Lordaeron Royal Training Grounds.
A blond teenager was vigorously sweating, each punch carrying a faint gust of wind, landing solidly.
Occasionally, a flash of inspiration, Bash activated, even knocking the training orc into a daze.
The brazen bastard was fighting an orc!
Seeing that he was about to collapse, a Holy Light healing spell was cast, and the orc captive immediately sprang back to life, continuing to endure a barrage of punches.
Beaten to the point of unbearable pain, even after drinking demon blood and falling into an endless frenzy, the green-skinned orc was now snot and tears streaming down its face.
"Sir, no more, no more! I surrender, isn't surrendering enough?"
Three punches shattered the demon blood, prince Arthas, don't hit me, I'll be good orc! I'll get a job!
Watching the experience points on his panel fluctuate, seeing that he was about to level up, Arthas didn't care about anything else; all that mattered was grinding his skills!
A simple, unadorned light flashed, and a new skill icon appeared in his mind.
"Level Two Bash (Passive): Human hero Mountain King skill, 20% chance to stun an enemy for two seconds, with 20% additional damage."
There wasn't much description; only the skill knowledge he possessed could clearly surface.
His previous self had learned skills from the dwarven teacher Muradin, and this skill was something his former self had mastered.
Now, he had transitioned from a warrior to a paladin, well, an honorable probationary paladin.
May the Holy Light guide you!
Arthas stopped his practice, looked at the beaten orc, waved his hand, and a Holy Light spell healed its external injuries.
He took a towel and wiped away his sweat. How many other princes practiced their skills so diligently?
Varian probably, that maniac should have been born in the Warhammer world.
Anyways, he couldn't afford not to be diligent; this world was too dangerous.
Before, playing games, he could watch the show and find it amusing.
Now, being in it, there was only helplessness, wishing he could quickly return to reality.
But he couldn't go back; this was reality!
The Undead Scourge Plague was rampant, right around the corner, a tide of corpses surging in, endless to kill, and those who died could even be reanimated.
The Burning Legion will arrive, demons wreathed in flames roaming and slaughtering, vowing to destroy everything they saw!
And that commander, Archimonde, crushed a magical city with his bare hands – that was just outrageous!
Arthas shook his head, not wanting to think about these troublesome matters.
Perhaps he should think of something happy. There were some good ones among the Daemons, like Mother Shahraz with her six arms, that perky, grinding physique – truly powerful!
'She could do a lot with six arms...'
He thought of the valiant Ranger-General Sylvanas, her slender waist brimming with explosive power, and her snowy peaks.
And there was Jaina, his childhood friend, whom he had never met, who was controversial yet desired by all.
All these baddies made the effort worth it!
Well, his mood seemed to have brightened again!
Neuron activation is the primary motivation.
Men only behave when they are hung on a wall by some tall amazons awaiting death by snu snu, otherwise, how can they behave?
Just then, Captain Falric walked over, placing his right hand on his chest and bowing.
"Your Highness,His Majesty King Terenas has summoned you to the War Council Hall."
"Understood. Let's go, lead the way."
Arthas rubbed his fists. He had to admit, orcs truly had thick skin; his hands were starting to ache from hitting them.
Royal Palace, War Council Hall.
Vivid murals were carved into the white marble, a testament to the exquisite craftsmanship of high elf sculptors.
The surrounding magical lights emitted a warm glow; being within it, one could feel peace and tranquility.
Donning armor inlaid with magical runes, the exceptionally handsome Arthas entered the hall and bowed to the elderly man on the throne.
His nominal father, the King of Lordaeron – Terenas Menethil.
"Greetings, Father. I am here!"
"Arthas, you've come at a good time. We are discussing the plague and the orcs."
"The Kirin Tor ambassador and representatives from the various Alliance member states are all present, and they have brought the latest news."
Terenas's eyes were filled with pride, and also a hint of ambition. As the most powerful kingdom among humans, he had always harbored the desire to re-integrate the fractured kingdoms into a new empire!
Although he was old, his son was still young and so outstanding.
Arthas stood up, a trace of confusion flashed in his eyes, but he quickly recovered.
Two blurry main quests appeared in his mind, a scene identical to the quest prompts he encountered while playing the Warcraft campaign story.
After focusing his mind on the quest, a dark map also appeared in his mind, with a glowing circle marking a dark location.
This was where the game told the player to go; along the way, it was nothing but fighting and killing.
He looked up at the balconies on the second floor; each balcony represented an Alliance member state.
There were the most loyal allies, the maritime kingdom of Kul Tiras, the southern kingdom of Stormwind Kingdom, and the magical kingdom of Kirin Tor.
There were also some close allies: the Wildhammer Dwarves of Aerie Peak, the Bronzebeard Dwarves of Ironforge, and even the Gnomes were among them.
What surprised Arthas was that on the outermost balcony, there was a female elf, cloaked and wearing light armor intricately carved with beautiful patterns, her slender, agile figure radiating healthy charm.
Her face was exquisitely beautiful, her skin flawless, and there was no characteristic elven sorrow in her brows; instead, there was a hint of heroism, a tenacious rose that yielded to no man.
She was currently standing with her arms crossed, making her peaks seem about to burst forth.
A faint, disdainful smile hung on her full lips; in her long life, the squabbles of these human creatures were truly amusing!
Those legs aren't lying!
This was none other than the High Elf Ranger-General who would be entangled with him for half a lifetime, with a hatred that would span their entire lives.
Sylvanas Windrunner!
What was she doing here?
This wasn't right! At this time, the elves should have been furious and left the Alliance, feeling it was merely a gathering of useless beings, after the plan to establish orc internment camps had failed completely.
What surprised Arthas wasn't just one thing; the ambassador from Kul Tiras was actually Grand prince Derek, his nominal brother-in-law!
'Wait, wasn't this guy supposed to have died in the Second Orcish War?
And how could Sylvanas be here?
Something's wrong, very wrong, my head hurts!'
Since things were already like this, he might as well think about what to eat tonight!
The Alliance members were divided into two factions, arguing incessantly over the agenda.
One faction believed that the New Horde was gathering, and the Alliance should not allow them to do so; they must send troops to annihilate them!
The pain brought by the orc invasion back then was still vivid; this was an unforgettable hatred.
The other faction was represented by the Kirin Tor ambassador, who told everyone that the Horde was not the Alliance's primary problem; the plague ravaging the north was!
He also proposed immediately isolating the infected villages to prevent further spread until a solution was found.
The eastern region of the north was the Alliance's food production center, with vast plains and unique geographical advantages.
If something went wrong there, the entire Alliance's food supply would be affected!
For both emotional and logical reasons, the plague had to be dealt with first.
In the Kirin Tor's considerations, that area was not only a food production region but also a source of many magical materials, so they naturally paid extra attention to it.
The two sides argued endlessly, and Terenas, sitting on the throne, felt a bit drowsy. He was old, and his energy was failing.
If Arthas weren't too young, he would have already passed on the throne.
"Heh heh, I hear the prince of Lordaeron is the most courageous and wise prince in history, and the future leader of the Alliance. Why not say a few words?"
These words came from no other than Sylvanas, who had been watching the show for a long time!
For some reason, she harbored hostility towards this young prince, as if he were an enemy from a past life!
For a moment, everyone looked at Arthas, eagerly awaiting the prince's speech.
There was anticipation, jealousy, and naturally, some were just waiting for a good show.
Arthas felt utterly bewildered.
Why bring him up all of a sudden?
He looked up at the curve of Sylvanas's lips and the distinct yet flowing muscle lines of her face. She was indeed a high elf; even her physique was so elegant.
If anyone else had said that, he could have ignored it, but she was not only an Alliance member but also represented the high elves.
From the moment he entered, he had noticed a raven perched on the floor nearby.
A smirk played on his lips as he looked up at Sylvanas. There was only one best way to deal with enemies.
Kill the men, and kill the women and the children too!
Purge them all!
As for how to kill them, that depended on the individual.
"The orc problem is not difficult to solve. Don't they worship strength? Then we'll beat them until they submit!"
"My teacher, Uther the Lightbringer, once said, if the enemy is willing to listen to the teachings of the Light, we are willing to accept and reform them. If they are unwilling to listen, the hammer in our hands will make them obey!"
"Deal with the troublemakers. As for the orcs who want to leave, let them go."
Is that how paladins are made?
"Haha, good, well said! As expected of you Arthas. Kul Tiras supports you."
Derek also vehemently waved his fist. War was a man's romance!
While some were pleased, others were naturally displeased.
A leader who was too aggressive and fond of invasion would drag everyone into the abyss of war.
Sylvanas felt a series of palpitations. For some reason, she had a visceral aversion to the human prince before her.
It was as if she herself had been tormented by him, turning into a banshee, neither human nor ghost.
This was illogical, yet as a Ranger-General, she trusted her sixth sense implicitly.
It was truly a headache; this feeling was growing stronger.
"Then, since Your Highness is so certain, you must already have a plan in mind?"
Arthas nodded, glancing around at the ambassadors from the Alliance member states.
"Indeed. First, we'll deal with the troublesome orcs. I will find the Warchief of the New Horde and negotiate with him personally."
"If he can gather the other orcs to leave the Eastern Kingdoms for another continent, that would be best. If not, we will deal with them on the spot."
"In my opinion, letting them leave is the best option. Generations of blood feuds are not easily forgotten."
"But the plague in the north cannot be ignored. If not handled properly, it will not only be a problem for Lordaeron, but the entire Alliance could be annihilated!"
By the Light!
These words were even more radical than what the Kirin Tor ambassador had said earlier; the annihilation of the Alliance was now on the table.
Crucially, the one saying this was the prince of Lordaeron, the future leader of the Alliance!
Seemingly sensing their disbelief, thinking it was mere alarmism,
Arthas threw out another astonishing piece of news, looking at the mages.
"There are rumors that those who die from the plague rise at night and attack any living thing."
"I recall there's a type of magic called necromancy that controls corpses, raising the dead to become undead."
"Many years ago, Archmage Kel'Thuzad, a member of the Kirin Tor's Council of Six, was expelled for researching necromancy."
"Someone in the north claims to have seen traces of him. This is not a simple Plague, but an unnatural Plague created by magic. The mastermind behind it is far more cunning and powerful than those foolish orcs."
What!
"So it's a mess you Kirin Tor brought upon yourselves! I knew why you were so eager!"
"No, we didn't! Don't spread rumors! We are also investigating. There's no evidence to suggest that!"
The two factions began to argue again, once more bickering over the Plague.
Such was the Alliance; without a strong leader to keep them in check, they were but a scattered mess!
Arthas looked at the raven nearby, clasped his hands, and said with interest,
"My friend, after listening for so long, I still don't know if you are an enemy or a friend?"
These words once again drew everyone's attention back.
The raven's eyes darted around a few times, and an Arcane storm surged around it, an figure forming within the storm.
The guards outside, noticing the anomaly, immediately stepped forward to apprehend the intruder.
It was Arthas who gestured for them to wait.
Upstairs, in the council chambers, Sylvanas had already drawn her bow and aimed, though her aim seemed to be directed somewhat at the human prince!
Others might not know who this was, but during the war, everyone was aware that this was Medivh, the former Guardian, who had long since died.
The Guardian's reputation was not good. He had previously fallen due to his body being possessed by another soul, ultimately leading to the orc invasion.
Stormwind Kingdom in the South was destroyed, its King killed, and only prince Varian fled to Lordaeron for refuge.
At this moment, Medivh did not reveal his identity, but instead gave Arthas a deep look.
Perhaps many wouldn't recognize who Medivh was, but mentioning the name Medivh immediately brought to mind the one who brought the orcs to Azeroth—that traitor!
Holding a staff that resembled a chicken leg, he placed his right hand in front of him and bowed slightly in deference.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Arthas. Your foresight is correct."
"Behind these orcs is the Burning Legion. Wherever they go, they destroy all native inhabitants, destroying every world they encounter."
"Right now, they are preparing to return, and the plague in the north is the beginning."
"Please, Prince Arthas, lead your people across the Great Sea to seek refuge in the west, to guard the Well of Eternity and prevent the Daemons of The Legion from arriving. The plague in the north is already beyond salvation."
Just as he was speaking passionately, a furious roar was heard.
"Enough, sir! I don't know who you are, but as a prince, I will never abandon my people."
"How can your one-sided words convince anyone?"
"I will personally investigate the plague. You can assist me. Let me know you're not lying. You need to provide some evidence, don't you?"
Arthas would not let go of this legendary Archmage, even if his current combat power was questionable.
But it didn't matter; what he wanted was to learn the other party's skills.
A mage with abundant magical knowledge but not particularly strong—wasn't this the best tool?
Combining it with his own status panel, he had reason to believe that he could master any hero's skills.
Putting everything else aside, just that passive mana regeneration aura was enough to make his mouth water.
Spells were powerful, but they consumed mana. A mage often ran out of mana after casting just a few spells.
What if there was a mana regeneration aura then?
A priest with infinite mana could heal, and a mage with infinite mana could provide firepower.
This was simply perfect!