16. May the Holy Light Guide You Gently

General Elodus’s Thunder Elephant Heavy Cavalry lived up to its reputation as the elite guard of the capital.

Faced with the cultists of the Awakener sect and the demons they summoned, these heavy cavalry swiftly shattered the enemy’s defenses and immediately entered the phase of pursuit and execution.

The duel between Dick, Maldran, and Sachir, though seeming prolonged, lasted less than ten minutes. By then, only a few minutes had passed since High Sorcerer Velen joined the battlefield. From this perspective, the Awakener cult’s coup had been decisively suppressed from the very beginning.

This success owed much to the Assassin Court’s excellent intelligence work and to Kil’Jaeden’s personal command in Oronar City, which ensured none of the operatives dared slack off at such a critical moment.

What? You think the Eredar don’t slack off?

Wrong.

These blue-skinned, hoofed folk have mastered many ways to slack off. If you doubt it, just ask the rather “legendary” Draenei traveling merchant, Lord Hakmud. He has no combat ability whatsoever but, relying solely on luck and evasion skills, he survived from Argus to Draenor, eventually making his way to Azeroth, joining the Silver Crusade as an outstanding trader, and even witnessing the fall of the Lich King.

Most absurdly, his luck was so extraordinary that he followed the old Velen back to Argus, becoming one of the first returning exiles to liberate their homeland.

That experience alone makes him a dual “supreme deity” in both the art of slacking off and commerce.

In short, on this “Sibisi Night,” once Commander Kil’Jaeden and his guard entered the battlefield, the suppression of the demons and cultists became a thorough and overwhelming sweep, like autumn wind scattering fallen leaves.

The enemy’s demonic army was nowhere near formation. The fel well—the portal for summoning—had been purified by the old Velen. Not a single fel vanguard or demon lord appeared. Under such circumstances, the vast numbers of lesser demons were no match for the well-prepared Eredar, who had them trapped like fish in a barrel.

High-ranking wardens like Dick formed the backbone of the Eredar’s military system. Under General Elodus’s command were thousands of such officers. It was said that this veteran’s garrison recruited with extreme rigor: recruits had to stand at least two and a half meters tall, participate in three Jade Tournament cycles without elimination in the initial rounds, and undergo strict training for over twenty years before becoming full soldiers.

An army trained under such a system meant even a random private could fight unmatched among hellhounds.

Even rookies like the “Five Strong” could form battle formations and break through demon ranks—something unthinkable for other races—testament to the Eredar’s incredible physique and talent.

Simply put:

This race can fight tauren barehanded, possesses agility akin to trolls, energy affinity comparable to elves, learning ability no less than humans, engineering mastery surpassing gnomes, resilience equal to dwarves, and when pushed to the brink, bursts forth with fury like orcs in bloodrage.

Most importantly, Eredar are natural “perfect immortals,” far superior to the “false immortality” granted to night elves.

Except for low numbers, slow reproduction, and the common drawbacks of long-lived beings—such as slow accumulation of individual power—the Eredar have virtually no obvious weaknesses. This explains why Sargeras, the dark titan and apex figure in the physical universe, made recruiting Eredar commanders for the Burning Legion his first priority after forming it in the canonical Dark Portal history.

Therefore, it is unsurprising that, in the initial confrontation tonight against unfamiliar demons, the Eredar achieved such a decisive victory with meticulous preparation.

Of course, many unexpected events occurred this night.

The biggest surprise was that although the Naaru Naruk U’Lare personally defended against the demons’ assault, it was ultimately High Lord Velen who purified the dangerous summoning ritual and ensured the world was not tainted.

But this was no misfortune!

When the ominous fel beam was transformed into dazzling golden light before countless eyes, the soldiers erupted in cheers. Especially the wardens devoted to the Holy Light, who hailed it as another miracle bestowed upon the Eredar.

Their morale soared, yet Kil’Jaeden’s face showed no joy as he advanced with his guard toward the ruins of the lecture hall—only profound concern and helplessness.

His brother Velen possessed the gift of prophecy. In his youth studying arcane arts, he often glimpsed shadows of the future. After the Holy Light descended upon Argus, Velen confided to his closest executive brother, Kil’Jaeden, that he had repeatedly seen himself leading their people under the Light’s protection.

Back then, Kil’Jaeden already knew his wise brother’s faith in the Light was only a matter of time.

Prophets are like that...

When they repeatedly predict the same event, it means their involvement is imminent.

Yet, the blind obedience stirred by the Light’s strong appeal among believers demands attention. Whether out of concern for his brother’s mental health or the heavy duties of the High Lord, Kil’Jaeden could not allow the Eredar leader to become a zealot who places faith above reason.

He resolved to have a long talk with Velen tonight.

He would not hide his whispers; the two brothers must discuss the matter candidly and devise a concrete solution.

But before that, as the wardens’ commander, Kil’Jaeden had many affairs to attend to.

The tactical groundwork was entrusted to the meritorious General Elodus. The commander only needed to issue broad directives: for example, to imprison captured Awakener cultists and nullify their spellcasting abilities, to reassure the alarmed citizens with pre-written statements, and to suitably honor the heroes of this battle.

“You seven performed exceptionally well.”

Mounted atop his thunder elephant saddle, Kil’Jaeden looked down at the seven young warriors before him.

The Five Strong had not obeyed Velen’s order to remain in safe zones; they returned to the battlefield, helped warriors break through the lecture hall’s flank, and were now battered and bedridden on stretchers, awaiting inspection by their leader.

Kil’Jaeden liked such brave, simple, and loyal fighters. For once, a rare smile appeared on his usually stern face as he nodded approvingly.

“You have upheld the ancient tradition of wardens protecting the people. Tonight, you are the pride of the Eredar—and my pride! Rest now, children. You will receive rewards befitting your deeds, but this is only the beginning of your destined bright lives.”

The Five Strong were deeply moved.

Just as Sachir held sway among spellcasters, Kil’Jaeden was the absolute idol among the wardens. His commanding presence and strict but fair style earned him their loyalty.

After praising the Five Strong and watching them carried away by priests for treatment, Kil’Jaeden’s gaze hardened as he turned to the twins.

He scrutinized the two young women, heads bowed, their overly flirtatious attire displeasing him, yet he spoke calmly:

“You also performed admirably. As penitents, you have thoroughly cleansed your shame and restored some dignity to the tainted Arcane Academy.”

“Honorable Commander! This is the head of the Academy traitor Galasum!” Sarolas solemnly raised the head of the Academy Chancellor and addressed Kil’Jaeden:

“We, the sisters, fear to ask for any reward. We only hope your wrath does not consume the Academy’s existence. Under Warden Diakem’s leadership, we eliminated two leaders of the Academy’s traitors; both Principal Akmond and Chancellor Galasum can no longer corrupt the students’ souls.

“But the Arcane Academy itself is innocent...”

“So, am I such a leader who takes out his anger on others in your eyes?”

Kil’Jaeden reprimanded them with moderate severity:

“Merit is merit, fault is fault. There is never a balance between the two!

“Your achievements will not be overlooked. As for the Academy’s future, Velen and I will discuss and the tribunal will decide. But I have heard of your remarkable talents and courage in critical moments. If you find no place to go, come work for the Assassin Court.

“Your gifts deserve proper guidance. Warden Diakem did well this time; he uncovered two flawed gems for me.

“I believe you should receive better training.

“Go now.

“Rest and heal, and stop overthinking.”

Thus, the two sisters were dismissed.

But as they left hand in hand, their fingers gripped tightly—not only from tension but from uncontainable joy.

This was truly a blessing in disguise.

Being personally praised by Commander Kil’Jaeden was rare. Moreover, receiving an early offer from the Assassin Court—though a shadowy place in name—was still a powerful institution directly under the two High Lords, a true civil service and “close imperial retinue.”

Considering the usual career paths available to Arcane Academy graduates in recent years, this was a heavenly boon.

Just as Kil’Jaeden dismounted his thunder elephant and, escorted by imposing guards, stepped into the lecture hall ruins still thick with fel energy, he saw several wardens carrying the severely wounded Warden Maldran on stretchers.

“Is that General Elodus’s nephew?”

Kil’Jaeden asked softly. Nearby, Talgas, head of the Assassin Court, immediately answered:

“Yes. Maldran’s status is somewhat awkward. He is a bastard, so he cannot openly enjoy the Elodus family’s patronage and has had to secure his position at the Academy through his own efforts. However, General Elodus values his only nephew highly.

“His distinguished record proves the old general’s good judgment.

“Maldran played a crucial and valiant role tonight. He is a true hero and an exemplary figure for propaganda.”

Pausing, Talgas glanced at Kil’Jaeden and lowered his voice:

“At least, he is a better model for outstanding wardens than the tainted Diakem.”

“Hm, arrange it,” the commander waved his hand.

“The governor general of the Antoran Plains died from injuries a few months ago. That post needs a reliable and reputable leader. Let Maldran try. Let’s see if he has command talent equal to his uncle’s.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Talgas took note and asked:

“As High Lord Velen personally ended this disaster, with his merciful nature, Diakem will certainly escape death’s fate.”

“Grant him a promotion to ‘Warden Brigadier’ as a reward,” Kil’Jaeden said casually.

“But since he is deeply tied to the Academy faction, he is unsuitable for further involvement in the forthcoming large-scale Academy purge. Let him gain experience elsewhere. Once the people forget this matter, we can recall this meritorious officer to Mak’Aree.”

“Understood.”

Talgas breathed a sigh of relief. Although he had doubts about some of Diakem’s impulsive decisions, he found the man quite to his liking.

Wardens were notoriously rigid and difficult. Rare was a shrewd high-ranking officer like Diakem, making the cooperation with the Assassin Court nearly perfect. If Diakem rose in rank, the Assassin Court would gain a valuable connection.

The group continued forward.

Along the way, frantic demons scattered in panic. Kil’Jaeden forbade his guards from intervening, choosing instead to personally slay several demons with sword and shield.

Not to “farm merit” for himself, but out of a commander’s rigor.

He needed to personally assess the threat posed by such creatures.

After effortlessly dispatching demons of various races and spending time eliminating an Eredun Doomguard, Kil’Jaeden, now warmed up, frowned deeply and handed his weapon to a guard.

He told Talgas:

“They’re tough! Especially given their terrifying numbers, brutal nature, and the fact that they cannot be slain in the physical world. Once the Burning Legion mounts a large-scale invasion of Argus, our existing wardens will struggle to hold the line on all fronts.

“Capture these demons alive and send them to the Technocracy!

“Let the Tech Lords thoroughly study their weaknesses and find the proper countermeasures.”

“We can increase firepower, Commander,” Talgas suggested.

“Demons in the physical world can cast spells but are also vulnerable to physical attacks. Shells and energy beams are effective. But fel magic remains an unfamiliar force to us.

“Although Diakem provided data on the ‘warlock’ profession, it’s insufficient to formulate effective responses to such feral power.”

“Then we learn. We ask! I refuse to believe any power lacks a matching solution. The answer is out there. We must use our wisdom to find it, and I believe noble Eredar are never short of wisdom!”

Kil’Jaeden strode toward the breached lecture hall center, descending along the shattered pulpit into the ritual chamber.

There, he immediately saw Velen personally treating the gravely wounded Warden Diakem, while Sachir, bound in shimmering chains of Holy Light, stood dazed and defeated.

Notably, the mentally broken old sorcerer still had a flying battle axe lodged in his head—just shy of a killing blow.

“Escort Sachir to the Assassin Court under strict surveillance. Talgas, I grant you full authority to use any means necessary to pry open his mouth!

“I want every secret he holds about fel magic and demons. Then summon arcanists and shamans nationwide to Mak’Aree.

“They must rapidly develop countermeasures against fel corruption.

“The demons will not relent.

“The Awakener cult was a despicable attempt. After this dark scheme fails, the demons will likely resort to more direct and violent methods to invade our world.”

Kil’Jaeden stroked his chin adorned with a golden ringed tentacle and said to his most trusted deputy:

“We must prepare for a potentially protracted war. Of course, if the Holy Light faction is willing to assist, so much the better.”

“Indeed. Facing the demon threat now is no time for debates over doctrine and tradition,” Talgas agreed.

He knew Kil’Jaeden planned an important talk with High Lord Velen here, so he stepped back and had the other guards keep watch.

Kil’Jaeden advanced.

He surveyed the ritual chamber’s devastated ground, scarred by alternating fel and Holy Light burns, and the demon remains reduced to ashes by the Light.

He deeply felt the destructive force generated when the gentle Light was wielded correctly in war.

Indeed, every power has two sides.

“Seems you didn’t hold back, brother,” Kil’Jaeden teased gently.

“What? Did the pure Light burn so fiercely that even a master caster like you lost control?”

Such banter only occurred between him and Velen. Velen shook his head and said:

“It wasn’t me, Kil’Jaeden. I only purified the already weakened fel ritual with the Light’s aid. The battle marks you see were all wrought by Warden Diakem.

“Though I did not witness his combat firsthand, forcing the Enlightened into such a sorry state shows that tonight’s miracle of the Light extends beyond merely guiding me...”

Velen turned, still young, his face perfect by Eredar standards.

Serious yet gentle, dignified yet witty.

His black beard was neatly trimmed, complementing the golden arcane rings decorating his chin tentacles. His body was strong from years of training but lacked Akmond’s natural bulkiness. This was a man who offended no one by appearance or bearing.

His soul was as flawless as his visage.

With a weary smile, he maintained the healing spell on Diakem’s gravely injured body while beckoning Kil’Jaeden to help and saying:

“The Holy Light has once again enlightened the Eredar, and this time it was especially generous, sending us a ‘Chosen One.’”

“Hm?”

Kil’Jaeden blinked.

“In matters of faith, that word can’t be used lightly, brother. Do you really believe Diakem Zastins is a Chosen of the Light? He made mistakes! He consorted with cultists for years, willingly acting as the ambitious eyes within a group attempting to subvert order.

“He doesn’t deny learning about those dark secrets.

“Though tonight he accomplished a restoration and redemption even I admire, a fault remains. He is a stained man. Would the Light so generously bless him?”

“Therefore, I have not fully confirmed Diakem’s identity.”

Velen nodded, acknowledging Kil’Jaeden’s caution.

“I only say that he is likely to become a ‘Chosen of the Light’ in the future, the seventh among the Eredar in millennia. But unquestionably, Diakem’s temperament is extreme.

“His hatred of evil is not bad, but compared to our other six Chosen, he is more radical. I witnessed him, near death, using his last strength to attack Sachir, trying to kill tonight’s mastermind.

“He is indeed a follower of the Light.

“But I think his style suits you better, brother.”

“Huh, that axe was thrown by him?”

Kil’Jaeden then looked with interest at the battle axe lodged in Sachir’s head. He imagined Diakem’s resolve—refusing to save himself and attempting to kill the enemy in his dying moments—which improved his impression of Diakem.

A powerful warrior himself, Kil’Jaeden admired such courage.

Yet, this was mere curiosity.

Compared to his true concerns, a minor figure like Diakem did not merit lengthy discourse.

He aided Velen in completing Diakem’s rescue and instructed the guards to send the heroic warden to priests for the best treatment.

When only he and Velen remained in the ritual chamber, Kil’Jaeden voiced his worries.

Holding the Naaru’s holy staff, wrapped in Light and faintly projecting a triangular emblem behind him, Velen patiently listened.

He felt the warmth of his brother’s concern, which touched his soul deeply.

Looking at his brother with gentle eyes, Velen spoke only after Kil’Jaeden openly expressed fear that the Light might blind his wisdom:

“I am not afraid of falling into blind faith.”

“You are too confident! Almost blind arrogance,” Kil’Jaeden scolded sharply.

“I have seen many wise casters, upon becoming Light priests, quickly fall into binding themselves with Light’s doctrines and laws instead of seeking enlightenment through wisdom.

“Their failures are the greatest source of rift between the arcane tradition and the Light faith in Eredar society. Arcanists believe the spread of the Light makes people foolish and blindly obedient. I do not say faith in the Light makes one stupid.

“But in fact, they do become poor thinkers.

“Your wisdom is the Eredar’s treasure, brother!

“I cannot allow such a thing to happen, and you cannot simply ignore the issue out of confidence... You must have concrete measures.”

“I am not afraid of falling into blind faith...” Velen repeated his earlier words.

Amid Kil’Jaeden’s slight anger, he added:

“Because you stand by me, brother! I believe that whenever I lose myself through faith, you are the first to pull me back on track. I trust you far more than I trust myself.

“I do need a way to maintain reason, and no method is more effective than your supervision.”

This sincere and frank reply left Kil’Jaeden speechless for a moment.

Yet, his heart was joyful and content. He felt a spiritual warmth, like a gentle stream nourishing his soul, reminiscent of the long years of mutual support between them.

He shook his head and joked:

“So, without me around, you always get into trouble, huh?”

“Yes, Kil’Jaeden. Without your help, how would I survive? Just like those years ago during the ‘Shattered Plague,’ when together we prevented the catastrophe from spreading through civilization. Your courage and my wisdom always find solutions.

“Not only the people believe this, but I do as well.”

Velen replied playfully.

The two old friends, bonded for five thousand years, laughed heartily.

Kil’Jaeden supported the weary Velen as they left the ritual chamber. He would handle the remaining matters here; his brother needed rest.

“After these leftover affairs, come to my home for dinner,” Velen invited before leaving.

“My wife and children want to see you. You know, they consider you family. You may recall how, when my son was young and I was busy, he even called you father for a time...”

“Children are like that. Their innocence lets them distinguish kindness from malice more clearly,” Kil’Jaeden waved off.

“But you’re in trouble, Velen. You’ll have to explain to your family why you left and returned glowing like this. I’m sure the kids will be terrified until you learn to control the Light you radiate tonight.”

Velen did not deny it. A humble leader, he agreed his radiant appearance was a bit over the top. After a few final instructions, he left under the protection of several Chosen of the Light.

Kil’Jaeden remained long amidst the ruins of the ritual chamber.

Hands clasped behind his back, he gazed upon the scarred wasteland wrought by the battle between Holy Light and fel energy. Determination and resolve flickered in his eyes.

Whether fel or Light, if you wish to conquer this world by war and destroy this civilization, then you must... first cross over my dead body as its leader! Even if I fall, Velen will remain with the Eredar to resist.

Until you fail—or we perish!