At night, Arthas secretly led Lothar into the Abbey of Northshire, while Ogrim and Anub'rekhan were arranged by him to go to Scholomance.
On the small path leading up the mountain to the Abbey of Northshire, Arthas and Lothar did not use torches for illumination, as that would attract the attention of the mountain rangers. Instead, they moved through the darkness as if on flat ground, aided by their special soul vision.
"Are you sure this is really a good idea?" Lothar seemed to have some reservations.
"Since it's already done, we might as well go all the way," Arthas said with complete candor.
Lothar turned to glance at the Prince Arthas beside him, sighing, "If this matter is revealed at an inappropriate time, it won't benefit you at all."
"Some things are destined for someone to bear," Arthas said without the slightest emotional fluctuation, as if speaking of something completely unrelated to himself, "To fight against the Burning Legion that threatens the world, we have no choice."
"Human lifespan is not comparable to Elves, or even Trolls. And among us, not everyone is a powerful Mage. Although we leave behind legacies, we still can't compare to other races."
"When crisis strikes, we have no choice but to gather all available forces, because our enemies are determined to destroy us at all costs."
"Besides our Legions and weapons, powerful individuals are also key to winning this world-defending war."
Arthas stated his thoughts; when facing the high-ranking demons of the Burning Legion, using ordinary soldiers to fight them would require an unknown amount of sacrifice to defeat even one demon.
Only heroes and champions with equally formidable strength can play a reliable role in combating Legion demons, which is why Arthas would do his best to preserve the individual strength on Azeroth.
Otherwise, relying solely on ordinary armies and weapons, even if all the people on ten Azeroths were combined, it wouldn't be enough for the Burning Legion to even pick its teeth.
"Alright, if you've already thought it through, then I have nothing more to say." Lothar shook his head, "I hope Uther won't fly into a rage when he finds out about this; he's too stubborn."
"There's no helping it. Once my Uther knows about this, he might have the idea of personally taking me down."
Arthas was very clear about his Uther Uther's temperament; Uther's stubborn ideas on certain concepts were as unshakable as his devotion to the Holy Light.
Perhaps older generations often had such flaws; Uther was like that, and Antonidas was also like that. However, thinking about Sir Lothar beside him, he seemed out of place.
"What are you looking at me for?" Lothar noticed Arthas observing him and asked, somewhat strangely.
"Nothing, I was just thinking, it's a miracle that Varian hasn't gone astray with a guy like you looking after him."
Lothar's eyes widened, the soul flames burning in his eye sockets growing even brighter. "What do you mean 'a guy like me'? I didn't mess around with Varian's education!"
"Alright, I know you still want to preserve some face as a Grand Duke and Grand Marshal in front of the younger generation. Don't worry, I won't speak ill of you in front of Varian."
Lothar rolled his eyes, "What you just said makes me even more uneasy."
Their casual chat also served to lighten the atmosphere. Soon, Arthas and Lothar, having taken the small path up the mountain, could already see the exquisite spires and church of the Abbey of Northshire.
They chose a high ground, preparing to observe the situation of the Abbey from there.
Lothar counted the patrolling guards and the number of torches below, frowning, "Are you sure we can sneak in? I feel that among the patrolling guards, there are even Holy Light devotees."
"This is, after all, an Abbey frequently visited by Lordaeron nobles, royalty, and many Holy Light believers, so strict defenses are normal," Arthas said. "If they only sent two or three people to patrol, I might have to have a good talk with Mograine."
"Heh, isn't this a problem you caused yourself?"
"It seems unrealistic to go down to Fao's tomb from here. We'll have to go around. Follow me, there's a small path down here." Arthas carefully studied the patrol routes of the guards. After confirming they were moving along fixed paths, he led Lothar along a small path on the mountain to the side of the Abbey.
The area where Fao's tomb was located was on one side of the main road leading to the Abbey's front gate, but to avoid detection today, they had come up via a small path, so they could only find a way to circle back there from the mountain.
Fortunately, Arthas was quite familiar with the area, as every summer, he would come here with his parents and sister to vacation and rest for a period.
After another hour or two of traveling through the dark mountain forest, Arthas and Lothar finally saw the illuminating torchlight outside the cemetery below the mountain.
After confirming there was no one else in the cemetery, Arthas and Lothar immediately entered and found the Bishop's tomb located in the center.
"Alonsus Faol, the spokesman of the Holy Light and Archbishop of Lordaeron, rests here."
Arthas walked to the tightly sealed stone tomb, looked at the inscription on the stele, gently moved aside the fresh flowers left by visitors, and inserted his fingers into the gap of the stone door. The heavy stone door was slowly pushed open by him.
Lothar glanced at the fresh bouquets, raised an eyebrow, and followed Arthas into the opened tomb.
"To be honest, I didn't expect an Undead to feel so—awkward—after entering a tomb."
The tomb of Archbishop Fao echoed with the radiance of saints; even after his death, the Holy Light's favor upon this Bishop had not dissipated. The power of the Holy Light still faintly lingered in the tomb.
This caused Lothar, as an Undead, a slight discomfort, but due to his immense power, he quickly adapted to the environment, which was not very friendly to the Undead.
"We're here."
When they reached the end of the tomb's stairs, a stone chamber contained a stone sarcophagus, which held the remains of Archbishop Fao. Lothar could even feel the strong Holy Light power still emanating from his remains.
This made Lothar a bit uncertain. "Are you sure, under these circumstances, the resurrection ritual can be completed?"
"It's a bit difficult, but not impossible, which is why I brought you to help me." Arthas brushed away some dust, revealing the patterns on the tomb's floor tiles. He placed his palm on a stone tile and gently rotated it.
"Click... click... click."
A dry sound, as if gears were turning, came. After Arthas confirmed that the tomb's design was still functional, he continued to Lothar, "Later, you help me suppress the Holy Light power here—be careful not to be too forceful, or it might cause the ritual to go wrong."
"I understand, but... how did you do this?" Lothar watched as the stone tiles on the ground rotated one after another. Soon, a complete Death Necromancy ritual array was linked together through the patterns on those tiles.
"The people responsible for building this tomb were from the Secret Intelligence Agency."
Arthas was about to take out some necessary materials from his spatial satchel when suddenly, a sound entered his ears. A strong gust of wind came from behind Lothar, and this Death Knight immediately turned and raised his hand to block the attack.
"There really is someone!" Lothar had felt earlier that those sacrificial bouquets were a bit too fresh, seeming not to have been placed during the day, but shortly before they arrived.
The newcomer wore a hood, concealing his face, but his powerful punch made Lothar realize this was no ordinary worshiper. However, before Lothar could retaliate, a scorching stinging sensation forced him to move away from the mysterious person.
"This... Holy Light? paladin?" Lothar flexed his injured right hand, saying in a deep voice.
"You are—Sir Lothar?!" The hooded mysterious person's voice fluctuated when he saw Lothar's face. He recognized the former Grand Duke.
Lothar was startled by the words. The mysterious person's voice was quite familiar, but he couldn't recall who it was for a moment.
The mysterious person's fist hesitated for a moment. He pulled down his hood, revealing a weathered, resolute face, and half-gray hair and beard. He looked at Lothar with a complex expression, "I am Tirion Fordring, Sir Lothar, how could you be..."
"Tirion Fordring?!"
Lothar's mouth twitched. An encounter with an old friend might be nice, but the current location and time made it especially awkward, as his purpose for being there was unacceptable to most living people.
Not to mention that the other party was also a member of the Silver Hand, one of the first Paladins with a deep connection to Archbishop Alonsus Faol, Highlord Tirion Fordring.
Facing such an opponent, even Lothar couldn't claim he could subdue the other party without either side getting hurt.
And Fording also noticed that Lothar's state was not right. He was one of the people who attended Lothar's funeral and personally watched his remains enter the tomb, but now this Grand Marshal, who had been dead for many years, was standing in front of him like a living person and even fought with him?
There was no joy, Fording felt more shock. Lothar's neither-dead-nor-alive state made him deeply uneasy; he feared it was a sign of some disaster.
"Tirion, long time no see."
After Arthas knew the newcomer was Fording, he didn't avoid him. Instead, he greeted the paladin.
"Prince Arthas?!" Tirion was even more confused. Why would Arthas appear in such a place?
Arthas's expression also carried a hint of helplessness. He hadn't expected to encounter Fording. This paladin was now old; he had already handed over many of his powers and responsibilities to his son, and he himself lived in the countryside.
Of course, when the Silver Hand called, he would also unhesitatingly put on his armor and pick up his warhammer to fight for Holy Light and honor.
After both parties' identities were revealed, the tense atmosphere temporarily dissipated. Fording frowned and asked Arthas, "Prince Arthas, why exactly have you entered the Archbishop's tomb? And what's going on with Sir Lothar?"
Lothar suddenly felt it difficult to answer Fording's questions, because he felt that, from the Silver Hand's perspective, Arthas's actions were enough to warrant the most severe disciplinary measures.
However, Arthas himself didn't feel there was any problem, because the person standing in front of him, fortunately, was Tirion Fordring, this somewhat unusual paladin.
Compared to the rigidity and stubbornness of other Paladins, perhaps Tirion also had such bad habits before, but ever since he met the Orc named Eitrigg, he was different.
At that time, Tirion discovered that orcs were not all bloodthirsty beasts; among them were beings whose thoughts were no different from humans, possessing correct values and a sense of honor and shame.
Eitrigg was one of them.
A few years ago, when Tirion was still the Highlord of Hearthglen's Mardenholde Keep, he received intelligence about orcs appearing. Another local lord asked him to investigate the situation.
There, Tirion encountered a respectable opponent, an Orc named Eitrigg. This Orc lived in seclusion in an abandoned watchtower, leading a very simple life.
But at that time, Tirion believed Eitrigg was like other orcs, a monster controlled by demon blood, so they immediately fought without further ado.
During the fierce battle, the already dilapidated watchtower could not bear the weight, let out a mournful cry, and collapsed. Tirion, who couldn't dodge in time, was crushed under the watchtower.
When he regained consciousness, he found that the Orc named Eitrigg had saved him. He explained to Tirion that he had not harmed any humans during his time living in this mountain forest; he just wanted to live an ordinary life.
Tirion was initially very surprised by the fact that he had been rescued by an Orc, but as he had more conversations with Eitrigg, Tirion discovered that not every Orc was a violent, bloodthirsty monster; some among them were noble-minded.
To repay Eitrigg's life-saving grace, Tirion concealed the truth from that lord, saying that the Orc had been dealt with. But that lord felt uneasy and planned to send another team to verify the situation.
At that time, Tirion's heart was tense, not because he was afraid of being punished, but because he was worried about the Orc's safety. He originally planned to follow that team and help Eitrigg escape at the right time.
But the appearance of a Secret Intelligence Agency investigation team made Tirion's worries disappear. They were under the orders of Prince Arthas Arthas to take over this Orc investigation case.
With the Prince Arthas's assurance, the lord finally felt relieved and withdrew his men, and the Secret Intelligence Agency agents also found Tirion hidden in the forest.
Tirion still remembers what that agent said to him.
"Esteemed Fording, Prince Arthas says you need not worry. He is aware of the orc's situation. We are merely going to ask him to leave here; we will not harm his life. This is, in fact, a form of protection."