14. The Eternal Light of Holiness, the Timeless Legacy of the Shadow Emperor

The main structure of the Great Lecture Hall was being shattered by bursting fel energy. The vast surge of fel energy pouring from the summoning ritual below corroded and melted everything it touched, like highly concentrated sulfuric acid.

Sachir stood alone before what could now be called the "Well of Fel Energy," single-handedly sustaining the massive summoning ritual.

You ask why none of the other members of the Awakeners’ Cult came to help?

Good question!

First, look at the scattered corpses of the high-level warlocks assigned to guard the formation here. While Sachir and Archimonde, master and apprentice, were locked in a fierce battle, the elite members of the Assassin’s Court were far from idle.

Although Dick’s orders to Captain Nali were to ensure Archimonde’s death, the situation was simply overwhelming.

Considering the cataclysmic clash between Sachir and Archimonde, it wasn’t just Captain Nali who dared not attempt a sneak attack—even Talgas himself might have hesitated. Besides, the assassins had their KPIs to meet; they couldn’t just linger beside Archimonde, ready to take his life at any moment.

Nali made the right choice.

While she and her team caused chaos on the surface, they infiltrated underground and strived to eliminate the warlocks guarding the large summoning ritual. But by the time they destroyed the filthy, corpse-strewn ritual site with Naruu-blessed holy water, Sachir had already arrived.

What happened next speaks for itself.

In short, Captain Nali—covered in blood and bearing three curses—was now carrying the chatty assassin Yula on her back and dragging along the assassin’s foil, Maras, struggling to break through the collapsing ruins to escape.

Only the three of them survived out of the entire elite task force; the rest had been thrown into the summoning ritual by Sachir as flesh sacrifices.

That ancient warlock, teetering on the edge of demonic transformation, was clearly beyond the capacity of even these high-level assassins. After he activated the ritual, unleashing the frenzy of star-sea demons into the physical world, the rest had to be left to General Elodus’s capital garrison.

Yet, the Assassin’s Court’s efforts weren’t entirely in vain. Apart from Sachir and a few surface-roaming warlocks, the core forces of the Awakeners’ Cult headquarters had largely been wiped out in the chaos.

This cult’s attempted coup failed before it even began—though the cleanup was somewhat lacking.

“We’re definitely going to lose our bonuses,” Nali gasped, staring at the towering green pillar of energy. She winced through the pain and sighed:

“I’ll probably be exiled to some branch office.”

“Look on the bright side: at least we’re alive,” the chatty assassin behind her said weakly.

“Damn! Being in the Assassin’s Court is getting harder. We used to deal with nothing more than bandits and mad smugglers, maybe a crazy mage now and then.”

“Now? We’re fighting demons head-on.”

“Captain, maybe we should consider switching careers.”

“You can joke all you want, but you better be fine,” Nali snapped, despite her aching tailbone.

“Cut the chatter. I’ll get you out of here.”

The three were lucky. Their escape route from the underground ritual area wasn’t far from the lecture hall’s exit. Nali wielded her shotgun, blasting apart the scaly heads of demonic hellhounds, shielding her companions as they fled—only to soon be surrounded by more demons.

They were cornered against the outer wall of the lecture hall. The bloodthirsty hellhounds, using strange tendrils as eyes, dripped corrosive saliva as they closed in.

The seasoned ranger knew there was no way out.

She looked up at the sky where demons battered the barrier of holy light. The priests of the Naruu temple had prepared well.

That brought her some peace.

Even if she died here, the demons wouldn’t break through to harm the people of Oronar City so easily.

“Captain...” whispered the chatty assassin, tossing a jewel-embedded throwing knife with one hand.

“I have a secret I haven’t told you. Now’s the time. You’ve always suspected something between me and Maras, right? Good news: you’re right. Bad news is—”

“Shut up, Yula!” Nali was busy loading her shotgun and throwing explosives, no time for gossip.

“I don’t care about your damn office romance. Focus! Even if we die, assassins die with dignity...”

“Thunk.”

Right then, a spear suddenly crashed through the darkness nearby, pinning a hellhound lunging at Nali to the ground.

Amid the stunned gazes of Nali and Yula, a burst of dazzling holy light exploded before them, and a sturdy sentinel leapt down from above.

The fierce warrior swung a jewel warhammer, striking left and right, driving back the encroaching hellhounds in a golden blaze.

Behind the grizzled sentinel followed a squad of five young warriors, well-equipped and familiar with demonic tactics. Their coordinated whirlwind assault quickly carved a path through the chaos.

Farya rushed forward, grabbed her spear, and glanced at Nali, Yula, and their unknown companion. She panted, asking:

“Can you still walk? Get out of here! General Elodus’s thunder elephant heavy cavalry are advancing. Find them!”

“Got it, thanks,” Nali replied, hoisting Maras and helping Yula to their feet as they retreated.

Moments later, after the brave old sentinel crushed a screaming succubus, he turned and asked:

“You’re from the Assassin’s Court? Is Dick inside?”

“Ah?”

Nali froze, then realized this elite squad was here to rescue Captain Diakem. She nodded and pointed to the collapsing lecture hall:

“Dick’s inside. When we escaped, we saw him heading underground with two mage girls! Sachir’s there—damn it! Go get him! Sachir’s no ordinary foe; that monster slaughtered my whole team.”

“Kids, follow me!” Maldren, the sentinel, relaxed upon hearing Dick was alive.

Gripping his jewel warhammer, he charged into the demon-infested ruins of the lecture hall, the five young warriors following close behind.

They could have rested safely in the Arcanum, but when they saw Maldren leave alone, they knew another mission awaited—and they followed.

Yet, compared to the relatively smooth “quelling” at the Arcanum, the lecture hall was truly a demon’s lair.

Here, the five young warriors saw not only the lesser demons they had beaten in the “Demon Duel Trials” but also many more grotesque, frenzied mid-to-high-tier demons.

Even the Doomguards, the trial’s final bosses, were present in numbers of seven or eight.

For their strength, accidentally entering this genuinely “high-level map” was almost a death sentence if luck ran out.

Maldren recognized the danger. After killing a squad of demon guards, he turned to the five and shouted:

“You all retreat! Hold the outer passage and contact General Elodus’s scouts. Tell them his only, useless nephew is here and to send reinforcements immediately.”

“You’re General Elodus’s nephew? Oh my,” blurted out the straightforward Imira.

“How can you be security deputy captain at the Arcanum with that background? Born with a silver spoon, no?”

“Is this the time to discuss that?” Farya, sensing their helplessness against strong demons, lightly tapped Imira’s scatterbrained head and decisively led the squad back.

Minutes later, the five ran into the twins battling a Shivarla Destroyer with ice and fire, also trying to retreat.

Bad luck caught them—they were targeted by a powerful demon.

“Help!” Farya shouted; the five immediately formed up and charged.

Imira, the reluctant healer, loathed healing troublesome comrades but was still a priest. As she approached, she swung her healing staff, casting two Restoration spells on the battered twins.

The twins perked up, cooperating in combat.

These genius casters only needed a tank to shield them, buying the distance to cast spells. Even powerful demons could be quickly dealt with.

A minute later, the plump, six-armed Destroyer was frozen solid, then half incinerated by a fiery explosion. The twins finally caught their breath.

Pointing behind them, they shouted:

“Captain Diakem rushed underground alone. He said something about ‘maintaining fate’ and told us to leave first. He claimed he could handle what’s down there, but we don’t think he can.”

“Sachir defeated Archimonde. Although we killed the principal and his henchmen, Sachir is clearly a different level of opponent.”

“He needs help!”

“Maldren went down already. He told us to seek General Elodus for aid.”

Farya braced her spear and asked the twins:

“You want to leave like this? Can you still teleport? Send us out to find reinforcements!”

“Only random teleportation!” Oleses turned, terrified of the ever-growing fel storm. “The fel energy disrupts arcane too much. I can only ensure we get to somewhere else in Mak’are, but I can’t control the exact destination.”

“Then hurry!”

The typically taciturn swordsman Tramon raised his demon-bloodied greatsword and barked:

“The Eredar Doomguard above have noticed us. With that power, we can’t win this fight!”

“Saloras, now! Teleport!”

The rational sister grabbed her sister’s hand. The two gifted casters, linked by innate telepathy, synchronized their spellcasting at 500%. Just as the Doomguard roared and slammed a cursed giant sword down on them, a shimmer of arcane light enveloped the group, and they vanished in an instant.

Boom!

The massive fel blade slammed into the ground, erupting in a lava-like fel explosion—but missed its prey.

Random teleportation was a last-ditch measure for casters, used only when all else failed. Even Archimonde or Sachir couldn’t guarantee a safe landing point; landing inside a building would be fatal.

They were literally gambling with their lives.

Tonight, however, the five and the twins were lucky.

When the arcane light faded, the seven were briefly stunned by violent arcane tremors.

Before they could recover, they were surrounded by a crystal spear wrapped in holy light. Looking up, they saw several towering guardians clad in sacred armor, eyes cold and stern.

“Children, do not be afraid!” came a familiar, gentle voice.

The holy light bearers cleared a path, and the weary seven gawked as the Archon of the Eredar, Velen himself, smiled before them, holding the legendary artifact T’uure, the Light’s Beacon, gifted by the Naaru.

Damn!

The random teleport had delivered them near the Naaru temple, where the Archon was meditating.

It just goes to show how quickly mages can act at crucial moments.

While the five trembled in awe, the twins exchanged a glance and immediately cried out:

“Archon! Please hurry to the lecture hall in Oronar City and save the people! The demon horde, led by Enlightener Sachir, is invading Argus! Captain Diakem tried to stop the disaster alone, but—”

“What?” Velen’s face darkened.

He had learned hours ago of the Awakeners’ Cult’s coup attempt through Archimonde’s treacherous informant, but his most trusted brother Kil’jaeden assured him he had everything under control.

After all, Velen was primarily a caster, less skilled in tactics, so he had entrusted the matter to his capable brother.

But judging by the terrible wounds on these young warriors and the vile corruption of demonic blood, tonight’s events had spiraled wildly out of control.

“Hold on, children. You may feel dizzy.”

Velen decisively placed the holy artifact on the ground. A majestic arcane radiance surged around him, forming brilliant runes that enveloped himself, the seven youths, and six holy light bearers guarding him.

With a sweep of the artifact, the group vanished.

When they reappeared, they were atop the observation tower high above Oronar City in the Mak’are region.

Velen’s heart was devoted to the Light.

He admired the Light’s teachings of guiding people toward goodness but had not yet fully embraced the faith as Archon.

Still the most powerful arcane mage in Argus, his talent and power rivaled that of Sachir and Archimonde. His group teleport was swift and precise, defying fel interference to land exactly where intended—much superior to the twins’ skill.

“By Argus!” When Velen saw the sky-piercing dark green beam and the surging hordes of grotesque demons, he finally understood Diakem’s dire intelligence and Archimonde’s exaggerated warnings were not overblown.

If anything, he and Kil’jaeden had underestimated the malice among the stars.

Yet, the streets of the old city were filled with fully armed thunder elephant cavalry compressing the demons’ positions, and the priests of the Naaru temple upheld the holy barrier that blocked demon incursions. Kil’jaeden’s arrangements ensured the demons could not harm the people.

But as a skilled arcane mage, Velen immediately saw the problem.

If the large summoning ritual was not stopped soon, demon numbers would overwhelm the garrison’s capacity.

“Follow me!”

The Archon’s face darkened as he wielded his staff and commanded his mighty holy light guards.

He instructed the seven youths to find General Elodus quickly, then teleported himself and his guards directly to the old city’s battlefield.

Moments later, a shower of massive meteors rained down on the lecture hall’s ruins.

The falling meteors, trailing long fiery tails, struck with devastating force, instantly suppressing the wild demons’ arrogance.

Truly worthy of the Archon.

Meanwhile, in the safe zone of Oronar City, Commander Kil’jaeden sat, commanding from his post.

At the sight of the iconic meteor spell, he immediately rose.

His calm expression broke.

He knew the one who shouldn’t be here had come.

“Shouldn’t my brother Velen be meditating in the Naaru temple? Why is he on the battlefield?”

Kil’jaeden looked at Talgas, who reported back, and scolded him, leaving the assassin leader exasperated and weary.

Does this man misunderstand his brother’s power?

Velen was a legendary mage on par with Sachir. Where he went was not for an assassin’s decision.

“Sigh, I hate surprises!”

Kil’jaeden waved for his guards to bring his jewel-encrusted sword and shield. He dismounted and mounted his war thunder elephant.

His command guard moved toward the old city battlefront, but Kil’jaeden’s mind was elsewhere.

He had made proper arrangements, even summoning a Naaru guardian.

That was his trump card.

He was confident the demons and Enlightener would be crushed tonight by the valiant Eredar.

Looking up at the golden shimmering holy light barrier blocking the demons, he knew his brother Velen was drawn to the Light’s teachings and was still wrestling with his faith.

The commander sensed that tonight, Velen might make a fateful decision.

But that was not what Kil’jaeden wished to see.

As a leader, he had no issue with the Light’s principles—its call to goodness was a powerful tool—but the blind faith it demanded was problematic.

He did not want to see his wise brother fall under the Light’s spell and lose himself.

Decades of friendship and mutual support had made their bond deeper than friends or even brothers; they regarded each other as kin.

He protected Velen as a gift fate had given him.

Their love was not crude affection or possession but a deep, self-like care.

“Well, if fate wills it so, Velen, then embrace that light.”

Kil’jaeden squinted, watching the battlefield and the shining light, silently vowing:

“Pursue the light in your heart to better lead our people! But, my dear brother, if that flickering light seeks to claim your pure soul, I will forsake all to fight it fiercely! If I cannot save you, I will follow you into the abyss.”

——————

“Thunk.”

Dick and Maldren flew like violently struck golf balls, crashing into the fel-corrupted stone walls of the underground ritual chamber.

Maldren fared better.

Protected by holy light, he grimaced but stood, gripping his jewel warhammer again.

Dick had no such protection.

He lay there, beaten by the Dark Wrath, unable to rise for a long time.

Though resolved, the disparity in strength was utterly despairing.

Though the sentinel was a unique Eredar hybrid of paladin and warrior, relying solely on his warrior prowess was clearly insufficient for the treacherous situation.

The skull of Archimonde, bound to his waist, fell and was grabbed by the fel energy’s claw-like tendrils.

It was now in Sachir’s hands, standing amid the fel light like a “demonic god.”

The Enlightener gripped his disciple’s unwilling head with his clawed left hand, sneering as pure fel energy poured into the blood and flesh through his fingers.

Maldren helped Dick to his feet, watching as the skin and veins on Archimonde’s severed head pulsed with emerald energy, then were incinerated by fel fire, leaving only a flawless Eredar skull.

Sachir blew ashes from the mournful remains.

Shaking his head, he said:

“Poor craftsmanship. You didn’t even have time to store your soul in a soul stone before death. I can still hear my child’s wailing.”

“No matter. I’ll help you.”

He levitated Archimonde’s skull before him, then casually shaped pure fel energy into a green crystal-like soul stone.

Using soul-sucking fel magic, he extracted Archimonde’s weakened soul, imprisoning it within.

Satisfied, Sachir secured the skull as a magical focus and cracked his fel whip, aiming to strangle the two overconfident sentinels.

Maldren pushed Dick aside.

Fel tendrils lifted him into the air, but his holy light flared, protecting the high-ranking sentinel.

“Dick! Summon your holy light!”

He shouted hoarsely:

“I can’t defeat this fel-forged monster alone. Dick, you must heed the Light’s guidance. Trust it as you trust yourself! The Light brought you here for a reason! Now, drop all doubt. Call upon the holy light within your heart!”

Dick knew the moment was dire.

He was ready, but Maldren’s arrival was unexpected. Now, he bore not only his own fate but the lives of his friends.

Yet, this was his plan all along.

He intended to reestablish his connection with the Light in such a desperate moment.

This was no reckless gamble but a method he devised, inspired by the stories of mighty paladins receiving blessings in the canonical history of the Dark Portal.

The Light, a force of faith, seemed to favor warriors who fought steadfastly in despair, generously granting power to those courageous souls.

Dick had reached this point.

Clutching the wound on his chest, he stood amid the fel-corrupted chamber, facing the beginning of his second destiny.

He stared at Sachir, who watched him with interest, seemingly awaiting a miracle.

“So... Light...” Dick called out.

He extended his hand.

Almost instantly, he felt a warm power gathering in his palm—a response from the Light.

But that was not enough.

He had to make a solemn vow, to clarify his moral purpose.

It must be a cause worthy of his lifelong dedication, one he genuinely cared for and could pour all his passion into.

What was that?

Dick saw Maldren fighting under the Light’s protection and thought of Maldren’s two children. The girl, Lailan, was destined for tragedy in the world called Draenor millennia later.

It was a tragedy recorded in history.

One of many sorrows the Draenei suffered in the millennia to come.

He did not want such fate to befall them, just as he had resolved to sacrifice himself to kill Archimonde.

This was not merely a defiant act against cold destiny—it was perhaps a silent declaration of his renewed life.

The path of righteousness he sought had been within him the moment he opened his eyes for the second life.

“I will change those disasters. I will stop those tears from falling. I will turn all sorrow I see into inspiring miracles.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and spoke silently:

“I know where the river of fate flows. I will wade forward, a steadfast stone turning the current!”

“I will shape the hand of destiny and ultimately reverse the future...

Bear witness!

Bear witness to this righteousness and vow! Light, if you truly are the primordial glow flickering in the dark ages, then help me.”

“Beep...”

In a gentle sound and a warm glow’s embrace, Dick saw the glowing runes:

【External Power Access Established! Power Path: Holy Light Force. Connection Mode: Infusion Blessing! 【Holy Light Righteousness: Hand of Destiny】 crystallized!

Class power activating!

Class alignment: Retribution/Punishment/Judgment!

Holy power infusion capacity: Medium; enhanced to Superior by ‘Energy Affinity Tattoo’ and ‘Elemental Grease’.

Veil of the Beyond active; Paladin class combat talents unlocked!

Radiant Holy Runes activated!

Retribution Aura activated!

Divine Crusade activated!

Ashes Judgment activated!

Blazing Devotion activated!

Holy Storm activated!

War Art activated!

Light Drawn activated!

Diakem Zastyns! Your oath, forged from boundless zeal and supreme devotion, confirms your allegiance. You are born to the radiant force!

The Light embraces you and chooses you as tonight’s ‘Hand of Destiny’!

It awaits your miracles.

Enemies lie ahead—wield this radiant blade with all your might.】

“Boom!”

The terrifying eruption of holy light shattered Sachir’s fel scythe aimed at Dick.

In the golden storm sweeping the fel-tainted ground, Maldren’s fel bindings dissolved effortlessly.

With a stunned look as if witnessing a divine descent, Maldren watched Dick pick up the dropped warhammer.

With a casual swing, the gemmed weapon blazed like a golden torch.

He lifted his head.

Golden, burning light followed his advance, leaving marks of devotion that cleansed the surrounding fel corruption.

At this moment, he seemed forged from light itself.

This was a temporary empowerment—no tale involving the Light lacks such a “burst.”

The power once sweeping the star sea had returned.

Though not much, it was enough.

“Evil...” he fixed his gaze on Sachir, clutching the warhammer.

Behind him, radiant wings spread like an eagle in flight, golden feathers scattering.

“Step back!”