Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 388. 78. Losa, do you still remember the greenskins from under Mount Worshugu?
"Jaina was sent to Nagrand? And then Arthas rescued her? Is their ill-fated relationship really that terrible?"

Having exhausted his holy power to purify the divine constructs, Dick returned to the Temple of Karabor. The poor, drained 20,000-year-old Eredar had just lain down in bed when he heard firsthand intelligence from Anzu, the "veteran Draenor reporter."

Perhaps they were frightened by the massive manipulation of the Force at Mount Hyjal, or perhaps for other reasons.

In short, Anzu decided to slow down his fairly successful "harpy indoctrination work" in Azeroth and planned to take a vacation back to Draenor, fully displaying his lazy and unambitious nature.

But its message arrived just in time.

Dalene and Catherine are still waiting foolishly for their beloved daughter to return at the Temple of Karabor. For the sake of the early reunion of this family whose future development has been complicated by fate, Dick dragged his tired body to his feet again.

Wanting to fulfill his duty as a host, he decided to personally go and inform the guests of the news.

When they arrived, they found Dalene and Losa "wrestling".

Perhaps the two soldiers had a disagreement about some political topics, so after having a few drinks, they decided to resolve their conflict in a warrior's way.

They didn't use weapons, but the fight was quite intense. The back-and-forth boxing resembled a pub brawl, with a group of Draenei drunkards cheering them on.

Honestly, if it weren't for their special identities, they would have been arrested by the city guards of the Karabor Temple and taken to the Aldor Temple for holy punishment. Fighting without cause at the Karabor Temple is punishable by fifteen days of detention and a hefty fine, you damned aliens!
"Jaina is back."

Diakum felt utterly exhausted. He sternly dismissed the Draenei drunkards with his gaze, then leaned on Kazzak's Soul Staff and said:
"Due to some spatial parameter issues, your youngest daughter is currently with Prince Arthas. The two are resting on the orcish sacred mountain of Worshu'gu. It is said that a guardian of the mountain rescued her from being besieged by the White Ghosts."
stop fighting!
You won't kill anyone like this. How about we find a more spacious place? How about we fight in the storeroom? There are crystal brooms there that let you smash each other's heads like ogres. One of you is a king, the other a marshal. Let's be more dignified!
"This is utterly shameful, even to outer space."

"Swish"

Queen Catherine, who was enjoying watching her husbands fight while drinking nearby, suddenly appeared beside the emperor and said:

Where is Nagrand Grassland? How do I get there?

“I have arranged for an arcane mage to open a portal to the Elemental Throne for the three of you. Once you arrive in Galadar, Gaiaanzom will send a guide to take you to Worshug.”

The vigilant kindly reminded them:
"But for some 'special reason,' Jaina's appearance has changed a bit, but I don't think that's a bad thing. Go quickly, your daughter has been away from home for too long and is waiting for her parents to take her home."

"Did you hear that, Lothar? Stop bothering me with those damn politics. My daughter is waiting for me to take her home! Your or Terenas's ridiculous invitations are no longer important to my family."

Dailin cursed, and in his drunken stupor, he punched Lothar in the chest, knocking the marshal back several steps.

He then casually wiped the blood from under his nose, grabbed his sailor coat hanging on the chair, and the ocean compass tattoo on the admiral's shirt was indeed exaggerated, revealing the heroic spirit of a brave man who fights against the wind and waves.

Marshal Losa rubbed his bruised eyes, waved his hand, and said with great spirit:
“Then go and bring the girl back. I’ll wait for you here, Dale. You know very well that as the embodiment of the national will of Kul Tiras, you can’t escape these things.”

"No, Marshal, you'd better come along too."

Diakum said:
"The 'Mountain Guardian' who saved Jaina and Arthas has a rather special identity. He is an 'old friend' of yours, and considering the situation you are facing now, perhaps he can give you some useful advice."

After all, he has a lot to say on the matter of 'destroying humanity'.

"Ok?"

Lothar, who had just picked up his wine glass, turned around in surprise.

He didn't recall having any orc friends in Draenor, but soon, Lothar blinked and guessed who it was, then donned his trench coat and caught up with Daelin and her husband.

As a result, Dai Lin gave her another round of disdain.

This sailor king genuinely dislikes discussing politics, but as Lothar said, Kul Tiras cannot stand idly by as humanity undergoes transformation.

They must choose one side.

This was also Lothar's main purpose in coming to Draenor. He might not be able to persuade Daelin to join his side, but he had to explain the situation in Lordaeron to Daelin and prevent Kul Tiras from being tainted by the "Black Dragon Poison".

As he watched the three leave, Diakum let out a big yawn.

A deep, resonant voice emanated from the Soul-Conquering Staff in his hand:

“You have the power to make them obey you, but you let them get lost in the ridiculous tricks of politics. Before Lord Sargeras fell, He said that strength is the source of power!”
He also said that if powerful people do not hold power, then unqualified clowns will seize power.

You are derelict in your duty!

"Warner, since you know what is right, you should guide them yourself."

“Well said! That’s why Sargeras went to the fel energy and became the ‘Black Sun of the Twisting Nether,’ shining his power upon countless demons and guiding them to wreak havoc on the material world.”

Look at what 'power' has done to Sargeras, how can you bear to let me become such a 'victim'?"

Dick answered casually:
"Besides, why should I deprive others of the right to fight against their fate?"
I am just a Lightwalker, nothing more.

Your Holy Light forging is nearing completion. Are you ready to proclaim the might of the Dawn Overlords in a war of retribution?

"Ready at all the time!"

Kazzak let out a roar brimming with fighting spirit, which greatly pleased Diakum.

Just as he was about to return to the temple to rest for a while and continue purifying the divine constructs the next day, he heard Onyxia's roar coming from outside the Karabor Temple. He looked up and saw the ferocious dragon flapping its spiked wings and gliding down onto the city square.

The Black Dragon Princess was also carrying a box on her back.

When she arrived at the temple where Diakum was, the Watcher knew that the "treasure" ordered from Deathwing had arrived.

"bang"

Onyxia placed the heavy box on the ground, and, clad in spiked heavy armor, gestured for it to be placed there, saying:

"Try it out. Your Source Steel Armor is freshly made. I delivered it to you without stopping after completing the transaction in Booty Bay, so you wouldn't think I pocketed your deposit."

"I thought we'd have to wait a while longer. By the way, are the goblin masters under your father's command really that free? They have time to take on side jobs while serving Deathwing, and they're so efficient at it?"

Dick opened the equipment box, stroked the unique armor inside, and said:

"The quality is really good."

"Of course. Those guys may be greedy, but their skills are top-notch. After all, those who weren't skilled were all thrown to feed the baby dragons by my father."

The Black Dragon Princess snorted a few times and said smugly:

"But my father has been immersed in 'role-playing' games for years and hasn't appeared in his majestic dragon form for a long time. So his source steel armor doesn't need to be replaced. Those goblin masters are bored out of their minds in the forges of Deeprock Continent."

They'd love to take on some side jobs to satisfy their little craving for gold coins.

I told them, "This is a sample! If the customer is satisfied, there will be a steady stream of orders. That's why those master foundries put in 200% enthusiasm to forge this armor for you."
Honestly, when I saw the finished product, I couldn't help but want to keep it for myself.

But I can't afford to offend you, so I'll let it go.

Onyxia's words were not an exaggeration.

This was all because the armor in front of Diakum was indeed exquisite; it was more like a work of art than a war artifact.

It is not a simple plate armor in the conventional sense, but a combination of armor and faith robe. In addition to the sturdy plate armor molded in one piece, it also has a robe-like cover made of magical fabric made of special materials.

The overall color is a majestic black and gold. Due to Diakum's special request, the shoulder armor and belt of this battle armor also have "faith marks" for writing proverbs.

The most distinctive features of this armor set are the full-coverage helmet and black and gold hood, as well as the shoulder armor designed to resemble an open holy book, with a sword-shaped emblem sculpted within the holy book.

These unique designs give this armor a solemn, stern, and composed look befitting a believer, along with a sharp and authoritative presence unique to a "judge."

It belongs to the kind of "inquisition uniform" that, if worn out and walked around the street, could scare at least ten heretics to death.

"Does it have a name?"

Onyxia watched as Diakum consecrated the armor. Golden cherubs landed on the armor's mark of faith, using holy light as their pens to write holy words of wisdom for the Vigilant.

In response to Onyxia's question, Diakum said:

"'Trial'! That's what it's called."

This is armor specially made for the Draenei—no, for the Eredar Inquisition. Only the most steadfast, purest, and most selfless Lightwalkers are qualified to wear it on the battlefield to protect the people and fight against darkness and evil.

The judges I personally lead will become legends in the starry sea!

Just like the Hand of Argus 25,000 years ago, but now, we fight for greater righteousness and the well-being of all beings.

I'll give you a list in a bit, Onyxia. Keep your father's goblin masters busy. If all they want is gold, my partner, the richest prince in the Sun Sands, will certainly provide it.

It's said that the profits from the Titan devices received in Uldaman have increased its assets by more than ten percent.

He reached out and stroked the armor, its equipment attributes floating and unfolding before his eyes: [Armor Name: Lightforged Judgment [Judgment Court Armor]]

Armor Quality: Force Legendary Item (Quality will be upgraded again after full consecration)

Armor Traits: Source Material Forging, Never Wears Out, Force Affinity, Faith Blessing

Armor effects:

The item is crafted from pure source steel from the Deep Rock Continent, the most durable mineral that can be found in the Matter Star Sea. After being forged by the Goblin Smelting Master, the item will be completely immune to weapon damage of quality below "Artifact".

hint!

Attacks imbued with a large amount of Force can still damage the armor, but it can be repaired using Source Steel.

The item was forged using the same techniques as Deathwing's Source Armor, meaning it can be enhanced by being infused with the Force. This enhancement requires long-term Force nurturing and allows the armor to significantly amplify the wearer's Force power.

hint!

The goblin masters adopted the most classic design concept for battle skirts, ensuring that the armor would not hinder mounted combat.

Blacksmiths: Deathwing's Goblin Servants
Item Description:

Source steel, what a treasure! I spent a lot of effort getting my hands on this stuff back then, but it's just the strongest mineral in the material world. How can a paladin as ambitious as you be satisfied with just this?

Let me tell you quietly.

Each of the six Force Realms has excellent materials that can be used to make true artifacts, such as Luna Steel, Abyssal Steel, Titan Iron, and so on. However, those things are hard to come by, so for now, we'll just have to make do.

Also, a 'guest' awaits you in the Void Shadows of the Temple of Karabor; don't keep him waiting too long.

】

"thanks for reminding."

Diakum stood up, put the armor into the Augure chest, then closed his eyes and sensed it. Sure enough, a "distinguished guest" was waiting in the city's illusory reflection.

The mysterious dual-world traveler has arrived; I can't keep him waiting too long.

------

"It is said that the ancestral land of the Warsong Clan is in this grassland. I often wonder what kind of beastmen like Grom Hellscream eat to grow up? Does a Grom every day make the Warsong Clan strong?"

Lothar, riding his two-headed dragon towards Mount Worshu, gazed at the Nagrand plains under the night sky and couldn't help but mutter a complaint.

Yolin Deadeye, who was leading the way, curled his lip, too lazy to answer the question.

If eating Gronn flesh could make an orc as powerful as Grom Hellscream, do you believe that the Gronn of Draenor would have been eaten to extinction eight hundred years ago?

Grom was a "top-tier killer," and there was only one like him in the history of the orcs.

It may not be the last of its kind, but it is certainly unprecedented.

"That's the sacred mountain!"

A few minutes later, Jorin pointed to the colossal gem-like mountain gleaming under the moonlight and called out to the three human guests:

“I’m in a hurry to go back to the Nataan jungle to gouge out my eyes for the ceremony, so I won’t go with you. There’s a mountain guardian’s hut at the foot of the holy mountain, it’s very conspicuous, you can just stay there.”

"Thanks, bro with self-harm tendencies."

Dale replied, then pulled the two-headed dragon down and flew away. Queen Catherine rode alongside him and was now peering down, trying to find her beloved daughter.

Losa followed him down.

As soon as the three landed, they were surrounded by several black wolves that were kept near the mountain guardian's hut. These black wolves all had the tattoo of Lecanthos on their bodies, and it was clear that they were not animals that could be born naturally.

"Dad, Mom!"

Jaina, who was resting in the cabin, heard the noise outside. She rubbed her eyes, pushed open the door, and excitedly rushed towards Daelin and Katherine as soon as she saw them.

The bewildered parents looked at their daughter who had grown to sixteen years old "overnight" and thought they were seeing things. Dalyn was still rubbing her eyes when Catherine, who didn't care about anything else, stepped forward and hugged her daughter.

The mother and daughter cried uncontrollably.

Arthas, who was standing nearby, sighed repeatedly at the sight. He thought of his father, who was far away in Lordaeron, and was about to shed tears when he saw a two-headed dragon appear in the sky behind him, and his sister was rushing over angrily.

"Fuck!"

The little prince sighed, realizing he couldn't escape a beating today.

But Lothar patted his head, indicating that he didn't need to be nervous, and whispered:

“You saved the princess of Kul Tiras, which is a manly act and not a bad thing for Lordaeron’s diplomacy. Your sister is angry because she is worried about your safety, but she will definitely praise you.”

"really?"

Arthas looked at Lothar with surprise.

The marshal curled his lip and said:

"Of course it's fake! You silly child, running around playing in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, a beating is the least we can do! This is Draenor, not the safe palace of Lordaeron. If you get eaten by wolves, how are we supposed to explain it to your father?"

After saying that, he ignored Arthas's gloomy face, took a few steps forward, knocked on the door of the mountain guardian's hut, and then pushed the door open to take a look.

This small house is decorated quite cozy.

There was a human-style fireplace burning, a wicker chaise lounge with a cozy fur blanket, a hunting crossbow hanging on the wall, and below it a blackstone-style orc warhammer.

The hunted rabbits were skinned and dried, and a one-armed orc was busy making soup at a chopping board in the corner, seemingly preparing a midnight snack for two lost little guests.

You know what, the cooking was pretty good; the broth was so delicious that it made Losa's throat tighten.

Damn it, Daelin has been drinking non-stop since he arrived in Draenor. I had a match with him and barely ate anything. I also spent most of the night in the wind on the grasslands, so I'm starving now.

"If you're hungry, just sit there, and it'll be ready in no time."

The one-armed orc said without turning his head:

"I've put out five rabbits and most of a split-hoof beef rib, enough to feed ten big eaters. Have the guests outside clear the table; it's my treat tonight."

"Oh? Why are you treating us?"

Lothar leaned against the doorway, pulling out his dwarven pipe as he spoke:

"There has to be a reason, right? It's very dangerous to eat food given by strangers. Do you think I'm a three-year-old?"

"reason?"

The orc thought for a moment, stirring the fragrant broth, sprinkling in some wild pepper, adding half a block of draenei cheese for flavor, and after stirring with the long-handled spoon, tasting the broth with a small spoon before chuckling and saying:

"Consider it as gratitude for the mercy of some noble human who spared my life. Oh, my name is now 'Gaurosh,' so don't call me by the wrong name later, lest it cause unnecessary trouble."

"Yes, Orgrim Doomhammer."

Lothar lowered his head, lit a cigarette, and tossed a packet of dwarven tobacco to the orc who turned back to glare at him.

The two men, who had fought to the death on Mount Hyjal, stared at each other in this otherworldly mountain guardian's hut. The scars on Lothar's face and the sword wound that almost pierced half of Orgrim's face, as well as his lost arm and somewhat lame leg, were all souvenirs of that battle.

Strange to say.

Even though less than fifteen days had passed since that battle, both of them felt as if they had been separated by a lifetime, as if they had killed each other more than once.

But upon closer examination, aside from the deep-seated grudges that made them want to strangle each other, the two didn't actually have many "personal conflicts."

"Fine, call me whatever you like."

The mountain keeper turned around, took out a stack of earthenware bowls, added meat broth into them, and said:

"Since things have come to this, let's eat first."

"These days, hardly anyone knows how to make this flavorful broth anymore. You're in luck today, Anduin Lothar. I'll put extra 'secret seasoning' in your bowl later, enough to kill you, you bastard."

(End of this chapter)