Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 47 2. Holy Light, He is a living saint. We are saved! [Updated 5/50]

(Additional update for the "Frostfang Claw" brothers [5/10])
Diakum was confused when he got up from the coffin.

He had been trapped between life and death for who knew how long. There was no concept of time in that damn place. He could only kill time by fighting continuously, fighting continuously, and fighting in different ways, trying not to become an incurable Eredar autistic patient. His only job every day besides meditation was to check if there was any breakthrough in his combat skills. It was exactly the same as the state of logging in every day during the version gap to boredly brush achievements.

After all, there's nothing else to do.

In fact, Dick had been accustomed to this "simple life" for a long time, and he was caught off guard when he was suddenly called to "get up". Fortunately, he never had a bad temper when getting up, otherwise he would have been unable to control the burst of holy light.

As for why he was suddenly awakened.
It's some kind of liquid!
It was like dripping wine flowing into Dick's lips. It had a hint of bitterness in its fishy sweetness, and pain flowing in its warmth. The familiar taste suddenly woke Dick, who was immersed in "virtual reality".

This is blood.

Eredar blood!

He had smelled this scent countless times on the battlefield of Argus, and he could be sure that this was pure blood that was not contaminated by fel energy, and it came from a young and energetic Eredar.

Blood would drip onto Dick's lips, which meant that a young compatriot was injured beside him!

this means
That child is in danger!

With just a start, Dick opened his eyes "naturally" under some impulse, and saw a battle axe whistling down, and in front of him was an Eredar girl who was seriously injured and pierced by a spear and was about to die.

"boom"

Dick reached out and caught the falling axe blade.

Countless battles between life and death ensured that his nerve reactions and battlefield intuition had not deteriorated after sleeping for more than 20,000 years. Instead, they were stronger and more powerful than before he fell into a coma. The legendary fighting skills made this dunk accurate and fast.

With ease, you will be the first to arrive.

The moment his fingers gripped the axe blade, the holy light that he had practiced countless times surged up and burst out like his arm, spreading and spreading along the direction of his hand. After a single breath, the cold and solid metal axe blade melted, allowing his fingers to dig into it like pinching sand.

The body, which had been lying there for who knows how long, felt a little awkward, and the movement of getting up was very slow and even sluggish, just like the pilot Oki suddenly entered a new machine. Even a genius needs an adaptation process.

But the good news is, he adapted quickly!
Just as the orc threw away his battle axe and drew the sword from his waist to stab at him, Dick had almost regained his previous state. Looking at the shining sharp blade stabbing at him, he just stretched out his hand and chanted a character, and a shining power shield enveloped himself and the injured girl's body.

A thin layer of holy light turned into a defense that seemed to be defeated with one blow, but the orc with a ferocious face was unable to pierce this shimmering eggshell-like shield. Instead, he was knocked down by a heavy punch from Diakum's clenched fist.

The ferocious attacker was quite tough and fell down without a sound. Judging from the strange posture he fell to the ground, his sternum must have been broken and his heart was pierced.

Diakum ignored his own victory. He supported the weak Eredar girl and let her lean against his "coffin". He stretched out his left hand to press the wound on her waist and abdomen, and held the spear that pierced her body with his right hand.

With the force of his fingers, the wooden handle of the spear broke with a sound, then turned and pierced in the saint's hand, accurately inserting into the eye socket of the orc under his feet, mercifully ending the other party's destined long-lasting pain.

"Hold on! It's going to hurt a little."

As he spoke, his left hand continued to heal the poor girl, and his right hand steadily pulled out the barbed blade from the wound on her back. The wound, which should have been damaged by this, did not worsen, but instead quickly stopped bleeding under the treatment personally applied by the saint.

Of course, under normal circumstances, such a brutal treatment without anesthesia is no less painful than being bitten by a kidney, and it would definitely kill a well-trained Eredar warrior with pain.

But how sophisticated is Dick?

Before providing treatment, the priest's signature skill, "Pain Suppression," was applied to the girl. The temporarily paralyzed nerves and the surge of adrenaline were enough to ensure that the poor child's pain was weakened to a bearable level in a short period of time.

"Don't move! You need to rest."

He spoke gently, as a pastor would to his patients.

The "Ancient Eredar" with a hint of Krokuun accent made Yrel at a loss for how to respond for a moment. Of course, this might also be because she was trembling with fear after witnessing the awakening of the "Vigilant" after more than 20,000 years.

To put it simply, I was scared.

But this is completely understandable. If a lucky tourist saw the First Emperor staggering out of the mausoleum and asking what year it was in the familiar "Guanzhong elegant dialect", even the most courageous person would be stunned for a moment.

But in the next moment, Irel's eyes widened, and he pointed behind Dick and screamed:
"Saint, be careful!"

Two orcs rushed over with weapons in hand, roaring and swearing to chop the Draenei garrison commander in tattered armor to death right here.

Dick stood up and dodged the first axe's blow, kicked the opponent when he exerted too much force and lost his balance, and reached out to grab the second orc's wrist amid the sharp sound of bones breaking, and the crisp sound of wrist bones shattering came out when his five fingers exerted force.

The moment he pulled the opponent hard and made him crash into him, he hit him with his head like a ram hitting a rock.

"boom"

The orc's head suddenly exploded like a watermelon.

Red and white flew towards him, sprinkling on the surface of Dick's Word of Truth Shield, which had never been broken, making him feel nauseous.

He casually discarded the corpse, moved his wrists, shoulders, and tail forward, and assumed the starting stance of the "Jedni Ancient Fist," as if he was using a battle "rehabilitation" to get his body back to its peak faster.

The heavy hooves wrapped in holy light stepped on this foreign land, feeling the gravity and environment here that were completely different from Argus.

He felt lost and a little irritable.

Although he already knew it, Diakum still felt the ups and downs of emotions because he could not wake up in his hometown. Perhaps it was because he had been fighting an endless battle between life and death, which made him urgently want to "smash" something to vent his anger.

The orcs in front of him were all dumbfounded.

They had also seen powerful legendary chiefs defeat their opponents as easily as slaughtering chickens and sheep, but they had never seen such exaggerated power that could blow the head of a powerful orc warrior with just a headbutt.

The most important thing is, would this kind of fighting technique, which is too brutal even for orcs, really appear on the weak-tempered Draenei?

Seeing that the ferocious orcs did not attack, Dick snorted through his nose and strode forward impatiently. He did not think there were any innocent people among these guys. If he had not woken up in time, the poor child would have died in their hands.

You dare to try to murder an eredar civilian in front of the Garrison Brigadier General?
So brave!
The orc behind is holding the head of a garrison officer in his hand?
good good!
This Eredar is really going backwards as he gets older!
It was fine that we were beheaded when fighting demons in the past, but now even orcs who haven't drunk demon blood can ride on our heads and do indecent things, right?

Velen! Hatun! How on earth are you leading our people? Is all I did over 20,000 years ago only to receive the tragedy that will unfold in history? Wouldn't the sacrifices of Malderan and so many other warriors in the decisive battle have been in vain?

"The Holy Light grants me the slaughter of this day! Evildoers, come forward and die!"

The unarmed Brigadier General had no weapons, but he didn't need any. He raised his hands and roared, calling on holy light to bring down a heavy punishment.

During the long training, the priest's basic skills were also played out in many ways. The warhammer that was supposed to be smashed down was replaced by a golden execution blade, which slashed down with the majesty of the sword of justice, sweeping the whole field with a powerful momentum.

The orc, who had no time to dodge, was pierced by the sharp holy light from the top of his head and was instantly torn into pieces by the light-forged blade. His body fell smoothly to the front and back, and blood burst out like a torn bag.

A waterfall of halo followed, and the legendary skill [Holy Nova] replaced Dick's halo, which hit the first orc and exploded immediately. The burning holy flame ignited the opponent, and when Dick approached, several orcs were already running away screaming like "Captain Flamehead".

But if he lets these guys get away, his last name will be written backwards!

He raised his foot and hooked it lightly, and the orc's spear jumped into his hand. The brigadier general threw it casually and pierced the one that the lieutenant general ran the farthest. The huge force pushed the orc into the air with his hands dancing, and after flying at least ten meters, he was nailed to a tree.

Battle axes, spears or hunting sticks, with the blessing of the personal talent [Mastery of All Martial Arts] accumulated through long-term combat, can all be transformed into killing hands. In less than ten seconds, the surrounding orcs were dealt with, and the swift slaughter soon startled the newly tamed two-headed dragon.

Leader-level beasts feel extreme fear and can always detect threats more easily.

The pale-skinned beast flapped its huge wings and took off amid the howling of its two heads, but as it was taking off, Dick below threw a serrated hunting spear at it. A dazzling meteor flew into the air and pierced the dragon's wings from bottom to top, causing it to fall to the ground with a scream.

It knew it was fighting for its life!
As Diak'um charged forward in a horn-to-horn charge, it raised its two heads and breathed wild arcane magic at the awakened "Ancient Eredar Savage". As the leader of all the two-headed dragons in Shadowmoon Valley, it was nicknamed "Breath of the Moon" and was famous in the wilderness for its ability to manipulate dangerous arcane magic.

The saint was instantly engulfed by the arcane torrent, but then a flash of holy light allowed him to move forward against the destructive surge.

The release of holy light and heat made him clasp the pterosaur's mouth with his burning hands and pull it up and down. The power of his bulging muscles was released a few seconds later with a creepy muffled sound, destroying one of the beast's heads.

The other head was about to bite, but Dick dodged and rushed forward, grabbing the slender neck.

Then, under Irel's stunned gaze and amid the terrified wails of the two-headed wyvern, the saint wrapped in holy light was like the most brutal warrior, and his tough scales were torn apart as he roared with force, his fingers clenched.

Blood and flesh splattered, and bones were broken.

He used the posture of "pulling a weeping willow" to tear the second head of the two-headed flying dragon off its neck.

Two-headed dragons are ferocious beasts in the world of Draenor. They are also called "Chimera (two-headed or multi-headed monsters)" by Draenei scholars. Their heads are half a person's height. Ordinary Draenei warriors are not big enough to support them to accomplish this feat, but Dick's body size is huge. In his mortal state, he is over two meters and six. At this time, the promotion of his life level and the miraculous "racial transformation" have made his physique exceed three meters, becoming an "Eredar Giant" like Archimonde.

He stretched his body and turned around, holding up the ferocious head against the backdrop of the huge corpse of the wyvern.

The irritable emotions had been released by the battle, and the holy light burning around his body also subsided at this moment. A strange milky white holy flame burst out from his right hand, instantly burning the flesh and blood on the head of the two-legged dragon, leaving only a beast skull that could be called a work of art.

The saint walked back through the dead forest with the "trophies" and gave a gentle smile to Iriel who was helping the holy coffin to stand up.

He has always been peaceful in his dealings with his fellow men.

But the giant's smile made Irel's hair stand on end for a moment. The massacre that swept across her like a storm had left her with a huge mental shock.

The brave and combat-capable Draenei vindicators are capable of defeating orcs in a one-on-one fight, but even elite vindicators need time to fight these orc warriors, and it is quite rare for them to kill instantly like the Sentinels.

At this moment, the young girl truly understood the value of the word "saint".

In fact, the new generation who have not experienced the fall of Argus generally regard the Argus War described by the elders as a "myth". After all, the fact that a garrison army easily defeated and slaughtered tens of thousands of demons should only happen in myths.

This is too exaggerated!
It is definitely an outrageous rumor made up by the old men to boast about their ancestors' great martial arts achievements.

However, after witnessing the saint's fighting style with his own eyes, Irel suddenly felt that the legend that the thousand-year-old veterans of the Hand of Argus could break the formation single-handedly did not seem so outrageous.

You want ordinary demons to fight against an army composed of such ancient Eredar?

However, when she saw Dick smiling at her with the gentleness of an elder, Yrel shuddered. She finally realized what kind of existence she was facing. She immediately stood up, endured the pain, and called out loudly with the etiquette of a garrison officer recruit:
"Welcome! Great Vigilant, Oathkeeper, Glorious Golden Throne, Supreme Commander of the Hand of Argus, Savior of the Eredar, Protector of the Draenei."

"Stop, stop, stop!" Dick watched the girl in front of him read out a long list of titles like a menu. He was overwhelmed and waved his hands and said:

"When did I get so many random titles? Is this really describing a garrison commander? Why do I feel like you're describing the Holy Light itself? Don't be nervous, kid. I prefer civilians to call me 'Brigadier General.'

Or you can just call me by my first name, Diakme.

Wait a moment, I need to capture a prisoner for interrogation."

He motioned for Irel to stand aside, then rushed into the nearby woods. With a few roars and subsequent screams, and after a fleeting burst of holy flames, the powerful saint quickly came back carrying a severely burned and screaming orc leader as if carrying a chicken.

He threw the guy to the ground and stared down at him.

Although it was called an interrogation, Diakum actually didn't need the orc to answer those boring questions.

He stared at the black tattoo on the orc's shoulder, and after a moment's thought, he scolded him in his not-so-fluent orc language:

"You! Are you the scum of the Shadow Council?"

"what?"

The orc was stunned. He didn't expect that this guy could speak their language.

But this is not right!
When I received the order, didn't I say that the Draenei saint in this coffin had been dead for over 20,000 years? Even if he could be resurrected, he couldn't have learned Orcish 20,000 years ago, right?

"Answer quickly! The Saint is asking you a question!"

Seeing the orc so stupid, Iriel next to her grabbed the broken spear that pierced her and scolded her.

She really hated these crazy bastards.

Of course, this was also the first time she heard the name "Shadow Council".

"You won't tell me, right? Good, I like tough guys! Especially in war."

Dick put his hand on the orc's arm and said:
"May you be more resilient than the Man'ari cultists of the Awakener Cult."

"what!"

At this moment, a tragic wail resounded throughout the eternal night forest. The milky white holy flame passed from Dick's hand to the orc's arm, almost instantly burning his skin and spreading over his flesh and blood.

It was clearly a hot and holy object, but at this moment it was being used as a torture instrument.

"The Holy Flame heals the good and punishes the evil, but my light is more distinct in its love and hate. Therefore, I will tell you, orc, this flame will not only punish your body, but also burn your soul!"

The Vigilant whispered:

"In order to fight against the vicious demons, I forged my holy light into its present form. This is not intended for you. But if you continue to be stubborn, I don't mind treating you as an incorrigible demon!
Say!
Who sent you?
Where is your leader Gul'dan?"

"Ah! Stop burning it, I say!"

The scum who could join the Shadow Council naturally couldn't be very courageous. In the pain of the burning Holy Light, the orc wailed:

"It's Teron'gor! The High Warlock gave us orders to ambush the Vigilant's Casket here! He knows it's an ancient sacred object of the Draenei and a place of faith for those dangerous veterans of the Hand of Argus!
By desecrating the holy coffin, Teron'gor hopes to completely destroy the last hope of peace between the Draenei and the Orcs, causing the war between the two races to break out completely!
Ah!
Don’t burn it!
I don't know where Gul'dan is, I only know that he must be in Shadowmoon Valley, and he has prepared a large army to attack your Temple of Karabor!"

Dick nodded, noted the information, and asked:

"So, who secretly informed you of the Holy Coffin's transportation route and departure time? If you say there was no insider assistance in such a precise ambush, even I, an old man over 20,000 years old, wouldn't believe you."

"I have no idea!"

The orc, enduring the burning of the holy light, wailed:

"Ancestors, I really don't know! Teron'gor was in charge of communicating with your people. I can only tell you that a Draenei did betray you, but I don't know who it was.

Oh my god.

Please, give me a quick death."

He watched with his own eyes as the milky white holy flame burned away his arms, leaving only pale bones, and continued to burn along his torso. This damn flame also had some kind of healing ability, locking his vitality to ensure that he would not be burned to death, but would make him suffer the complete pain of being burned to death.

This is simply the most horrific execution in the world.

He's had enough!

He had never seen such "evil" Holy Light being used by the Draenei.

Now I no longer ask for survival, I just want to die quickly.

"puff"

The bloody broken spear pierced the orc's throat. The latter finally felt the coming of death. Before he died, he even looked at the gasping Irel in front of him with gratitude.

Guilt flashed in his eyes, as if he was sorry for the pain he and his group had caused Yrel before.

Compared to your saint who is more sorcerous than a sorcerer and more devilish than a devil, little girl, you are really a good person!

"This orc leader holds a lot of useful information, child. I haven't finished asking him yet."

Dick watched the orc die with regret.

Although he still had ways such as using holy healing to bring this guy back from the brink of death so that he could continue interrogating him, but looking at the expression on Iriel's face next to him, he knew that his behavior had scared this little girl who was born in a peaceful era.

"Never mind, knowing this much is enough."

Dick waved his hand and was not going to argue with Irel about this. He would never hold civilians to the same standards as a soldier. But he heard the sounds of fighting outside the woods, so he stood up and rummaged through his "holy coffin", hoping that Velen and the others would bury him with some useful weapons when they "buried" him.

Even a ceremonial hammer or sword would be fine.

But a few seconds later, Dick, wearing his own "shroud" as a makeshift garment, looked back at Yrel with a bewildered look on his face, holding two broken staffs. He said in a questioning tone:
"I remember this thing was broken by demons during our final battle to escape Argus, but haven't you ever considered repairing it in all these years? Why did you put the broken weapon in my coffin in its original state?

Is this some strange tradition of yours?"

"Uh, that's your 'relic,' Sentinel. How dare we do anything with a relic from the Argus era?"

Irel had privately executed the prisoner and was worried about whether this would anger the Saint. After hearing Dick's question, she quickly replied:
"And it's not that we don't want to repair it. I heard that your battle staff contains the brutal soul of a great demon. It's said that thousands of years ago, when our ancestors were in danger on a certain planet, a brave arcanist secretly took this holy relic in the critical moment.

He released the powerful force of 'Kazzak's Grudge' to kill the evil demons that besieged his people and saved hundreds of people, but he himself was sacrificed due to the backlash of the power.

Since then, the priests of Aldor have asked us not to touch this holy relic at will. They all say that this evil weapon with demonic power can only be suppressed by keeping it by your side. "

"Well, that's true. This thing does indeed seal a trace of Kazak's soul."

Dick said with a pained look on his face:
"But can someone die just by using it? Can something as weak as Kazzak's spirit kill my compatriots? No way! I don't think the Doomsday Overlord's true form is that strong. I even killed it twice."

"You are a saint. How can ordinary people like us compare to you?"

Yrel didn't know how to respond to this overly Versailles statement.

However, she had realized that although this saint was extremely cruel to his enemies, he was very gentle to his compatriots. He was not arrogant at all and could even joke. This made Iriel quickly put aside her worries.

She picked up the orc's fallen battle axe from the ground and said to the saint:

"Over there! The Holy Coffin Guardians are being besieged on the Pilgrim's Way! Saint, er, Brigadier General! Should we go rescue them?"

"Of course! The life of every compatriot is a precious currency on Argus and must be used wisely to obtain the greatest value, child."

Dick clutched the broken spear in both hands. He led Yrel toward the battlefield, where shouts and cries of killing had been clamoring all day. He asked:

"You are very brave. Although I still don't know what happened before I woke up, the fact that you were able to fight against so many orcs guarding my holy coffin alone has proven your determination. I am really very happy.

I am comforted that my compatriots, after a long exile, have not lost our courage to stand among the stars.

What is your name, child?"

"Yrel! My name is Yrel, Brigadier General! I come from the village of Anboli. We are all your believers and protectors."

The young girl was very happy to be praised by the saint, and this happiness was pure and without any unnecessary complicated emotions. However, after hearing her name, Dick's expression became strange.

He sighed at the tricks of fate and the unexpected twists and turns, then looked at the shrewd young woman and complained in his heart:

"Very well, Yrel, 'Archbishop'. You owe me two favors. One for saving you, and the other for saving you from being taken to Kargath's arena. This is a small display of my power as the 'Hand of Fate.'"

"I appoint you as my temporary lieutenant, child. Now hold your weapon! Be ready to follow me into battle."

Dick said, and Irel looked at the Sage blankly.

The Brigadier General saw several garrison officers being besieged by orcs up ahead. He ignited the incomparably strong Holy Light within him and said to the young girl following him:

"The enemy is harming our people, new soldier Yrel!
Every brave Eredar should take up arms and fight them to the end! Although you are just a new soldier, I can see at a glance that you have outstanding fighting talent. For the sake of our people and the future, you must use it properly!
just now!

Follow me and prepare to charge!"

"But Brigadier General, there are a lot of people on the other side, more than a hundred people, should we..."

"Follow orders! Follow me closely, and charge!"

(End of this chapter)