Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 102 1. What? I'm the Sword Saint Chief? Is that true?
"The Burning Blade's fall is inevitable. Old Dar has refused my invitation to come to Tanaan Jungle. This is his choice! He will bring the Burning Blade's blademasters to join Warchief Blackhand's tribe, and we will eventually meet them on the battlefield."

In the orc town of Garadar, Dick was preparing his luggage for a long journey. Ner'zhul was beside him, taking the time to explain his arrangements for the Burning Blade Clan. The Shadowmoon Chieftain, who had regained his determination in the Holy Land of Oshu'gun, took out a special animal skin scroll from his arms and handed it to the Draenei saint in front of him.

He warned:

“But as far as I know, Old Dahl has not yet been able to unify the opinions within the clan.

After all, the situation of the Fire Blade Clan is special. The sword masters from different clans are not of one mind. Their emphasis on honor and maintenance of tradition gives us a precious opportunity. According to my calculation of time, Old Dal will definitely hold a clan meeting after returning to Halvalo.

That means, in the most extreme case, the Burning Blade Clan could be torn apart.

But that's no good for us!

I think we should put an end to this tragedy before Old Dal brings back the taint of demon blood and transforms the noble Burning Blade into a group of slaughterers.

This animal skin scroll is the 'Blade Trial' oath of the Burning Blade Clan. You must sign your name on it and I will hand it over to the elders of the Burning Blade Clan. As long as they accept this oath, after you complete the prerequisites of the Blade Trial, you can enter Halvalo openly as a trialist.

When Old Darl returns to the Burning Blade, you will initiate a Mak'gora against him, seizing the position of Chieftain of the Burning Blade in this traditional way.
If you win, the Burning Blade Clan's corrupt future will be shattered!"

"That sounds a bit idealistic."

Dick took the animal skin scroll, opened it, and looked at the words on it. He said to Ner'zhul:

"Let's not even mention whether Old Dal and those Sword Saint elders would accept my application for the trial at this moment. Just to say, in your tradition, no foreigner has ever been able to serve as the chief of a clan, right?"

"It certainly wouldn't work in other clans, but the Burning Blade Clan has its own national conditions. As I said before, rules are rules. The Burning Blade Clan's traditions weren't set today."

Ner'zhul explained:

"They have always recruited elite warriors from various tribes to become their own. This clan doesn't have a main lineage. The history of the Burning Blade Clan is full of precedents of wandering warriors from other clans becoming chiefs. They also don't reject outsiders coming to Halvalo to learn the way of the Swordmaster.

The reason there were no foreign chieftains before was simply because the orc warriors' attainments in the way of the swordsman were too terrifying, but you are fully capable of creating new history.

What's more, now is not the time to dwell on tradition.

Compared to the entire clan falling under Old Dal's leadership, we can save as many as we can! Even if the worst-case scenario is that the elders don't approve of Mak'Gora's outcome, we can at least eliminate the powerful generals under Chieftain Blackhand.

With the Swordmasters' terrifying mobility, destructive power, and stealth, once they are unleashed on the battlefield, all our walls and defenses will be rendered useless.

Many years ago, when our ancestors united to attack the Gorian ogres, the Burning Blade Masters employed this brutal yet effective method of warfare. To this day, their reputation for appearing and disappearing without a trace, and the sight of their Burning Blade banners waving as they emerge from the shadows, still strike fear into the ogres."

"I'm willing to try, but are you sure you have enough time?"

Diakum cut his finger with a knife and signed his name on the oath of the Blade Trial with blood.

At the moment the signature was completed, the flames of the elements ignited, leaving the signature with traces of black ash, proving that the oath had some other powers, perhaps being a magical object of elemental witness.

He returned it to Ner'zhul and asked:

"I need to go to the last capital of the Goria Ogre Empire first. A conservative estimate is that it will take at least ten days to half a month to return. Given the speed of the Sword Masters, I'm afraid..."

"Mother Gaiaan and I will do our best to delay!"

Ner'zhul said in a deep voice:

"The Burning Blade Clan doesn't just have swordmasters; they also have shamans who specialize in the art of war. Now that the spirits of our ancestors have been restored to freedom, all shamans who honor their ways are our natural allies.

With their assistance, delaying time is not a problem.

But you must first pass the preliminary assessment of the Blade Trial. I am not a member of the Burning Blade Clan, and I don't know much about the details of this mysterious trial open only to warriors, but I have found a helper and examiner for you.

He was a Fire Blade Sword Master with a special identity.

Although he is not one of the elders, he is quite prestigious in Talador and Nagrand, and is deeply respected by the local orcs. He is indeed qualified to be an examiner. All you need to do next is to complete the preliminary trials as quickly as possible under his guidance and then return to Halvalor."

Having said that, Chief Shadowmoon glanced at the giant blade of holy light placed next to the Saint of Vigilance. The weapon with a simple and brutal appearance made people feel a chill on their necks.

The old orc reached out and stroked the unfinished artifact forged by Holy Light, saying:

"I said before that I could help you quench the Ashbringer, and that wasn't empty talk. The Blackrock Clan is the most proficient in elemental forging among the orc clans. They once created artifacts like the Doomhammer.

Today, Chieftain Blackhand is the best among the orcish forging masters. The Blackstone Plate Armor and Dark Hand Hammer he forged for himself are both outstanding weapons.

However, the Blackrock Clan is not the only one that excels at forging weapons. The Burning Blade Clan's holy land, Halvalor, is also an elemental holy land where the power of the fire element gathers. The swords used by every swordsman of that clan are forged by them personally.

The generous blessing from the elements makes the Blademaster's Blade a legendary weapon in the world of Draenor.

The 'Flaming Blade Sanksu', which is only passed down among the chieftains of the Burning Blade Clan, is the most perfect representative. This means that as long as you complete the Blade Trial, the shamans of the Burning Blade Clan will do their best to complete the elemental tempering for your sword.

That means this artifact forged from Holy Light will also be blessed by the power of the elements, and its quality will be elevated to a higher level."

"If that clan can truly be saved, then I will do my best. We have already completed the most difficult part of the alliance between the two clans, and I don't mind doing more."

Diak'um, wearing a full set of Guiding Light Battleplate, nodded. He approved of Ner'zhul's plan, picked up his helmet, and stood up. He said:
"Moreover, saving souls and ensuring they don't fall under the temptation of darkness is the priest's duty. I am happy to fulfill my holy light morality in this way."

"Then you should set off."

Ner'zhul pointed outside the tent and said:
"Mother Gaiaan has prepared a strong enough two-headed dragon for you. It will carry you across the Nagrand Steppes and take you to the vicinity of Highmaul. We don't know the situation of the battle there yet, so you must be careful.

The examiner from the Burning Blade clan will be waiting for you halfway. He has promised me that he will select a trial target for you in the Nagrand grasslands."

"Ah."

Dick wrapped the exaggerated sword of the Ashbringer in animal skin and put it into the Augure treasure chest. Accompanied by the old orc, he strode out of the tent, and then he looked helplessly at the two young orcs standing in front of him.

Gayala was carrying a bag with an expectant look on her face.

Her companionship with Saint Diakum was due to her mother's request, but she herself did not mind following a powerful mentor to hone her martial arts and establish her own achievements. However, Garrosh, who looked unhappy next to her, was carrying a beast-skin bag and leaning on his battle axe, which made her feel a little helpless.

"Does Mother Gaia really trust me with taking her precious grandson to the battlefield?"

Dick turned back to Ner'zhul and said:

"I'm going to fight this time, trying to single-handedly resolve the crisis facing the Gorian ogres. Frankly, I'm not sure myself."

"This is the grasslands of Nagrand, Vigilant. The Warsong clan regards this place as their inviolable ancestral land, and Garrosh has the blood of the Warsong flowing in his veins."

Ner'zhul said in a deep voice:

"It's not even a question of whether Mother Geaan is willing or not. Garrosh simply cannot refuse this duty. He must contribute his own strength to the future of Nagrand Steppes. Fortunately, the child is well prepared for this.

I assure you, although he looks rude, that is just a cunning disguise of this guy. He has his own wisdom and will never cause you any trouble along the way."

"Well, in that case."

Dick stroked his chin and said to Ner'zhul:

"Then simply bring Dead Eye's son and Black Hand's daughter along! If these brave young men are determined to devote themselves to the great cause of saving civilization, let them dedicate themselves to the growth of the Alliance of K'ure from now on.

Ms. Draka asked me to train her daughters. My idea was that since I had to train them anyway, I might as well have more of them.

I will do my best to ensure their survival at Highmaul, and hopefully they will be able to keep up with the brutal combat training of the Hand of Argus."

"Tsk, it's not like I haven't dealt with your Hand of Argus veterans before."

Garrosh felt underestimated and complained:
"The Warsong Clan has been fighting the Krokuun Legion on this grassland for two hundred years. I admit that those thousand-year-old veterans are powerful, but that's all. They are not as strong as you boast!"

"That's because you're not demons, Garrosh. You should be thankful for that. The warriors under my command have bound all their malice and murderous intent to the 'Demon Slayer Oath'. This allows them to unleash a fighting power you can hardly imagine when facing demons.

But demons will soon arrive in this world, and when they do, you will witness the glory of demon-slaying at the hands of Argus."

Diakum put on his crown-like celestial golden helmet, dotted with blue crystal fragments, and said in a deep voice:
"I hope you, young man, won't be frightened by then. Come on, grab your weapons, we're going to the battlefield!"

Soon, a group of five two-headed dragons flew away from the Garadar camp in the dawn light.

As Diachem requested, the sleepy Jorin Deadeye and Griselda Blackhand, with a bandage around her neck, were asked to join the war adventure.

The two-headed dragon of the Daughter of Blackhand is particularly huge and covered with armor. It is obviously a carefully trained beast leader. That is her "privilege" as the daughter of the Blackrock Chief. There is a comfortable large saddle on its back, and she and her three Valkyries sit on it.

Speaking of which, Griselda Blackhand's three Valkyrie guards also have "important backgrounds."

When they first appeared, Dick felt that these three sturdy female orcs looked very "familiar".

Later, after spending a long time in contact with them, he remembered from the unique fighting styles and exquisite coordination of these three guys that these were the three "Iron Valkyries" who served Blackhand in Draenor in another timeline?

Warrior Gar'an, Assassin Sukka, Hunter Malaka.

Three extremely talented Blackrock female orcs with very interesting names can hardly find opportunities to display their combat power and talents in the current Blackrock Clan. They are very loyal to their mistress Griselda Blackhand because this brave lady discovered them and gave them the possibility to display their power.

But these three female warriors are not only good at fighting, they are also the "think tank" that Griselda has found for herself.

For example, at this moment, when a team of two-headed dragons flew over the Nagrand grasslands at high altitude, the female warrior Garan, who was changing the dressing on Griselda's wound, carefully glanced at the Draenei saint in front of her.

She bared her teeth and whispered to the hostess:
"Madam, do you truly believe that this so-called 'Alliance of K'ure' can bring any benefits to the orcs? Even if it does, are these benefits truly so great that you dare to rebel against your father?"

"Yes, Mistress, I always feel that your choice is a bit too hasty."

Assassin Sokka polished his fist blade and whispered:

“Now is a good opportunity!
We can take this opportunity to slip away and return to Tanaan Jungle to report to the Warchief on Oshu'gun. We should tell the Warchief about the ugly role played by Gul'dan and his Shadow Council.

Persuade him to chop off the warlock's dog's head!"

"Or, we can be more direct." Malaka, the ruthless hunter wearing a black eyepatch and holding a dragon bone bow, suggested:

"The battlefield is too chaotic. Even a Draenei saint can die in danger when bad luck strikes. Bring his head back to the fortress and your father will surely see your glory."

Faced with the persuasion of the three people, Griselda Blackhand shook her head.

Although her throat injury was healed by the Sentinels, the scar left behind still caused her pain every time she opened her mouth. The Daughter of Blackhand's mind was now filled with the words her idol, Lady Draka, had said to her on Mount Oshu'gun.

After a few seconds, Griselda endured the pain and said in a hoarse voice:
"Submissive obedience leads only to long-term slavery!
Lady Draka showed me the future I should choose. Sisters, instead of serving my father, why don't we challenge him? Why not win our glory with our own hands?
The unfair Blackrock Clan is not worth your and my life, but we can shape our own clan!

After defeating my father and taking the honorable position of Chieftain of Blackstone, I will personally build it into a clan that does not judge the future by gender or birth. By then, anyone with ability will be able to come to the fore.

Gar'an, you will be my Hand of the Warchief!
Sokka, you will be my Chieftain's Shadow!
Malaka, I will give you the honor of leading the Wolf Riders to hunt down all the Chief's enemies!

Sisters, we should embark on our own glorious path. The peaceful coexistence advocated by the Alliance of K'ure is indeed naive in my opinion, but compared with the degeneration and destruction of the entire civilization and even the world, we have no choice.

Unless you're willing to try that damn potion that bastard Gul'dan handed you.

You personally executed the four demon-blooded orcs that my father gave me. Would you be willing to become a monster like that?"

"Of course not, Mistress."

Soldier Jia'an bared her teeth, moving her shoulders uncomfortably, and said:

"The scene of executing those monsters gave me chills. When I thought about our people turning into greenskins like that, I felt despair about the chief's rule."

"Ruling over a group of monsters is not an honor."

Sokka also shook his head and said:

"Compared to that kind of future, even dying in battle would be a relief."

Malaka didn't answer, but she lowered the bow she had been aiming at Saint Diakum. She looked around and said to her mistress:
"If you insist on taking this path, then we should start now to find ways to promote your reputation. You will stay here and follow this saint to fight for the future of your clan. The three of us will return to Gorgrond and recruit those members of the Blackrock Clan who are unwilling to drink the demon blood for you in their ancestral land.

Whether you're fighting or looking to the future, you need your own army!"

"I have a better idea!"

The female warrior Garan had excellent strategic vision. She rolled her eyes and said to Griselda:
"We should go to Frostfire Ridge and find Orgrim Doomhammer! He has always held a grudge against Gul'dan, and he's highly respected in the clan and has taken good care of you. He values the clan's future and his own honor more than his own life, and he'll surely understand your choice."

"And the Warlord of Eitrigg!"

Suka also suggested:

"Eitrigg is the wisest High Warlord of the Blackrock Clan. If it means leaving a glimmer of hope for the clan, he will certainly not refuse! As long as these two are willing to help, even if just a little slips through their fingers, you will have a formidable army in an instant."

"You guys go during the break! This Iron Dragon Mistress will be yours to control."

Griselda coughed and said:
"Gaiara and I can just share one dragon. Sisters, our future is in your hands. I swear on my life that I will never let you down like my father did!"

The four tough female orcs quickly made a plan.

After flying for more than an hour, when everyone landed, the three Valkyries flew away on their dragons. Diakum did not stop them. No matter what Griselda was planning, it was the internal affairs of the Blackrock Clan.

It would be better for him, a saint from another race, not to interfere casually.

He was now looking for the "examiner" of the Burning Blade Clan according to the location left by Ner'zhul. There was a bonfire that had not yet been extinguished on the river bank where they landed, and it was obvious that the guy was nearby.

"Come out!"

Diakum took off his helmet and shouted:

"Your Wind Step is powerful, blending with the shadows almost perfectly, but I can still detect you."

No one responded to Dick's call. There was only the whistling of the wind in the surrounding grass, as if there was no one here.

But the saint reached out and took the Demonic Spine Spear from Gaiara, weighed it in his hand, and threw it casually towards the grass in front of him. A flash of light flashed before the spear landed on the ground.

The halberd stabbed into the ground with a whoosh, and the hidden figure of the Fire Blade Sword Saint also appeared from his hiding.

Standard swordsman attire.

He wore black combat leather armor, carried a Fire Blade battle flag on his back, had his hair tied up in a simple bunting at the back of his head, wore combat beads around his neck to gather elemental power, and carried a Fire Blade Sword Saint's battle sword on his back.

The weapon that blocked the spear just now was not a sharp blade, but just a small knife used for skinning.

He stared at Diak'um and the orcs in front of him, and they stared at him. Then Garrosh exclaimed:
"A 'Half Osen'?"

"whoosh"

The other party's voice disappeared in a flash, and when it appeared again, the skinning knife was already against the neck of the roaring young man. It was obvious that the word "Haver Olsen" made the half-blood swordsman very dissatisfied.

"Don't bully kids!"

Diakum whispered:
"We don't have that much time to get to know each other, Lantresor Fireblade. If you are really the one Chief Ner'zhul has asked to help you, then let's start the Trial of the Blade now."

The half-blood swordsman in front of him looked Dick up and down.

Like Dick's "granddaughter" Garona, he has skin that is between brown and blue. His half-Draenei blood makes him a lot stronger than the average orc, and he has flexibility and agility that breaks the limits of orcs, but the slight hunchback caused by his orc blood is still unavoidable.

However, he did not have the beautiful Draenei pupils like Garona, but there was a barely visible glimmer around his pupils.

Compared to the "perfect hybrid" like Garona, the bloodline of the swordsman in front of him is more focused on the orc side, perhaps because his father is an orc and his mother is a draenei, which is exactly the opposite of Garona's situation.

"Alright! The first level of the Blade Trial."

Lantresor Fireblade stretched his shoulders, pulled out the clan flag from behind him, and stuck it into the ground with a bang. Then he reached out and grasped the hilt of the sword behind him, making a "come" gesture to Diakum.

He said sparingly:
"Sparring, hold out for five minutes! You cannot drop your weapon, you cannot evade or dodge, and you cannot be hit more than seven times."

Dick raised his eyebrows, took out the Ashbringer from his bag, and placed the giant blade on the ground. He said:

"What if I beat you?"

"You can not!"

The Burning Blade Sword Saint said seriously:
"If I want to leave, you can't stop me."

"Indeed, the Sword Saint's terrifying mobility is a headache, but I still plan to give it a try."

Diakum looked at this "old acquaintance" before him. He put on his helmet with a smile, raised the heavy blade with both hands, and said:
"I have good news, Lantresor. You don't have to be afraid to strike hard just because we're sparring! I'm a legendary priest. As long as you don't kill me on the spot, I can save myself. So, let's fight with real weapons!

Come to think of it, I also have a granddaughter named Havre Olsen."

Faced with this "provocation", Lantreso narrowed his eyes for a moment. The moment the black sword engraved with fire patterns was unsheathed, the sword master's body shook and three lifelike elemental mirrors took turns to cover the main body's attack and attacked Diakum.

The first move is the ultimate move!

He obviously thought Diakum was mocking his lineage, but the saint was really just speaking the truth.

------

"Cough cough."

A violent coughing sound came from the prison van, prompting Lelan, who was on her way, to rush over to check on her "daughter". She looked at Garona, whose condition was getting worse and worse, with concern and said:
"Hold on, daughter. Your uncle Nobundo has found the traces of those white walkers. Before leaving, Yolin Deadeye gave us a warlock's spell that can help us find the traces of your Dominion Orb. You will recover soon."

"Don't worry about me, Mother."

Garona curled up in the prison car with her arms folded. She tried her best to resist the dark temptation that kept echoing in her mind. She said to Leilan with a trembling body:

"Don't look for it, it's a trap! Gul'dan won't let me go so easily. Anyone who tries to save me will be dragged into hell by me. Kill me, mother, and give me a glorious release!
I don't want to implicate you anymore, nor do I want to be an accomplice of darkness anymore."

"Stop talking nonsense!"

Leland scolded:
"I worked so hard to raise you, not to see you showing such a weak expression at this moment! What do those weak tears of yours mean?
Hang in there, kid, Uncle Diakme will help too.

Your so-called grandfather easily defeated Gul'dan, and I believe a mere Orb of Domination wouldn't be enough to stop him."

"The Draenei saint will protect you because you are his child, mother, but I am only a half-orsen."

Garona sighed:

"He has no reason to protect me. I'm only half draenei."

"Don't be silly. The Vigilant protects more than just the Draenei. His kindness and sense of duty are not as narrow as you think."

Lelan reached out her hand and stroked Garona's sweaty forehead in the cage. She encouraged him:
"Those he protects must never let him down. This goes for me, and for you too! Hold on, there will always be a ray of light shining through the darkness for you and me."

"But darkness can extinguish even the weakest light, Mother."

Garona curled up tighter and whispered:

"Darkness is not your domain. Gul'dan will set an ambush there. My soul is his bait. He wants to use it to capture your saint. His light will be extinguished, but he seems to be a good man.
Don’t let him come.”

"Lelan! Prepare for battle. The talisman given by Yolin points to the White Ghost's lair ahead! The Domination Orb is there!"

Yrel's shout came from the front, causing Lelan to grab her sapphire staff. She gave Garona a smile and turned to support her companions. She would never give up. This unspoken belief made Garona cover her head. She pinched her skin, gritted her teeth, and whispered:

"Get out! Get out! I won't hurt them again as you wish, you bastard, Gul'dan! I will chop off your head with my own hands!"

(End of this chapter)