Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 169: 66. The Greenskin's Burial: The Black Wolf God Sends You Home
The Wolf Priest informed Blackhand of Orgrim's plan.

He knew that the weak guy he had watched grow up had no intention of staying in Tanaan Jungle to fight the Alliance of K'ure. The first thing the second warchief of the War Horde did after taking office was to escape with his people.

This is not an orcish decision at all, it's a shame.

The Black Wolf God also gave him a choice.

Lycanthos demands that Blackhand, the unsuccessful contender for the leader of the pack, perform one last noble service to his pack.

This is a cruel choice.

But Black Hand knew he had no choice, he couldn't even get past his own level.

After all, he was an orc who had been a warchief. Compared to burying his dignity, hiding his identity in Draenor to avoid the eternal wanted list of the Alliance of K'ure, expecting his daughter to pretend not to have seen him for the sake of father-daughter love, or being tied up and pushed to the judgment seat in Shattrath City to be judged by the blueskins, it would be better to fight the leader of the Draenei while he still had the heart of a warrior!

Challenging death when there is no way to survive, this is the choice an orc would make!

The Black Wolf God told him that Diakum, the Overlord of Doom, had been killed and was in a weakened state. According to Chief Black Hand's estimation, if he fought desperately, with the power of the Black Wolf God and the wolf pack, he should be able to hold Diakum off for at least several dozen minutes.

But it turned out that he thought too much.

Just three minutes into the fight, Blackhand was forced to constantly roll and dodge the slashing holy blades in order to avoid being beheaded.

As for the wolf pack he placed his hopes on.
The brave descendants of Lycanthos will now be chased everywhere by the "Fifty Good Brothers" of the Dog Saint. Under the continuous polishing of the Holy Light, Diakum's Kings Guard has long grown to the level where they can deal with legendary demons on their own.

It can also transform into a stream of light and fly back and forth on the battlefield. With the protection of this archangel, the surrounding wolves cannot affect the decisive battle between the Sentinel and the former chief.

"boom"

The Ashbringer wrapped in holy flames chopped down on his head, but was blocked by Black Hand's famous "Hand of Rock". However, Diakum's tremendous force shattered the solid stone skin on his arm that was cooled by magma. The high-temperature sword mark left behind even reheated this unique rock, making Black Hand feel a burning pain.

He rolled to his feet, panting, stretched his fingers, and grabbed his warhammer again.

There was no hope of survival.

The sentinel in front of him, wearing a wolfskin cloak, had a cold look in his blue eyes. There was no trace of mercy. Reflected in his eyes was a sin-ridden soul. Letting Blackhand go here would be a blasphemy against the justice of Draenor.

"Fight, no need to think."

The whisper of the Black Wolf God echoed in Black Hand's ears, causing the Great Chief to grit his teeth and completely extinguish the last thought of escape in his heart.

He roared and rushed towards Diakum. He swung his dark hand with brute force and smashed it at the half-giant in front of him, but the other party blocked it with his sword.

The Dark Hand Hammer is a specially crafted weapon.

This legendary weapon, forged by Blackhand using elemental forging techniques, contains an everlasting fire from elemental lava, keeping it at a deadly high temperature. Only Blackhand's stone fingers, which cannot feel pain, can wield it perfectly.

This brutal weapon is like Blackhand's personality.

Fierce, cruel, and blazing, he longs for a raging burn rather than a slow die-off. The flaming hammer represents his endless pursuit of victory.

He longed to use the Blackrock Clan's fire to burn the weak world and create an extremely powerful orc civilization. For this, he drank the blood of the devil and followed the wolf pack.

He considered himself a warrior, so he should control all the power in the world just to win the victory.

The Dark Hand's hammerhead erupted in flames, but it was completely unable to affect Diakum's sharp counterattack. When the Holy Slash was fully charged, as the blade swung, a violent burst of burning light struck the Dark Hand's chin like a heavy punch. Even as he staggered back, he still tried to defend against the next attack.

But in the Holy Charge brought about by the convergence of the light, the half-giant holding the sword in both hands roared and killed, and the moment the weapons collided, Blackhand knew that he was finished.

Can't stop!
So, is this how Grom felt at the time?

"puff"

Diakum's holy blade was blocked for a moment but then poured down like a torrent, completing a perfect kill in front of Black Hand's eyes.

The blazing blade slashed into the shoulder, and the force pushed Blackhand's body almost completely apart. Blood gushed out from the laceration. The power of the Black Wolf God was taking effect, trying to lock Blackhand's vitality, trying to make him enter the death wish of "trading injury for strength".

However, how could this technique, which had been used once on Grom before, work a second time against the Warrior of Light?
"Get out!"

The Sentinel stepped forward, sword in hand.

The first sword cut off Black Hand's left arm, the second sword smashed through the chief's heart, and the third sword slashed across his neck. When the holy flame on the blade dissipated, only a headless corpse was left behind him, which shook a few times and then fell to the ground.

The tumbling head fell to the ground.

When Diakum turned around, he happened to look into Black Hand's eyes, which were wide open in death.

There was still a hint of anger in his eyes, but the battle was over.

The wolves in the surrounding woods that were killed by the kings' guards let out mournful howls one after another, and then disappeared into the woods as quickly as they appeared.

The glorious Kingsguard gave chase, trapped a legendary demon wolf under their swords, and took it and its offspring away in a fiery "Incineration Explosion".

The jungle, which had been noisy just a moment ago, became silent, like a dark and cold cemetery.

Diakum put away the holy blade, bent down and picked up Blackhand's head, and burned the filthy flesh and blood with the holy flame in his palm, leaving only an extremely standard orc skull.

"When I woke up, I could have killed you. I didn't do that not because of how powerful you or your war clan were."

The Sentinel blew away the ashes around the skull, and as if to comfort the dead, he whispered:
"I used the threat you brought to the world to forge the unity of the Alliance of K'ure, giving this small world the possibility of fighting and surviving the Burning Crusade. You've been a jerk all your life, Blackhand, but in the end, you did some good.

At least you didn't kneel down and serve the devil like a dog, and you even had the courage to face me in the name of the clan.

Well, I admit you're a warrior, but that's all."

He threw out a ball of holy fire to burn Blackhand's body, picked up the dim Dark Hand hammer, waited for a moment by the flame, and finally picked up Blackhand's "Black Hand" tempered by the elemental magma of Draenor, wrapped it with the cloak of the great chief, and then left here.

The howling of Mag'har orcs could be heard in the distant jungle, and Griselda Blackhand was probably among them.

Since she had killed her father, she must bring the remains to the child.

However, after entering the jungle, Diakum stopped. In front of him, a spiritual black wolf walked out from the shadows and squatted in front of the sentinel like a warg. Its dark green eyes stared at him without hostility.

"You completed the Loa God's ascension so quickly, and were even able to create a spirit body that can walk in the mortal world. Your process of switching from the Fel Force to the Death Force must have been assisted by someone behind the scenes."

Dick looked at it and said:
"Should I ridicule you for being content to serve as a dog for conspirators? Or should I say that you, the wolf, have truly inherited Goldrinn's character, never content to obey a single force and treating betrayal as commonplace?
Life, Fel Energy, and Death, Lycanthos, you have become a true slave to all three surnames!"

"You can sarcastically mock me all you want, Diakum Vigilante."

Lycanthos' spirit replied nonchalantly:
"I'm not here to argue with you. I just want to use Blackhand's death to prove one thing to you: the souls of the dead green-skinned orcs will not go to the twisting void. They will enter the realm of death under my guidance.

The demonic blood in their bodies will dry up over time, and then, simply by dealing with the source of the pollution, these half-demons will return to pure flesh and blood. They will eventually become one of the stars, hunting the starry sea with my wolf pack, fighting to the death.
I just want to ask you, even beg you, to let them go."

"Such a weak plea doesn't sound like something a Loa would say."

The Vigilant said:

"I also can't find any reason to allow the greenskins to rush into another world and bring more disasters. The commandments of the Holy Light don't allow me to do that."

"But that was destined. The ill-fated relationship between Draenor and Azeroth was already determined during the era of the Great Order of Light and Darkness. You can use your own efforts to change the fate of Draenor, but you cannot resist the powerful potential of fate.

The green orcs will definitely enter Azeroth, it’s just a matter of numbers.

Even without the orcs, Medivh would have found other forces to serve as his 'teaching stick'. He watched you throughout the process as you used the threat of the warring tribes to forge the unity of the Alliance of K'ure.

He just needs to repeat your experience in his world."

Lycanthos shook his head and said:

"You and I both know what's in Medivh's soul. Are you sure it's a good idea to awaken him now?"

"I can't just sit back and watch this disaster happen."

The Sentinel's answer disappointed Black Wolf.

It stood up and left, but before dissipating, it reminded:
"Are you sure your current thoughts are your own, or the result of the Holy Light's discipline? Saint, don't you realize you're losing your humanity?

The Holy Light hopes to see a selfless, enthusiastic, fair, and wise leader. He shaped you in that way, and you are so charming, so perfect, so glorious, but you just don't have the freshness of life that should be there.
You are destined to lead the People of Light, but at what cost? Diak'um. I have become a loa. I see realms invisible to mortals. Your connection to the mortal world is being severed by the Light, just as those demons succumb to the fel's rampage.

Under the favor of the Holy Light, you are about to become another kind of 'demon'.

You've come too far.

You have begun to confuse the doctrines of the Holy Light with your personal morality. You are obsessed with fighting against fate. Your ideals are so grand that you can only move forward with a heavy burden, but you ignore whether the direction is correct.

The way you change fate is too rough! You can shape the fate of Draenor by yourself because this world is small and changing fate requires little power, but can you fight against the heavy fate of Azeroth on your own?
Even if I burn you all and throw you in there, you won’t even make a sound!

Every time you fight against fate, you need the help of the Holy Light, and every time the Holy Light helps you, it will inject more divinity into your body! But you are a person, not a sculpture born only to fight against fate.

Do you have your own fun?

Do you have any hobbies?

Is your union with Archbishop Nari based on love, or is it just a way for you to save yourself with what little you have left?

Don't move forward blindly in the light, don't let it mold you, go find yourself in the shadows, this may be your last chance to look back! We will meet again in Azeroth, and I hope that by then, I can see a more rational rather than a self-sacrificing soul full of divinity.

You know, Holy Light doesn’t want to see you sacrifice like this either.”

The black wolf disappeared into the forest, and Diakum continued forward in silence.

He saw the Mag'har orcs riding their wargs. After a brief wait, Griselda Blackhand, who received the news, rushed over like crazy accompanied by Gaiara.

She leaped from the wolf and saw the skull, the hand of stone, and the dim flaming hammer that the saint had placed on the stone before her.

That was the last trace of her father.

For many years, Griselda had been full of resentment towards her father, but when she saw her father's remains with her own eyes, this strong female warrior who always tried to meet her father's requirements burst into tears.

She knelt before Black Hand's skull, never having been so distraught and grief-stricken.

She resented her father, yet she took him as her goal and role model in life.

But now, she has lost him.

"If it's any comfort to you"

Diakum put his hand on Griselda's shoulder and whispered:
"Although your father's soul was not allowed to return to the ranks of the ancestral spirits, he did not fall into the Twisting Nether. The Black Wolf took him and took him to the other side. I suspect he will reach a place where he can fight and conquer forever.

For him, that was the perfect place to be.”

The Vigilant paused, picked up the Dark Hand Hammer and handed it to Griselda. He said:
"And if the Death Force's machinations continue, perhaps one day in the future you will see him again, as an enemy, launching the Mak'gora you've always dreamed of against your father."

"really?"

Griselda wiped her tears.

She looked at the Sentinel, who nodded and said:
"A Light Walker cannot lie, so I'm not comforting you as one. Stay strong, the battle isn't over yet."

"Ok!"

The daughter of Blackhand took up her father's hammer and, as she swung it, reignited the eternal fire that emanated from the depths of the magma of Gorgrond.

"Your two brothers will not allow this weapon to remain in your hands."

Gaiara whispered to her battle sister:

"They will definitely try every possible way to challenge you or even murder you."

"Wouldn't that be better?"

Griselda bared her teeth and said with red eyes:
"When father was alive, I gave in to them. Now that Blackhand is dead, let's show the three of us who are truly capable and who is the most qualified to be the Chief of Blackrock!"

"Saint! Prince Margok has sent back a message!"

A Crow Man fell from the sky and reported to Diakum:

"They've already adjusted the position of the Breath of Rukhmar. The Claw King is ready to bombard the Greenskins' Dark Portal at any moment! They're awaiting your orders. Furthermore, the warriors of the Alliance of K'ure are being teleported to our area, ready to launch a decisive attack on the War Horde's last stronghold!"

“No need to wait any longer.”

Diakum waved his hand and said:
Let the Breath of Rukhmar roar, and let warriors take to the battlefield! I hate to let any greenskin escape this world, but if they must go, let them go with war.

Let them learn to retreat when they encounter the banner of the Alliance of K'ure among the stars."

------

"Death isn't as bad as I thought."

Blackhand followed Black Wolf in another world. He did not follow the "formal process" to enter the kingdom of death, but considering that races like Bwonsamdi had their own "privileges", this was not considered a "smuggling".

The chief looked around curiously. All he saw was a vast expanse of white, a psychic realm with no clear details. He scratched his smooth scalp and asked Lycanthos, who was leading the way:

"So, Wolf God, where will I go?"

"Don't ask me. This is my first time leading a dead soul back to burial, and I'm still getting acquainted with the Grim Reaper's business."

The Black Wolf God whispered:

"But a sin-ridden soul like yours will most likely be sent to the vampire territory of Revendreth, or be directly sent to the Maw by the Arbitrator. After all, you've colluded with the devil.

Although it is not your wish, the world of death has its own rules, rigid and indifferent.

But you are lucky, and I am lucky too, we got a little "privilege" under the rules.

I will send you to a cruel land of war, where the bravest warrior souls from all over the material stars gather. They fight and conquer in that land of war day and night, and the weak are only fit to become nourishment for the strong.

But as long as you are strong and brave enough, you can make a name for yourself in that hell of war."

"It sure sounds like a great place."

Black Hand flexed his fists excitedly, seemingly forgetting the grief and anger he felt when dying. He said:

“What if I conquered that place?”

"You can't do it!"

Lycanthos stopped and waved his claws to push aside the spiritual essence of the interstellar realm, revealing the continent-like floating island of war in front of him. He said:
"You can't do it on your own, but you can try. I will send your people here one after another in the subsequent wars. You failed in Draenor, Blackhand, but you may be able to start a new business here.

This is the eternal home of the war tribe. After you die, you hopeless warmongers deserve to come here and be polished endlessly by the flames of war.

Go ahead.

Go to the 'Welcome Ceremony' in Maldraxxus.

You have to kill a hundred freshly dead alien souls like yourself with your bare hands to be eligible for the rank of private. If you 'die' a second time, you're done."

"Where's Grom?"

Blackhand asked:

"What about Kilrogg? Do their spirits come here?"

"Grom has other duties, and I had not yet gained the power of the Death God when Kilrogg died. You will not see them here."

Black Wolf God said:

"You are the first orc to come here."

"Ha, then of course I will become the Great Chief! Thank you, Wolf God, thank you for sending me to this wonderful place. I will rebuild the tribe here so that Draenor can retain its peace. As for me, I am about to start a new war."

(End of this chapter)