The Second Empire of Azeroth

The gates of Lordaeron stood wide open, revealing a deathly silence within. Only a few solitary figures wandered in the square, their movements sluggish, like the frail steps of the elderly. Aimless, they roamed until they spotted Arthas and his company. Immediately, they raised their heads and let out a chilling shriek before lunging forward.

"Undead!" A military officer screamed.

Then, drawing his sword, he commanded, "Purge them!"

Although the Silver Hand had departed from Stratholme, Arthas still had several paladins under his command. Led by one of these paladins, a dozen elite soldiers charged forward, swiftly dispatching the ghouls.

Arthas advanced slowly, his mind struggling to comprehend.

He couldn't understand why ghouls would appear in Lordaeron City after the Lich King had already been eliminated.

Examining the corpses of the ghouls, he noticed they were different from the undead in Northrend, bearing a striking resemblance to those in Stratholme.

The Scourge plague!?

Arthas abruptly looked up, urgently ordering, "Proceed to the palace immediately!"

The soldiers immediately broke into a run, heading towards the central palace of Lordaeron. However, before they could leave the square, countless undead emerged from the buildings, launching an assault from all directions.

Seeing this, Arthas's heart sank even further.

Yet, the battles of the past months had hardened him, leaving him unfazed. "Do not engage in prolonged combat! Force a path through!"

"Prioritize defense! Avoid being scratched by the undead."

The Scourge plague was contagious, and scratches could lead to infection. With the scarcity of clerics in the army, it was difficult to perform exorcisms for every soldier.

Giving orders, Arthas charged ahead. He hurled the Hand of Ragnaros, transforming it into a raging inferno that incinerated the undead blocking their path. Invincible, empowered by the Holy Light, charged into the flames. Arthas reached out, retrieved the Hand of Ragnaros,

and began to wield it with great force.

The Holy Light-infused flames instantly purified a large swathe of ghouls, clearing a path for the army. The soldiers followed closely behind Arthas, heading directly for the palace.

Inside the palace, Terenas sat upon the throne, watching as Arthas entered.

"My son!" Terenas stood up, extending a pale hand. "Seeing you as you are today fills me with joy. You are finally ready to bear the fate of the entire nation. I have waited a long time for this day."

Arthas stared blankly at his father, tears silently streaming down his face. He raised the Hand of Ragnaros and gently pressed it against his father's chest, watching as the flames slowly consumed him.

"Now, you shall be crowned king!"

Terenas painfully removed the crown, placing it upon Arthas's head as an expression of relief washed over his face.

"Hoo—"

The flames completely engulfed Terenas, and the crown fell to the ground before Arthas, a piece of its spire breaking off. The crown rolled a few times on the floor, and when it stopped, the reflected firelight upon it vanished.

"Prince… no,

Your Majesty!" An officer stepped forward, inquiring, "The undead of all of Lordaeron are converging upon us. If we do not leave now,

we will be trapped in the palace."

Upon hearing this, the soldiers drew their weapons. "Kill all the undead!"

"Revenge!"

"Revenge!"

"Let us fight our way out!"

The palace gates swung open with a deafening roar, and Arthas charged ahead, countless bursts of Holy Flame erupting before him, incinerating any undead that dared to stand in his path. The paladins, having been enchanted with the Holy Light, followed closely behind Arthas, charging towards the outskirts of Lordaeron City.

Upon the high towers of Lordaeron City, three dreadlords watched the battle unfold below.

All of Lordaeron had been zombified. Hundreds of thousands of people had been turned into undead, with only Arthas's army remaining alive.

"Shall we not hold them back?" Varimathras asked.

"How? Arthas is wielding the Hand of Ragnaros. Who dares stand before him?" Detheroc replied.

"It seems we must find another way to destroy the Silver Hand!" Balnazzar said helplessly.

Time rewinds to a few months prior. The Lich King had dispatched Baron Rivendare back to Lordaeron, instructing him to find these dreadlords. The dreadlords gave Baron Rivendare several tasks, including regrouping the Cult of the Damned, excavating the ancient tombs beneath Lordaeron, where ancient warriors were buried, amassing an army, and stealing Kel'Thuzad's ashes.

Then, following the dreadlords' plan, they intended to travel to Quel'Thalas to resurrect Kel'Thuzad using the Sunwell. However, the Lich King was eliminated on the way.

Kel'Thuzad and Rivendare wandered aimlessly for a while before immediately turning to the Burning Legion represented by the dreadlords. When the undead army attacked Quel'Thalas, they suffered heavy casualties. Sylvanas's ranger forces severely damaged the undead army, nearly killing Rivendare.

In the end, the dreadlords had to entice the high elf noble Dar'Khan with great rewards, secretly transporting an army to the Sunwell, killing the mages there, and throwing Kel'Thuzad's ashes into the Sunwell, resurrecting him.

After Kel'Thuzad was resurrected, he, Dar'Khan, and Rivendare fled Quel'Thalas. The remaining undead army was incinerated by the enraged elves, with fewer than a hundred managing to escape.

To replenish their ranks, Kel'Thuzad turned his attention to Lordaeron. They seized several graveyards, assembled an army, and attacked Andorhal, prompting Uther to lead the Silver Hand to its rescue. Then, they secretly introduced the Scourge plague into Lordaeron's grain supply. Within days, most of Lordaeron's people began to turn into undead, with even the army not spared.

Under the dreadlords' orchestration, they severed the transportation lines to Andorhal, dispatching members of the Cult of the Damned to deliver Terenas's orders to Uther. Then, before Uther could return, they turned all of Lordaeron into a city of the undead.

They were merely waiting for Uther to lead the Silver Hand back, using the city full of undead to kill the Silver Hand and resurrect them as death knights. If they could obtain a thousand death knights, it would be worth sacrificing hundreds of thousands of lesser undead.

However, what the dreadlords did not expect was that their trap would be sprung by Arthas before it was even fully set.

They still had no way to deal with Arthas. The Hand of Ragnaros, empowered by the Holy Light, could easily destroy their bodies. If a pit lord were present, perhaps he could hold off Arthas.

But alas, even after accumulating resources for thousands of years, they could only summon one pit lord—Brutallus. But Brutallus was currently engaged in battle with the Silver Hand in Andorhal! He couldn't possibly arrive in time.