Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 504, Section 43. Hillsbrad, your loyal Colonel Blackmore is back! - Bonus Chapter [610]

(Bonus chapter for "SaSaXD" brother [6/10])
"So, are you really a prophet? You don't seem like it."

Yrel stood beside her Lightforged Dragon companion, hands on her hips, scrutinizing the little boy in front of her who had been dressed in different clothes and was carrying a large bag.

Nat Parker looks only seven or eight years old, but he is actually ten years old. He is just a little thin because of malnutrition.

However, the little guy's eyes were very peculiar. Although they didn't have the exaggerated depth of the Prophet Velen's eyes, which seemed to encompass the starry sea at a glance, the slightly cloudy eyes in front of him were definitely not those of a ten-year-old child.

In response to Irelia's teasing, Nat Pag pursed his lips and muttered:
"How strange, the 'corpses' that should be lying in the arena are talking."

"Hey, don't be so mean! Don't think I can't understand the dialect of northern Xinjiang."

Yrel raised his fist and knocked the guy on the head, then lifted Nat up and tossed him onto his Forged Dragon saddle, while also placing various items on the dragon's back.

Irelia was quite accepting of Nat's statement that she deserved to die in the arena.

She's not a fool.

She had seen those illusions of her past fate more than once or twice. Even if she was stupid, she should know that her fate had indeed been changed. What surprised her was that this little guy was quite capable.

So when the three-headed Lightforged Dragon carried his great-uncle, Noboundo, and Jaina and Prince Drake, whom they were escorting, into flight, Yrel, who was escorting the young prophet, couldn't help but ask:
When did you awaken 'Prophet's Vision'?

"I don't know, maybe it was during one of my fishing trips?"

Nat Pagle was riding a dragon for the first time, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. Clinging to the saddle, he kept looking down. When Yrel asked him a question, he whispered:

"It must have been the day I caught my first 'big fish,' when I was five years old. It was my birthday, and my grandmother, who had always taken care of me, wanted to eat fish soup, so I went fishing in the rain."

That day I caught a really amazing big fish, a super big one!
But I got sick from being caught in the rain, and I had a dream that my old lady would get sick. I didn't take it seriously, but a month later, my old lady really did get sick, just like in my dream.

"I knew then that I might be different from other people."

This child, who had experienced the hardships of life far too early, sighed like an adult and said:
"When the old woman died, she held my hand and told me that I must never let anyone know about my dream."

I followed her instructions and learned to be a fisherman in South Sea Town. I knew where the big fish were, and I could even dream about when I could catch one, but I didn't dare to fish too much. I only took the risk when I needed money.

But then the plague came, and I saw many people dying. All I could tell them was to stay in the church and hide in the light, but they didn't believe me.

Then, the demon came again.

Ugh.
Just like you said, so what if I'm a prophet?
"The prophet can't save others, I can't even save myself! I got separated from the refugees, and if it weren't for a dragonborn saving me, I would have died at the hands of the naga."

He paused, glanced at Irelia, and whispered:

"Are you going to kill all the Dragonborn?"

Please don't do that. They are not bad people. The reason so many people in Southsea Town are alive is because they drove away the demon.

They simply couldn't control their anger; it wasn't their fault, but rather the evil black dragon that had bewitched them.

I've seen it in my dreams!
That black dragon is terrifying. It flies out from beneath the world with burning wings, tearing the entire world apart, even shattering the dwarves' dams, even though I've never been there.

"Can you see the Watchers?"

Irele blinked and said:
"If you can see me, then you must be able to see Commander Diakum, right?"

Nat Pag shook his head vigorously.

他 说:

"Some dragonborn have heard that I can predict the future, so they asked me to help them find the Vigilant, but I can't do that. I can't see anything related to the Vigilant."

he.
He was not part of fate; he was an 'outsider.'

"We Eredars are all outsiders."

Irele said:

"We come from the sea of ​​stars."

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean... never mind, I can't really explain the feeling myself."

Nat Pag rubbed his head and said:
“But I can definitely see the ‘handprints’ on your bodies.”

"Hmm? What handprint?"

Irelia looked at her armor; it had just been wiped clean, so there were no handprints.
"It's a glowing handprint!"

Nat's eyes lit up, and he said to Irele:
"Many people have these handprints on their bodies, as if someone gave you a push at some point, helping you get over the traps that were originally in your destiny."

You have the most handprints on your body!

That person helped you more than once. Yes, those werewolves had it, the powerful White Soldier had it, and the warriors under Marshal Lothar all had such handprints, like marks of converged holy light. Only I could see them.
My God, I can't imagine how many people he has helped, and how he did it.
If I were as powerful as him, perhaps so many people wouldn't have died in South Sea Town.

Will I be able to see him this time?

"Of course, we're going to send you over to see the Watchers."

Irelia grinned, and after flying for a few minutes, the little hoof suddenly had a brain fart and asked in a low voice:

"Can you help me with my 'marriage'? I asked the prophet Velen to help me before, but the prophet said that the power to see fate cannot be used for such things. However, I just want to know who I will spend my life with in the future. This is quite important to us Eredar people."

So, since I'm taking you dragon riding, how about you help me this once?

"what?"

Little Nate was a little embarrassed.

He hesitated for a moment before answering, but ultimately pointed discreetly to his great-uncle in front of him and whispered to Irele:
"That person, he saved you. He saved you with his own life in a fate that would never happen, but after he died, you changed, you became terrible."

You sing praises to the Holy Light, but there is a hole in your heart, an emptiness that can never be filled.

The louder you chant, the more extreme your mind becomes.

Ultimately, tormented by that emptiness, you became a 'Demon of the Holy Light,' doing what even demons couldn't: you filled the world with holy light, but not to illuminate, but to destroy.

"Oh, I knew it."

Irelia sighed sadly and said:
"I knew that my constant thoughts about casting things were abnormal, now I understand. But you keep saying you can only see fates that are no longer going to happen, which means the original fate has already changed, right?"

So, which is better, this new fate or the original one?

This question made Little Nat turn around and look at Irelia in astonishment, his eyes looking at her as if she were a complete idiot.

After confirming that Irene wasn't joking, the ten-year-old said wearily:

"You've already survived, why are you asking such a stupid question? I just said that so many people have the mark of holy light on them. Guess what would have happened to them if they didn't have that mark?"

They will all die.
Some people may even encounter things more terrible than death.

Those were my recurring nightmares, and I used to resist falling asleep because I didn't want to dream about them. But now I know I won't dream of bad luck anymore.

Irele also realized that she had asked a stupid question.

She felt a little embarrassed, so she didn't speak for the rest of the journey. The Lightforged Dragons flew very fast, and the straight-line distance from Southshore to the Gilneas Peninsula was not far. Several hours later, they arrived at the Gilneas coast.

As he gazed at Gilneas, the light in Little Nat's eyes grew even brighter. He even stood up on the dragon's back, gripping the spikes of the Lightforged Dragon and looking ahead.

"What did you see? Why are you so happy?"

Irele asked a question.

"sun!"

Nat muttered to himself:

"A golden sun is shining here! Can't you see it?"

The golden light was dispelling the darkness that shrouded the land. The light surged and surged, like a thousand armies conquering the land of Gilneas. Every minute and every second, the hidden darkness was ignited with screams.

And angels are singing for the sun.

The darkness trembled.

They were afraid of him!

They are running away, they are cursing him!
not good
Shadows are gathering, they are terrified, and they want to extinguish the sun. The Vigilant is in danger, he cannot go any further, there is a black hole in the capital of Lordaeron! It will devour his light.

"Ah, I've seen so many new destinies, so many!" Little Nat screamed, clutching his eyes and fainting, where he was held tightly in Irelia's arms.

Little Hoof's heart was pounding. She had heard the "little prophet's" prediction. Although it might not be accurate, the Vigilant was in danger, and the danger was in the capital city of Lordaeron.

We can't let him go there!

We need to call the twin archbishops and archbishop Nelly over quickly; only they can stop Commander Diakum.

------

"Ah, Hillsbrad Foothills, I, Blackmore, have returned!"

With a roar of catharsis, Colonel Blackmore, standing atop a steam tank, finally expressed his many feelings, recalling his dejected departure from this place years ago, and looking at himself now leading a large army back to his homeland.

A feeling of "wearing fine clothes in the dark" welled up in the werewolf colonel's heart.

Indeed, Colonel Blackmore was so eager to advance that after the Battle of the Western Wilds, he went to the shrine of Goldrinn, embraced the werewolf blessing, and joined the Bloodfang pack.

Relying on the werewolf's formidable fighting prowess and tactical acumen, it repeatedly distinguished itself in the Battle of Redridge Mountains.

The Stonewall Brigade he led fought across almost the entire southern part of the continent, and in the recent battles to recapture Menethil Harbor and Stromgarde, he took the lead and was finally awarded the colonel's insignia by Marshal Lothar yesterday.

The marshal also made generous promises!
As long as he can distinguish himself in the great battle of Hillsbrad Foothills, he will surely be eligible for the position of brigadier general.

Sure enough, making the right choice is more important than hard work. If I had stayed in the Kingdom of Lordaeron, how could I have risen to my current position like a rocket in just over half a year?

Even at the height of his career, his father was only a brigadier general in charge of logistics. How could he compare to a general like himself who led troops?
However, he is ultimately an ambitious commander who will not dwell on past glories. While a grand cause is certainly worth looking forward to, only by doing his own job well can he be qualified to grasp the future.

Therefore, once the Stonewall Brigade had set out as the vanguard into Hillsbrad Foothills and established a camp at the foot of one of the hills, Blackmore immediately began to engage in the subsequent battle simulations.

As the vanguard, it already knew that Nanhai Town had been captured, which meant that it had to find a sufficiently strong base for the Seventh Army Corps before the Marshal's army arrived, preferably one that was both offensive and defensive and also had certain strategic significance.

After much deliberation, the werewolf colonel finally decided on his target:
"Tunhold Castle, this is it!"

It pointed its sharp claws at the battle map and said to its commanders:
"This castle is separated from Tarren Mill, a major military stronghold of the Lordaerons, by a river. Its terrain is perfect for controlling the mountain road leading to Eagle's Nest. If we take it, the Marshal's army can advance to conquer Tarren Mill or retreat to the territory of the Wildhammer Dwarves to rest and regroup."

With this castle captured, the Wildhammer dwarf gryphon riders will have no more worries and can fully assist us in continuing our northward advance.

"But Colonel, Dunholde Castle is notoriously easy to defend and difficult to attack."

The dwarf officer in charge of a dozen or so dwarf steam tanks scratched his head and said:

"That castle was the local defense hub before, forming a triangular defense with Southshore and Tarren Mill. The castle did not fall when the demons attacked, and the dragonborn even reinforced it."

With the firepower we have, it will be difficult to take it down in a short time.

"So we need to use some 'strategy'."

Blackmore scratched his furry chin with his paw and said:
“I’m a local, so I know that the legendary Ravenholdt Manor is actually in the mountains near Durnholde Castle. Those assassins have been playing both sides between us and Lordaeron, their stance is wavering, but their hidden strength here is terrifying.”

With Ravenholdt's help, taking Durnholde Castle would be a piece of cake.

We need to find a way to establish contact with them.

The marshal only gave us five days. We need to achieve something, otherwise we'll just be watching others get promoted with envy.

"Do any of our scouts have connections with Ravenholdt?"

"I'll ask."

A human hunter captain said:

"But I advise you not to have too much confidence. Even among thieves, there are different levels. The Ravenholdt Assassin Guild is undoubtedly the 'black aristocracy' among thieves, and they may not look down on us."

"Ha, they may look down on us, but they must realize the current trend!"

Colonel Blackmore was very confident about this.

It waved its paws and said:
"Even we common soldiers know that the Marshal's advantage is growing. Southsea Town has been captured, and the recapture of Hillsbrad Foothills will take place this month."

Assassins can certainly play both sides, but when it comes to choosing sides, they can't afford to be so accommodating.

They have missed the best time to surrender!
The longer they drag this out, the less profit they'll make. Believe me, master assassins are shrewd; they'll take the right steps.”

"Colonel! This letter was left in our logistics tent; it's addressed to you."

A cook rushed into the tent, waving a letter. The werewolf colonel stepped forward, took it, opened it, and immediately a "I knew it" expression appeared on his ferocious wolf face.

He handed the letter to the other commanders, grinning as he said:
"The assassins are getting anxious. What did I tell you? Their indecisiveness has caused them trouble! King Terenas is also worried that Ravenholdt will side with us, so he has already taken action. Their manor has been occupied by the Dragonborn."

The renowned 'Duke' Ravenholdt has been reduced to a homeless dog.

The letter sounded grandiose, but in reality, they had fallen to the point where they needed to ask me, a mere colonel, for help.

Haha, brothers, you must recognize the general trend. No matter how strong your personal abilities are, if you stand on the wrong side of history, you will still be crushed.

The fate of these assassins is the best example.

"But could this be a trap?"

The human hunter captain whispered:

"If the other side has surrendered to the Dragonborn, this is a typical feigned surrender tactic. They say they can help us open the gates of Durnholde Castle, but if we rush in and they close the gates, won't we be wiped out?"
"Our own deaths are a small matter, but if we ruin Marshal Lothar's important plans, that would be a real problem."

"So, I'll take some men with me!"

Colonel Blackmore narrowed his eyes, like a hungry wolf poised to pounce, and said to the others in the tent:
"Set up positions outside the city. If I fail to come out, launch a full-scale attack! If I successfully take control of the city gates, then organize an attack with tanks and heavy artillery."

"No way! How can you let the commander personally lead the charge?"

The others immediately shook their heads.

Thinking to himself, Colonel Blackmore, your "ambition" is too strong. You've already reached this status and position, you really shouldn't be risking your life. But Colonel Blackmore has his own determination and plans.

It grinned and said:

"When I was just a junior sergeant, I met a strange little boy in Southsea Town. He caught a big fish but was almost dragged into the water."

I saved him, and he said he would repay me.

A few days later, the boy ran to me and said that one day I would definitely become a majestic general at Durnholde Castle! At the time, I thought it was just a silly child's wishful thinking, but now I don't think so anymore.

Blackmore bared its teeth, glared, slapped the military map, and shouted:
"Tunhold Castle is my 'lucky place,' and I will surely win here, but I will not keep this glory to myself; the entire Stonewall Brigade will share in this victory."

What is a general?
Being a general is just the beginning!

The empire has a vast territory, spanning more than a dozen provinces from south to north. Marshal Lothar will inevitably appoint several marshals to oversee military affairs in various regions. My ambitions are not great; I would be content to serve as an honorary marshal within the empire's borders, even if it's just in a border region.

I'll become a marshal, and you'll all be generals!
With a bright future ahead of us, what future are we talking about if we still value our lives at this point?
We're going to do something big, brothers, listen to me!

Let the warriors rest well today, prepare for tomorrow, and attack the city tomorrow night! Capture Durnholde Castle and light up everyone's future!

This fellow was a master of incitement; he spoke until everyone in the tent was breathing heavily, and even the dwarfs were standing on chairs, waving their fists.

The morale of the troops was high, which greatly pleased Colonel Werewolf.

But despite its rough exterior, it was shrewd enough to decide to go and meet Ravenholdt's messenger at the agreed-upon location first.

Several hours later, Blackmore met the envoy of the League of Assassins in a hilly, dense forest. Without any preamble, the envoy came up, agreed on a time, and then gave him information about the troop deployment at Durnholde Castle, including even the location of the commander.

But after the deal was done, the assassin reminded him:
"Taking the castle isn't the end; it's just the beginning. We've received accurate information that the Kingdom of Lordaeron will be making a big move in a few days. We don't know the specifics, but our informants have only warned us to 'be careful of the Dream.'"

"Ok?"

The werewolf colonel's eyes widened, and he asked:

"What does this mean? Does it mean I can't even sleep?"

"Don't sleep too soundly at night, and it's best not to dream."

The assassin opposite said in a cold tone:
"The information that informant sent was infrequent, but it wasn't wrong, so you'd better be careful and not end up with the terrible result of taking the castle only to be wiped out in your dreams."

"Although it doesn't sound like a compliment, I still appreciate the reminder."

(End of this chapter)