She can't kill me, and there's no way I'm going to let her kill me.

I didn't mean to humiliate this hateful, poor old girl. Now she did look a little pitiful, and she did not blink to death, and she had dead companions around her, but they were afraid of this woman. She could only wander alone every day in this empty new hearth valley.

New Fireplace Valley, there is Old Fireplace Valley. And why it's called Hearthvale is only in honor of her father, who died at the hands of the undead Scourge.

It's just that this paranoid girl is dragged down by her paranoia, and she will never be able to continue to fulfill her wishes. Only the loneliness, the disappointment, the sorrow exist in this city.

I don't know why she couldn't leave the city, but she was held back by an invisible wall.

She cried, very sadly. I believe that this kind of sadness is not because I can't kill me, but because when a person is completely disappointed and desperate, that kind of heart death can destroy any strong soul.

She's no exception.

I stood in front of her, watching her unable to step over the wall and hysterical, and looking at her curled up on the ground when she had had enough of crying, and I couldn't help but feel some pity in my heart.

I can't see a girl crying like this, this originally weak shoulder shoulders a fantasy that does not belong to her, and she can't bear it. This fantasy made her and ruined her completely. Now she is indeed a little to blame, after all, for the countless people who have been tortured to death by her minions with her acquiescence, her current fate is really nothing.

As far as I'm concerned, I don't forgive or forgive her, and she doesn't do anything excessive to me, although she also wants to get rid of me. And what she really should be forgiven is for those who have been put to death for their alleged lack of will.

Let's hope she can really repent.

I promised her to come to see her often, and this made her stop crying a little, and I advised her that it was better not to cry, or the dead crusaders who were also imprisoned here would not know what to think of her.

Hum...... Although she is hateful, although she is innocent of death, she is a girl after all, she is a little older, but she has probably never been in love.

Yes, this woman has never felt love since she lost her father.

The next morning I buried the poor mage on the edge of a cold cliff south of the city. I wanted to erect a monument for him, but I didn't have the tools or the slate, so I'll talk about that later.

I didn't expect that I could bury people with my own hands, and I was still an unfamiliar person.

His name was Evenson, and he was a trainee magician in Dalaran at the age of seventeen. After traveling from Theramore to Draenor, he became separated from his companions and died at the hands of the Crusader ghosts of the Scarlet Crusader fortress in New Hearthvale.

I muttered to myself, I had to tell myself again. Because I'm afraid I'll forget it again if I don't care.

From here, you can see the surface of the icy sea, the ice, the sea, and the cold wind. But that faraway place is his homeland. From here, you can see the forgotten beach, which you can't see. There were his companions and his beloved girl. That's all I can do for him.

I didn't see his ghost appear, so I had to leave there. Of course, after coaxing Brie to stop crying.

It's a pity that this young man lost his life here, but for me it hardly makes me feel anything, I've seen too much joy and sorrow in life and death, and I've experienced too much deceit.

Dying here is his fate, and maybe dying here isn't necessarily a bad thing.

I went to the beach where he was found, looking for the bodies of his two poor companions. I found the man's body, but it had been torn to shreds, and I couldn't match him anymore. And now it's frozen like a stone.

Perhaps it will disappear in a few days, and there is a large vulture in the field near the beach that can swallow large pieces of carcasses and even bones into their stomachs.

The body of the girl that Evenson had been thinking about was no longer there, only shredds of clothes and dried blood. The body was gone, and the clues were soon lost after following the trail.

If you become a wandering corpse, you really won't be able to look for it.

I saw the ghost of the man, he was wandering on the beach in a daze, he wanted to talk to the dead on the beach but no one paid attention to him, he was like a child who didn't know what to do, he kept wandering, crying.

I'm sorry I can't help him. Not only are there many geistes on the beach, but it's the will of the Lich King. The souls of the dead who have lost their bodies will forever hover this place, guarding this land forever.

You heard it right, it's the Lich King. It is his will. Not Arthas, of course, which is dead. Completely dead. The current Lich King is the second regent of the Stormwind Kingdom, the great Duke of Berval.

Hum...... That's right, it's him.

He is now the new master of the land, the new leader and restraining of countless undead scourges. A new guardian who ensures that the continents of Azeroth and Kalimdo are not washed by the Scourge Legion.

And I, on his land, this cold land of the most arctic far from the continent of Azeroth and the land of eternal starlight.

According to Evenson, it's been nearly twenty years since the Silver Crusade defeated the Lich King. Twenty years, two generations, in the twenty years that I have been isolated from the world in the ice and snow, perhaps my distant hometown has already undergone countless great changes.

After experiencing more, maybe people will become numb, or they may gradually forget the disasters that have happened, and those sad and tragic stories will be forgotten first, I know that is for sure, after all, not many people are willing to always lick their wounds to look back on the past suffering.

People still like to be happy.

Scold...... In fact, there is nothing to complain about now, this is all your own choice, it is your own pursuit, and it has nothing to do with others. Of course, I am not so noble, and I did not follow the expedition to Northrend for the sake of the people of this world. Just tell yourself that someone has to do it.

They will remember the Duke of Berval who left his body forever in Northrend, and they will even remember the emergence of a large number of heroic warriors who sacrificed their lives among the orc warriors who were originally mortal enemies.

Even the Crusaders are commemorated.

And I'm ...... No one is destined to remember, even if there is a single word in the traces of the years when Stormwind City fell and was rebuilt, it is not me......

They called me Bill, but that wasn't my real name at all. Maybe my original name will never be remembered.

All the people of the storm know my last name, even the babies.

They never call us by our first names, they call us by our last names with disgust or hatred or fear...... The surname that was completely nailed to the pillar of shame in history...... Van Cleef!

And I, the owner of that surname, was my brother who really made this surname a nightmare for all the Stormstorm people, and people would always affectionately call him Master Van Cleve.

And I prefer to call him Edwin.