Chapter Two: The Impermanence of Royal Power

The old Tauren remained silent for a long time. When Varian was beginning to lose patience, Hammer finally spoke.

“I thought it was just a legend.”

“Unfortunately, it’s more than that.”

Jaina was somewhat surprised that Hammer accepted her words so quickly, yet it also reaffirmed the truth of what she had said.

“The Earthmother has told me that you did not lie; you truly came with goodwill to help us,” Hammer said slowly. “An alliance with you is not a bad thing. I will report this to our chieftain.”

“Thank you very much.”

Though Hammer did not give Jaina the clear answer she wanted to hear, at least it showed the Tauren were not overly rejecting the olive branch extended to them.

This was very favorable for the progress of the events to come—it fulfilled Arthas’s request.

After seeing Hammer Rune Totem off, Varian asked Jaina in the meeting room, “Did they seem hostile toward us outsiders?”

Jaina smiled helplessly. “So are we, aren’t we? The Tauren tribes revere nature; it’s natural that they don’t accept human civilization easily. But we’ve already taken the hardest step.”

“You’re right. If the orcs truly are the vanguard of the Burning Legion, we must take such an enemy seriously,” Varian nodded solemnly.

“By the way, where has Muradin gone?”

That dwarf had disappeared with several of his guards shortly after landing. Even at the alliance meeting, he only sent a dwarf representative.

“Who knows? He said he was sick from the long voyage and wanted to stretch his legs on land.”

Varian leaned back in his chair, stretching his body. After such a long meeting, even he felt stiff.

But then, with a loud bang, Muradin’s distinctive booming voice nearly flipped Varian’s chair.

“Are you done already?! Were those tall fellows easy to talk to?”

Varian gripped the table to steady himself and complained, “Muradin, could you be a bit gentler next time? I thought you were going to break the meeting room door.”

“Haha, sorry! The doors in Ironforge are usually very heavy; you have to use force to open them,” Muradin said, setting down his warhammer and battle axe, then lightly hopping onto a chair.

“The talks went well; they showed a tendency to ally with us,” Jaina updated Muradin.

“That’s good. They might seem strange, but I can tell they’re reliable,” Muradin laughed heartily. “But this swamp is no good place. I wandered around a bit—just mud and bugs everywhere.”

“The Dustwallow Marsh is indeed harsh. Deep in the marsh, wild beasts roam, and our scouts reported sightings of ogres.”

“Ogres? Weren’t those creatures brought to this world by the orcs? How are they here on this continent? Have the orcs already been here?” Varian frowned in confusion.

“Not sure, but we found no evidence of orcs,” Jaina admitted.

“Who knows? Ogres are like spores that reproduce asexually—scattered all over the continent. Maybe they really drifted here on the wind,” Muradin said dismissively. “No matter what, just smash them with a hammer.”

“They’ve built a sizable fortress southwest of here, but they don’t seem to be rampaging wildly in the marsh.”

“As for further south, crossing the ogre fortress is very dangerous. We have little intelligence, but it seems to be a dried-up marsh filled with the pungent smell of sulfur everywhere.”

The group had a rough understanding of Theramore’s situation. They had to admit the city’s unique geography provided a good shield.

Even the local Tauren tribes, if not contacted by the Alliance, wouldn’t know a city had been built deep in Dustwallow Marsh.

The harsh and complex environment deterred even the most skilled hunters. Facing fierce raptors, crocodiles lurking in the mud, and large spiders camouflaged almost perfectly with the surroundings, any one of these could be fatal, and such dangers were everywhere in the marsh.

The only relatively safe area was near Theramore’s coast, where the greatest threat came from nearby murloc villages, which posed a significant danger to ships.

Other scattered creatures like plesiosaurs and crustacean-like humanoids dwelled deep in reefs, places ships rarely entered, so there was no need to worry.

Under VanCleef’s supervision, Theramore was nearly complete, but most buildings remained empty, as no settlers had been deployed yet.

Only the soldiers of the First Legion and the troops Jaina’s group brought were stationed there, making the large city feel somewhat deserted.

“VanCleef did a fine job building this city, but there aren’t enough people,” Varian said, walking the clean streets and admiring the new bricks.

“But fewer people have their advantages—not as noisy as Stormwind.”

As the largest human city in the south, Stormwind was bustling with merchants and pedestrians since reconstruction, making it noisy and chaotic.

Theramore, in contrast, was more comforting to Varian—not just because it was quieter, but also because the messy, corrupt noble factions in Stormwind drained his energy.

“Borval handles most of your affairs; it shouldn’t be that hard on you,” Jaina said with a smile. “How’s young Anduin recently? Why not bring him to Lordaeron for a visit?”

“Actually, before I left, I sent them to Lordaeron for vacation,” Varian sighed. “Things haven’t been peaceful in Stormwind lately. That lady countess stirred things up, making many nobles restless.”

“Has the SI:7 done anything?”

“They have, but strangely, the spies monitoring the countess found nothing unusual—except that she spends a lot of time with Borval.”

Muradin said casually, “The countess? That one named Katrana? I’ve seen her a few times; she gives off an unpleasant vibe.”

Upon hearing Varian’s complaints, Jaina recalled what Arthas had told her. “I remember Arthas mentioning that the countess wasn’t ordinary.”

“Really? He warned me about her three years ago, but in all that time, she hasn’t shown any signs beyond normal political maneuvering. If she truly is problematic, her ambitions must be vast.”

Varian worried deeply about this ticking time bomb buried in Stormwind. He had long known that the noble faction to which the countess belonged was heavily involved in the city’s overdue pay scandal.

But facing such a deeply rooted noble family, without decisive evidence, even as king, he couldn’t intervene. Any action against the countess would alarm related nobles, who would not stand idly by.

Comparing the thriving Lordaeron to the troubled Stormwind made Varian bitter. Managing a kingdom exhausted him. Part of why he volunteered for this mission to Kalimdor was to distance himself from the complex and hypocritical whirlpool, to take up his sword again and be a warrior.

“It’s been a turbulent season… big events everywhere. Just a few days ago, I got an urgent message from Dalaran about massive energy fluctuations in Northrend. They’re gathering elite mages to investigate,” Jaina said with a hint of concern, worried about Arthas, who was currently fighting demons in Northrend.

“Let’s hope Arthas and the First Legion stay safe.”

...

While Jaina worried about Arthas, he had already led his army back to Lordaeron. News of his victorious return reached King Terenas before the fleet even docked.

Terenas arranged a grand welcome ceremony. The entire kingdom was filled with a festive atmosphere.

Walking along the road from Lordaeron’s capital to the royal chambers, Arthas heard deafening cheers. He stretched out his hand, and bright petals fluttered down, some landing gently in his palm.

He sighed softly and blew the petals into the castle moat, carried away by the wind.

The door to the royal chamber stood before him; the Lordaeron royal guards stood at attention and saluted their prince.

Arthas pushed open the door with force. His father sat upon the throne, awaiting his arrival.

“My son, your victory has brought us peace and honor. I am glad to see you return safely.”

The prince knelt on one knee in the center of the hall, leaning on Frostmourne. Behind him were two silent Black Knights clad in black armor.

“Father, thank you for your concern, but it is not yet time to celebrate victory,” Arthas said loudly. “Several demon remnants still hide in some corner of the Eastern Kingdoms, plotting their evil schemes.”

The old king nodded softly, his gaze upon his son filled with complex emotions.

Arthas had shown extraordinary talents since childhood—nearly a perfect prince and heir. Even Terenas could find no fault in him.

Yet the king blamed himself for not leaving Arthas a prosperous kingdom. Instead, Arthas had helped him restore the nation from post-war ruin and decay.

Now, with the orc threat completely eliminated and their forces driven beyond Lordaeron’s borders, the kingdom’s only burden was lifted. The sudden plague had not caused severe damage either.

Lordaeron might not yet rival its peak of nearly a century ago, but the country’s potential exceeded all expectations.

The suppression by neighboring human kingdoms had no effect; they were too absorbed in power struggles to focus on development.

Among the seven human kingdoms, Alterac had become history, the Stormpike capital was destroyed in the orc war, and Gilneas was gradually isolating itself.

In all the northern Eastern Kingdoms, except for the magically focused Dalaran, Lordaeron’s status was clear—willing or not, everyone had to acknowledge its strength.

“My son, I am old now. As I once told you, kingship is not eternal. On the day my life nears its end, you will be crowned king.”

“I have watched you grow day by day into the embodiment of justice and courage, but I feel I have not been a good father; I did too little during your upbringing.”

“I sense that day is near. My son, if there is anything you wish to do, do it boldly and without fear.”

King Terenas’s aged voice echoed in Arthas’s ears. The king knew his time was short and wished to hand over a prosperous Lordaeron to his son before he rested in the tomb.

“I will always uphold my beliefs and fulfill my duties,” Arthas said, rising and sheathing Frostmourne.

Time was pressing. The threat brought by Tichondrius and his followers was imminent. Arthas had no time for celebration.

He planned to head soon to Andorhal, where Uther and Alexandros led the Silver Hand and the First Legion, from which reinforcements could be easily drawn.

Arthas had to reach Dalaran quickly to meet with Antonidas and thoroughly inspect the city to prevent suspicious individuals from summoning demons using the magical kingdom’s reserves.

Kael’thas was also there, so Arthas could inform him of the potential problems Quel’Thalas might face.