Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 233, Section 56. Gilneas: Don't come any closer!!!
"The Nightmare Dragon's venom is not as simple as green dragon venom; it is also contaminated with fel energy. However, there is no need to worry about this part; the Holy Light will protect King Llane from being too deeply poisoned by fel energy."

The real problem, as the high druid had said, is finding a way to bring King Llane's spirit back from the nightmare.

Diakum, who arrived at the fortress upon receiving the news, made the diagnosis.

His situation wasn't good either, because he had single-handedly released holy light to save the dying in the city, essentially turning himself into a node to give the warriors a "lock-in" effect, causing Diakum to fall into the predicament of his holy power pool drying up for the second time in a short period of time.

The Hand of Fate has a duration.

After the enhanced state of infinite holy power ended, he managed to hold on for nearly thirty minutes until the large-scale battle in the city was completely over.

But this is not a bad thing.

Diakum could clearly feel his weakness recovering. Calculating the time, more than twenty days had passed since he repelled the human form of the Dark Titan, and his strength should be slowly recovering.

He was relieved that not only had Stormwind been saved during the First War, but King Llane had also survived without having his heart ripped out. Although the king's condition was not good at the moment, being on the verge of death was much better than actually dying.

As long as people are alive, there is always hope.

He examined the emerald green dagger that Garona had handed him, and after identifying it, the Watcher frowned and said:
"This toxin doesn't seem to be a substance refined from ordinary Nightmare Dragon venom. The nightmare power it contains is a bit excessive."

"Hehe, this is clearly an 'invitation'."

The Shadow Whisper whispered in his ear:
"It seems that Kargath Bladefist's assassination was also part of the plan of some 'big shots.' You already know that ordinary green dragons can't cure Lionel at all, and you have enough wisdom to predict what will happen next."

This unique Nightmare Poison will eventually attract the attention of the Green Dragonflight leaders, and things will take a rather 'exciting' turn once Ysera the Sleeper herself comes to the Eastern Continent.

But we don’t care about the fate of the green dragons, nor do we care about the future of the human kingdoms. What we are really curious about is, Diakum, the esteemed Vigilant, will you allow this conspiracy to continue to fester?
A terrible thing is happening right before your eyes, and if you choose to let it go, the kindest dragon queen in the world will suffer as a result.

Is this how your Holy Light taught you?

"We've only just begun!"

Diakum looked at the poison-coated dagger before him and said:

"Ysera is destined for a difficult life. The terrible things she would suffer in 'normal' history are beyond your imagination. I don't think that letting the Nightmare Tyrant run rampant will make her future any worse, and you can't morally blackmail me for that."

Moreover, my intervention was ineffective.

Even without Ryan's poisoning, the Nightmare Tyrant would have found other ways to lure the green dragons here. Having been their leader, it knew the Emerald Legion's modus operandi well.

"Hmph, you may convince yourself that way, but in our eyes, this is evil, and your pure and innocent self will be tainted by it."

Shadow Words mocked:
When light is mixed with a wisp of shadow, can it still be called light? Or have you stepped into a quagmire and kept sinking deeper, yet you are still numbing yourself that you haven't fallen?

Dick waved his hand, as if scattering the shadows surrounding him, and summoned holy flames to incinerate and purify the emerald dagger before handing it to Ms. Passonia, who had just stopped bleeding, beside him.

他 说:

"You might want to keep it."

Yes, I will keep it.

Pasonia said in a hoarse voice:
"One day, I will personally shove it into that green-skinned bastard's eye!"

"But before that, you have the chance to equip this powerful fist blade and kill the chieftain of the Shattered Hands with the weapon of the Shattered Hands. That's what revenge is all about!"

Irelia looked at the gruesome battle scars in the hall, then glanced at Lady Passonia's severed hand, and finally examined the black fist blade lying to the side.

This thing is Kargath Shatterhand's "signature weapon." Although it may not be recorded in the "Draenor Weapon Compendium," there is no doubt that it is no ordinary item, having accompanied Kargath in his many years of war in Draenor and established a great reputation.

However, the fist blades used by the orcs were rather large and grotesque for Pasonia's size.

“Dick, those elves are leaving.”

Nelly entered the room and whispered to Diakum:
"Ms. Deyana has something to say to you, perhaps as a farewell or a warning. Master Arantien has also gone there."

"Ah."

The Watcher nodded, and he rose weakly, supported by Nellie. He glanced again at Varian Wrynn, who was weeping by his father's bedside, and his haggard mother.

He didn't go forward to comfort her; he calmly turned and left the room.

For someone like Varian, his life is destined to be filled with many hardships, and what he is seeing now may just be the beginning. It is like a piece of Titan iron being put into a furnace to be forged. If it can withstand the pressure, it will naturally become a peerless weapon; if it cannot, it will only become slag.

He had great confidence in the child.

As they were leaving Stormwind Keep, they encountered Lothar, who was rushing back. Lothar had heard about Llane's assassination and was now filled with anxiety. After Diakum gave a brief account, Lothar asked:

"Where in the Eastern Continent can I find a green dragon? I'll set off immediately to seek medicine for Ryan."

"We don't need you. The druids have already sent out the message. They are in very close contact with the green dragons. In addition, with the greenskin invasion and the appearance of the Ancient Anti-Magic Alliance in Stormwind, the Kaldorei Moon Goddess Kingdom may send people over soon."

Dick patted Lothar on the shoulder, concentrating a point of holy light to heal his wounds, and said:
"Your diplomatic responsibilities are heavy, Lothar. I may also have to leave Stormwind Kingdom for the time being. The current of fate here has passed its most turbulent turn, and you can bear the gentler winds that follow on your own."

We Draenei have our own plans in this world, and it's time for me to return to the interests of my people.

"Well, I should have said more, but for now I can only wish you a safe journey."

Losa bowed, and Dick chuckled and said:

"It won't be that quick. We need to get Varian, the Stormwind Kingdom's envoy, back to Draenor first, so if you're planning to prepare a beautiful farewell blessing, you still have time."

Don't worry, Losa.

"His Majesty Ryan is in dire straits, but believe me, the King's fate has passed its most dangerous turning point, and what he sees from now on will be nothing but miracles."

The Watcher waved goodbye, summoned Sunwing, and before taking off with Nellie, headed towards the Stormwind city gates. Once high in the sky, Dick asked in a low voice:

"Has that 'thing' been delivered?"

"Ok!"

Nelly nodded seriously.

She didn't participate in the Battle of Stormwind; instead, she stayed at the Tomb of Sargeras. Aegwynn had just made a brief trip to Draenor as a "deliveryman," and in fact, she had only returned here twenty minutes earlier.

She whispered to Diakum:
“We handed ‘He’ over to Velen and Hatton themselves. The Great Prophet was going to disguise Him with the shell of the Eternal Immortal. Because the stay was short, I didn’t have time to say much. I just told them to move ‘He’ to the roots of the World Tree Tayara as you instructed.”

Using the life force of the World Tree to suppress the dark power within, His Majesty Khala and Elder Velen will join forces to refine 'He' with holy light, while our engineers will attempt to transform it into a form more suitable for Lord Argus.

"Okay, then you'll be the liaison officer for this."

Dick said to Nelly:

"I'm going to focus on something else now."

"Okay, but I'll stay with you to prevent you from causing any more danger."

At the watcher's old darling's request, the two landed outside the collapsed city gate, right beside the Mirror Lake that reflected the silver moonlight, where ancient warriors were making their final prayers in the mortal world.

To Diakum's surprise, some high elf mages also joined them.

“A small number of elves in Quel'Thalas still maintain the faith of Elune. It’s really only a small number, and they’re already considered to be mostly believers, since the mainstream magic there is arcane.”

General Lireza noticed the saint's confusion and explained in a low voice:

"However, after tonight's epic battle, I estimate that Elune's faith may experience a small resurgence in Quel'Thalas. After all, few of the high elves today experienced the War of the Ancients, let alone fought against the demons alongside the warriors of that time."

What's that bird on your shoulder?

Nelly and General Lireza maintained a peculiar relationship of "cooperation and competition," perhaps because they were both military commanders with hunting backgrounds, and both "older women." She stared at the moon owl perched on General Lireza's shoulder and said with a puzzled expression:
"Isn't this Commander Casparian's reconnaissance pet?"

“Yes, that commander was my grandfather’s colleague and fought alongside him. She was my senior. After learning that I was the current head of the Windrunner family, Lady Kasparen left the ‘Moonclaw’ to me.”

The Ranger General glanced at the Sunhawk "Holy Sun" on Nellie's shoulder, then reached out and teased the spirit owl sentinel on her shoulder, saying:
"Moonclaw is a brave raptor lord. It does not intend to join the world of death now. It is more eager to make up for the battles it missed during its ten thousand years of slumber."

"Hmph, then keep it away from my Holy Sun."

Nari complained:
"The spirit owl will be melted by the sunlight of the Sunhawk."

"Moonclaw is a bird of prey blessed by the moon goddess. Its cold moonlight will teach your damned fire raven what fear is! I ask you, has the silver moon emblem on the hilt of my battle sword been melted by your bird?"
Did it do it itself, or did you instigate it?

"Haha, what do you think?"

Dick sighed at the argument between the two old hunters. Not wanting to get involved in the dispute between the hunting masters, he leaned on his cane and went to find High Priestess Deyana, who was leading the ancient warriors in prayer to Elune by the lake.

The latter's spirit was already very faint, which meant she would soon be heading to Azure Fairyland. Dawn was approaching, and her millennia-old spirit would finally be free.

“I know this is presumptuous, but Saint Diakum, I have an important matter I hope you can help me with.”

The High Priestess of the Moon stood up and said to Dick:

"I learned about the current state of the Kaldorei Kingdom from Little Na'sa. Although the departure of the High Elves is regrettable, I am comforted that Lord Kortalos and Archdruid Malfurion are still maintaining a precious unity among the people, but there are indeed hidden dangers."

The 'Nightsworn' Tyrande sisters, whom we created with our own hands, have become a destabilizing factor.

“I am willing to aid nobles like you, Lady Deyana, but when it comes to a War Goddess of the Moon, aren’t you giving me a bit too much credit?”

The vigilant sighed and said:

"Even if I were to attack in my strongest form, your Nightsworn would probably kill me in less than half a minute. You and the others created the Moonlit War God with your own hands, so you should know that it is an unstable 'lesser god,' a direct extension of Lady White's dark wrath, and the true 'Hand of Elune.'"

For ordinary people like you and me, this is truly a terrifying concept.

"Yes, I know it's hard to find an individual in the material world who can suppress her, but Elune also gave our Maiev sisters an oracle."

Deyana said seriously:
"Since Illidan the Starhunter has been wandering among the stars for ten thousand years, it proves that the guidance of the Moon Goddess is not without purpose. I have met Illidan and I know his character. If he is sure that he cannot find anything of value, he will not waste so much time in the vast universe."

He must have already discovered something.

You are the mortal I have ever seen or heard of who is most closely connected with the Holy Light. If there ever comes a day when my people are required to seal the Nightsworn again, I hope you can lend us a hand.

Although I possess nothing of value, I believe that His Majesty Kutalos and the Brothers Stormrage will offer everything they can to repay your assistance.

Diakum fell silent.

It wasn't that he was unwilling to help, but Deyana's words suddenly gave him an "inspiration".

After a moment's hesitation, Dick looked around, then connected mentally with Ms. Deyana's spirit and said:
"To be honest, during my twenty thousand years of slumber, the Holy Light revealed to me some truths about the God of War of the Moonlit Night."
Nightsworn is not the first Night God of War in the physical universe, but she is indeed the first Night God of War to survive Elune's dark wrath. The remaining Night Gods of War go to the Shadowlands to continue their fate when they die.

You too are going to the world of the dead, so if you really want to help poor Tyrande, perhaps you can try in another way.

We have a 'sinner' currently in the territory of Maldraxxus, the land of the dead.

If you've made up your mind, try to contact him!

But remember, becoming the God of War in the Moonlight is not a pleasant memory, and the departed Lords of the Black Moon are unlikely to help so easily; they may not even continue to believe in Elune.

"This"

Deyana was startled, but then she realized that this was indeed another way to help Tyrande.

The young Tyrande Windwhisper was willing to sacrifice herself for the survival of the world. The girl knew what becoming a Nightsworn meant, but she still resolutely completed the ritual.

Azeroth owes her so much. If she can really help, High Priestess Deyana, who personally presided over the Black Moon Ceremony, will do everything in her power.

Soon, dawn arrived.

As the first rays of dawn tore through the thick veil of night and illuminated the woodlands of Stormwind, the ancient spirits vanished one by one in the sunlight, chanting the name of Elune as they ended their final battle.

But the ancient battle flag was preserved, seemingly left by the ancient warriors for the warriors of Stormwind.

Moreover, it wasn't just the battle flag that was preserved.

Diakum stared in astonishment at the ghostly Frostblade Tiger left behind by High Priestess Deyana. He stepped forward and touched it; the moment his fingertips touched it, the loyal spirit tiger transformed into a wisp of light and merged into his hand. A notification then popped up:
"【Hidden Legendary Appearance of Sacred Steed/Spirit Steed: Swift Ghost Tiger (Spirit Frostblade Tiger)】 has been obtained!"

hint!

The legendary vehicle can only travel on the ground, and its ground speed is as fast as the wind.

The legendary vehicle is in ghost form, allowing the rider to travel to places inaccessible to the living.

The legendary vehicle is said to be ferocious and has a certain "intimidating and repelling" effect on most undead, but because it is so precious, it also attracts the covetousness and attempts to steal from powerful undead.

"Okay, mount +1, but not just any mount +1."

Diakum blinked, opened his arms wide in the sunlight, and smiled, shouting in his heart:
"I am Highlord Diakum! I am also a rich guy with a Spectral Tiger! I love the 'Battle of Stormwind' dungeon this time, the rewards for clearing it are so generous."

--------

Sunlight Forest, a secluded and dense forest near Stranglethorn Vale, is historically known as "Wol Valley Ogre Mountain".

Of course, the ogres are currently staying obediently under the ambitious leader Margok, working for the rise of the Goria Empire, and they won't come to Azeroth to reproduce; at least, there's no sign of that happening yet.

But this remote mountainous area of ​​Sunshine Forest already has "residents".

The local gray wolves are gathering here abnormally. They hunt in packs nearby but dare not approach the caves in the mountains. More powerful creatures that live in symbiosis with the wolves reside in these caves. They still maintain the habits they had when they were human, making themselves simple armor from cloth and leather, and even searching for weapons to arm themselves.

Their numbers are still small, but there are already nearly a hundred people.

They were led by a powerful gray-maned werewolf, who was currently deep inside the cave, kneeling and praying before a statue he had carved with his claws. However, it was not the image of the White Wolf God, but a holy icon of the Church of Holy Light.

Even after he had transformed into a werewolf, he still believed in the Holy Light.

Behind him, some werewolves in spellcaster form were busy at work. The cave was filled with the severely wounded they had brought back from the battlefield of Stormwind. The most honorable one among them was receiving the blessing of the White Wolf God and undergoing painful physical changes.

The power of the Holy Light and the Wolf God constantly fought back and forth within his body for his soul, and the collision of the two primal forces caused him unbearable pain.

"hehe."

A low laugh echoed in the cave, but the werewolves couldn't hear it.

The black wolf god Lycanthos sat crouching in the corner of the cave, watching with great interest as the human was transformed into a werewolf. Opposite him, the white wolf god Goldrinn sat there like a mirror image.

The two giant wolves looked almost identical, except for their fur color; one was pure black, and the other was pure white.

"My hunting party lost."

Lecanthos said:
"But it wasn't your pack that was defeated, Goldrinn. Am I mistaken? Ten thousand years later, you've become so weak. Why choose a new pack? Where is your most valiant pack? Where is your most valiant alpha wolf?"

Why not unleash them, let them wield your wild fury and easily crush me?

The White Wolf God did not answer.

Perhaps they were too lazy to answer, or perhaps they disdained to answer.

Its arrogant attitude left the Black Wolf God helpless. As it vanished into shadow, Lycanthos sneered:

"You're scared! You've become cautious, Goldrinn. It seems you've realized you made a mistake, so you're being extra careful in choosing your hunting packs this time. But how much time do you think I'll give you for your pack to slowly multiply?"

Ha, that fool Zul'jid clearly has his own plans. The intensity of the conflict between the orcs and the human kingdoms will slow down, which means I can finally focus my attention on fighting you.

Goldling.
I hope you and your hunting pack are ready!
You know, what I want isn't victory, and what you should fear isn't defeat.

The Black Wolf God left, and the White Wolf God finally stopped maintaining his aloofness.

Its blood-red eyes reflected its still-weak hunting pack. It knew that this pitiful size was far from enough to withstand the hunting pack that Lycanthos had spent ten thousand years building and the vanguard it had chosen.

That is the shadow of one's own strife.

It possesses almost all of its own abilities, and now, through the purification of death, it has shed the mixed evil energy and life force. It will continue to draw power from death and eventually possess strength that surpasses its own.

This can't go on!

Goldling stared at Bolvar Fordragon, who was struggling on the stone platform.

It stepped forward and gently pressed its claws against the paladin's forehead, as if discarding something useless. With a flick of its claws, the holy light was driven from his body.

The Holy Light Force is strong, but that doesn't mean Bolvar Fordragon is strong.

This man with immense potential should never have become a paladin. He is consumed by revenge, and his own power is far more suited to him!
Reflecting on what it had seen these past few days, Goldrinn realized that if it remained confined to the southern border of the continent, it would never be able to allow its hunting pack to grow rapidly. However, at this moment, it was not only the Storm Kingdom that was facing the threat of war.

The white wolf's bloodshot eyes looked northward.

There are humans there too, and they too face an imminent invasion—demons! Yes, the demons' gaze has already fallen upon the land where the Arathor Empire once stood.

perhaps
Goldling realized that it should adopt some "necessary tactics".

(End of this chapter)