Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 371, Section 61: Goldrinn and Lecanthos Transform into Wolves - Bonus Chapter for the "Ho Zheng Ting Hao" Brothers [35]

"cough cough"

The ruins of the World Tree Temple have had rocks lifted up.

With Illidan's cough, Starhunter crawled awkwardly out of the ground, then reached out to pull Malfurion up, and finally Nightsworn.

They were too close to Nordrassil. Although the destructive energy was blocked, it still forced them into the churning underground. Fortunately, the Nightsworn did not lose control, and the cold moon still shrouded them.

But when the three of them crawled out, they saw a bustling battlefield. The people who had just fought side by side were now engaged in a fierce battle at the site where the Great Demon Lord had fallen.

Especially the fierce battle between Goldrinn and Lecanthos.

The giant wolves tore at each other, their black and white fur stained with blood, flying everywhere, their roars shaking the ground.

"What exactly is going on?"

Malfurion, supported by his brother, watched the increasingly bloody battle ahead. As a high druid, he couldn't bear to watch this and thought that perhaps the two sides could stop and talk.

Goldrin is the god of the wilderness, and Lycanthos is now a Loa. Both have a place in the natural world, so what grudge could they possibly have that they can't settle?

You two used to be one!

Isn't this just pointless infighting?

"Don't get involved."

Illidan pulled his brother back. Though blind, the brother's mind was clear. He whispered:
"The god of the wilderness has an eternal spirit that does not die, and the physical body of the Loa is not a necessity. The two have become independent entities, and there is no question of life or death here today. The fact that they have gathered such a terrifying hunting group shows the depth of their contradictions."

A wolf pack may need a clear alpha wolf; outsiders should stay out of it.

Besides, we're in such a sorry state right now that we have no way to stop them. Tyrande needs to rest; let's escort her to a safe place first.

"but"

Malfurion still couldn't bring himself to watch Goldrinn continue this life-or-death battle, but before he could speak, he was interrupted by Nightsworn.

Tyrande grabbed Malfurion's hand and pulled him away, saying:
"Even Lady Elune couldn't control Goldrinn's wildness, so what right do you have to interfere? The silver moon has already fallen, and Lady Elune is watching over this place."

Let's go.

The Tree of Life collapsed, people lost their immortality, and demons wreaked havoc everywhere.

We have so much to do next.

Illidan picked up the broken Warblade of Azzinoth from behind him. This weapon, which had accompanied him on his hunts for millennia, was badly broken, but he still collected all the fragments, only to find that a few pieces seemed to be missing.
Did someone pick up a few pieces?
Illidan ignored these details, took one last "look" at the fierce wolf battle, and chased after his brother and Tyrande away.

As for the Star Hunter, he had dealt with the wolf packs of Lekanth during his millennia of hunting. In the current large-scale battle, the summoned wolves were all the most ferocious demon wolves, and the fel energy emanating from them was very obvious.

Illidan guessed that Lycanthos's fierce battle here today was probably also aimed at wearing down these dire wolves.

Black Wolf has embarked on the Loa path of life and death, and the less he is tainted by fel energy, the better. Goldrinn's decision to summon the Scytheclaw Hunters may well have been driven by the same idea.

Therefore, this is not only a fierce battle between two hunting groups, but also a "self-purification" process between the two hunting groups.

The two fierce and cunning giant wolf gods clearly have a plan, so it's best for outsiders not to interfere. Didn't you see that the Holy Light believers, who love to meddle, have already left the scene?
Given the Vigilant's style of doing things, and now with the Star Soul Lord's orders, if this fierce battle really harms the interests of Azeroth, he and that mysterious mage Aegwynn will definitely step in to stop it.

Moreover, given the current frenzied fighting, who can intervene at will?

Other factions, such as the Highmountain Minotaurs, Bearmen, and Boarmen, had already retreated under the wise command of Jarod Shadowsong. They had suffered heavy casualties and desperately needed to recuperate. Let these crazed wolf cubs fight it out; this was their internal conflict and did not require the intervention of the Anti-Demon Alliance.

Moreover, the black wolves of Lecanthos are demon wolves, which are also a type of demon!
Goldrinn was essentially fighting off the demons; the more of those sulfur-smelling bastards who died, the better!

Thus, the place where the World Tree once stood quickly became a feast for wolves.

Claw against claw, fang against fang; both were hunters driven by rage, having followed their respective alpha wolves here with no turning back.

The loser is destined to be completely devoured by the winner.

Every second, giant wolves, black or white, fall. Their bodies lie in the hunting grounds, where they are then trampled by their companions or enemies, their blood and bones falling into the churning mud, as if life were returning to the world after death.

This highland is destined to be very fertile in the future, because it has absorbed too much nourishment in the process of survival of the fittest.

The black wolves have a large hunting pack, but the white wolves have the unique Sickleclaw pack, making them evenly matched in terms of both quantity and quality.

But the wolf pack's slaughter and fighting could not affect the outcome of the war; the victory or defeat was determined solely by the two wolf gods who were almost identical except for their color.

Goldling was at a disadvantage.

It had fought the Corruptor in a dream before and even had its leg broken. Today's battle with the demon had also left it exhausted. The Black Wolf, on the other hand, was well-rested and ready. After the initial even match, the battle began to tilt in Lecanthos's favor.

It is the Loa, a supernatural spirit born of faith. The more people know about it and the more people believe in it, the more powerful it becomes.

Over the past ten thousand years, Lycanthos's hunting party has spread across the starry sky. Although most worlds it has visited have been wiped out, the Black Wolf God has long planned to leave behind some worlds that it is satisfied with. It is only waiting for its encounter with Diakum, the Lightwalker who can burn away the souls of demons, in Draenor. At that time, the Black Wolf God's plan will finally come to its final step.

It doesn't only have the War Tribe and the Gnolls as its two civilizations, but it has been hiding its strength, like an iceberg floating on the sea, allowing Goldrinn to only see the part above the water.

It worked.

Goldling misjudged its strength and was caught off guard by its own sudden outburst.

Wow, no wonder the powerful of those civilized races love to play the "pretend to be weak to eat the tiger" game. This tactic is so satisfying!
"Ow"

The vicious claws, wreathed in black, bloody wind, lunged forward, knocking Goldrin to the ground.

The black wolf's massive jaws were tearing at the white wolf's neck, attempting to deliver a fatal chokehold, but Goldrinn's frantic kicking left wounds on the black wolf's abdomen with its sharp claws.

The beasts' battles weren't particularly elaborate. Apart from a few individual wild gods, Goldrinn's group didn't particularly like using more "intelligent" fighting methods. The life force endowed them with sharp teeth and claws, which should be used reasonably. The Loa gods like Lycanthos, on the other hand, liked to play fancy tricks.

But today's Black Wolf has abandoned those evil ways and charges forward like a wild beast.

Beneath that desolate silver moon, it seemed to be holding its breath, wanting to prove something.

Its death choke was broken, and a large chunk of flesh was torn from Goldrinn's neck. Its beautiful silver mane was covered in blood, and blood was dripping from Lycanthos's waist and abdomen. But the black wolf stared at Goldrinn, chewing the torn flesh and putting it into its mouth.

It wasn't hungry.

This is nothing but provocation.

Goldrinn was not provoked. When it was still a wolf cub, it had been attacked by a ferocious black panther on the ancient continent of Azeroth. Its parents and hunting pack all died in that massacre.

Goldling was lucky enough to escape death, and since then, it has transformed into its current form through solitary battles.

Arrogant, cunning, fierce, cold-blooded, and wild.

It was almost the most perfect Wild God. It won the favor of Lady Freya with its strength and stepped into the realm of Wild Gods with the help of the Titan Guardian. Before that, the silver moon in the sky had already noticed it.

It is the deadliest hunter, adept at maintaining its own rhythm in battle. Moreover, it is facing Lycanthos, its dark side, which is as powerful as itself, or even more powerful.

During his millennia-long journey through Azeroth, Lykanthos fought every single day in the sea of ​​stars.

It is no longer its own weak shadow; the black wolf's fangs are now sharp enough. It has returned to this world to defeat its original form and to proclaim its "rebirth" with this victory.

"Look at how weak you are!"

Lekanth lunged forward, his claws sweeping across and forcing Goldrin back. The Black Wolf God, amidst the clash of minds, roared:

"You've changed, become timid and hesitant! Even your courage to fight to the death is fading. Where has the once invincible white wolf gone? Or is it that your 'master's' observation makes you want to show a hint of obedience?"

"Roar!"

As expected of the dark side, a single sentence struck a nerve with Goldrinn, causing its silver mane to bristle.

As they were forced back, Goldrin exerted force with both feet and slammed into the black wolf's waist. Both beasts rolled away simultaneously. This time, Goldrin rose even faster and opened his mouth to bite the black wolf's head.

Although he was kicked away in the next instant, Goldrinn tore off Lecanthos's fur when he landed.

Just like the provocation from the other party earlier, Goldrinn also chewed the black flesh into his mouth.

It was very hungry.

They desperately needed food to replenish their energy after a series of battles.

"Right, that is it!"

The Black Wolf God was also aroused to his ferocity.

It completely ignored the pain of being bleeding from its head and charged forward to bite and fight, seemingly abandoning all defense and fighting like a mad dog willing to risk its life for another.

The battle between the two colossal beasts caused the moonlight in the sky to change, as if even Elune, who was watching from the sidelines, could not bear to see the beasts die in their internal conflict.

The moonlight seemed to be persuading him. Just like in every silver moonlight before, the moonlight was urging Goldrinn to tame the wildness and beast within him, to truly embrace the nobility of life, rather than to be content with being a beast.

But the gentler the moon, the more violent Golding's reaction.

Its crimson eyes seemed to be ignited with flames, its ferocity was out of control, and its counterattacks were becoming increasingly frenzied.

It was getting hungrier and hungrier, and the black wolf in front of it smelled so sweet.

"boom"

The black wolf claws slammed down on Goldrinn's head like a heavy hammer, burying the white wolf in the mud, before its ferocious teeth gnawed at its neck.

This tackle was almost fatal.

Goldling could clearly hear the cracking sound coming from its neck as Lycanthos's teeth pierced its throat.

"Do you remember how I appeared, Goldling?"

The Black Wolf God prolonged the process of death, its sharp teeth inflicting more pain on Goldrinn, as if it were some kind of execution, some kind of punishment.

“It wasn’t Sachiel who tore me from your heart, White Wolf, it was your own soul that split apart! Your bestiality keeps you raging and makes you wild, but you’ve been in contact with the moonlight for too long. She has been trying to persuade you to tame the madness of the beast and move toward her self-righteous nobility!”
Your resolve has wavered.

Perhaps you are too lonely, Goldling.

You wanted to merge into the silver moon, and so, in a dream, I was born.

I'm not your dark side, you idiot.

I am you!

When you succumb to the weakness of indecision, a crueler version of yourself is born within that nightmare.

Lecanthos scoffed:
"Do you remember the battle between you and me on the night I was born? You drove me into the darkness, you thought I was a monster, so Sachil took me in and infused me with fel energy, giving me power."

However, you and I both know very well that even without that great demon, I would have grown just like you, and become just as strong as you.

The Black Wolf God raised its head and threw Goldrinn, whose neck had been mostly bitten off, to the ground, causing the silver wolf to fall miserably and roll several times before crashing into the edge of the Silver Moon.

It lay there, blood flowing, its eyes gazing at the sky as if only the moonlight remained.

“Sachil and Cenarius both want to tame me, just as Elune tried to tame you, weak Goldrinn, the turmoil in your heart has not yet dissipated.”

The blood-soaked black wolf god approached its prey, licking its teeth and savoring Goldrinn's blood, saying:

"They failed, but I am still me. I have not submitted to anyone. I have spent ten thousand years planning, growing, and breaking free, and finally I have come to you."

We faced the same problem, and I gave my answer.

Now it's your turn.

Tell me, do you have an owner, Goldling?

The white wolf was panting.

Its throat was broken, and it could only make strange noises, as if it only had one last breath left. The moonlight in its eyes grew even gentler, as if it could help it turn the tide if it called upon it.

Yes.

If you do as He says, tame the wildness and rage in your heart, cast aside the habits that helped you get to this point, and become a "noble" being in His eyes, just like Maroron.

Lecanthos's accusation is correct; he has indeed been wavering.

Especially after he bestowed his power upon the elves when he helped the Kaldorei resist the Satyrs nine thousand years ago, directly leading to the birth of the Scytheclaw Druids, he became increasingly conservative and timid.

He became increasingly reclusive, wandering only in the dense forests of the mountains, destroying all the shrines and refusing to let anyone near him.

Because I made a mistake.

Because Elune told herself that it had made a mistake.

But was the birth of the Scytheclaw Druid and the Werewolf really a mistake?

Is it only by abandoning one's wildness, acting according to the rules, smoothing out all one's rough edges, and transforming into a well-behaved child in the eyes of the moon goddess that one can be called "noble"?

Life is about freedom.

Shouldn't the individual decide how and where their life should go?

The moonlight overhead was like shackles, binding me with chains called "civilization" and using a different set of values ​​to constrain me.

But I didn't want to.

There's no particular reason; I just don't like it, so I'm unwilling.

Rather than staying on the shrines of the druids like other wild gods, he prefers to roam the hunting grounds of the world alone, free from the burdens of reputation, the constraints of faith, and the need for forgiveness and mercy.

Goldling's eyes darted around, looking at Lecanthos.

The world in its eyes was already blood red, just like the desolate night when it hid in the wolf den as a child and witnessed the hunting pack being slaughtered by the black panther.

What did I do in the end?

Hiding in the forest, he learned to lie in wait and endure countless wounds, advancing silently in every shadow, seizing every prey he targeted, and finally, when he was strong enough, he would seek out his enemies.

It was innocent and carefree back then.

Thinking about it carefully, I realized that my fight against the demons in the War of the Ancients wasn't because of the elves' pleas, but simply because the demons had entered my hunting grounds.
Why bother thinking so much?

Wild beasts should be pure, their anger should be unleashed, their ferocity should be wild, they should always seek revenge, and they should always defeat their enemies.

die?
Death is merely the end for wild beasts and a link in the chain of life. Every hunt a wild beast undertakes is a brush with death; it is simply its daily life.

It is through death that life gains meaning.

Lecanthos, with its overwhelming advantage, awaits its answer.

So it provided an answer.

A certain instinct that had not been used for a very long time, and was almost forgotten, was activated.

Under Lecanthos's delighted gaze, Goldrin jumped up in spasms, his bloodshot eyes devoid of any emotion, filled only with madness, hunger, and desire.

The Black Wolf God was very familiar with this power.

It had seen Diakum use such power before; it was the survival power bestowed by wild life, and also the deepest desire originating from the primal force of life.

That was the desire to survive, not for victory, but simply to live.

Goldling made his choice.

It activated its ancient madness, completely rejecting Elune's discipline, refusing to tame its wildness and ferocity, refusing to become a "noble being" in the eyes of others, refusing to become Elune's little white dog, and refusing to wear that collar that must be very beautiful.

It only wants to be a wolf that keeps hunting, fighting, and moving forward.

It chooses to be proud of being a beast; that's what it truly is!
"Then let us be each other's sustenance, but remember, when you become weak again, I will appear again in your every nightmare."

Let Elune and her moonlight die!

We are wolves!

The wolf, never yielding, never changing.

As Lekanthos retreated, the Black Wolf God's eyes also filled with the same blood-red color the moment Goldrin lunged forward; black and white clashed and attacked.

It was no longer a battle for victory, but rather a fight to be each other's sustenance.

The moonlight seemed to sigh with regret.

The admonition failed once again. This time, it came very close to success, but these wild creatures still chose to follow their own path, never able to follow the guidance of the moonlight like the elves.

But it doesn't really matter.

Every night in every world, the same moon shines upon all things. Life, once born, should continue to move forward, and the moonlight will guide their path.

One day, savagery will shed its ferocity; one day, the lone wolf will become noble.

Goldling.
See you next night.

(End of this chapter)