Prince
The Sun King trapped Kael'thas in an impossible corner with a single, devastating sentence.
What rational elf would willingly commit suicide to become a rotting lich?
Setting aside the immortality granted by the World Tree to the night elves, high elves possessed naturally extraordinary lifespans—tens of thousands of years stretched before them without concern.
Azeroth blessed the elven races with remarkable generosity. They maintained their youthful beauty for ninety percent of their existence, preserving the appearance of stunning men and women from their hundredth year of adulthood until mere decades before death's approach.
Most elves worshipped beauty above all else. Except for deranged dark magic cultists such as Dar'Khan Drathir, no sane individual would voluntarily destroy themselves to assume such a hideous form.
Naturally, being cornered by a master wizard of Antonidas's caliber with no possibility of escape, facing imminent death—that presented entirely different circumstances.
Though it pained him to acknowledge it, undeniable evidence suggested that the deceased Master Antonidas had emerged far more powerful than before.
The brutal choice loomed before them:
Die first, rise as a pathetic weakling, then serve in eternal slavery?
Or plunge willingly into darkness's embrace from the start?
When death became the inevitable foundation, the decision required no contemplation whatsoever.
Unfortunately, nobody wished to perish, especially under such forced and humiliating circumstances.
Without warning, Prince Kael'thas found himself the focal point of over ten thousand elite warriors who had arrived to defend their sovereign.
Countless razor-sharp gazes pierced Kael'thas from every direction. The sensation surpassed physical torture—each stare cut deeper than any blade. Behind him, the desperate voices of his people rang out with crystal clarity:
"We refuse to sacrifice our beauty for power!"
"Lead us in rebellion against your father!"
"Kael'thas, your father has died—whatever remains is not him! You are our rightful king now!"
"Why should the living bow to the commands of a corpse!?"
Those brave enough to risk everything fighting back against such malevolent forces were certainly no cowards. Without exaggeration, the warriors assembled here represented the absolute finest Quel'Thalas had ever produced.
They possessed courage, strength, and unwavering loyalty to their kingdom.
All they lacked was a banner to rally behind in their battle against evil.
Clearly, they desperately wanted Kael'thas to become that banner!
Kael'thas embodied everything admirable—gentle yet strong, sincere, immensely powerful, with an impeccable reputation. He stood as a paragon for all of Quel'Thalas, and in this moment of crisis, he represented their only hope for salvation.
Even knowing they faced impossible odds against such overwhelming evil, the elves' hearts hammered against their ribs, yearning to hear their beloved prince declare resistance.
More than that! Even the faintest cry of defiance would send them charging against the corrupted Sun King without a moment's hesitation.
Anasterian, who would drag his entire race into death's abyss merely to avoid his own mortality, had forfeited any right to rule them!
But...
But...
Crushing disappointment awaited them all.
Kael'thas's lips trembled wordlessly, and his robes shook so violently that everyone could see his tall, powerful frame convulsing beneath the fabric.
"Your Majesty, you must—" Lor'themar Theron suddenly shouted, desperately trying to snap Kael'thas from his paralysis!
The dead have passed beyond this world!
The dead possess no claim to kingship!
If only Kael'thas, the legitimate prince, would raise his arm and proclaim himself king, every soldier present would recognize his authority immediately.
Yes! At this crucial moment, Kael'thas already was king in every meaningful sense—he needed only take that single, small step forward!
Nobody anticipated what happened next. Kael'thas would... slowly sink to his knees.
Pure submission to his father, to the former king.
Whether genuine or coerced, he knelt.
Nearly every living high elf felt searing shame burn through their souls—the most brutal humiliation, as if each had been savagely lashed across the face. The prince they had placed such towering hopes upon was nothing but a spineless coward!?
"Your Highness! How could I have misjudged you so completely!" Halduron Brightwing, positioned near Kael'thas, roared in anguish!
But a more powerful female voice cut through his cry. Lor'themar's voice thundered: "You still call him Your Highness? Someone who shows no basic respect for the living doesn't deserve to be our king!"
Instantly, two massive magical hands materialized from thin air, striking both ranger generals with thunderous impacts that sent them flying. The spectral hands then pinned them to the ground. Under the crushing weight of that mysterious magic, they could only emit strangled groans while losing all ability to speak!
The Sun King's voice resonated once more: "Come, approach me, my child. As a ruler, you must possess the strength and majesty befitting your station. You need not concern yourself with their opinions—nobody will oppose us father and son. They will soon grovel before us as immortals. They shall serve as our subjects for all eternity."
The voice itself carried overwhelming magical power—the kind that completely transcended Grand Magus level, terrifying magic so vast and incomprehensible that it crushed any thought of resistance before it could form.
Kael'thas Sunstrider... had surrendered!
Some might wonder why Kael'thas capitulated so effortlessly?
There exists a reason why this man—who in history would lose his homeland, first ally with the Alliance only to be framed and condemned to death, then be betrayed and rescued by Lady Vashj, struggle unsuccessfully under Illidan's command, and finally pledge allegiance to the utterly unreliable Kil'jaeden before complete corruption consumed him—possessed such a pattern of submission.
Someone once observed that massive adult elephants remain tethered by tiny iron chains attached to small stakes. This occurs because when the elephant was young, no amount of struggling could break that small chain. After failing day after day, the shadow of defeat became deeply embedded in its psyche, forming an unbreakable habit that became part of its very existence—the absolute certainty: I cannot resist this chain.
Consider this from another perspective. In human kingdoms, monarchs rise and fall frequently, making twenty years as crown prince an exceptionally long tenure. But given the extended lifespans of high elves, serving as crown prince for a thousand years presented no particular hardship.
Over a thousand years of accumulated authority!
Over a thousand years of systematic conditioning!
Despite periodic resistance, Kael'thas had never once successfully challenged his father's dominance. This alone planted an indelible seed of failure deep within his heart.
If Kael'thas possessed sufficient courage, he would have overthrown the Silvermoon Council and restored full royal authority long ago.
If Kael'thas harbored enough ruthlessness, he would have secretly poisoned his father and claimed the throne centuries past.
If...
This world contains countless possibilities, yet only one result emerged—Kael'thas, nurtured within this inescapable semi-sheltered environment, developed a severe deficiency in both courage and decisive action.
This explains why we have Kael'thas, who perpetually places his faith in stronger powers.
This explains why we have this cowardly prince who would follow orders even unto death.
Time seemed to crystallize into stillness.
The very air appeared to solidify.
Every living elf wore expressions of absolute horror and blazing fury.
They understood with perfect clarity that the death awaiting them would be agonizing and degrading!
Yet nobody dared stand against the terrifyingly powerful Undead King!
Who?
Who else remained?
Did no hero exist among the High Elves with the courage to confront such a monstrous tyrant?
In this long-awaited moment, when every elf's soul cried out for a hero and leader, a female voice rang out across the square!
"I OBJECT!"