Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 660, Section 28: Even beneath the extinguished flames, embers still burned.
"A god has fallen! How honorable it is that we have witnessed the defeat of a true god of the universe on the shattered lands of Draenor."

The orc swordsman Lantriso stood on the edge of the Talador coast, leaning on his battle sword.

He was surrounded by the remains of slain demons and void monsters, and the silent Haver Olsen sword saints walked the battlefield, finishing off the fallen but not yet dead monsters.

This is Lantresor's own "Righteous Blade" clan. Currently, there are very few of them, but they are all of Draenei and Orcish descent, just like him. They combine the advantages of both races, thus possessing extraordinary talent and potential.

Although the Blademasters had won the battle and reclaimed their clan stronghold on the coast of Talador, none of them could be happy at this moment.

Not only did they witness the battle between the two gods in Gorgrond, which caused the plain to collapse into an "underwater mountain range," but the entire world was also dragged into the terrifying "Darkest Night."

The sun of the galaxy where Draenor is located has disappeared, and the lack of light source has plunged the entire Draenor into darkness.

The endless darkness alone is bad enough, but the most important thing is that without the sun's light and heat, the temperature of the entire world is dropping rapidly. In fact, the Nagrand plains are now covered with frost, and the grass and trees are frozen solid. A visible mass extinction is about to begin.

The good news is that because the Argus Restoration Army has gathered here, there are currently many Naaru in this world.

They are located in the two cities and some towns of the Eredar. When the darkest night arrives, the Naaru selflessly transform themselves into the light source in the darkness, using their light and heat to protect the cities and towns.

The city of Shattrath has sent messengers to urge the orcs of Nagrand to migrate to Shattrath immediately, otherwise the deadly cold wave will freeze them to death in an instant once it sweeps across the world.

Ogres are better.

When the cunning and wise Lord Margok saw the Vigilantes grab the sun as a weapon, he invoked the Covenant of K'ure and personally escorted the two Naaru to Highmaul for rescue.

The Naaru also wanted to save the orcs, but the orcs' nomadic lifestyle was a real problem at this moment.

The orcs do not have their own major cities, which means that the naaru cannot find a place for them to stay, forcing them to migrate to Shattrath City.

Fortunately, the orcs all had war wolves, which were extremely fast, otherwise they would have truly faced annihilation in this darkest night.

Lantresor gazed at the shattered lands of Gorgrond in the distance under the cover of night, then turned back to look behind him. He saw Gaiara riding a war wolf, raising his battle banner high, with the entire Warsong Clan and Galadar Clan migrating behind them.

To be honest, choosing to break out and migrate while we're fighting a ground war against the demons is definitely not a good decision, but we have no choice; if we don't leave now, we won't be able to leave at all.

The only good news is that the sudden return of the "exiled" during this war has given the Mag'har orcs time to migrate and relocate.

"High Warlord" Kargath Bladefist rudely declared that the Mag'har orcs should get lost and stop interfering with their merrily rampaging with demons and void creatures on this frozen plains.

Although the words are crude, it is actually the Greenskins who took on the responsibility of covering the rear for the Mag'har tribe.

Everyone just kept it to themselves.

After all, the expulsion of the Greenskins from Draenor was a decision made by the entire Covenant of K'ure. They can come back to help, but they cannot stay for long.

"Let's go."

Lantresor waved to his swordsmen, and an apprentice handed him a sheepskin coat. The swordsman intended to refuse firmly, but a gust of bone-chilling wind mixed with ice shards blew over, making him shiver.

Cursing the damned cold night, he put on thick clothes, mounted his dire wolf, and charged out of the clan camp, which had only been built a few months ago.

A young half-orc, carrying two swords, sadly hung his turban at the entrance of his den, following orc tradition, hoping to return home someday.

Lantresor sighed and did not stop his people from saying goodbye.

Because of their identity issues, these Haver Olsens have had a hard time finding a place that truly accepts them. Now, the appearance of the Righteous Blade Clan has given them a real "home," but this damned war is forcing them to leave.

"The battle between Lord Argus and the Fallen Norgannon caused the volcano in Frostfire Ridge to erupt, shattering half of the entire Frostfire Ridge. Fortunately, the Frostwolf Clan had made preparations in advance."

After reuniting with Gayala, Lantresor heard the great prophet of Magh'han whisper to him:

“My parents brought their people across the sea and are now taking refuge in Highmaul. There are two Naaru looking after them, so they won’t freeze to death. However, the elementals are warning us. They are roaring wildly in my head.”

Gaia rubbed her temples and said painfully:
"The current drop in temperature is just the beginning. By dawn tomorrow at the latest, the temperature throughout Draenor will drop to a point where mortals can no longer survive. Except for the lands illuminated by the Naaru's light, all other places will be completely frozen."

The elemental lords even showed me a vision of a future world covered by an entire layer of thick ice, where we would all be frozen within the ice that enveloped the world.

The Naru also pay a price for fighting against such cold nights.

Their light and heat cannot last forever; in a few months at most, the Naaru will be extinguished, and they will be frozen in this dead world.

Lantres remained silent for a few seconds, then said:

"The Eredar will definitely leave. Will they take us with them?"

“They’d be happy to do that, at least Velen won’t just stand by and watch us die here. They’re willing to take us with them, but to be honest, we don’t even need the Eredar’s help to leave.”

Gaiara said in a hoarse voice:

“I just met with Warlord Varok, who brought with him orders from Warchief Eitrigg, saying that the five worlds currently owned by the Greenskins, including the Shattered Hand Abyss, will welcome us with open arms.”

Those worlds were grassland worlds discovered by the Black Wolf God's hunting party in the sea of ​​stars. They all had vast grasslands very similar to Nagrand, and each world was large enough to accommodate the migration of the Mag'har tribe.

“Those worlds are great, but their only problem is that they are not Draenor!”

Xiaohou's voice rang out from behind.

Despite the biting cold of the night, this guy was still dressed in simple warrior attire. However, considering that he was a Lightforged and had a heart full of rage, the biting cold of the night was nothing more than a bit of frost to him.

Even without the protection of the Naaru, Garrosh would probably be the last orc to freeze to death in Draenor.

If his rage could burn forever, this guy could even continue to roam this dead world, waging an endless war against any scoundrel who dares to step into it.

He rode his lightforged warg and said in a stiff tone:

"We will not leave Draenor! No matter what this world becomes, the Mag'har will stay here to accompany our homeland to its final moments. Besides, has the arrival of the Darkest Night made you lose hope?"

Your fearful eyes disgust me!
You have far too little faith in your own world.

Xiao roared and cursed:
"A fallen Titan died here, killed by the combined forces of our world and the Eredar's lord, but Draenor's revenge has only just begun! We have only just embarked on the path to glory, and the so-called 'Eternal Night's Frost is nothing more than a small pressure to temper the minds of warriors."

"I think you're really crazy. Is this a problem that can be solved by a warrior's will?"

Gaiara cursed:
"Open your eyes and look! Even the most fanatical warriors of your Warsong Clan are shivering with cold right now. Not all orcs have a 'heart of rage' like you."

"Then let's use light casting!"

Little Roar roared even louder:
"Everyone should receive the enhancement of the Holy Light. The High Heavens now stand atop the clouds, and the heat from the Holy Flame is enough to keep us alive! As long as the fire in our hearts remains, even the coldest frost cannot kill the orc warriors!"

We must survive!
Even if it means resorting to any means necessary, we will lead our world down this path of revenge.

"Stop arguing, it's not time for that yet."

Lentresor reluctantly separated the two bickering but actually good-natured young men, and he said loudly:
"First, take your people to Shattrath City. Under the protection of the Naaru's light and heat, in that sanctuary of holy light, all the chieftains and overseers must discuss and decide on a plan. Whether they accept the Lightforged or follow the Eredar and escape this world..."

This is the future fate of all orcs, and it cannot be decided by the two of you at will.

What are you arguing about?

As the three argued and advanced against the increasingly biting wind, Chieftain Samuro of the Fireblade emerged from the eerie wind. This swordsman, clad in a wolf-skin cloak to keep warm, loudly proclaimed:

"Head to Shattrath quickly. The Eredar have prepared a landing pod to take us to the Temple of Karabor. Lord Argus has returned. Archbishop Saloras says He has brought us a 'Shard of the Sun'."

That thing can temporarily act as the sun. Don't worry.

This eternal night of cold will not kill us, nor will it kill our world.

Just as Elder Drek'Thar prophesied, the journey on Draenor has only just begun, and the Mag'har orcs will eventually have their place on this stage of the stars.

"Where are the vigilant?"

Xiao Hou pressed on, asking:
"Has he not returned?"

"The Vigilant."

Samuro hesitated for a moment, then said in a low voice:
“Archbishop Nelly forbade others to discuss this matter, but I heard Archbishop Yura say in private that the departure of the Vigilant was not a defeat or death, but merely the final step on the long stairway to godhood.”

When he returns to the stars, we may then use the name 'He' to describe that noble saint.

"Hmph, that's only right."

Gayala also breathed a sigh of relief.

The young prophet tightened her bearskin coat, breathed on it, and said:
"If there are gods in this sea of ​​stars, they must be in the form of Saint Diakum. Only a god like him is worthy of our worship and following."

Let's go, speed up!

Before we freeze to death by this damned frost, let's get to that sanctuary in the light.

Look, it's snowing.

She looked up. In this eerie darkness, snow mixed with hail drifted in the cold wind, and when she turned around, the once bustling Nagrand plains had become deathly silent.

The demons had begun their retreat at some point.

Perhaps even they cannot accept continuing to fight in such a dying world.

Those void creatures are indifferent to the severe cold; they may build their void nests beneath the frozen grasslands, spreading filth throughout the world and weaving a canopy of shadows in this eternally dark night.

But it doesn't really matter.

The orcs carried torches as they marched forward in the cold night wind; wherever their flames reached, all darkness had nowhere to hide.

Just as the saint Diakum once said, even the most turbulent shadows can be dispelled by a single ray of light.

Night has fallen, but can dawn be far behind?
------

"He's gone, he's embarked on his own journey. What a magnificent war! Ah, holy war, holy war under the blazing sun and the towering heavens. My student has truly accomplished something that I, a laughable old man, could hardly have imagined."

In the ruins of the city square where the Temple of Karabor had been completely destroyed, Sachar trembled as he raised his hands, letting the chilling cold lash his broken, dying body.

It looked at the light that shimmered in the pitch-black night.

That was the streak of light from the Argus Lord and the Lightforged fleet as they returned from the sea of ​​stars, like a dazzling meteor shower illuminating the world beneath the night.

But in Sachiel's view, the white-haired immortal still stood proudly atop the Crimson Tower.

He seemed to be admiring the "beautiful scenery" in the distance, and then, in a turn of his head, he smiled and raised his crimson wine glass to Sachir, as if welcoming an old friend.

The Shaper perfectly fulfilled the Eternal One's "invitation," sending Diakum Zastins's soul to the Shadowlands as He wished.

To fulfill this unplanned and capricious invitation, Sachir risked everything.

But it might be worth it.

When the highest heavens stand above all living beings, and the holy war of the blazing sun is about to begin in the Sea of ​​No Light, the ancient game of the eternal Death has finally come to an end.

The conflict between the six fundamental forces has escalated beyond control. The six nobles sit around a high table, and only one can claim victory. The Death faction, which has been lurking and waiting, is about to bare its fangs.

Sachir laughed.

As Lord Argus drew closer to the Temple of Karabor, Sachar's laughter grew increasingly unrestrained.

Until the giant of the starry sea lightly landed outside the ruins of the city square, holding a fragment of the sun, and when His eyes looked directly at the great demon lord who was crawling to the edge of the ruins, Sachar raised his hands and knelt before Lord Argus.

It said loudly:

"Bless you, great homeland; pray for you, supreme Lord; we will surely return home."

"You are not qualified!"

Argus roared as he raised his lightning blade, letting the light of the Fallen Emperor intertwine with the lightning to tear through the night. He declared:
"Your homeland will no longer welcome you, traitor! You are banished, forever!"

"Of course, I deserve it."

Sachir tilted his head back and then slammed it heavily against the rubble of the ruins.

In that blood-soaked kneeling worship, it said:
"I will fill the last missing link in the Eredar civilization you shaped. I will embark on the path of no return that I have chosen. No one will sing my praises, and no one will remember me."

This is what I deserve.

But I still look forward to the final glory being bestowed upon you.

Send me on my journey, send me on that final road.

I will guide Him
Until tomorrow, until the dawn arrives.

"Yes, I'm honored."

"boom"

The falling imperial meteor transformed the blinding lightning into a blade of destruction, annihilating the entire plaza ruins and one-sixth of the city into wailing primordial matter.

As the lightning blade struck, Sachir closed his eyes with satisfaction.

As it says, raise your hands high in glory and embrace the end you deserve with satisfaction.

It has burned out like rotten coal.

However, beneath the extinguished flames, embers still yearn to reignite.

It had already embarked on this path of no return, and had gotten lost along the way, but after being awakened by Diakum, it knew that it could not turn back, nor did it need to.

One's future lies in that beautiful death, and one's salvation lies in that end-times promise that has never been bestowed.

The Eredars are not perfect yet.
They are still missing one final blessing, and Sachir will personally fill in this last gap for them.

The solitary immortality has ended; from now on, the Eredar will give time more meaning.

A glorious prosperity has arrived, and from this day forward, Argus will be subject to change until eternity.

Death, which I have long awaited, has come to keep my appointment.

(End of this chapter)