Gianna opened a portal and left. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

Arthas let out a sneaky sigh, and Gianna's tone became more and more like Uther. The Lightbringer's rigidity and stubbornness were too much for the young prince to bear, and he preferred to do what he pleased, free to do what he wanted. And not what Uther demanded, like the ascetics.

Located in the north of Andohador, the Valley of the Hearth is almost surrounded by mountains and has only a narrow passage leading to the outside world.

The former lord of the Valley of the Hearth was none other than the famous Tirio Fortin.

However, this upright paladin was too upright, and in the absence of a fight with an orc veteran, he crossed races and became a pair of good friends. Tirio Fortin, the honest man, was deprived of the Holy Light and banished.

The current lord is Tirio Fordin's youngest son, Tyran Fortin, a young paladin with the same talent as Arthas. Assisting the Little Lord was Tyran's teacher, Tirio's old friend Ethanlion.

The North Mountain Lumber Yard is an outpost into the Valley of the Hearth, a humble little ranch that is bustling with people and doesn't seem to be infected yet.

Alsace breathed a sigh of relief.

The horses came to the humble open space of the lumberyard, where almost all the people of the lumberyard were gathered. For the armored Lordaeron cavalry, the people of Hearthvale were a little surprised.

"Everyone!" Arthas reined in his horse, and the horse was pulled by the reins and stood up with a neigh.

"I am Prince of Lordaeron, Arthas Minethir. I'm here to investigate the recent plague, and I need your cooperation. ”

The workers and farmers looked at each other.

"Your Highness," Faric said in a sudden whisper, Arthas heard a tremor in his voice, and he immediately turned his head to look at his trusted men, "You...... Maybe you should check out that. ”

Following Faric's gaze, Arthas's heart tightened.

Surrounded by the workers and peasants was a large horse-drawn carriage, surrounded by chests, empty of which were marked with the Andoral mark......

Holding on to the last glimmer of hope, Arthas asked in a trembling voice, "What's in the box?" ”

A man in foreman costume looked at Arthas suspiciously:

"Wang ...... Your Royal Highness, this is just some food that has been brought in from Andorhar. Ah, I think we should thank His Royal Highness the merciful Prince, who not only sent for the grain, but even baked bread for us. ”

"yes, I've never eaten bread that good."

"Yes, I could smell the bread before the carriage arrived. Ah, it's memorable, and it would be nice to have more. ”

"Don't be dissatisfied, this is already the greatest mercy of His Royal Highness the Prince."

"Long live His Royal Highness the Prince!"

"Long live Lordaeron!"

…………

The farmers and workers of the Hearthvale cheered and thanked His Royal Highness the Prince for his generosity and care. Their eyes were filled with reverence, and their eyes were full of eagerness when they looked at Arthas.

If His Royal Highness the Prince ordered them to go into battle, they absolutely did not hesitate to pick up any weapon and immediately rush to the battlefield.

Arthas trembled!

"No!"

He tried to calm his mind, but in vain. Even he felt a tremor in his own voice, not because of the love of his people, but because of endless anger!

Sweet, with a strong bread aroma wafting over - this is the smell.

His mind was dizzy, and the cruelty of reality and boundless fear almost knocked him down.

The people here have eaten bread and the grain has been divided......

Arthas understood that the purpose of this plague was not just to kill his people. No, no, more vicious than that, more twisted than that. It's going to turn them into --

Before he could finish his thoughts, the man who had just answered the box question bowed lowly, and some of the others did the same. An eerie green light illuminated their bodies, pulsating stronger and stronger.

They clutched their stomachs and fell to the ground, blood gushing out of their mouths and soaking through their shirts. One of them reached out to him and pleaded for help. Frightened, Arthas flinched back, watching as the man withered in agony and died in a matter of seconds.

What did he do? The man begged him for healing from the Light, and he didn't even lift a hand. But can this be treated, Arthas looked at the corpse suspiciously. Holy Light -

"The Light is above!" Farrick exclaimed. "Those bread ......"

Arthas was startled and woke up from a trance of guilt. Bread – what was meant to be alive – is nutritious and wholesome to the health – but now it is more terrible than deadly. Arthas opened his mouth to shout warning his men, but his tongue stiffened.

Before the shocked prince could speak, the blight lurking in the sweet bread began to play its show.

The dead man suddenly opened his eyes.

Arthas sat down on the ground.

That is why Kel'thugad was able to create an army in such a short time.

He finally understood where the zombie legions that had been chasing after them seemed to be endless had come from.

"Your Highness!"

Farrick shouted loudly and ran over to put his arm around Arthas.

"We have to retreat, they're done, the Valley of the Hearth is finished."

"Kill them all!" Arthas shook off Farrick and yelled at his men. A zombie swooped down on its head with a shining war hammer, and the red, green, I don't know if it was blood or something, exploded like a ball.

Zombies are not good at using weapons, their only advantage is that they are painless, almost undead bodies, and that absolute numerical superiority.

"Your Royal Highness, Zombies...... They came after them from behind. ”

Arthas spun around, his eyes glazed with coldness, causing the reciprocated scout to swallow in horror.

Bypassing the scouts, Arthas saw clearly. In the night, the figures were one after another, accompanied by an eerie and terrifying hoarse roar.

So much. There were so many of them, long-dead skeletons, freshly transformed corpses, and more than one maggot abomination drove them away.

He could feel his men involuntarily retreating and moving closer. Panic permeated the ranks.

But-

Looking at the tall figure in the team without the slightest fluctuation, Arthas was secretly glad that he didn't let him go back with Gianna.

This time, without Arthas's 'request', the white wolf had turned into a shadow and rushed into the swarm of zombies.

"Move closer to the mountain wall."

Alsace made a wise decision.

The North Hill logging site is only slightly worse than the Fireplace Valley, which is surrounded by mountains on three sides, with large tracts of farmland to the south and a trail to the northeast leading to the Fireplace Valley.

"What about the white wolf......

A Lordaeron soldier asked subconsciously. Although this comrade-in-arms is like an ice cube and never speaks to anyone, after fighting again and again in the past few days, no one is not respected by the fierce fighting power of the white wolf. It seemed that as long as he was in the team, they would be able to calm down their panicked hearts.

"Do you think these things can stop him?"

Farrick pointed to the white wolf that swept through the zombie herd like a leek, and said what was in his heart for Arthas angrily.

"......" (To be continued.) )