Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 232, Section 55: The Battle of the Three Shadows - The End of the First World War
Stormwind has been saved.

Even though most of the city was set ablaze, even though the commercial district was buried by the ruins of the temple that fell from the sky, even though the city was filled with corpses still moving about aimlessly, the resilient city survived.

As dawn approached, the city's warriors and militia launched a spontaneous counterattack. The royal knights were dispersed and led their warriors, clearing out the tribe's greenskins street by street.

The spellcasters, under the command of the archmages, began to dispel the deathly aura that permeated the city, attempting to make the moving corpses fall back down.

However, the soldiers' approach was more direct.

Some people would set fire to the out-of-control corpses blocking their way when they encountered them with torches. The holy light of the paladins was more effective at purifying these lower-ranking undead. Simply chanting the shimmering of holy light was enough to bring the fragile undead to rest. However, when encountering elite individuals with deep resentment, they could only use "physical exorcism."

Ashes rose from the city and were dispersed into the approaching dawn by the hot winds whipped up by the burning flames.

Lothar drove the Horde vanguard out of the city, and after the warriors from the dock area joined them, the human marshal, disregarding his own exhaustion, led them out of the city in pursuit. He was determined to take advantage of this great victory tonight to reclaim Goldshire and the Crystal Lake area, otherwise Stormwind would have no strategic depth left.

Fortunately, the death of Fenris Wolfskin signaled the collapse of the wolf riders. After the death of the tribal vanguard general appointed by the High Chieftain, no high-ranking overseer could step forward to turn the tide. They could only retreat under the guidance of the wolf pack. The only remaining chieftain, Zul'hild, upon receiving the news, was overjoyed and ordered the vanguard to temporarily abandon the stronghold of Goldshire.

That godforsaken place was built at a crossroads, with flat terrain and no natural defenses. Although Zulushid didn't have the ability to command troops, he at least knew that fighting humans to the death in that place would only be a waste of lives.

This guy was quite righteous; he sent all the dragons of the Dragonmaw Clan, along with the two remaining demon dragons and several death knights under his command, to cover the tribe's retreat.

Because dawn was approaching and the spirits of the ancient warriors were to depart from the mortal realm before sunrise, the humans did not participate in the pursuit. Lothar's troops were exhausted and unable to pursue. Therefore, after a hasty battle in Goldshire, the chaotic night finally came to an end.

The warriors cheered on the recaptured ruins of Goldshire, celebrating their hard-won victory and letting loose their joy.

However, Losa couldn't stay there for long.

He had received news that Grand Duke Bolvar Fordragon was suspected to have been killed in battle, but his body was missing. This reminded him of Gavinrad's fate, so he decided to rush back to Stormwind and discuss the matter with King Llane.

Lothar had a feeling that the death toll and the number of missing persons in tonight's battle of Stormwind definitely didn't add up!

A significant portion of the population was definitely "led" away by that strange white wolf. Whether the kingdom decides to counterattack or defend, these warriors must be brought back immediately, or they will face the predicament of having no soldiers available.

"What? You want me to take your place and command the soldiers at their post?"

In the Goldshire inn, ravaged by the orcs, Lady Daenerys stared wide-eyed at the stern-faced Lothar, and said in a hoarse voice:

"Are you crazy? I don't even have a rank in your Stormwind Kingdom! Your warriors wouldn't recognize my command."

"I'm just leaving you here to stabilize morale. Everyone witnessed your bravery in tonight's battle. Many warriors respectfully call you the 'Valkyrie of Stormwind.' You led them through most of the battle in the commercial district, and you've long been a symbol of courage."

Lothar, leaning on his holy sword, drank some strong liquor to quench his thirst as he explained to Daenerys:
"Major Windsor will be in charge of the specific command. You just need to show up these few days and boost morale. As for your appointment, I can write you a letter of appointment right now. Tell me, madam, what rank do you want?"

"Hey, boring."

Daenerys leaned against the fireplace, casually pulling out an elven fire to light the wood. She took an elegant little flask from her bag, took a sip, tilted her head thoughtfully, and waved her hand, saying:
"Colonel is fine. My achievements are not enough to make me a general. I don't want people to gossip about me, saying that I only got my high position because of my relationship with you."

My rank in the Quel'Thalas Farstrider Legion was also colonel, so that's not unreasonable.

"Alright, Colonel Daenerys, Goldshire is now in your and Major Windsor's hands. A priest from Northshire will likely come to take over around dawn. If the commoners at the monastery need help, you can go there to oversee things."

If the orcs or gnolls attack again, you know how to respond.

Lothar stood up, wiped the blood from his face, and said:
"I need to get back to the city quickly. I don't know if Ryan is safe, but his martial arts skills are no match for mine."

"Don't worry, that alien saint didn't participate in the battle at all, but he used all his almost infinite holy power for rescue and treatment. Didn't you notice that after he returned to the city?"

Those warriors who were cut down were only seriously wounded; the holy light protected them from death.

Daenerys sighed and said:
"That guy is the most powerful paladin I've ever seen. Of course, before he arrived, there was almost no concept of 'paladin' in Azeroth. I should probably suggest that Quel'Thalas send a group of priests to learn from him."

If humans can become paladins, then there's no reason why we elves can't."

"Let's have some pie, let's have some pie."

Lothar, who had picked up his helmet, chuckled upon hearing this. Exhausted from a night of fierce fighting, he made a rare joke:

"You'd better write now and have your priests come tomorrow. I'd love for as many warriors as possible to come to our aid. But you should also warn our elven allies to beware of the demonic plague."

The marshal reminded him:
"That sage said that the spread of the demonic plague throughout the world is now unstoppable."

"Well, be careful on the road."

Daenerys gave a few words of advice and watched Lothar leave, dragging his weary body. Afterwards, Major Windsor brought in several warriors to tidy up the messy inn, as this was now the only place in town that could serve as a temporary command post.

"Get me something to eat, lieutenant."

The newly appointed half-elf colonel waved his hand and said to Major Windsor:

"Check if there's any food left in the kitchen, and prepare some breakfast for the soldiers outside as well."

A few minutes later, Major Windsor came over with a few apples, handed one to the colonel, and sighed, saying:
"Those greens scoured the place thoroughly, and this is all I found. But there's a small dock for merchants near Crystal Lake; I'll take the soldiers there later to see if we can get some food. But, Colonel, what do you think of our Marshal?"

Windsor pulled out a chair and sat by the fireplace, pulling out his pipe as he squinted and said:
"He's not bad, is he?"

"What are you implying, Major?"

Daenerys, who was munching on an apple, glared and snapped:
Is this something you should be concerned about?

"You're destined to be the Empress of the Empire!"

Major Windsor said in a very serious tone:
"Maintaining a good relationship with you is the secret to a successful career in government. This is something General Gavinlad taught me, General Gavinlad."

The major fell silent.

He exhaled a smoke ring and whispered:

"Stormwind has been ravaged; the days ahead are sure to be tough."

"Don't be so pessimistic. You've stopped the greenskins. If the kings of the Northern Frontier don't want to see these savage beasts rampage into their territory, they will definitely try their best to help you."

Daenerys waved her hand, ate most of the apple, tossed the rest into the plate, and, while taking out the elves' magical rations from her pocket and tossing them to her adjutant, said:

"The city may be destroyed, but as long as the people are still here, you will eventually build an even more magnificent city. I believe that Stormwind will become the center of the Eastern Continent! Yes, it will be a city of faith, a city of victory, and a city of courage."

I believe this city will stand forever!

Go ahead and distribute these bland but filling military rations to the soldiers to tide them over. This is magical food; swallowing it will replenish their energy and give them a feeling of fullness. Each person should only eat one piece; eating too much will cause them to burst.
Ok?
How many slices have you eaten?

Major Windsor, who was putting his third elf cookie into his mouth, looked embarrassed. Then his expression changed, and he clutched his stomach and rushed to the toilet outside the hotel.

Well, he won't be able to "stay idle" for at least a few hours.

------

"Berval is dead? You saw it with your own eyes?"

In Stormwind Keep, King Llane, with his sword and shield placed beneath his throne, stared at the ranger general before him.

The latter nodded gravely and placed the orc's head on the king's table. Fenris Wolf's ferocious expression before his death was fully displayed on his face, and his eyes, filled with resentment and helplessness, were enough to terrify any coward.

But the king was filled with only sorrow and anger.

Although Bolvar Fordragon was not a childhood friend of his, the Fordragon family had been loyal followers of the ancestors of Wrynn for generations. Bolvar was the only son of their family in this generation, and his death in Stormwind meant that the ducal family would be extinct tonight.

His kingdom has lost another important figure.

"Let me have some peace and quiet, everyone."

The king could not hide his grief. The tension of the night had left him exhausted, and Ryan spoke haltingly. The ranger general, who had also lost comrades, understood Ryan's feelings and withdrew with her daughter.

Before long, the little prince was brought back by Irelia.

Varian's clothes were tattered and stained with blood. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't think the child was a prince; he looked just like a little monkey who had rolled around in a mud puddle.

His arm was still bandaged; he had been injured while fighting orcs with his older sister, Yrel.

But the prince showed no sign of grievance. On the contrary, he proudly raised his head as if he had received his first medal, and walked into the hall where his father was, wanting to show his father how much he had grown.

Before he could even speak, he saw his father stand up and rush over, anxiously stroking his head to check his injuries, before pulling him into a rare emotional breakdown. "I'm alright, Father."

Varian didn't know why his father had lost his composure like this.

He could even feel King Ryan's tears dripping onto his neck. He patted his father's shoulder and whispered:

“I killed nine greenskins tonight, more than you and Sir Lothar did back then.”

"Yeah, six out of nine were picking off my heads."

Irelia muttered a comment under her breath, causing the little prince to blush slightly. However, Irelia was busy protecting the saint, so she didn't disturb the father and son's reunion. She glanced at the rather touching scene, wagged her tail, and strolled away. Then she heard King Ryan say to his son behind her:
"Do you remember the story I told you? After Stormwind defeated the gnolls, your grandfather got drunk and hugged me and Lothar, crying and saying that sending children onto the city walls was something only a failed king would do."

Sorry, Varian.

I am a failed father and a failed king.

No, you are not.

Varian held his father's hand and said to him earnestly:
"Tonight I became a warrior. I know the battle is difficult, but no matter how hard I try, I can only save one or two people. You always told me that there is a difference between a warrior and a king, but tonight I realized that it is much harder to be a good king than a good warrior."

You led us to victory in this battle!
"The greenskins didn't kill us. I don't think even the other kings of the Northern Frontier could have done better than you."

The comfort from his son made Ryan laugh through his tears. His grief and loss vanished in that moment, replaced by a heart full of solace. He stood up, took his son to the throne, and pointed to the orc head on the table, saying:

"This is the chieftain of the Greenskins! He was killed by Grand Duke Bolvar. Bolvar saved us and this city. Remember this victory and this desperate battle tonight forever. Varian, you must prevent the people from ever falling into such a state again."

"Hmm, this guy is really ugly!"

Varian clenched his fists and glared at Fenris's狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious/hideous) head.

He's not afraid of him!

But neither the king nor the prince noticed that something was "moving" in their shadows. Just as Ryan was about to sit back on the throne, the cold blade hidden within finally shone. Amidst the fluttering of his flowing black hair, Kargath Bladefist burst forth from the shadows, thrusting his ferocious fist blade toward Ryan's back.

With his other hand, he threw a heart-splitting throwing knife, which struck the charging royal guard squarely. Amidst the splatter of blood, the burly guard tumbled to the ground.

But this seemingly sure assassination attempt missed its mark.

The moment Kargath appeared, two figures darted out from the left and right sides of the king.

Pasonia Shaw swung her sword to parry Kargath's fist blade that was slicing through the king's armor, while Garona launched herself up and kicked Llane in the waist, sending the exhausted king and the little prince flying.

Ryan reacted quickly as well.

The instant he flew away, he pulled Varian into his arms, using himself as a shield to protect his son.

After landing, the two rolled to their feet and saw three master assassins fighting fiercely in the shadows. To assassinate the king, they couldn't go alone. So, at the same time as Kargath's attack, the brutal assassins of the Shattered Hand Clan sprang out from all over Stormwind Keep and fought against the exhausted guards who had been fighting all night.

Kargath's only target was Ryan, but his constant sprints were repeatedly thwarted by two formidable opponents.

Pasonia is alright.

The human assassin was within Kargath's capabilities, but Garona was in great danger. This orc was far from reaching her full potential, yet the two Kingslayer daggers in her hands forced Kargath to take her seriously.

Once you get infected with this stuff, there's basically no antidote in Azeroth.

To make matters worse, Garona was trained in the Shattered Hand Clan's arena. She was very familiar with the Shattered Hand assassins' fighting style and could always predict Kargath's movements in advance. She also constantly bombarded Kargath with trash talk to disrupt his thinking.

"You coward! You only dared to show yourself after the Holy Light of Saint Diakum faded! There was nowhere for you to hide under that light. You call yourself the number one assassin of Draenor! I think you'd be more like the number one coward."

Kargath remained unmoved.

His gaze was fixed on Ryan, and when he saw the sword-and-shield king protecting his son as they retreated into another room, Chieftain Shatterhand realized this was his last chance.

A quick glance at the battlefield was enough to determine the plan.

The next moment, he stopped dodging Pasonia's swords and turned to attack fiercely, forcing Garona back with a brutal devastating strike. Then, he used Slaughter Feast to escape into the shadows, using several guards within his attack range as a springboard. After killing four enemies, he finally jumped into King Ryan's shadow.

The fist blade swung down towards the king, and amidst Varian's exclamation, the loyal Passonia leaped forward using Shadowstep to meet it head-on.

Blood splattered.

Pasonia's left fist, which she had clenched to block the king, was severed at the wrist and flew away. But her Strike Blade, like the deadly bite of a venomous snake, cleaved into Kargath's arm. With a final burst of strength, she forcefully severed the blade-fist along with the orc's massive wrist.

This deadly tactic of trading injury for injury shocked Varian, prompting him to instinctively push his father out to try and save him.

However, the next second, he saw Kargath looking at him.

As if feeling no pain, the orc swiftly retreated and threw a jade-green crystal-like throwing knife, which whistled towards Varian's eyes but ultimately landed on his "assassination target."

Ryan tackled his child, the price being a flying knife that struck him squarely in the back.

Everything was going according to Kargath's plan.

He couldn't complete the assassination in a short time amidst the frenzied battle between the two master assassins, but he could make Ryan willingly take the blow!

Amid Garona's furious screams, Kargath glanced back at her with a cold smile, then made a Clan Shattered Hand gesture with his remaining hand, meaning "newbie, learn something."

Although such a small dagger could not possibly pierce through armor and penetrate the heart, the shape of the throwing knife clearly indicated that it was poisoned.

It's a pity. He actually had many good opportunities to assassinate Llane or Lothar tonight, but it was all because of that damned Holy Light that kept shining on the city. Diakum shared his light with every warrior in the city, leaving assassins like Kargath with nowhere to hide.

The moment he disappeared into the shadows, Kargath quickly covered the severed part of his arm with his clothes.

The pain was intense, like needles stimulating his nerves.

But it was precisely this pain that made Kargath Bladefist feel the vibrant life within him, just as he had used the same method to sever his wrists in the Highmaul arena to break free from his shackles.

Ryan might survive.

After all, that guy was a paladin; the Holy Light wouldn't let him die so easily.

However, in this defeat of the tribe, this was all that was left for him to do. Rather than a strategic assassination, it was more like a venting of anger after the defeat. There are limits to what an assassin can do. What cannot be obtained on the battlefield is also difficult to obtain with an assassin's blade.

In any case, the War Horde's battle in Stormwind is over, and it's time for me to head to the so-called most terrifying arena in Azeroth, Blackrock Mountain, to see the gladiators of this world.

Well, hopefully they can be more capable and rediscover the "passion" they had back then.

"Do not touch! The poison has seeped into the bones."

The royal guards rushed forward to save the king, but were stopped by a refined, scholarly voice.

Everyone turned around and saw a beautiful and mysterious owl flapping its wings and flying into the hall from the garden, transforming into an elf archdruid holding a wooden staff.

The latter quickly stepped forward, knelt before the king to examine his injuries, and then invoked the power of nature to remove the poison from the king.

After a moment, the Archdruid shook her head solemnly and said to the person looking at her:

"It is not a poison of this world, nor can it be cured by any medicine; it comes from nightmares, born of resentment and hatred; the way to save one's life is to seek it in jade."

"what did she say?"

The pale-faced royal intelligence officer turned to look at Garona, who shook her head in bewilderment and said:
"It sounds like a riddle. Damn it! What time is it? Stop with the riddles, please, pointy ears, speak properly!"

"Don't make things difficult for Master Elereser Lefraar. The followers of the Ancestor God all speak like this; it's their tradition."

A dark-haired elf who had flown in with the Archdruid explained somewhat awkwardly:
"What the master means is that the deadly poison in your king's body comes from a variant of the Emerald Legion's Green Dragon Toxin. This poison is related to dream power and cannot be cured by detoxification techniques. Now we must ask the Emerald Dragons for help."

And you'd better hurry!

She glanced at the unconscious king and whispered:

"His physical body is protected by holy light, so the problem isn't too serious. The main issue is that his mind is trapped in a nightmare. If he's separated from his body for too long, even if he wakes up, he'll be crippled. You may not have heard of them, but those dangerous creatures in nightmares are quite ferocious."

(End of this chapter)