, I'm afraid you'll beat that already weak Black Iron Dwarf to death," Thoras said, stopping his perusal of the battle report and advising helplessly.
"When that guy was carried in, hardly any of his bones were intact."
When Arthas said this, he almost couldn't hold back a laugh: Magni's resentment towards the Dark Iron Dwarves was undeniably great. Even with Jaina's interference, he almost beat Dagran to death.
It seemed Dagran's strength was still far inferior to Magni, the "War King."
But Arthas felt that Dagran's stubbornness, common among Dwarves, was even more severe than Magni's.
He was initially a bit confused. Dagran, after being captured, showed no suicidal tendencies, yet he refused the food offered by the Alliance. He just squatted in his cell every day, refusing contact with almost anyone except for the physician who regularly checked his injuries.
A guy who clearly didn't seem to want to die like this, yet he refused to eat?
Arthas had witnessed it: Dagran was using this method to express his dissatisfaction with Magni, or more accurately, with his former kinsmen.
Magni himself grew angrier the more he thought about it, rising from his seat, ready to go "chat" with Dagran again. However, Arthas stopped Magni.
"Rest for a while first. Even if you beat him to death, he probably won't tell you anything," Arthas said.
"Don't stop me, Arthas! By my beard, I swear I'll make Dagran Thaurissan understand that being ungrateful is not what a prisoner should do!"
Magni was clearly worked up about this matter, abandoning his previous calm and wise king image, instead becoming comparable to his brother, Muradin.
Er, if Muradin were also here, perhaps Dagran would truly experience the taste of a Bronzebeard family tag-team beating.
"Let me go this time—he's ignoring us, and we're ignoring him. This guy must be more anxious than us."
Arthas had never negotiated with Dagran before; it had always been Magni sending people, trying all sorts of soft and hard tactics. Yet, Dagran remained like a statue, unwilling to speak.
This was unavoidable. Even if Dagran was half a puppet king, as a Black Iron royal, even with the curse of Ragnaros flowing in his veins, he would still not bow to Ironforge.
Letting Magni try his methods first was also a way to probe Dagran's bottom line: it showed that this guy wasn't someone without principles. If he had truly cried and begged for mercy from the people of Ironforge, Arthas would have found the subsequent matters more difficult to handle.
Arthas personally went to the cell. He opened the door, walked in, and saw the Black Iron King, chained with shackles, also looking at him.
Arthas smiled slightly, closed the door, and said:
"Dagran Thaurissan, perhaps we should have a good talk."
"I have nothing to talk about with you—even if that Bronzebeard guy kills me, he can't make the King of the Dark Iron Dwarves bow down. You should know that very well, human."
Dagran's tone was filled with anger. "Being captured by you is a great humiliation, but you will be crushed by Ragnaros's army sooner or later. You simply don't understand what kind of power you are fighting against."
"No, I understand very well," Arthas immediately retorted Dagran's words. "But Ragnaros is not the focus of this conversation. Let's talk about you, Dagran, a childish, pathetic Dwarf."
"Childish?!"
Hearing Arthas's description, Dagran suddenly rushed towards Arthas, somewhat violently tugging at the chains that restricted his movement. "How dare you insult the Dark Iron Emperor like that?!"
Arthas glanced at Dagran, calmly pacing back and forth at a distance just beyond the maximum length Dagran could reach.
"Isn't it so?"