Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 521, Section 60: Royal Power Is Not Eternal, My Father

"boom"

Lothar launched a flying kick that struck Terenas's tattered breastplate. This powerful "Spartan kick" sent the Dragon King sprawling backward, but he still gripped his elven sword tightly. As he struggled to his feet, he parried Lothar's furious flying slash with precise parry.

The clash of weapons caused both exhausted men to stagger.

Their condition was visibly poor. Not to mention Terenas's black dragon armor, even Lothar's Lion's Roar armor, which was protected by constant holy light and could elevate his strength to the brink of demigodhood, had dimmed again.

This is clearly not an effect that can be achieved through a simple, intense battle. Although it involves serious matters such as the future of human civilization and the succession to the throne, neither Lothar nor Terenas is individually strong enough to "destroy the world."

Their current predicament is due to damage from an "unknown holy light AOE".

To be precise, the entire throne room, which served as the battlefield, was destroyed earlier, caused by the energy released when Diakum gathered "Anser's Sun Fist" to attack Deathwing in his black hole form.

Lothar didn't know where the others had been swept away by the scorching energy storm, but he knew he had to win this battle.

The Vigilant are fighting for the future of humanity. The terrifying pressure they endure is evident even from the burst of energy aftershocks. If this is the battlefield of the gods, then humanity should also fulfill its duty at this time.

"You've lost, Terenas!"

Stromka the Destroyer brought down his execution with immense force, shattering the shield the Dragon King had picked up and tearing through his broken armor. The Dragon King's chin was jolted upwards by the powerful punches that were enveloped in holy light.

As the shattered tooth flew out, the booming sound of the Holy Shock brought a second, devastating blow.

Terenas tumbled out in a sorry state.

He desperately flapped his dragon wings, trying to land steadily, but eventually stumbled and tumbled, plunging his Salamani longsword into the ground and tearing a crack several meters long before finally managing to stop amidst a cloud of dust.

He tilted his head back, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and saw Lothar, gleaming with golden light, about to rush up and execute him.

But that spectacular burst of holy light just now has brought trouble to the marshal.

Darkness in the city
The eerie activation of that darkness might represent the anger and discontent of some great power, or perhaps it's a "signal to start a war."

As Terenas watched in astonishment, the Dark Animation coalesced into Void Essence, like a nightmare erupting in the material world. It howled and emerged in the Vigilant's dwelling place, beginning a frenzied siege of all life outside the shadows.

Lothar was entangled by four Void Essences, making it difficult for him to break free and charge forward.

This unexpected turn of events brought a laugh to the Dragon King, who was on the verge of despair. He rose, leaning on his sword, folded his tattered wings, and roared at Lothar:
"I may have lost, but I did not lose to you or your morality, Anduin Lothar! You mocked me for being Deathwing's dog, but what about you?"

Taking advantage of Diakum's shining light, you do whatever you want, even converting yourself to the Holy Light. What right do you have to laugh at me?

"Ha, just rot here."

Terenas staggered, dragging his sword, and turned to walk into the ruins behind him, saying without turning his head:
"Andorhal, Hearthglen, Alterac... I still have 100,000 dragonborn at my command! The fall of Lordaeron does not signify your victory. I will continue to fight until you and your Holy Light are extinguished."

"Terenas!!!"

Lothar's roar, mingled with the wailing of the Void Essence, echoed across the battlefield as he cried out:

"Stop starting another war! Stop making more people pay the price for your ambitions! Damn it, come back!"

The Dragon King turned a deaf ear.

He quickened his pace in the boiling darkness, leaning against the wall as he hurried deeper into the ruins, hoping to use the eerie, boiling darkness to find a way to escape the capital city of Lordaeron.

This is probably the last chance.

As he said, he would reunite the loyal Dragonborn and continue the fight in Andorhal and Alterac, igniting a war of resistance in every city and village.

Perhaps he cannot defeat Lothar's army on his own, but darkness has already declared that Diakum and his people of light will be overwhelmed by the dark tide.

At that time, Lothar will lose his greatest asset.

When darkness engulfs the Eastern Kingdom, its own dynasty will stand firm in the age when the sun is extinguished, until all things perish. Even without light, people can still live!
He strengthened his resolve to resist, determined not to allow Lothar to shatter his kingly beliefs.

Even in that boiling darkness, he could feel a unique sense of security and warmth.

The darkness, like a hand, soothed his anxiety and the fear of defeat, encouraging him to be strong and to continue fighting.

He was initially wary of the void essences that kept pouring out of the darkness, but he soon discovered that these dark things would not harm him. In fact, they would hold off the endless stream of pursuers and give him a chance to escape.

Terenas was relieved.

He ignored the shouts and roars echoing from the ruins and used the regenerative abilities of the dragon bloodline to speed up his pace. He should have just left the now-ruined palace and blended into the outer city where the war was still raging.

But as he passed a collapsed palace, Terenas was drawn to something in the ruins.

His throne
When the throne room was destroyed by the aftershocks of "Anser's Sun Fist," the throne was not destroyed but was blown away and crashed to the edge of the palace, where it now exists in a pitiful state amidst the broken pieces.

It no longer possessed its former luxury and nobility; even the armrests were broken, covered in dust and desolate, symbolizing that the royal power of Lordaeron had fallen into the dust and was no longer glorious.

It is just as desolate as King Terenas is now.

Terenas knew he had to leave, but he stared intently at the throne. After a moment's hesitation, he strode into the ruins, flapping his wings to kick up dust, and reached out to stroke the throne that symbolized the king.

He took over the power from his father, a chair that has been passed down through generations of the Menethil family.

It has long transcended the symbolism of a chair; yet, for over two thousand years, it has been meticulously maintained and has never fallen to this state.

But is it the chair's fault?

It is just a chair; it cannot jump up and slap rebels when they step into the throne room. It is the incompetence of the person sitting in the chair that has caused this noble symbol to fall to its current state.

It's my own incompetence!
Terenas stared intently at the dilapidated throne before him.

He coughed violently a few times and then heard battle cries coming from outside the ruins. He knew he had to leave, so he stood up, took off his tattered cloak, and covered the broken throne with it.

When he returns, he will surely restore it to its former glory and majesty.

The Dragon King made up his mind.

He convinced himself, picked up the divine sword, turned around, and froze on the spot.

Behind him, in the flickering darkness at the entrance to the ruins, stood his eldest son.

Arthas clearly fought a hard battle to get here.

His black eagle armor was covered with sword and blade marks, as well as the scorching from magic and dragon fire attacks. Even his black wolf fur cloak was tattered and torn.

He held the dark blue warhammer in his hand.

The Menethil family's heirloom, which he took to Quel'Thalas, was shattered by Lothar, but was restored to its former glory during the Sun King's restoration and reforging.

The pulsating holy runes, like dancing beams of light, surrounded the power of Menethil, and were grasped by Arthas's hands, blocking the exit of the ruined palace like gatekeepers.

There was no light here, only a faint glow that made Arthas's shadow blend into the boiling darkness around him.

"Father."

The surroundings became quiet; the battle cries and roars seemed to have faded away. In the ruined palace, where only the father and son remained, Arthas said in a hoarse voice:

"Stop it."

"Rebel!"

Terenas felt an inexplicable surge of anger rising within him, not only because Arthas was wearing the insignia of the Seventh Legion and blocking his breakout as his enemy.

Furthermore, he felt as if his son had been "taken away".

This person, who should have been his blood relative, now stands in opposition to him on all levels—alliance, morality, and ideology. This should have been his son, who should have inherited his kingly will, and who should have inherited Lordaeron's hegemony and established a dynasty.

But now, he's on the side of his enemy!
Am I really your father?
Or is Anduin Lothar your father?
The Dragon King gripped his elven sword tightly, and strode menacingly toward Arthas, shouting:
"So you're blocking my way here? Are you planning to offer me to Lothar in exchange for your righteous reputation? Or is it that my son is going to cut off his father's head to proclaim the establishment of Lothar's dynasty?"
What kind of deranged madman would make such a choice?

Look what the Holy Light has done to you!

"boom"

The sword slashed down, and the warhammer swung in response.

Amidst the deafening roar of the Holy Light, Terenas's intimidation failed, and his rebuke and questioning seemed to ignite a fire within Arthas's heart.

The young prince charged forward, wielding his warhammer.

He roared:

"Was it the Holy Light that led me down this path, or did you personally push me here? All you care about is your ambition and your power! Have you ever considered me and Galiya?"
In Quel'Thalas! In that place that broke our hearts, we begged you, we pleaded with you to return, but how did you answer us?
Who's the real lunatic here?!

The fall of Deathwing rendered King Terenas, whose power was linked to his, no longer as formidable as before. He had now returned to the state befitting a dragonborn, and had also fought a great battle with Lothar.

This time, Arthas's outburst forced him to retreat repeatedly, but the closer he got to the broken throne behind him, the more ferocious Terenas's counterattack became.

His eyes were bloodshot, as if he were "protecting" something, preventing the pulsating holy light before him from destroying the supreme thing in his heart.

He even unleashed a burst of Shadowflame dragonfire with a deep breath, but Arthas neither dodged nor evaded, instead raising Divine Shield and continuing his attack while enduring the dragon's breath.

The young prince also harbored anger.

He witnessed far too many calamities along the way: the devastation of Quel'Thalas, the misery of Stratholme, and the current desolation of Lordaeron.

His own father declared that he would establish a great dynasty.

But under his rule, those tragic events continued to occur one after another.

He summoned a black dragon and, under the influence of the Void Witch, gathered all sorts of monsters and demons in his court, even forcing an extremely loyal subject like Osmar Garithos to rely on the enemy's power to purify the corruption within the country.

He used the Dragonborn as the Hand of the King, ruling his country with brutal dark power.

He had been told since childhood that a king should rule the kingdom with wisdom, and that arousing courage in the hearts of the people was the king's most important privilege. But did he really do that?

He was no longer the Terenas Menethil he once was, no longer the wise king who had led Lordaeron into a golden age and made it the strongest kingdom among men.

His monarchy brought no good; it had to end.

"boom"

The radiant power of Menethil struck the elven sword wielded by the Dragon King. The reforged weapon withstood the blow from the divine artifact, yet only suffered a single scratch.

This fully demonstrates that after Kael'thas became the Sun King, the "quality control" of the magical weapons he personally crafted was greatly improved.

Using the disarming technique of the garrison commander, Arthas swung his hand forward and smashed it into his father's sword-wielding hand. The burst of holy light caused the elven sword to fly out with a hiss and plunge into the ground with a whoosh.

But Arthas himself was grabbed and lifted by King Terenas with his magical dragon claws, and then carried high into the air by the flapping of the dragon's wings before being slammed to the ground by a "meteor impact".

"boom"

The power of Menethil also flew out of his hand, and after several heavy blows, Arthas's helmet rolled to the side.

The Dragon King pinned down his son; he even choked him.

In that instant, the dark rage within him surged, roaring for Menethil to complete the "beastly act of patricide." Just as the last thread in his mind was about to snap, at that moment when the darkness of the ruined palace was boiling and howling, light!
A sudden light appears!

The holy light that erupted above Lordaeron City was like a burning sun, causing the radiance of the corona to surge outwards in concentric circles around the main body.

Wherever the light reached, the essence shaped by the boiling darkness was covered and incinerated.

The dark creatures roared in the blinding light, trying to escape but being captured by it, and then crushed into ashes under the torment of the sun.

The Dragon King also raised his claws to cover his eyes.

The light shining through the cracks in the ruined palace made him feel pain all over his body, and hot white smoke rose from the scales on his body.

More importantly, the light seemed to penetrate straight into people's hearts.

The darkness that had been stirring up anger and emotions also collapsed with a shriek, bringing Terenas to his senses in that moment. He realized he truly wanted to strangle his own son.
Do not!
This is not something a person should do.

Arthas caught his breath as he was about to suffocate. Tears streamed down his face as he roared and unleashed the fist technique taught to him by his mentor, Velen. His powerful punch slammed into Terenas's chin, followed by a burst of Holy Slash that sent Terenas flying.

He smashed his throne, which he cherished dearly.

As he swayed to his feet, he saw that his son had already drawn the elven sword that had been "blessed" by the Void Herald.

Dark power erupted from it, threatening to drag Arthas into a state of depravity, but just as the prince was about to be raised high to bathe in the radiance, it screamed and vanished into dark minions.

Arthas, carrying the purified Salamaine, staggered toward his father, who was slumped on the throne.

He is crying.

Tears streamed down his face, bringing his pain to its peak at that moment.

But faced with his father's ferocious leap and the dragon's claws that still resisted, the prince could only lower his head and, as the dragon king's claws slammed into his shoulder armor, let the sharp elven sword pierce forward.

"puff"

Fresh blood burst forth.

Terenas's attack stopped.

He looked down at the long sword that his son had plunged into his body.

He was a dragonborn, blessed by the Void. Even when Garona stabbed Kingslayer into his heart, she couldn't kill him. Arthas's sword was wreathed in holy light, but that wasn't enough to annihilate a dragonborn warrior who had drunk the blood of Deathwing.

But at this moment, the Dragon King seemed to have lost all his power.

Something inside him was shattered.

He staggered and fell onto the throne, dragging Arthas down to his knees as well. The father and son stood there in a strange and awkward pose, the prince with his head bowed, tears streaming down his face.

After a moment, the Dragon King sighed and said:
"To have driven a child to this extent, I really am a terrible father."

Arthas looked up at Terenas and was surprised to find that his father's eyes had regained their former light, even if it was just a sliver.

He was about to get up and treat the patient, but Terenas stopped him.

The Dragon King gripped Arthas's sword-wielding wrist, forcing his hand down so that the elven holy sword would slowly plunge into his own body. He said:
"I will only fail when I want to die, that is Lord Davar's promise of victory, but I don't seem to need it anymore."

I think I had a dream.

A nightmare about power, emperors, and dark dynasties.

I'm lost in it, son.

He leaned back on the blood-stained throne with a relaxed posture, and with trembling hands, removed his golden thorn crown, placing it in his hand and letting the blood drip down the crown to the ground.

他 说:

“I failed to control my ambition, letting it break free of its cage and wreak havoc. I taught you that a king should not do such a thing. I destroyed Lordaeron; I had intended to protect it.”

"But you also taught me that no kingship lasts forever, my father."

Arthas sobbed, and said:
"I'm sorry, I can't save you."

"If I've done something wrong, why should I be saved?"

He laughed, as if welcoming liberation.

Bathed in the scorching sunlight emanating from the ruined palace, his body shrouded in darkness, in that final farewell, he said:

“I’m sorry, son, I’ve entrusted you with the heavy responsibility of this land but I can’t give you power. But perhaps the justice you desire can be achieved without the constraints of royal power. I’m sure I’ve disappointed you and Galia, but I will no longer torment you.”

His burning, fiery fingers touched Arthas's face, gently wiping away his son's tears. He said:
"Children, fly, spread your wings and soar high! How I long to see you one more time, but before me lies only darkness."

"clang"

The blood-stained crown and the sword used to kill one's father both crashed to the ground, kicking up dust.

Amid Arthas's uncontrollable sobs, his father, surrounded by holy light, turned into falling ashes, scattering across the broken and blood-stained throne.

Outside the ruined palace, the white soldier clenched his fist and slammed it against the wall.

He rushed as fast as he could, but he was still a step too late.

This job should have been done by him.

He knew that Arthas would never be happy again for the rest of his life.

You evil spirits of darkness, look what you've done!

I'm going to stick with you guys for the rest of my life, and I'll never let this tragedy happen again.

(End of this chapter)