Chapter Two: An Unfavorable Situation

Arthas—the fallen prince who slew his own king and father, the culprit behind the destruction of the Sunwell, the monster who transformed all of Lordaeron into a necropolis, and above all, the name that haunts every living soul—the Lich King!

Indeed, this was the path Arthas was destined to walk. His final fate was sealed in the Frozen Throne of Icecrown Citadel in Northrend, where he was slain by the first paladin, Tirion Fordring, wielding Ashbringer.

Thus ended the life of the fallen prince, and Arthas’s crimes would be forever etched into the annals of Azeroth’s history.

Just thinking of all this gave Arthas a splitting headache. He was Arthas of Lordaeron, yes, but in some profound sense, he was not truly Arthas.

When he first opened his eyes at birth, unable to comprehend the adults speaking around him, he was lifted by a man wearing a crown—until he heard a familiar name called out.

“Arthas!”

Though born in the royal palace of Lordaeron, some part of Arthas’s mind and memory seemed to originate from elsewhere. He only knew that he clearly recalled experiences from another world.

This was one of two secrets Arthas guarded fiercely—known only to himself. Yet he lived each day in constant vigilance and caution, not because the royal palace was unsafe, but because his very identity was precarious.

His princely status brought him no comfort; rather, it deepened his sense of unease.

The planet upon which he was born—known in full as Azeroth—once held but a single continent in ancient times: Kalimdor.

Its name meant “Land of Ever-Shining Stars.” But after a cataclysmic upheaval, the ancient Kalimdor shattered into several continents, the two largest now called Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. Arthas was prince of the mightiest human kingdom on the Eastern Kingdoms continent.

On the surface, it sounded like a grand destiny. In truth, it was far from it. Through the eyes of Arthas, a half-outsider, the fate of this world was nothing short of despair beyond despair.

The very bodies of their supreme gods—the Titans—had long since fallen, their souls trapped and tormented by the Burning Legion, led by the fallen Titan Sargeras. This corrupted deity ceaselessly plotted the destruction of Azeroth.

Though Sargeras had yet to descend upon Azeroth, it did not mean he never would. Arthas knew that within a few decades, the Legion and their master would inevitably arrive.

Beyond the endless demons of the Legion, Azeroth itself was not safe. The planet was sealed with ancient gods—Old Gods—equally terrifying and insurmountable to mortals.

These evil deities clung like parasitic worms. The Titan’s guardians and seals had long since been corrupted and weakened to mere sieves. A single breach could allow these Old Gods to annihilate all life on Azeroth, turning it into their terrestrial dominion.

With the home of the Titans lost, and their own lands beset by turmoil, one might expect a prophesied chosen one to rise—to defy fate, master great power, and vanquish all foes.

Alas, though Azeroth possessed a relatively advanced system of the supernatural, mortals remained mortals. Even the demigods of Azeroth were but slightly larger ants in the eyes of the Old Gods and the Legion.

Worse still, the five Dragon Aspects—bearers of the Titans’ power and duties—had gone mad. One Aspect, the Blue Dragonflight’s leader, was mentally unwell; the other three largely ignored worldly affairs. They would likely only act when the Legion invaded or the Old Gods’ threat loomed imminently.

The greatest and most absurd threat Arthas now feared came from one of the Dragon Aspects—the Bronze Dragonflight’s leader, Nozdormu.

This Aspect, guardian of Azeroth’s timelines, was obsessively fixated on maintaining the “correct” timeline. If Nozdormu or his Bronze Dragon forces discovered Arthas’s anomaly, they would surely eliminate him before anyone else could act.

Thus, for nineteen years, Arthas had lived with extreme caution—avoiding actions that would diverge from the path Arthas was supposed to take. Yet he knew this was self-deception.

He was certain he could never follow the path of the fallen. Yet it was only a matter of time before the Bronze Dragon detected him. Their method would likely be to strike when he was weakest and most unstable, either destroying him or erasing his memories—both outcomes unacceptable to Arthas.

However, in all these years, Arthas had seen neither a Bronze Dragon nor even a toy dinosaur. He began to wonder if the Bronze Dragon assigned to his timeline had slacked off or fallen asleep.

Fortunately, Arthas’s own strength had grown considerable. He was confident he could handle ordinary Bronze Dragons. But should one from Nozdormu’s ancient era appear, he would likely be doomed.

Arthas intended to conceal himself as long as possible, but he was no passive victim waiting for death or rescue. Despite appearances, he had long prepared various plans for the future.

His first step was to secure his own survival. Now that he had become a full-fledged paladin, Arthas could finally put into motion the plans he had carefully laid out.

His goal was not only to survive the coming disasters but also to restore Lordaeron’s former glory.

Though Lordaeron remained the strongest among human kingdoms these years, against his imagined foes, it was merely a kingdom destined to fall a day later than others.

King Terenas was advanced in years. Compared to his wise and decisive self a decade prior, the old king retained his domineering influence over the council and diplomacy but had lost much of his acumen and foresight.

Coupled with the scars left by the Orcish wars and the heavy burden of maintaining numerous Orc prisoner camps, Lordaeron’s ability to sustain its strength in recent years was remarkable in itself.

This was why Arthas managed many critical affairs, perhaps the old king’s greatest consolation in his twilight years—his growing trust in his son.

Though in the original destiny this trust led both father and kingdom into the abyss, now all was different. Arthas had steadied Lordaeron from its decline. Once the heavy burden of the Orc camps was resolved, Lordaeron’s rise to greater power was only a matter of time.

This was a vital link in his grand design: controlling a human kingdom and even the alliance of the Eastern Kingdoms would greatly facilitate his future plans.

As for the Orcs, Arthas cared little. Perhaps, under the leadership of their emerging new chieftain, they might serve as strong cannon fodder against the Legion.

Seated amid the feast, the vision in Arthas’s mind grew ever clearer—resolving the Orc problem would be the stepping stone to his own ascent.