Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 671, Section 39: Oh, feeling mentally drained? Why don't you ask Uncle Dick to help you calm down?

"So, your power characteristic is 'light and shadow'? Could you describe it to me in detail? If you need a weapon that suits your hand, I'll have to make one tailor-made for you."

In the Marquis's Hall of the Soul Selection Academy, the very dedicated bone craftsman Helmir, clutching a craftsman's book, inquired in detail:

"The rune sword left behind by the Lord of War is a perfect prototype. It has almost infinite possibilities. It was shaped using the techniques of the Firstborn. Theoretically, it can be adapted to other Forces as well."

“But I have my own suitable weapon, I just didn’t bring it with me.”

Diakum said somewhat awkwardly:

"I just need a weapon to use temporarily. To be honest, my body is not dead at the moment, but is in the process of power fusion and regeneration. You asked me to describe the characteristics of my power, but I can't tell you what kind of power I will have in the future."

I didn't intend to take this rune sword with me.

Since it is a creation of the Lord of War, it will remain in Maldraxxus in the future. You can think of it as me just 'borrowing' it.

Therefore, just manufacture it according to your Maldraxxus standards, and grant me the right to borrow it.

"Oh, what a peculiar request."

The bone craftsman exclaimed in amazement:

"You must have seen many divine weapons, which is why you are so dismissive of the creations of the Lord of Weapons. I see no desire for power in your eyes, which fully demonstrates that you are very satisfied with the weapons you possess."

According to us craftsmen, you and your weapon are of one mind and have a very good relationship. If I were to force you to make a better one at this time, provided that my skills are capable of doing so, it would only create trouble for you and your weapon.

Just like a harmonious married couple doesn't need a third party to interfere.

"Uh, are all you master blacksmiths so eloquent? What a wonderful metaphor from Maldraxxus."

Diakum complained:
"But I understand what you mean. I do have a good relationship with my weapons. They are all powerful and eager to serve me, and they have all awakened their own paths of power."

Although Twilight's Hammer has yet to develop its own concept of power, that's not its problem, it's mine.

Perhaps after my rebirth is complete, Twilight's Hammer will also possess the concept of 'eclipse', just like Ashbringer.

"The concept of power?"

The bone craftsman was startled.

She exclaimed:

"So, you possess a concept-level weapon just like Lady Lelenia, the sword of Emperor Denathrius? That's truly astonishing."

"Remonia? That little bitch... uh, sorry, I was being rude. I mean, the power concept of that eccentric demon sword that I taught a lesson to was entirely bestowed by Emperor Denathrius."

That wasn't her own power; she was just using someone else's influence to intimidate others.

Diakum shook his head and said:
"But the power of the Ashbringers comes from the great power they gained after going through difficult trials with me. I don't think Lelenia is qualified to be compared with my Ashbringers."

However, my weapon is indeed not very suitable for use in the Shadowlands. Its concept of light is simply deadly to undead like you. Leaving it in the material world is the right choice.

Well, since we're on the topic...

The vigilant stroked his chin, reflecting on what he would be doing in the not-too-distant future, and said:

"If it's possible to customize a weapon, I'd like you to modify this rune sword into a 'torch,' the kind of torch that can store light."

I need to use it somewhere in the Shadowlands to bury my 'brethren,' and incidentally store the light they left behind in the land of the dead as fuel for a truly great undertaking in the future.

I don't even need this torch to be destructive; my own power is sufficient in the Shadowlands.

The bone craftsman nodded.

Although this request may sound a bit outrageous, as a master craftswoman who has studied forging under the master of weaponry, she is perfectly capable of forging any weapon.

she says:

"A torch, huh? Then let's turn it into a warhammer!"

That's easy. A torch-wielding warhammer—many warriors in Maldraxxus who were believers in the past loved to use such ritual weapons. Besides, you got the runeblade, so it's yours!

Although the Lord of War did not specifically say who this rune sword belonged to, Maldraxxus is not a stingy place. Although you do not lack weapons, my professional ethics as a craftsman require me to make something as perfect as possible for you.

I also need you to confirm the weapon's design and decorative style.

"Then I'll draw one for you."

Dick suddenly had an inspiration, took the paper and pen and quickly sketched a weapon, handing it to the Bonesmith. Helmir took a look and couldn't help but chuckle, saying:

"Well, the cross-shaped warhammer, it's certainly a weapon in the style of a believer, but let me make it clear beforehand that I'm not a believer so I don't know how to inscribe prayers on this kind of weapon. Therefore, once it's finished, you'll need to carve your own prayers on it."

"no problem."

This request struck a nerve with Diakum, who sighed and said:
"When I was young and inexperienced, I struggled to even write a decent character, but after years of practice, I am now completely different. My calligraphy is now superb! Even the great calligraphy master of the Eredar people, the Prophet Velen, praised it!"

"is it?"

The bone craftsman looked at the explanatory text on the sketch with some embarrassment. The text... well, it wasn't bad, but it was definitely not "good."

It's just so-so, nothing special.

But when she saw the look in Diakum's eyes, the longing for praise in them made even the Bonesmith, a soul that had been dead for countless years, swallow hard. She realized that "unmet expectations can develop into something dangerous," so for her own safety, she reluctantly nodded and said:
"Hmm, this calligraphy is amazing! This is the first time I've ever seen such outstanding Eredar calligraphy! Only someone born to be a lesser god could write such beautiful characters. Um... please rest here, I'll go modify your weapon right away."

However, its original form was a rune sword, and even after being modified into a warhammer using the Warlord's Secret Technique, it still retained its sharp edge.

There's nothing we can do about it; I hope you can understand.

Having said that, the bone craftsman, fearing that this foreign minor deity might want to keep him to critique his calligraphy, hurriedly left.

Diakum remarked in the hall:
"Oh dear, the people from the Shadow Kingdom are truly insightful. As expected of the Master of War's apprentice, they immediately recognized that my years of hard work have indeed paid off! Ms. Vera is good in every way, but her comments are too harsh."

"It's the other way around!"

The Blackhand Chieftain's roar suddenly rang out from outside the hall, filled with an unbearable rage:
"What kind of bastard dares to openly attack the fortress of the Chosen Ones? Does he really think Maldraxxus is invincible? Guards! Bring me my 'Hand of Mourning'!"

"what happened?"

Diakum pushed open the door and asked a question. Blackhand glanced at him, suppressed his anger, and said:

“A strange Kyrian with black wings has stormed into the fortress of the Chosen Ones, saying he wants to meet you.”

"what?"

The vigilant said in surprise:
"Then let her in. Are you worried about someone assassinating me? As long as it's not my eldest daughter disguised as a 'Forsworn' to assassinate me. Hmm, it's fine if she comes. I might not be confident against other Eternals, but dealing with a 'civilian' eldest daughter is a piece of cake."

"This isn't a question of whether I'm worried or not; we in Maldraxus have our own unique circumstances!"

Chief Blackhand emphasized:

"Unless invited, members of other covenants are not allowed to enter the fortresses of the various secret academies at will. That black-winged Kyrian has gone too far. She actually dared to injure one of our people in the Soulchosen Academy. This is an unforgivable act of stupidity."

There's no way to resolve this peacefully now.

I don't care what she came for, but you'll probably have to wait a bit before she collapses.

"I won't kill her, but she'll probably be talking to you lying down." "Oh, since it's local custom, then let's do it your way."

Diakum was deeply impressed by the local people's tough character, and he waved his hand, saying:

"It's not a bad thing to clear up the doubts of the other party before the conversation begins, but you need to be careful because I planted a seed of doubt in DeVos, and that seed is contagious."

So, if you truly believe that the Spirit Warriors of the Soul-Chosen Academy are fearless and possess an iron will, then I eagerly await your performance in the coming period.

The vigilant reminded:

"Unless there is a truly great moral principle worth upholding, willpower alone is not enough to overcome the 'Inner Demon Curse.' No one has been able to give me a perfect answer before, and I am looking forward to seeing if the Death Guards of Maldraxxus can give me a refreshing response."

Anyway, best of luck to you.

------

About thirty minutes later, DeVos was dragged and thrown into the Marquis's Hall, where Diakum was located, by two psychic warriors wearing horned helmets.

Although the Black Hand said he would spare her life, she had injured someone from the Soul Selection Academy, which meant she could escape the death penalty but not the punishment.

Devos's black wings were cut in half, and most of the feathers on the remaining half were plucked. His entire body was covered in blue blood, making him look like a "cheap Avatar" or a "giant Smurf" at a comic convention.

She was thrown at the feet of Diakum, who was praying with his eyes closed and reciting the Canon of Light and Shadow, while the blue giant, shrouded in the dynamic light and shadow, looked down at her from above.

These Maldraxxus savages gouged out this poor girl's eyes!

Judging from her current appearance, it's clear that DeVos has been suffering from severe mental strain lately. She was probably already insane when she stormed in, which explains why the psychic warriors under Blackhand's command were so ruthless.

There's no way to control this crazy woman without resorting to some drastic measures.

Although the Kyrian angels of Bastion are indeed problematic in terms of combat strength, Devos was once a loyal saint, a second-tier leader under the eldest daughter, whose status was the same as the Marquises of Maldraxxus, all of whom directly obtained power from the eldest daughter, and could be considered the core followers of the true god.

It's just that the constraints of the Shadow Realms prevent them from becoming lesser gods, and the Eternals are merely empty titles with weak combat abilities, so they can't bestow much power upon their core followers.

Devos is now at the same level as Aegwynn, reaching the level of a critical lesser god, but the path to higher levels is completely blocked.

Of course, her actual combat strength is definitely not at the level of Aegwynn, otherwise she wouldn't have been torn apart by the Vigilant who hadn't yet truly ascended to godhood when she encountered Diakum before.

“If you have doubts and are risking your life to come see me, you should not just scold me.”

Diakum stopped praying and reached out to place his hand on the forehead of DeVos, who was struggling in a pool of blood.

In the radiant light, the powerful healing effect of the Holy Word: Life was applied to Kyrian, but the seemingly holy being was actually a true creation of death. The conflict between the Holy Light and the Force of Death made this healing seem like the most terrible punishment.

But Diakum then changed the way the Holy Light operated, allowing the healing light of dawn to envelop Devos's tattered body like mercury.

The sunlight is always gentle, and it shines equally on all life, even a speck of dust. Even the dead are entitled to enjoy the sunlight.

During the treatment, Devos's self-doubting consciousness was also freed from her painful body under Diakum's guidance. When she opened her eyes, what came into view was the long staircase of faith and the towering gate to the highest heaven.

Golden dawn light and blazing sun poured down from all around the gates of this highest heaven like a waterfall.

The icons standing outside the gate, flanking the long steps, raise their spears, their red ribbons of glory serving as an encouragement to guide the Holy Spirit as he ascends.

Countless Holy Spirits proclaimed the doctrine of Holy Light, climbing the golden staircase with piety, but most of them could only stop at the first ninety-nine verses and could not go any higher.

That wasn't intentional harassment.

However, most Holy Spirits cannot overcome the test of self-examination. They need long-term cultivation to draw their own morality from the morality of the Holy Light and transform it into a more steadfast commitment.

Climbing to the highest heavens requires more than just piety.

Diakum hopes that followers of the Holy Light will not only be devout, but also possess the wisdom to solve problems, the courage to face difficulties, the resilience to persevere in desperate situations, and the benevolence to shine upon all people.

Piety is merely the key to entering this place; to become a member of the High Heaven, far too many virtues are required.

Even though most people cannot climb to the top of those long steps, the Holy Spirits who stand on them and pray loudly do not feel discouraged or desperate. On the contrary, they perform the ritual of faith on the steps where they stand, and then return to the material world bathed in light.

The long staircase is a trial, and even if you fail the trial, you will still gain something.

Conversely, those who curse and vilify the highest heavens because they cannot reach the top are probably not qualified to enter this place.

Diakum is not a good-tempered person.

Although he is gentle, it doesn't mean he tolerates idiots. The threshold to enter the highest heaven is very high, which is enough to filter out most of those guys who make people "dislike stupidity".

"Step onto those steps."

Diakum's voice rang in the ears of the bewildered DeVos, he said:
"Although you are a dead being, you once lived your life as a mortal in the material star sea."

You completed the 'promotion' as required by your eldest daughter, but the price was that you voluntarily abandoned the past that shaped you, poured out your entire life, and left only a 'promotion' body. Subsequently, your eldest daughter bestowed upon you a new identity and status according to the will of Heaven.

However, I firmly believe that when a child is born, their parents do not want them to spend their entire lives merely as a vessel for some kind of 'duty' after death.

I firmly believe that every child, at the moment of growing up, sets their ideal for themselves as something other than becoming a puppet on a string, of high status but completely devoid of their own thoughts and inner qualities.

Your problem is not a problem.

The answer you need shouldn't be given to you by me.

All your pain, sorrow, and despair come from that 'self' that you threw away with your own hands. The seeds of doubt I planted in you were not meant to harm you, DeVos. I am not that malicious.

I merely broke free from the constraints of fate and being the eldest daughter. I simply reminded you that you were once a person, with your own joys and sorrows, your own unforgettable memories and longings, not a replaceable cog in a system.

The guards laughed.

At that moment, DeVos felt a pair of warm hands push him on the shoulder, leading him onto the long staircase bathed in holy light.

"But I have already washed away the past."

Standing on the steps, DeVos said blankly:
"I have abandoned everything that once belonged to me, just for the sake of a pure advancement. I have become a different person, able to deal with everything rationally. They all say that I am perfect in that way."

"But the past is in everyone's shadow."

Diakum spoke in a gentle voice, as if preaching a sermon:

"When you view your past self as if you were looking at someone else's story, and you can rationally comment on your past self, it only means that you are already 'sick'."

In my experience, I have also received a blessing called "harmony between man and nature," which allows me to resist the interference of the seven emotions and six desires.

But believe me, my child, the 'transcendence' that Fortress Ascension teaches you is not true transcendence, and spiritual castration can bring you no glory.

Under the eldest daughter's rule, there is nothing but 'nothingness'.

No wonder the Void invaded your place; it's a perfect match for the Sea of ​​No Light.

She heard the person who had once made her grit her teeth encourage her:

"Go find yourself. Go find the ghost who begged you not to abandon her on the eve of your promotion, that girl named 'Devos' who has been wandering in the abyss of loneliness and oblivion for far too long."

She had been disappointed for far too long.

I think we'd better not let her spend another night alone."

(End of this chapter)