And you, shall be crowned King

Four years had passed in Azeroth.

Seven years had passed in the real world.

In these four years, the world of Azeroth had gone through so many changes, so many storms. Three years seemed like the blink of an eye, but it also felt like countless years.

For four years, he had not moved at all.

Here, Arthas bade farewell to his past, bade farewell to ner 'zhul who had been trying to control him, and bade farewell to his past humanity.

From this moment on, he only represented his own will.

He had won.

However, at this moment, a voice rang in his ear.

"The child."

"When you were born, the forest of Lordaeron called out your name."

"Arthas,"

When the majestic background music sounded, when the familiar figure on the ice throne reappeared, everyone felt hot tears in their eyes.