Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 231, Section 54. Alonsus Faol: How should I allocate skill points for a Battle Priest? I need an answer urgently!

"Your dragon is dead! You will die too!"

On the vast lawn of the garden district, Bolvar Fordragon fought fiercely, constantly forcing Fenris Wolf to retreat. He wielded his vengeful holy light, causing the gleaming blades on his greatsword to repel the surrounding wolves.

The Grand Duke roared with fighting spirit:

"Is all you can do, you cripple!"

"Where does a defeated opponent get such arrogance?"

Fenris disdained to argue.

He merged with his legendary dire wolf, just like in the battle of Azura form, absorbing Bolvar's power to strengthen himself through constant battles.

But he had to admit that the human Grand Duke's desperate assassination attempt during the crisis was indeed brilliant.

This ruthless decapitation strike completely deprived him of command over the orc warriors besieging the dock area, and the loss of his temporary command post dealt a devastating blow to morale on the battlefield.

Human warriors at the city's front have begun their return to reinforce, along with those outrageous ancient warriors.

This treacherous encirclement is beginning to tighten just as King Llane launches a fierce counterattack. If nothing unexpected happens, the Horde's siege of Stormwind has essentially failed.

it's a pity.
The War Tribe is just a hair's breadth away from victory.

Even though the annoying "troublemaker" Diakum wasn't out in the open this time, Fenris Wolf's hunter instincts told him that the dangerous, muscular man of Holy Light was definitely in the city right now.

Compared to his rampage in Draenor, the big guy seemed to have suddenly regained a dangerous wisdom, choosing a more covert but dangerous way to stop those he disliked from achieving victory in Azeroth.

Ah, is this guy the nemesis of the War Tribe?
Fenris pondered this in his mind.

Bolvar was dangerous, but not dangerous enough to warrant a legendary chieftain fighting to the death.

As the vanguard commander appointed by Warchief Orgrim Doomhammer, it was his duty to conquer Stormwind Kingdom. Although he had to retreat now, Fenris's strategic objectives had been largely achieved. Failing to take Stormwind City was an undeniable failure, but once the Blacktooth Grinding Clan landed in Westfall, the entire Stormwind Kingdom would fall into his hands!

Let humanity preserve this ravaged city.

With the entire kingdom's grain-producing lands and various resources at his disposal, as long as Orgrim completes trade with the Dark Iron dwarves and equips the Horde with sufficiently sophisticated weaponry, Fenris is fully confident that he can launch another devastating attack on Stormwind after a brief period of regrouping.

Although he said that the beasts that had fallen into the trap had to fight to the death, Fenris actually did not intend to die there.

He's waiting!

The ghostly wolf pack under the Black Wolf God's command can cross the shadows and take him and his overseers away, and those wolves have already set off; humans cannot hold him back!

"puff"

Just as Fenris was dodging attacks and trying to buy time, a deadly arrow flew from above. Fenris ducked to avoid it, but the arrow whistled and pierced the neck of the wolf beneath him.

A single assassination arrow was not enough to kill the legendary dire wolf, but it alerted Fenris to the danger.

Someone saw through his biggest weakness!

"Ha, a cripple using a wolf's four paws as his legs? That's quite an idea."

Having already climbed to a high place, General Lilesa kicked away the sword saint's corpse at her feet. With a bloody mark near her ear, she drew her Sasdora Warbow, and the gathered wind arrows swirled around, foreshadowing that the next strike would surely split mountains and shatter rocks.

Not only did Fenris feel a chill run down his spine, but the wolf beneath him, who was of one mind with him, also sensed the danger.

With a howl, it threw Fenris away, only to be pelted by a hail of arrows and tumble to its feet before struggling to rise again to endure the onslaught of the royal knights around it.

But Chief Thor is in a much worse situation.

His Achilles tendons had been severed by the old hunter Leoroxus in Draenor, and even with the blessing of the wolf god, such an injury was difficult to heal perfectly. His legs could hardly support the strength of a legendary figure, and as he staggered to his feet, he was slashed by Bolvar Fordragon's sword as he pounced on him.

The Marauder's twin blades roared, activating Fenris's Bloodrage and causing him to clash with the Grand Duke.

Low wolf howls echoed in the distance, and a pack of ghost wolves emerged from the shadows and pounced, driving back the Storm Knights. The wounded overseers and captains rushed forward, grabbed the demon wolves, and then, through the shadows, carried them away.

This scene made Grand Duke Bolvar narrow his eyes; he knew what the cunning orc chieftain was planning.

"Mages! Stop the greenskins from escaping!"

The Grand Duke roared:

"Smash this place with your meteorites! I'd rather destroy the mage quarters than let this bastard live!"

"General, should we..."

Archmage Aethas the Sunreaver and the few elven archmages beside him hesitated, but Lireza was decisive. She swung her halberd, slaying the approaching shadow werewolves and the dangerous fireblade swordsman, and waved her hand, giving the order:
"Execute orders! Kill as many of these green-skinned commanders as possible! Leaving them alive is a menace."

Soon, meteorites began to whistle down from the sky, crashing down on the green-skinned wolves that were being sheltered by the wolf pack.

The fire archmage Aethas Sunreaver personally unleashed a firestorm, almost completely igniting the battlefield below to drive away the approaching ghost wolves, but also trapping the royal knights.

"This way! Throw a meteorite this way! Quick!"

The Grand Duke was still roaring.

He saw several ghostly giant wolves charging towards Fenris Wolfline, braving General Lireza's sniper arrows. Once they joined together, the Greenskin Chieftain would be able to escape.

Bolvar charged forward with incredible ferocity, knocking the sword from Fenris's hand with his greatsword, but his own arm was pierced by another blade.

As the greatsword landed, the human Grand Duke leaped over and tackled Fenris to the ground. The two leaders rolled and fought in the fire, while a meteorite crashed down on them, striking the tower above them.

With a crashing sound, the upper half of the Blue Hermit Tower collapsed, and the falling debris completely blocked the ghost wolves' path.

Bolvar Fordragon coughed as he rose from beneath the boulder, his body gleaming with the light of Divine Shield. He bent down to pick up the Raider's Blade that Fenris had dropped, and swayed as he approached the Wolf Clan chieftain who was pinned down by the boulder.

Their eyes were locked on each other at that moment.

Fenris Wolf's eyes were filled with resentment, but he knew that his conquest was about to end here, and the most ferocious demon wolf of Frostfire Ridge would perish tonight.

The Grand Duke gripped his sword and plunged it downwards into Fenris's heart.

He stared intently at the green-skinned man, his eyes filled with the helplessness and despair he felt on the night Azura's Tower fell. Most of the warriors who fought alongside him that day had died on the battlefield, and only he, Major Martin, and a few others had survived.

Bolvar was of noble birth. Although brave, he had little experience on the battlefield. The crushing defeat that night almost broke him, which led him to choose the oath of revenge in the embrace of the Holy Light.

"Now, between the two of us, who looks more like the cripple?"

He responded with the words Fenris had used to mock him that night, while the wolf grinned with a blood-spurting smile.

The Grand Duke lowered his head, and as he pierced Fenris's heart, the other sword he was tightly gripping also pierced through his armor.

The holy shield forged by holy light cannot be used twice in a short period of time, and perhaps this place will also become the Grand Duke's final destination.

"Even a beast caught in a trap will take its hunter with it, even in death! Bolvar, good hunter, let's go together."

"puff"

With a final swing of his sword, Bolvar severed the bloodied head of the Wolf King.

As he landed, dizzy and breathing heavily, Bolvar Fordragon saw a giant white wolf emerge gracefully from the shadows of the mage tower. It walked to his side and lowered its head to lick its fingers.

Perhaps it's just a hallucination.

Before he completely succumbed to a near-death coma, Bolvar thought to himself, "I have already embraced the Holy Light, so how could I possibly see this alien god?"
------

"Ah, my heart aches so much!"

Beneath the Echoing Mountains, adjacent to Stormwind City, in the Northshire Abbey, the sacred site of the Stormwind Kingdom, the archmage Zul'hild, who was directing the orcs and gnolls in a frenzied attack on the city walls, clutched his heart and cried out in pain.

"I feel Lethorn is dead! My dragon companion is dead! Waaah... Good riddance! That arrogant fool can no longer control me, hahaha."

The first half was a painful wail, but the second half turned into a hoarse, maniacal laugh, making the great sorcerer look like a complete mad dog.

As he straightened up, the magic scythe in his hand was imbued with fel energy, allowing Zul'hild to unleash a ferocious circle of fel scythes that cut down several human warriors who tried to ambush him.

Their bodies lay on the ground, but their souls had already been taken by the sorcerer.

"Ah, I will resurrect my beloved Lethorn into a powerful bone dragon! Yes, although stealing its bones is a big problem, I will definitely be able to do it."

Zulushid let out a sinister laugh as he fed the Soul Stone to the greedy scythe in his hand.

With a satisfied hiss, the latter granted him another Warlock buff. With a wave of his hand, an instant-cast mass liquid hellfire slammed into the walls of Northshire Abbey. The heavy blow instantly collapsed a section of the wall, burying the humans and orcs fighting on it.

This ruthless guy doesn't care about his own people at all when he attacks.

He led a group of warlocks as wicked as himself, and under the cover of a two-headed wyvern and the last two remaining demonic dragons, he climbed the city wall. Looking at the holy site of faith built in the valley surrounded on three sides, Zul'hild snorted disdainfully. He raised his finger, which had grown fel scales, and the summoned terrifying hellfire moved into the valley.

What a load of rubbish about a sacred religious site!
Humanity's level of Holy Light is only so-so; it's impossible for them to produce a Holy Light Walker as terrifying as Diakum.

Although most of the orcs had been mobilized by Fenris Wolf to attack Stormwind, his own elite troops could still help him take over this valley.

A dark thought was swirling in Zulushid's mind.

He hoped that Fenris the Wolfs would encounter some "accident" during the attack on Stormwind, so that no one would compete with him for control of the Horde army that was mainly attacking the Kingdom of Stormwind. Previously, during large-scale attacks, Fenris had to be in command, and Zul'hild knew his own limitations; he couldn't command such a massive war. But now that humanity was reduced to only one city and one valley, once the Blacktooth Grinding Clan landed in the Western Fertile Lands, he could seize control of the entire Kingdom of Stormwind.

Ha, although orcs don't care about granting land and establishing territories, what's wrong with me, as the noble chieftain of Dragonmaw, ruling a kingdom?
Isn't that what we should do?
When that time comes, even Orgrim Doomhammer will no longer be able to raise his voice at me! I will become the most powerful leader in the War Horde.

That bright future seemed so close, making Zulushid extremely proud.

Then he saw a group of giant, holy-light-wielding men, shouting incoherent slogans, charging out of Northshire Abbey with a large number of militia.

The giant at the head wielded two Ashbringer-style greatswords. He roared and unleashed a whirlwind slash, the resulting holy storm instantly engulfing a circle of gnolls. The other burly men were not to be outdone. Led by Grand Duke Mograine, these Ash Knights from the distant north caused chaos and defeat wherever they went.

"There are more experts! When did they arrive?"

Zulushid's eyes widened.

This is wrong!

Didn't they say that humanity had recalled all its elite forces to Stormwind for defense? How come there's still such a powerful paladin force here?

Blanch!
Could this be a trap designed to kill me?

No!

How could someone of my high status risk his life?
Let the mindless demon-blooded orcs charge in my place.

Zul'jid then swung his magic scythe, showering the Ash Knights with a rain of sulfurous fire, while he himself stood in front of the warlocks as a protector.

But soon, another light cavalry force approached the city wall from the flank. When the enemy climbed the wall, Zulushid keenly noticed that the one leading them was a middle-aged human. He was holding a holy staff and should be a priest, but the longsword he was wearing at his waist looked rather incongruous.

"Chief, that's Alonsus Fao!"

A dragonmaw warlock excitedly said to his leader:
"The Archbishop of Holy Light of humanity is a leader of the faith! The prisoners we captured before were all shouting and praying for his rescue. That guy is a priest! He has never been on the battlefield."

This is a good opportunity!

If we can take down Alonsus Fao here, we'll have won big!

"Hmph, how dare a priest with no combat experience be so arrogant in front of us warlocks? My children, come with me, let's cut off Faol's dog head and make it into a magic weapon to deter the human resistance."

The great sorcerer shouted and led his henchmen forward to meet the enemy.

He definitely wouldn't go to deal with the Ash Knight; it's too dangerous. But he's just a priest, a class known for only using healing spells. He really doesn't know the meaning of "death" to dare to go up the city wall.

"Fao! Come, face me!"

Zul'jid swaggered forward, summoning demons that charged towards the opposite side. Turalyon, clad in armor, drew his longsword and heavy shield and rushed to protect the archbishop.

The ascetics of the Church of Holy Light also called upon the Holy Light to attack forward, engaging the warlocks in battle. However, Zul'hild, wielding a ferocious demonic scythe, cut down several warriors along the way and charged towards Faol, who was maintaining the Circle of Healing.

Although Chieftain Dragonmaw was a warlock, he had a tough first half of his life, leading his people to guard Gorgrond and surviving in the cracks between the major clans. Those terrible times made his body as robust as a warrior's.

He simply couldn’t believe that the pampered archbishop Fao could evade his scythe in close combat.

Although he carried a sword, it was merely an ornament.

"Evil one! The Holy Light will punish you!"

Archbishop Alonsus Faol, seeing the corpses strewn across the city walls, was filled with rage. When the warlock challenged him to battle, he stepped forward without fear, parrying the scythe that was about to fall with his holy staff. Under Zul'hild's wide-eyed gaze, the old Faol before him seemed to have practiced this countless times.

With his other hand gripping the hilt, he drew the clearly enchanted one-handed sword with a whoosh and unleashed a smooth Ash Judgment.

"Bang" sound.

Zulushid blocked the sword with his magic scythe as he retreated.

The force from the sword startled him.

not good!

How come this old pastor is so strong?
And how come his sword-wielding posture is so standard?

This pastor has stopped chanting sutras and started practicing swordsmanship?
Blasphemy!
"Holy Light! This evil deserves to be fought!"

Old Fao roared and swung his longsword forward repeatedly, his fierce attacks forcing Zul'hild to retreat.

The warlock couldn't take it anymore. With a roar, he unleashed Dark Fury, forcing Faol back. He raised his magic scythe to behead this unorthodox archbishop, but then old Faol raised his holy staff, unleashing a burst of holy fire that shone brightly. The gathered light surged outwards, spreading like the arrival of light.

The archsor's eyes were almost blinded by the "Light Spell," causing his execution strike to miss. Then he saw the flickering ashen runes shimmering on old Faol's blade.

not good!

Zul'hild was startled and was about to retreat, but the next second, amidst the roar of Old Fao, who held a staff in one hand and a sword in the other, a standard holy storm swept towards him. The sharp and scorching holy light storm made Zul'hild howl in pain.

He had realized that the legendary priest Fao was more troublesome than he had imagined.

This guy somehow learned the Guardian's swordsmanship from the Vigilant, and he himself is a high-ranking priest who has cultivated for many years. His holy power is definitely sufficient, and his level of danger has exceeded that of those Ash Knights. But if it comes down to fighting, Zul'hild, who possesses two artifacts, can definitely defeat him, but he will definitely get injured.

It’s not worth it. It’s really not worth it.

The archwarder sacrificed the demon to shield himself and escape the Holy Light storm, then led his warlocks away, leaving only a group of bloodthirsty orc infantrymen still fighting against the Ash Knights.

But without their commander, they posed no further threat, and the crisis at Northshire Abbey had passed its most difficult moment. However, as old Faol led the paladins to retake the walls, he received the worst possible news.

"It's terrible, Archbishop! The royal tomb in the monastery has been looted!"

A pastor's apprentice, looking disheveled, ran over to report:

"The Greenskins hired local kobolds and sent kobolds and gnolls to dig through the monastery's tomb while we were fighting them! The remains of King Baratheon and more than a dozen warriors from past kingdoms were stolen by the Greenskins!"
The sacred artifacts enshrined in the monastery, the holy book bestowed upon us by the Holy Light, were also stolen.

"what?"

This news left Fao feeling utterly devastated.

But the archbishop knew what was important and what was urgent, and he pressed further:

"How is Medivh's tomb? If they had stolen the astrolabe of the astral mage, I can't even imagine what a terrifying lich they would have created."

"Oh, it's great there. There's a seraphim guarding the remains of the astral mage. Any greenskins and gnolls that dared to approach were burned to ashes."

"what?"

------

Zul'hild, who had withdrawn from the valley, soon saw the warlocks and gnolls he had sent out to dig up graves return laden with their spoils; the powerful remains brought a smile to the warlock's face.

With these materials, he could quickly assemble a valiant Death Knight chapter. Most importantly, King Baratheon was a renowned warrior in his youth, and he was perfectly capable of wielding the "Apocalypse Sword".

The gnolls also had an unexpected gain: the captured "Holy Book" greatly pleased Zul'hild. Once such a sacred object was desecrated, the dark power it generated would be enough to enhance the Death Knights and grant them even greater power.

But after inspecting the harvest, Zulushid said with great dissatisfaction:
"What about Medivh's ashes? That's of utmost importance! I risked my life to get this opportunity for you, and you didn't even get it?"

"Hehe, sir, can you guess why we're in such a sorry state? Why did more than 30 of us go, but less than 12 came back?"

"That damned urn!"

An orc warlock, half his face charred, cursed:

"Our brothers had just lifted the lid of Medivh's coffin when, guess what? Diakum's Seraphim leaped out! All the brothers who remained inside were burned to ashes!"

Damn!

This is definitely a trap.

"Holy crap! How could Diakum be so wicked? He's been digging traps for us everywhere, trying to bury us alive. What grudge do we hold against him?!"

Zulushid was also startled.

The further he went in the darkness, the more he feared the radiant watcher.

Hearing that Diakum had sent his own seraphim to guard Medivh's tomb, the archsorcerer, who had done so many bad things that everything seemed like "a treacherous subject trying to harm me," became suspicious and thought it must be a trap specifically set for him.

Fortunately, he has always valued his life.

"Never mind, if we didn't get it, we didn't get it."

Zulu-Hid quickly convinced himself, and with a wave of his hand, he said:
"Let's go back to Azura's Tower—bah! Back to our 'Shadow Tower,' where we'll complete the forging of the Death Knight Chapter. Our lich companion should be awakening soon. Heh, Baratheon personally leading the Death Knights to attack his own good son's kingdom."

Tsk, King Ryan is in for a treat.

Of course, that's assuming he can evade Kargath Shatterhand's assassination attempt.

I don't think he was that lucky, what do you guys think?

(End of this chapter)