Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 289, Section 46. The Wonder of Faith: Guidance in Light and Shadow - Bonus Chapter for "Huo Zheng Ting Hao" [1115]

On the carriage back to Stormwind Keep, Garona, who had recently been working in security, fiddled with the black "Death Spike" in her hand.

This was a gift from her powerful saintly grandfather, a tentacle bone spur from the Thousand-Eyed Demon, a true mythical weapon material. Garona was very satisfied with this dangerous thing, which was soaked in the power of the void. With just a little processing, it could be made into a "spellbreaker dagger" that could tear apart the mind and was therefore very suitable for dealing with spellcasters.

Although Garona did not participate in the battle of Silithus, Dick believed that she protected Lothar very well and therefore deserved to be commended.

The orc assassin admired her grandfather's clear-cut approach to rewards and punishments, which rekindled her enthusiasm for her previously tedious work. Feeling she should help Marshal Lothar alleviate some of his stress, she turned to Khadgar, who currently served as his magical advisor, and asked:

"Hello, can you get in touch with Dalaran?"
Furthermore, the letter only stated that Dalaran was severely damaged; just how severely? If they still had the resources, they should have sent mages to use mass teleportation to evacuate as many civilians as possible to safe zones before the demons spread on a large scale.

“I have a name, not ‘Hey.’ And my magical connection with Dalaran has been completely severed.”

Khadgar looked very grim. He said:

"It wasn't the mages who cut it off; it must have been the demons who severed the magical communication. But I know that in Dalaran's city defense guidelines, a powerful spell like the Violet Barrier, which consumes a lot of energy, can only be activated in the most dangerous moments."

The fact that the Council of Six has already opened the barrier means that the situation is more serious than we thought.

The fact that the great demon named 'Kazroga' was able to directly attack the city suggests that a traitorous mage likely opened a portal to the Twisting Nether within the city.

The Burning Legion has deployed so many lurking demons in the Northlands that they know Dalaran is the only force capable of stopping their rapid spread. Therefore, it is possible that Dalaran was the area most targeted by the demons during yesterday's demon invasion.

It's regrettable, but I think we probably can't count on the Magic City anymore.

"Tch, Dalaran isn't even as good as the Goria Empire."

Garona sneered:

"At least the ogre wizard king of Draenor is reliable in critical moments, but your mages are not so certain."

"Garona, don't say that."

Dick, sitting in the main seat of the carriage, gave a reprimand.

His expression was somewhat cold, but not ugly. As a "professional demon slayer" hated by countless demons, the Vigilant was quite familiar with the process of demon invasion.

Demons come for destruction, so their primary target is always the city, because only in the city are there enough lives for them to slaughter and enjoy.

Given that demons are always greedy for souls, and only densely populated areas can satisfy their desires, in other words, villages and remote areas are currently safe until the major cities of the northern frontier are completely destroyed.

Given the level of civilization in northern Xinjiang, the rural population makes up the vast majority, so most people are safe.

But it's only temporary.

Once the number of demons entering the world exceeds a certain threshold, the lower-level demon army spreading outward from the city ruins will enter a "sucking and draining" mode, sweeping away everything in its vicinity according to the orders of the demon commander.

The demonic invasion will not end until there are no more souls left to savor on this land, and the next phase of spreading fel energy to corrupt and ravage the planet will begin.

Given the population size of humans and other races in the northern border region, if left unchecked, that place will become a "paradise" and "cafeteria" for demons for a very long time to come.

"The Corruptors' primary target is the continent of Kalimdor. Logically speaking, the Eastern Kingdoms are merely secondary strategic objectives for them. There isn't much on this land that would warrant a major offensive by the demons."

In the carriage on the way to Stormwind, Diakum stroked his chin and said to Khadgar:

"There has been no news of a large-scale invasion of Kalimdor yet, which means that the main force of the Defilers has not actually moved. The demons that entered the Eastern Kingdoms were just vanguards used for reconnaissance and harassment. But given the Burning Legion's efficiency, once the vanguards move freely, it means that the main army will soon follow."

If the Northern Frontier cannot stop the counterattack, then we will soon witness the spectacular sight of a large number of legendary demon commanders and demigod demons entering Azeroth in droves.

But as I said before, before the Kaldorei moon goddess realm is defeated, the intensity of the human war against demons won't escalate to a point where you can't handle it. The lower demons aren't as invincible as you think.

"Before you, all demons are weak, but you really can't expect human warriors who have spent most of their lives fighting trolls to muster the courage to face the ferocious demon guards."

Garona, however, was not optimistic about humanity's war against the demons, and the orc assassin shook his head, saying:
"Demons are creations of fel energy. Brutality and a thirst for battle are their innate nature. If the Northern Frontier Kingdom is at the same level as the Stormwind Kingdom before, then they may soon face their own 'Battle of Stormwind'."

"I'm going to risk going to Dalaran!"

Khadgar looked up at Diakum and said:
“Garona is right. Currently in the Northern Frontier, Dalaran is the only organization capable of evacuating civilians on a large scale before the disaster spreads. I must go to that city to mobilize my mage companions to fulfill their duties.”

"You stay here obediently!"

Before Diakum could speak, Garona objected, the orc sternly rebuking her:
"Among the local archmages, only you can coordinate with High Overlord Mar'gok in Azeroth. As soon as the Book of Medivh is delivered, the Dark Portal must be opened immediately! This is a crucial factor in whether you can obtain reinforcements from Draenor."

You need to clearly define your responsibilities!

With your current skill level, you can't even beat me. Going to the northern frontier would be suicide!

You're a mage! You must ensure you remain rational at all times and don't let bad news throw you into a panic.

"But people are dying every single second! I can't convince myself to turn a blind eye!"

Khadgar roared at his orc friend.

This caused Diakum, who was pondering a solution, to change his expression as he looked at him. The Watcher remarked:

"Perhaps the path of the Holy Light is more suitable for you than arcane magic, Khadgar."

"I'm sorry, I didn't. I didn't mean to mock your indifference towards the Northern Frontier, I just..."

The young monk immediately realized he had said the wrong thing.

But the vigilant waved his hand, indicating that this was unnecessary. He stroked his sacred book and said:
“I’ll figure something out about Dalaran. I have an idea that we might try, but Garona’s point is valid. You need to stay rational.”

When the carriage returned to Stormwind, Diakum saw through the window the workers chiseling stones to repair the city walls.

They are artisans that Lothar recruited from the populace. Working here allows them and their families to earn more food. In Stormwind Kingdom, where rationing is now in effect, the workers are quite diligent.

The watcher also noticed a very young human foreman leading several young men to transport an ancient statue of the moon goddess. The stone was taken from the ancient temple of Sargeras' Tomb, which had been smashed in the commercial district. They seemed to be planning to transport the sacred statue to the church district in the city, which was also under reconstruction.

The few Watcher ladies who remained in Stormwind Kingdom had a small chapel there, a resting place specially granted by Archbishop Alonsus Faol, who even allowed them to conduct limited missionary work.

However, although the Watchers are also a category of Moon Priests, these sisters who are more accustomed to "talking about physics" are not good at preaching the doctrines of the Moon Goddess. Therefore, the small chapel is currently still used as a gathering place for high elf warriors stranded in Stormwind.

Edwin Van Cleef

Diakum accurately named the young foreman, then glanced at the workers bustling on the city walls. The "Stonemasters' Brotherhood," which would leave a significant mark on the history of Stormwind Kingdom, might soon appear as well.

This is fate's self-correction. The people are still the same, but the deviation of countless individual destinies will eventually drive the potential energy of fate in another direction.

“It’s time to exercise some of the ‘privileges of faith’.”

The Vigilant glanced at his character card. The meager "faith power" he had accumulated from the pitiful development of the Lightsworn and Shadowchasers factions during this period was almost negligible, but he decided to use these precious resources today.

Before that, however, he needed to consult some "professionals" about the specific methods of using the power of faith.

I definitely can't go to Bwonsamdi, that guy's asking price is too high. Luckily, I've met other Loa in Silithus.

"parking."

The guard said something, and the royal carriage came to a stop.

He, Khadgar, and Garona disembarked from the carriage and went to a garbage dump on a street corner where workers had discarded construction debris. The Watcher looked around and whispered to the two of them:
"Keep an eye on things for me, I need to summon a deity."

"what?"

The young high priest was dumbfounded.

I thought to myself, "You're just a demigod of light and shadow, why are you asking for a god?"
Who are you planning to invite?

Diakum casually picked up a piece of wood and used a light-carving knife to carve a small wooden sculpture. Upon closer inspection, he found it quite shabby, but thankfully, the "god" he was going to invite wasn't too particular.

He placed the wooden carving on the pile of trash, took out a small bottle filled with magic and sprinkled it around, chanting incantations:

"God of Scavengers, God of Garbage, God of Abandonment, Guardian of the Garbage Heap, God of Scavengers, Venerable Old Gani, with the sacrifice of all the garbage heaps in this city, I fervently summon you to appear here."

Khadgar was dumbfounded by the strange incantation.

He was a sorcerer, and in his short life he had seen all sorts of strange and bizarre things, but he had never seen anything like this before, where people were invoking gods over a pile of garbage.

broken!

Could the vigilant be hallucinating due to excessive stress? Are there really gods in this world who consider garbage dumps their territory?
Hey!
This kind of unorthodox god seems to have no reason to exist, right?

"puff"

Just as Khadgar was hesitating about whether to take the temperature of the Vigilant's head, a strange-looking but brightly colored, frail dinosaur spirit actually emerged from the garbage heap amidst a rising cloud of smoke.

Those bright, cunning eyes were filled with wariness and curiosity.

"Wow, a distant city, a city of ruins! Here are piles of garbage, here are treasures waiting to be redistributed! Old Gani likes it here, so, my summoner, do you want Old Gani to help you?"
Holy crap! Aren't you that guy?

"Aren't you the one who killed C'Thun in the Silithus desert?"

"It's not good that you can't remember other people's names. My name is Diakum."

The vigilant sighed and said:

“I know this name is a bit awkward and complicated compared to the names of trolls, but Gani, you are a Loa after all. Never mind that, I want to learn from you how to use the power of faith.”

The reward is ownership of all of Stormwind's junkyards.

"Wow, how generous, my blue-skinned friend."

The old fellow was quite pleased with the reward. It wagged its paw, circled Diakum a few times, sneezed a few more times, and said:

"But you're a rich man, and old Gani doesn't like rich people! Your jewels are blinding me, so let's get straight to the point. There are many ways to use the power of faith, all-encompassing, and no one in this world knows how to use it better than us Loa gods."

Tell me first, what do you intend to do with your precious power of faith?

"A calamity of demonic invasion is breaking out in the northern border of this continent. I need to see the situation there with my own eyes, and if possible, temporarily elevate a few believers there."

Diakum explained:
“I need to give them a certain amount of power so that they can fight against demons and protect the people, but my chapter only accepts Lightforged, so this has to be done in a ‘follower and follower’ model.”

I'm not very good at this.

“I understand. You need to create a few temporary ‘god warriors’ to do the dirty work for you! That’s easy.”

Old Gani truly deserves to be called the most approachable of all the Loa gods.

It quickly imparted this knowledge to Diakum, and the Watcher was very satisfied. So he turned around, got into the carriage, and began to put it into practice. Old Gani was also satisfied with fulfilling his promise and was planning to take a trip around this ruined city and urinate on every garbage dump to declare his territory.

But before they could act, they heard Khadgar call out:

"Hey handsome Luo, please wait a moment!"

"Ok?"

Old Gani looked back at Khadgar suspiciously, then sneezed several times, stepped back, and said:
"Get away from me! You damn rich man, the stench of your wealth is overwhelming me. Speak your mind, or shut up!"

"I'm a fucking penniless bastard, okay?!"

Khadgar was momentarily embarrassed, then explained:
"I have nothing of value."

"You have the mage tower left to you by your mentor, and the treasures inside are all your property. You also have a title, and perhaps even a territory! Damn it! You cunning rich man, don't even think about pretending to be a pauper to get close to me."

Old Ghani jumped up and cursed:
On behalf of all the poor people in the world, I vehemently condemn you!

"Okay, I can't argue with that."

Khadgar hesitated for a moment, then whispered:

"You can appear in any garbage dump, right?"

"How is it?"

Old Gani snorted and flicked his tail, saying:
"All the garbage dumps in the world belong to old Gani. Of course, old Gani is a Loa with principles. I won't just patronize those garbage dumps that belong to others."

"Could you deliver a letter to the junkyard in Dalaran? That city was just invaded by demons, and it's full of ruins. There should be a lot of junkyards there."

Kagard rubbed his hands together and said:

"There are also garbage dumps in the villages in the northern frontier. We can send messages to those poor people and tell them to go to their respective nearby seaports as soon as possible. The Kul Tiras fleet will soon send ships to pick them up."

"Well, it's not impossible. Sending a message won't take much time, but what about the offerings?"

Old Ghani blinked at Khadgar, extended a claw, and said:

"Don't try to smear my eyes with your treasures. Old Gani only wants trash as a sacrifice, and it has to be useful trash. If you can't offer it, don't blame Old Gani for not helping you."

Khadgar blinked.

This strange request made him ponder for a few seconds. Just as he was scratching his head, wondering where to find trash for this odd Loa, Garona leaned over and whispered a few words in his ear. The young archmage then gave the yew wood staff in his hand a strange look.

He hardened his heart, channeled his magic, snapped his yew staff in two with a snap, and handed it to old Gani, whose eyes were wide open.

Say:
"Look, this brand-new, junk staff, even if repaired, can never be restored to its original state, but it's still very precious, is that enough?"

"Wow, you're quite the talent!"

Old Gani snorted, reluctantly accepting the staff. He decided to take it back to repair it for his chief high priest of the garbage dump. He wagged his tail and said:
"Go, write the letter. I'll come pick it up in ten minutes. Make sure to specify where and to whom it's being delivered, so I don't make a wasted trip. You're quite capable, old Gani approves of you. If you ever run into trouble, contact me through the garbage dump, and I'll help you."

But don't try anything funny next time.

My goal is to help the poor, but I cannot do so by damaging their treasures.

You are insulting us poor folks. We may be poor, but we still have dignity.

If you want garbage, then you only want garbage!

Understand? "

------

Bishop Benedettas, the Holy Light Priest of the Cathedral of Lordaeron, returned wearily to his meditation room.

Compared to his usual simple but clean robes, today he was covered in blood.

That was the blood stained from treating those brave warriors and innocent wounded. The demons that suddenly appeared attacked the city last night and have not stopped since. King Terenas' brave knights, led by Sir Uther, have repeatedly fought the demons for control of the city walls. In just yesterday, the number of casualties in the city exceeded ten thousand.

"Cowards who embraced fel energy opened portals in the city, and screaming imps and ferocious hellhounds rushed out from the darkest alleys, where unsuspecting innocents became their prey."

Larger rifts appeared outside the city, and hordes of demon guards charged toward the city walls. The sky was filled with flying demon bats and doom guards. Near the church, I saw three streets destroyed by hellfire.

Corpses lay strewn across the fields, and everywhere, kind-hearted people who had lost loved ones wept bitterly.

The demons howled, their only desire being to feast on that mouthful of blood and to torment the souls of the dead.
Oh my god! Oh my god!
Holy Light.

The usually stoic bishop knelt before the emblem representing holy light.

He clasped his hands tightly to his chest, closed his eyes, and recalled the human tragedy he had witnessed that day.

He desperately longed for the Holy Light to descend and grant divine protection to the city and the kingdom that had suddenly fallen into turmoil.

Just as his mentor, Archbishop Alonsus Faol, wrote in his letter, a saint from a foreign land descended upon the Stormwind Kingdom in a radiant light, bringing hope and a reversal of fortune to the land besieged by the Greenskins.

The Kingdom of Lordaeron also needs such a miracle.

but no.

No miracle occurred from the holy light.

Even the obstruction and pollution of demons made it extremely difficult for priests in the city to sense the holy light.

It was as if, in this desperate moment, the Holy Light had abandoned them.

"why?"

The devout Benedictus did not abandon his faith in the Holy Light because of this, but he really couldn't understand why the power of faith could not protect the good people when they needed it most.

Is the Holy Light not as omnipotent as it has always proclaimed? Is light destined to be defeated by darkness? Is this land destined to be shrouded in shadow? Is this some kind of trial from the light?
"If this is a trial, then please enlighten me, Holy Light."

He whispered, bowing his head to the emblem, seeking strength from his faith to persevere, but there was no response for a long time; only the darkness outside the window, mingled with mournful cries, kept him company. Perhaps.
"The fire under the sun is scorching and burning, but it is not as guiding as the glimmer of light in the darkness. The Holy Light has not abandoned you and this city, Benedictus, the Holy Light has found you, the Holy Light has embraced you."

You have entered the darkness; now you must ignite that light!

As the bishop looked up abruptly, the holy emblem before him burst forth with rays of light, as if some divine miracle had descended. The light converged before him into a phantom of a winged seraphim holding a sword and a scripture.

She looked at him with an authoritative gaze that day.

"Be my eyes, my blade, and my torch."

The voice called out:

"Embrace the holy light, but do not resist the shadows. Lost child, this city needs you! Come, step into the light of the vigilant."

(End of this chapter)