Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 117 16. Virtue is tempered and justice is unleashed!
Diakum came with murderous intent of punishment.

But in fact, he did not draw his weapon until he entered the deepest part of the holy cave of the Burning Blade Clan.

The Blade of Lord Kazzak and the Untempered Ashbringer both sit quietly in the weapon slot of the Augurey Treasure Chest.

the reason is simple.

Weapons are used to challenge the strong
Those Fire Blade Warriors who had just drunk the blood of the devil were not considered strong in the eyes of the Sentinels.

What's more, he didn't come here alone.

Since they are new recruits with excellent talents, they should be given more combat tasks. Irel and Garona are the combat lieutenants and temporary inquisitors appointed by Diakum in this battle. They are armed with legendary weapons and even artifacts, and they have enough ability to deal with these fallen orcs who are driven crazy by demonic blood.

There were even legendary shamans like Ner'zhul and the elite warriors of Garadar to escort them, so Dick didn't have to worry about whether his children would suffer the shame of defeat.

Lantresor Fireblade's rage and "awakening" helped Diakum block "elite monsters" like Goen Bladefury.

But to be honest, Gao En, who relied on the demon blood to break through to the legendary level, would most likely not be able to gain any advantage in front of the Sentinel. As Lantreso commented, the demon blood would enhance the combat effectiveness of other orcs, but for the sword masters who needed to remain calm at all times to exert their strongest combat power, this overly violent force would weaken their destructive power.

At least before they can meditate for a long time and master the control of this demonic rage, the sword masters' combat effectiveness will actually be weakened.

They are combat masters who have achieved the pinnacle of combat skills in the world of Draenor. They should stick to their own path instead of blindly pursuing the improvement of absolute power.

The violent magic energy may even cause their blades to deflect and their arms to tremble.
It's like a surgeon has stooped to the level of a butcher.

The Sentinel turned on the scorching light of the Sun Herald and strode towards the depths of the holy land covered with magma. He could sense the presence of a powerful force there. Without thinking too much, he knew that it must be the Fire Blade Chieftain Old Dal Triple Blood Blade who had drunk the devil's blood.

That was also the perfect trial officer he had chosen for his "Blade Trial".

As they entered the secret place surrounded by magma and the temperature was extremely high, Diakum finally took out his weapon.

The untempered Ashbringer jumped into the palm of his hand. This heavy blade forged with celestial gold and the sacred fragments of Khala had experienced the chaotic battle of Highmaul and the slaying of the void corrosion. Its originally smooth and sculpted sword body had become "rough and clumsy" after experiencing the chaos of Highmaul.

It was as if the sword had been brutally smelted at high temperatures, causing the metal to even have strange cracks after melting and cooling for the second time. The high temperature of the blade also destroyed the smoothness of the blade. Judging from its appearance alone, it has fallen from a priceless holy object to a "broken weapon" that needs major repairs.

However, Diakum was very satisfied with the progress of "quenching".

This sword forged by holy light is gradually adapting to his white holy flame. The "synchronization rate" between him and this weapon is improving. Those cracks and uneven sword body are the process of removing impurities in the holy flame forging. He only needs one more "high-power" burning of holy power, and his weapon will be able to complete the final forging of breaking out of the cocoon and becoming a butterfly.

Although Ner'zhul suggested that Diakam complete the elemental tempering of this weapon destined to go down in history at the Burning Blade Sanctuary, the Vigilant had his own ideas about this from the beginning.

He would use the Holy Light to "sharpen" his weapon, and also let it withstand the test of morality and oath, until finally the weapon and the man became one. Only in this way could the Ashbringer become an extension of his Hand of Holy Light, and only in this way could this weapon accompany him to the end in the long battle that followed.

This is obviously an idea that only warriors would have.

But considering that Diakum's garrison officer brigadier general is a mixed profession, even if he does not have the label of "warrior", Diakum has been walking an impeccable warrior path since his awakening.

However, when Diakum decided to complete the final stage of the "Blade Trial" with the Ashbringer, he could clearly feel the dissatisfied hum of the Blade's Blade placed in the weapon slot.

It wasn't the weapon's thirst for battle, but simply the demonic spirit's fervor for destruction that resided within the battle staff.

It desperately hopes that the "Holy Light Butcher" can activate itself so that it can complete exquisite and ruthless destruction again and again, letting it drink of the despair of life to please its miserable current situation.

Unfortunately, at least in today's Fire Blade Sanctuary, there will not be a complete extermination carried out in Halvalo.

Because of the timely intervention of Mother Gaia and Ner'zhul, and the secret insistence of their "friend" Lantresor Burning Blade, the Burning Blade Clan has obviously not yet fallen to the point where it needs to be cleansed by the group.

It will be severely damaged by today's civil unrest and may even be divided due to the spread of extreme ideas, but the clan will continue to exist.

The Burning Blade Clan is a must-have for orcish traditions, serving as defenders, mediators, and itinerant warriors.

"He's one of your people, your warrior, your student, your child. Even if it's just a dispute of ideologies, does it have to go this far?"

When Dick walked into the Holy Land of Death, he saw the brown-skinned swordsman Samuro lying on the ground.

He raised his head and looked at old Dal Triple Blood Blade, who was sitting cross-legged beside the lava with the Burning Blade flat on his knees, concentrating and preparing for a battle. The Sentinel squatted down and pressed his gauntlet against the forehead of Samuro, who was only breathing his last breath.

The healing holy light transformed into the powerful healing of Holy Word: Life, pouring into the body of the dying sword master who fought for the honor of the clan. The shining light dispelled the pull of death, and under the dual release of pain suppression and holy healing, the unconscious Samuro opened his bloodshot eyes in the next moment.

He was gasping for breath, seemingly traumatized by the vision of facing death.

There was a trace of confusion in his eyes, but even in the most desperate moment, this young but extremely honorable brown-skinned swordsman did not let go of his shattered swordsman blade.

He really fought for his morality until the last moment.

"You are Lantresor's 'inside man' in Halvalo, right? A young but brave warrior."

Diakum asked in Orcish.

The rescued Samuro had never seen a saint, but he could confirm the identity of the Draenei "giant" just by the aura of the other party. When faced with the questioning of the sentinel, the young orc who had just experienced a near-death experience first reacted with a hoarse plea:

"The Burning Blade Clan can still be saved! Not all Blademasters are devoted to shameless destruction."

"Mother Gaiaan is rescuing those who are being held captive. I promise you, respectable warrior! Today, apart from those fallen who have drunk demon blood, no more noble blood will be shed in Havalor."

Diakum helped him up and let him lean against the stone wall covered with knife marks.

The saint said to him in a respectful tone:
"The future of your clan is in your own hands. I am only here to complete my trials. The Draenei have no interest in destroying Halvalor.

This is your home!
Having lost their own homeland, the Eredar will do everything in their power to protect the homes of others."

"Haha, that's nice to say!"

As Diakum stood up, Old Dal, who had been meditating beside the lava with his blade in hand, finally opened his bloodshot eyes. He stared at Diakum and the heavy blade in his hand, which didn't look like a divine weapon at all, and said:

"Because of you, the Burning Legion has set its sights on Draenor. Because of your concealment, my people have become minions of the devil. Because of your expansion, the orc clans are in constant fear. Because of your monsters, the spirits of our ancestors cannot rest in peace.

Is this what you call 'protection'?
hypocritical!"

The old swordsman stood up, blade in hand. As the battle-scarred Burning Blade Clan banner fluttered behind him, he shouted:

"I don't believe a word that bastard Gul'dan says! Even Warchief Blackhand's declaration of war isn't enough to sway me!
The reason why I drank the devil's blood is because I saw the future. It is because your existence will make this world turbulent. The peaceful era ended the moment your sky ship crashed here.

If the orcs cannot exterminate you before the demons arrive, then what awaits this world will be an abyss of no return!

The chiefs saw that disputes were bound to break out in the future, and they wanted to finish this battle in this era for the longevity of their clan and the peace of their descendants.

I'm old.

But I am also willing to dedicate everything to my people!

The demonic blood has brought back the strength of my youth, enough for me to personally settle accounts with the culprits! You, Draenei! You are the messengers of doom on this starry sea! The tragedy happening now and the despair that will be borne in the future are all caused by you.

"So, you think that after you slay the last Draenei with your flaming blade, the Burning Legion's defilers will leave this world alone?

You think that piling up the heads of the draenei, offering the treasures of our souls to the great demon with your bloody hands, will earn its mercy.

You think that by relying on the orcs to complete the "killing targets" imposed on you by the Burning Legion, you can give yourself and the world the "pardon" you deserve after your hard work.

You consider the bloodbath of Draenor a declaration of irreconcilable hostility towards us, and you seek to appease your new masters by doing so."

Diakum shook his head.

He grasped the crystal-forged hilt of the Ashbringer with both hands. Infused with the light ignited by the Holy Light, every crack on the blade seemed to be surging and shining with light-shaped energy.

He looked at the orc chieftain who was also assuming the starting stance of the Sword Saint's combat technique and said:

"Dal, I've heard your stories. In those tales passed down by the orcs, you always appear as a fearless warrior and a noble defender. In the eyes of countless young orcs, you are the embodiment of martial prowess and strength, and the staunch backbone of orc civilization.

You must be desperate now to believe the devil's whispers and promises to you.

But you would rather drink the devil's blood and turn yourself into a devil monster than believe that there is even a shred of goodwill, reconciliation or cooperation among us blue-skinned aliens.

You allowed a half-orc like Lantresor to join the Burning Blade Clan and even broke tradition by granting him the title of 'Sword Master'. This proves that you weren't a closed-minded orc chieftain when you were young, but why did you take this extreme path decades later?"

"It's complicated."

Chief Burning Blade shook his head.

His fingers brushed the edge of the Black Stone Blade, igniting the burning rune on the blade and filling it with flames. He said:
"Let me answer with my weapons, if you understand."

"of course."

Diakum swung his battle cloak, adorned with black wolf mane, and shouted as he charged forward:

"I'm all ears."

"boom"

The two blades collided in the next moment, Sanksu's flames boiling like a rebuke and war cry, while the Ashbringer remained silent. The intersection of the flames and the holy flames in the first confrontation caused the weapon to shatter into pieces, and the half-melted celestial gold fragments in the high temperature flew out and smashed into the rock wall.

Good guy!
Is this "explosive equipment"?

Samuro, who was leaning against the stone wall and watching the sword trial as a "witness", widened his eyes.

He couldn't understand why the Draenei saint would use a weapon that seemed to break at any time to participate in such a duel, but as the fierce sword fight between Dal and Diakum became more intense, Samuro gradually discovered the peculiarity of the sword.

Is it transforming?

Do not!
It is not accurate to say so, it is "shedding its shell and being reborn"!
Beneath the molten celestial gold shell, constantly stripped away by the wielding of martial arts and the collision of power, a sharper, stronger, and more scorching metal gleamed, just as the finest blacksmith placed the raw weapon on the forge, hammering it repeatedly to reshape it.

Old Dal is the forge, and the orc's legendary weapon, the flaming blade Sanksu, in his hand is the hammer that keeps hitting!

In a letter from his good friend Lantresor, Samuro learned that the Draenei saint wanted to use the elemental magma of the Burning Blade to temper a weapon, which was one of his purposes in participating in the Trial of the Blade.

But now it seems that Lantreso misinterpreted Diakme's meaning.

He participated in the Blade Trial to temper his own divine weapon, but the material he used was not the elemental magma of Havalo, but his own white holy flame.
Do not!
He was tempering this divine weapon with his own beliefs, morals, and actions. This tempering had already begun when he participated in the battle of Highmaul. Now the sword duel with Old Dal was not the beginning, but the end.

Samuro felt his weak body tremble.

He had a premonition that he would personally witness the birth of a "legendary divine weapon" today, which was an unparalleled honor for the Fire Blade Sword Masters who regarded weapons as their second life.

What Samuro could feel, Dal Triple Blood Blade, who was currently enduring the Wrath of Holy Light, could of course also feel, and as Diakum's opponent, what he felt was obviously more clear and direct.

It's not just the massive collision of weapons!

As he said, he wished to talk with weapons, and the Vigilante granted his request.

In the constant collision between two weapons with different powers, different morals, different holders, and even different oaths, he saw more of the truth beneath the appearance of this shining giant.

That was a conversation between warriors.

It is the true morality that cannot be concealed by exaggerated or misleading language!

Such a statement cannot be falsified.

Old Dal was getting more and more frightened as the fight went on. Even though Diakum suppressed the burst of excess holy power and tried to make this sword trial a pure battle of martial arts between the two sides, in the eyes of the old Fire Blade Sword Saint, he was facing more than just a simple Draenei warrior. The heavy burden that this man carried made him feel afraid.

It is not the fear of being under the pressure of power, nor is it the fear of being unrivaled, nor is it the fear of the weak towards the strong.

He felt the weight of Diakum's weapon. Just as he had taught Lantreso, a warrior wielding a sword was not a weapon to take someone's life. Every blow in battle was an expression of his own convictions and morality.

Strength can only determine the lower limit of destructive power, and what continuously raises the upper limit of individual combat effectiveness is not talent, but belief and will!
This is Diakum's understanding of the morality of Holy Light, and it is also the root of the motivation that has supported him to reach this step and obtain this power.

Can't win!
Just one minute into their fight, Old Dal, who had used Wind Step to dodge the Judgment of Ashes and the Holy Storm, had already come to this realization.

This is no longer a duel of martial arts, but a confrontation of beliefs between the two.

He even felt a sense of absurdity!
Old Dal, who had already drunk the devil's blood, confirmed that Diakum, who was silently swinging his sword, could "understand" him.

The Draenei saints fully understood the choices Dar TripleBloodblade made on both a personal and racial moral level, just as he had made the choice when faced with the fate of the Eredar more than 20,000 years ago.

The two had experienced the same pressure and faced the same enemy.

The Vigilant's anger towards Old Dal was not due to his personal decision to drink the demon blood, but simply because Old Dal's choice brought the Burning Blade people he had to protect into an almost irredeemable desperate situation.

This is not a personal vendetta.

That was the defender obligation that both men had to bear at the level of their respective races, forcing them to make the choice they had to make in such a situation.

It is obvious that the two warring parties made different decisions when faced with the same problem.

This is the source of the disagreement.

"boom"

The flaming blade, with killing fury, broke through the invisibility and struck at the sentinel's neck. As he was not wearing a helmet, that was almost the only flaw on his heavy armor. But the sentinel, as if assisted by God, raised the heavy blade, supported the back of the blade with his left hand, and blocked the decapitation blow before the sharp blade cut his neck.

Another piece of burning celestial gold fragment flew out.

The tempering of this Ashbringer has reached the final stage. It is like a shining silver sword, allowing it to finally burst out with its own supreme brilliance after getting rid of its ordinary appearance.

"boom"

The Archon of Light's talent was triggered by this attack, and a scorching halo spread out like a fist of holy light, striking Old Dal's body. The vibration of the weapon caused him to roll lightly and land in front of Diakum.

The power bestowed by the demonic blood defeated the traces left on him by time. Even in the face of the burning of the white holy flame, Dal Triple Blood Blade could continue to hold on.

He is not a sword master who will be defeated so easily. After all, in his heart, the belief of protecting the future of his people is still burning.

As he said, he did not drink the demon's blood because of Gul'dan's instigation or the war order of Chieftain Blackhand. He needed power, but gaining power was not the old orc's goal. It was just a means to achieve his goal.

But I can't win.
The Diakum in front of him was already impeccable in terms of combat skills.

Even though the Draenei's powerful and heavy attacks and the Orcish Swordmaster's graceful and lethal style are two different fighting styles, the Sentinel has indeed honed his vindicator skills and the techniques bestowed by the Holy Light to the ultimate limit.

He must have experienced many brutal battles that made old Dal tremble with fear.

However, this was not the reason for Chief Fire Blade to make a judgment. His will was burning, but facing the "defense barrier" that Diakum had forged with his will to protect the people and practice justice, Old Dal's burning will and firm morality could not be shaken.

He could feel his fighting spirit fading.
This was a fatal situation for a warrior engaged in a decisive battle.

"I carry the will of Argus and the world's contract on my shoulders. My hometown and my people still need me, so I will not fail in such a battle!"

Diakum's fingers brushed against the scorching, boiling blade of the Ashbringer, which was nearing completion of its tempering. He whispered:
"You cannot break the will of a world that has endured suffering for twenty-five thousand years, and so you cannot break me! The world we stand on, called Draenor, has never longed for a bloodbath in the name of salvation.

It longs to see its children strong enough to face the calamities that blow among the stars.

You misunderstand your world!

Your hometown is not as fragile as you think!

Abandon your obsession with victory or defeat, Fallen Dal Triple Blood Blade. Let us complete this duel of blades with the purest warrior's heart. As for who will inherit your resolve as a defender after you and your followers die.
I think the answer is self-evident.”

The old chief was startled when he heard this.

His eyes passed over Diakum and saw Samuro, who was struggling to stand up with the help of the wall, and Lantresor Fireblade, who was carrying his son's head and staggering into the cave.

Goen Bladefury lost.

Obsessed with the war philosophy advocated by Chieftain Blackhand and eager to gain glory for the orc civilization, he drank the devil's blood, but lost to a tribe member weaker than him.

That was the successor chosen by old Dahl.

He believed that Gao En and Cesk's talents were enough for him to lead the Burning Blade Clan, but now it seems that he may have been blinded by old age before drinking the demon blood.

But isn't this the tradition of the Burning Blade Clan?
Only warriors who are firm in their own morality and believe in defending the orc traditions are worthy of winning the title of "Sword Saint", and only warriors who are willing to sacrifice everything for their people are worthy of the respect of all clans.

It was I who brought shame to the battle flag that I had carried all my life. Fortunately, there are still young people who did not go astray.

"Hehe, hehe."

Old Dahl laughed with relief.

He reached out and pulled down the clan flag on his back, which was scarred by countless battles, and placed it aside carefully. Then he untied the ancient rosary around his neck, loosened his tied white hair, and moved his shoulders to allow the power brought by the magic blood to be continuously released in his rejuvenated body.

He looked at his strong, powerful fingers.
That touch of green is so dazzling!
"Tell my story to every orc who aspires to embark on the path of the swordmaster."

他 说:

"Let them remember this mistake, let them learn from me and never go down this extreme path! After my death, whoever inherits the position of Chieftain of the Burning Blade Clan must uphold the precious traditions and continue to let the name of the Swordmaster spread across the land of Draenor.

Tell this to future children!

The Burning Blade Clan will open its arms to every warrior who wishes to become a defender. When we carry this battle flag, there will no longer be any distinction between orcs based on their origins. We must transcend the narrowness of the clan in order to dedicate ourselves to a greater cause.

Delano isn't as fragile as I thought, kids.

It is strong enough and tough enough not to crave for false salvation in the shadows and fears, and its children should be as steadfast as this world!
It was my momentary lapse of judgment that brought shame upon you.

But the children of Delano are never afraid to admit their mistakes and make atonement, so..."

The moment Old Dal swung the Flame Blade, the flames all over the legendary sword suddenly retracted, causing the blade to be heated to a terrifyingly high temperature like flowing magma. As the blade passed through the air, the concentrated heat even caused a boiling visual dislocation.

He once again grasped the fully activated legendary sword in his hand, and pointed the blade at Diakum Zastins as the blade sang.

He said loudly:

"The Fallen Dal Triple Blood Blade! I challenge the saints of the alien race with my convictions. There is no third way, death or glory!"

"I accept your challenge, Fallen One. May the Holy Light forgive your soul!"

The saint stepped forward with his sword.

The Ashbringer in his hand also converged like a flame, and the white holy flame running on it was completely integrated into the tempered sword body at this moment, and its rising high temperature was no less than that of the Fiery Blade.

At this moment, Diakum completely suppressed the boiling of the holy light, and swung the blade like a pure warrior, colliding his honed fighting skills with Old Dal who let go and made one last effort.

It was a pure clash of skills, the essence of the ancient tradition of the Trial of the Sword.

Even if, someone is destined to die here today.

(End of this chapter)