Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 326, Section 16. Forge it, for this is your destiny! Garrosh, Whisper of Heaven
"That's terrible, they're all cooked."

That night, in the Goldshire military camp, Yrel, who had returned from the campaign, glanced at the wounded soldiers' shelter and happened to see Archbishop Benedictus walking out with a sorrowful expression. The archbishop was making a triangular sign on his chest while muttering something like "too brave" and "smells of roasted meat" that was hard to understand.

Little Hoof sensed something was wrong and looked inside again, only to find two Fireblade Sword Saints standing guard at the door.

"What's going on?"

Irelia wagged her tail and asked:

"They were perfectly fine when they entered the tower."

"Garrosh bravely confronted his fate!"

Sword Saint Samuro said solemnly:
"He delivered the fatal blow to Zulushid before the monster could escape, for which he suffered terrible injuries."

"You can speak perfectly human language!"

Another swordsman, Lantrisol, leaned on his sword and said with a smirk:

"Garrosh was roasted by the Holy Light of the Vigilant. That guy was too close to the core area of ​​the Sunbombardment. He's not a Lightforged, but he insisted on doing what a Lightforged should do."

That's called recklessness!
That guy took his oath too seriously, and almost lost his life as a result.

"You can't just casually judge a Mag'har warchief with such a distinguished record! Lantresor, Garrosh may be young, but he is a role model for all Mag'har orcs!"

Samuro countered:

"He represents our spirit of resistance, and it was his killing of Zulushid that laid the foundation for today's great victory. He is a hero of two worlds."

Seeing that the two sword saint best buddies, who were clearly on good terms but always quarreled, were arguing again, Yrel sighed. She carried her holy blade into the healing clinic and saw Jorin Deadeye sitting to the side receiving "treatment" from the Lightforged Chapter's artisans.

As for why a trained engineer would treat an orc warlock, just look at his severed leg.

Yorin Deadeye encountered a terrible monster in the nightmare, and he only managed to get out by breaking his leg. However, the young Mag'har warlock did not feel ashamed of his disability, because the "Skull of Zul'hild" that he was playing with in his hand was the true symbol of glory!

Moreover, the sorcerer's scythe, which emanated a chilling aura, was lying beside him.

Most importantly, with the Lightforged Chapter's Starsea cybernetic prosthetics, Yorin's movements, despite losing a leg, will not be greatly affected.

Are you sure you want to use this?

As Irelia passed by him, she glanced at the malevolent scythe and commented:

“I don’t even need to listen carefully to hear Zulushid’s soul screaming in it. That might be your fate too, Yorin. This magic scythe will never have a mortal master.”

"Only a third of the soul is not enough to satisfy the evil creature. It's a pity that that bastard Zul'had made preparations in advance, and we were unable to find his soul stone, but it doesn't matter."

As Yolin Deadeye adorned the skull in his hand with orcish elemental tattoos, he allowed the Lightforged craftsman to attach mechanical prosthetic legs to him, then waved his hand and said:
"You don't need to worry that this magic scythe will hurt me."

"This time when I return to Draenor, I will complete my 'Blood Ring Ritual.' After sacrificing my own eyes, I will be able to see my death. Reverence for death will help me to more reliably wield the Scythe of Uthalus. You need not worry, Commander Yrel."

The orc warlock grinned, reached out and stroked the magic scythe, and said:

"Only with Zul'hild's soul inside can we lure the last part of his consciousness to take the bait. It's a lure, like fishing, you understand? After I complete this hunt, I will hand this dangerous magic scythe over to the Lightforged Chapter for disposal."
What's hidden inside this thing is terrifying; it possesses a horrible 'ideal' that's clearly beyond the reach of a mortal like myself.

"Don't let my status as a warlock fool you; I value my life highly. I still need to rebuild the Blood Ring Clan; I don't have time to go looking for my own death."

"Hmph, you'd better do so."

Irele gave a warning.

She then continued forward to Garrosh Hellscream's bedside, where Griselda Blackhand was also resting. Blackhand's daughter was incredibly fierce; during the battle that broke into the Shattered Dream, she single-handedly killed two demon lords, making her a new generation of Mag'har "female slasher".

Of course, compared to Garrosh's glorious record, she is clearly still lacking.

"We're really familiar with each other now."

Yrel smelled a nauseating odor of roasted meat, and then she saw Garrosh covered in bandages from head to toe, like a mummy, with only his tightly closed eyes showing.

She sighed and said:

“This injury is troublesome. If what they say is true, that Garrosh took the Vigilant’s blow head-on, the additional damage from the Holy Flame Burn could leave him crippled even if he wakes up.”

"It's not that scary."

Griselda waved her hand and said:
“Garrosh can pull through. I believe the men of the Hellscream family are all monsters, just like his father, creating miracles. Didn’t Grom survive being burned to a skeleton by the Vigilantes?”

This may be the destiny of the Warsong Chieftain.

However, I have an idea now.

The Blackhand's daughter, resting her chin on her hand, rolled her eyes, looking at Garrosh wrapped up like a mummy, and said to Yrel:
"Back in Silithus, Garrosh witnessed firsthand the way the Lightforged fought and greatly admired you. He believed that the eternal war between the Legion of Light and the Burning Legion was the most perfect ending a warrior could achieve."

I could tell he wasn't joking!

Although this madman also wanted to rebuild the Warsong Clan from his father's downfall, he personally truly hoped to embrace that kind of ending. The men of the Hellscream family were like that; since his grandfather's generation, they had enjoyed wars with the strong.

I actually think it's a waste to keep a warrior as promising as Garrosh trapped in Draenor. What I mean is, why not take this opportunity to Lightforge him!

Let Garrosh be one of you!
In this way, he could both embrace the endless war he craved, become a legendary figure in Mag'har, and gain the power enhanced by the Holy Light, making it even more likely that he would challenge his father later.”

Griselda clenched her fist, then shook her head, saying with a regretful expression:
"Although Garrosh has been fighting like a madman to unlock his potential, you and I both know that he is no match for Grom Hellscream. Grom could take down someone like Zul'Gurub with a single axe blow, but Garrosh would have to pay with half his life."

Although I don't know what the greenskin tribe in the Burning Steppes is planning, the warrior muscles in my head are telling me that their actions won't be long.

Given Garrosh's current injuries, it will take him ages to fully recover, and he definitely won't be able to make it back for the life-or-death battle with Grom.

If he had really missed that battle, he would have regretted it to death.

See, there are plenty of reasons, so don't hesitate, let's lightforge Garrosh tonight!

After speaking, the Blackhand's daughter looked at Yrel with a serious expression. The little hoof didn't answer, but after a moment, she stared at Griselda with a strange look and said:

"Let me sort out your thoughts. Aside from the seemingly reasonable reasons you mentioned above, what you really mean is to have the Lightforged Chapter help you 'eliminate' a competitor, is that right?"

Are you so eager to seize sole power over the Maghar tribe?
Is this lust for power, this tendency to scheme against even one's own people, something you inherited from the Dark Hand?

"Damn, you!"

Grisada was shocked when Irell saw through her thoughts.

Sigh, wasn't it said that this Yrel was notorious for using divine storms instead of her brain to think? How come she's suddenly so smart?
This is wrong!

The muscles inside your skull have softened and turned into your brain.
"What's that look in your eyes?"

Irelia snorted rather unhappily, crossed her arms, and said:
"We are the Lightforgers who walk the path of light and shadow! We know that power needs the guidance and restraint of wisdom. Just because I don't use my brain normally doesn't mean I don't have a brain."

You're a bit too dangerous!
"If you really take power, Draenor will never have a peaceful day again."

"Tch, so you're telling me whether or not we should Lightforge Garrosh?"

Griselda dropped the pretense and spread her hands, saying:
“I admit I have my own selfish motives, but the facts are as they are, Garrosh must find a more effective way to increase his power.”

"What did you two say?"

Diakum's voice came from outside the door. The two turned around and saw the human-shaped Guardian with his hands behind his back striding into the room as the five golden angels hummed a hymn.

He also came to check on Garrosh's condition.

"I already said that Zul'hild was the trial target of the Guardians of Tirisfal, but this reckless guy interfered and executed an enemy who didn't belong to him. Grom really raised a good son."

Diakum glanced at Garrosh's condition and immediately understood the situation.

Even a "healing expert" like him doesn't need to take a pulse or cast a spell to know that with normal rest, even with the exaggerated physique of an orc, it would take at least half a year before he could barely walk again.

Diakum knew better than anyone the power of the solar bombardment he had personally unleashed.

Given Xiaohou's legendary lower-level skill, it's already a miracle that he didn't immediately become a "futures dead man."

However, after listening to Griselda and Yrel's descriptions, Diakum stroked his chin, looked at Garrosh who was barely breathing, and said:
"It's not that it's impossible. If Garrosh is fixated on 'Warsong Oath,' Lightforged is indeed a good option to improve his strength, but I need to ask for his own opinion."

After all, joining the Lightforged Chapter means bidding farewell to worldly power.

"what about me?"

Upon hearing this, Irele blinked and said:
"Can I step down as the next leader of the Draenei clan early?"

"Oh, the Eredar are immortal, so this doesn't apply to you."

Diakum patted Irelia on the head and said:
"You better follow Lothar and Llane and learn political tactics properly. You'll serve as the High Archon of the Draenei clan for at least three thousand years before you can step down. Then you can happily pick up your holy sword and fight demons or whatever the hell is going to get a good fight."

This is your duty, Irelia.

"You cannot escape." With that, the Watcher placed his hand on Garrosh's forehead, and under the priest's spiritual guidance, his consciousness smoothly entered Garrosh's mental world.

This scene is very similar to the scene when Medivh awakened Grom Hellscream, but Grom's inner world is obviously not as "sounding and pleasant" as Garrosh's.

It was still on the Nagrand plains, but there were broken axes everywhere!

In the blood-red glow of the setting sun, Garrosh, covered in blood, was locked in a desperate battle with a dark figure. Beside the broken axes lay the corpses of Garrosh, one after another. A gust of cold wind blew, parting the grass of the vast plains to reveal the hidden bodies.

This was a battle that lasted for an unknown amount of time, and Garrosh lost countless times; he hadn't won even once.

"Ah, can't young people these days build up some mortal world in their minds? Spending all day honing themselves in this gloomy environment, constantly receiving lessons in setbacks, it would be a miracle if their abilities actually improved."

Diakum covered his eyes in despair.

He raised his hand and whispered:

“If this continues, Grom Hellscream will become your nightmare! In your own mental world, you don’t even dare to dream of being able to beat your old man! With this kind of mentality, you’ll never be able to defeat him in this lifetime.”

"buzz"

The bright light shone down, causing this overly dark spiritual world to collapse, and then, through the reorganization of the Vigilants, the Nagrand plains were restored to a sunlit spring.

Panting heavily, Garrosh turned around and looked at the Watcher. He staggered over, his battle axe falling to the ground, and finally knelt down with a thud.

"I can't win."

He said in a hoarse voice:

“I’ve tried countless times! I’m no match for that guy now. It might take me more than a decade to hone my martial arts skills and mind before I can challenge my crazy father when I’m at my strongest.”

But he won't give me that much time.

I can't win.

"I regret to inform you, Garrosh, that your target, 'Madman' Grom Hellscream, is dead. Now that he has found the right path, he is ten times more dangerous than before."

Diakum reached out and pulled the despairing Garrosh to his feet, saying:

"Your time is indeed running out, so I'm asking you if you want to use the power of the Holy Light to unleash your potential ahead of time?"

"You mean optical casting?"

Garrosh shook his head and said:
"How can I complete the forging of light if I do not believe in the Holy Light?"

“Your understanding of the Holy Light is too narrow, but considering you are a warrior, I can’t be too harsh on you.”

The vigilant shook his head and said:

"As long as your mind is strong enough to bring purity to the Mag'har orcs, and your moral conviction to protect your people and the world from the same tragedy is firm enough, you can still complete the Lightforging even if you do not believe in the Holy Light."

That's a very idealistic Force, Garrosh.

The Holy Light doesn't even care whether you use His power to protect or fight; as long as your purpose in fighting is to protect those beautiful things, the Holy Light will bestow blessings upon you.

There are warriors like you among the Lightforged.

One of my disciples can even cast shadow spells with a body forged from light; goals and morality are the most important.

You remain one of Draenor's most formidable warriors, only now burdened by the Mandate of the Light, which imposes additional constraints on your actions.

"I see."

Garrosh nodded, pondered for a moment, and then asked:
"So, can Lightforging fully unleash my potential?"

"It depends on the person; after all, everyone's physical condition is different."

Diakum explained:
"But the Lightforging Ritual will strengthen your individual life from the root. It can absolutely unleash your potential. If your morality is strong enough to move the Holy Light, it will even give you the extra power to shake your heavy fate, just like my 'Hand of Fate'."

But it's really hard to do that.

Because He is idealistic, you can deceive yourself, but you cannot deceive the Holy Light.

"I don't need to deceive, and I disdain deceiving."

Garrosh clenched his fist and shouted:

"I don't want to miss the battle against Grom Hellscream, not just because of my oath. I must defeat him to wash away the shame of the orcs, and I must personally crush him so that he won't have to wander this world that doesn't belong to him with such a heavy burden of guilt."

Vigilant, I want my father to rest in peace!
That was my mother's last wish. Gaia Anzo told me that my mother never harbored any resentment towards Grom Hellscream as she died. "I wanted to save him!"

"What a heavy wish."

Diakum nodded and said:

"Then I will complete the Lightforging for you, Garrosh. The Lightforged Chapter welcomes you to the fold. If you yearn for the endless eternal war, then I will bestow this honor upon you."

May the Holy Light bless you.

May the Holy Light bless your father.

------

"What do you mean you're willing to give me the title of 'Guardian of Tirisfal'?"

Also in Goldshire.

In a room on the third floor of the Lion King's Pride Inn, Khadgar glared at Margok and Kael'thas. He clenched his fists, his voice hoarse as he tended to his friends, and hissed:
"You two! What do you take this title of 'Guardian' for, passing it around in secret?! You bastards, is this some kind of item that can be bought and sold privately?"
This is an honor!

This is our duty!

This is"

"Come on, Khadgar, don't be stupid and say all that to me. It's just a job."

Margok reached out and pressed his hand on Khadgar's shoulder, and the wizard leader said earnestly:
"The reason this title is so great isn't because of the position itself, but because previous Guardians were all of high moral character. Wasn't your mentor Medivh a 'different' Guardian?"

Can you say that his series of actions were great?

"A person is never noble because of their position; it is the legacy they inherit that makes them noble!"

Even the somewhat weakened Kael'thas shook his head and said:

"If you continue with this mindset, Khadgar, then perhaps you are not suited to be the Guardian of Tirisfal. Your constant adoration will only distance you further from the true meaning of being a Guardian."

The Wizarding Chief was right; it was just a job.

For those with strength and conviction, they can become guardians even without that staff, which is why Marco Polo and I wanted to discuss this with you.

We both have reasons to give it up.

"And I'm not giving you this precious opportunity, Khadgar."

Margok snorted and said:
"I'm not as noble as you think. I gave it up in exchange for an opportunity. When I'm ready, you'll extract a portion of the arcane power from the Holy Staff to help me ascend to demigod status in a 'perfect' manner!"

"impossible!"

Khadgar, with his neck stiff, said:
"I wouldn't do such a thing!"

"Oh, alright then, go and save people in the northern border region with your own hands."

The wizard leader sneered:
"I want to see how you, without power, can fulfill your burning desire to protect others. Khadgar, you need this power!"
Garona told me everything. Ever since you learned what happened in the Northlands, you've been in a state of severe anxiety. You supported Kael'thas in obtaining the Guardian's Staff because you knew Kael'thas wouldn't betray that power.

"But rather than placing your desires on others, Khadgar, my friend."

Kael'thas said softly:
"Why not take up the holy staff yourself and become the protector of mankind?"

I am a high elf, not one of your kind. I have a duty and mission to protect my people. And do you think it's a good thing to let me gain prestige in your kingdom?

Marshal Lothar is about to launch a campaign to restore his kingdom. As one of his archmages, aren't you more qualified than I to be the guardian of the Arathor Empire?
Accept this deal! This isn't about hurting you.

At this point, Kael'thas lowered his voice and said:
"Another reason I reached an agreement with the Wizarding Chieftain is that I don't believe Dalaran is entitled to reclaim the Staff of the Guardian! You know better than I do what's going on inside Dalaran. Why do you think Lady Aegwynn and Medivh took the Staff of the Guardian away from there?"
You are now a wild mage, Khadgar.

You are truly the most suitable person to take on this responsibility right now. I think you should have known when Medivh left Karazhan to you that he had chosen you as the next Guardian.

He personally assessed you and he thinks you are a perfect fit.

Therefore, you are also a part of Medivh's 'Unity' plan! You don't need to fear fate, because you are already part of it!

(End of this chapter)