42. Argus, Please Do Not Cry

Under immense pressure, Velen and Hator operated with extraordinary efficiency.

Just a few hours later, leveraging the communication network among the naaru vessels, they initiated an online assembly of all Eredar archons.

Governors and archons from every reachable starship were invited to participate. This governance framework had been planned out prior to the evacuation of the civilians.

The Eredar revered order and were accustomed to being led by the archon system. Even now, with their civilization fractured into hundreds of interstellar clans, the archon system could still deploy highly efficient mobilization and organizational capabilities.

However, the situation aboard the naaru vessel named the *Oath of Sanctity* was somewhat complicated.

Governor Hator was originally the leader of that ship, but he had participated in the rescue operation initiated by Commander Kil'jaeden, which directly resulted in a temporary vacancy for an archon on that vessel.

Fortunately, Hator had made arrangements before leaving, so the ship's magistrate and the commander of the peacekeepers attended the meeting in his stead.

Velen, presiding over the meeting, did not waste time. He briefly conveyed his blessings and admonitions to the various governors and archons, provided a summary of the current situation, and then forwarded the proposal from the Mother of Light, Xe'ra, regarding the establishment of the Army of the Light and the starry Lightforged fleet.

Since the recruitment drive within this proposal could only begin after all Eredar arrived at their respective destination planets, it was a matter directly concerning the interests of the exiles on every starship.

Velen required the governors and archons to hold a brief discussion and complete a vote, ultimately confirming whether they would join the Army of the Light based on the results.

Given the short time for deliberation, it was impossible to thoroughly debate all the benefits and obligations, making this largely a formality.

Under the current circumstances where the Eredar were forced into division, Velen's proposal of such a model was clearly laying a preventive groundwork for long-term unity among the various clans.

The Eredar were not lacking in similar experience and wisdom.

Before the Second Triumvirate began, their civilization had long existed in a fractured state. Most of these elderly governors and archons had lived through that era, and they understood the importance of maintaining diplomacy amidst such division.

Just as the communications fell into a brief silence, a voice suddenly rang out.

Admiral Sfulax, speaking as the archon of her starship, was the first to address the assembly:

"I am willing to join the Army of the Light and do my utmost to lead the Lightforged fleet retrofitted from the naaru vessels! In making this decision, I am driven by duty to my people, not by personal ambition.

"Only when that fleet remains firmly in Eredar hands can we ensure that if any of our clans face a demonic invasion, the other clans and the main body of the Army of the Light can reinforce them at the fastest possible speed.

"If joining them requires the worship of the Light, then I and my battle-captains are prepared to convert immediately!

"In fact, speaking as a military commander, I urge the other governors and archons: even if you agree to let your respective clans join the Army of the Light, under no circumstances should you draft the most experienced veterans and priests from your ships into military service!

"These warriors are vital to our people's security upon reaching the new worlds; we must never place the duty of saving the cosmos above the survival of our own kin!

"Perhaps that sounds selfish.

"Yet I believe that only by taking care of our own people first do we earn the luxury of looking after innocent strangers.

"These are critical times, so I will mince no words. I direct this specifically to those governors and archons who have already embraced the Light: I hope you strike the proper balance between faith and reality!

"Above all else, you are archons and commanders of the Eredar; only secondarily are you disciples of the Light!

"If you fancy yourselves zealots who place faith above everything else, I suggest you resign immediately and let a more rational official lead our destined-to-be-scattered and hard-pressed people."

The words were remarkably blunt.

Yet they won the approval of many governors and archons, including Hator.

Given the current desperate state of Eredar civilization, they indeed had to guarantee their own safety first before sparing any effort to contribute to the formation of the Army of the Light.

Velen's expression at that moment was somewhat subtle.

On one hand, he agreed with Sfulax's advice, recognizing in her words the pure dedication of a soldier and a sense of duty toward her people.

On the other hand, he felt that this brilliantly decorated military officer was somewhat reckless.

You are currently using the fleet communication channels maintained by the naaru. Speaking your mind so bluntly may feel cathartic to you, but how do you expect the naaru—who have already joined the Army of the Light—to feel?

*Ah, the wisdom of the elders truly holds weight. Pure soldiers are better off staying out of politics.*

"Well, if everyone has considered the matter clearly, let us proceed to a vote on the proposal," Velen said, casting an affirmative vote on behalf of the *Xenedar*.

The naaru used radiant beams of light to represent votes, allowing the various governors to watch the beams of agreement multiply rapidly.

Clearly, even the most rational governors harbored smoldering anger under these circumstances, not to mention that they genuinely needed a powerful armed force to ensure a tragedy like the fall of Argus would never recur.

Thus, the proposal to join the Army of the Light was successfully passed.

This signified that the Eredar had no intention of forgetting the enmity forged with the demons in their homeworld of Argus. This once gentle and wise race had chosen, through collective decision, to embark upon the path of vengeance.

The psychology behind it was easy to understand: *Our home is already destroyed, so why would we fear you bunch of idiot demons?*

*Come on!*

*Let us fight to the death!*

Yet this was not the end. Once the proposal for the Army of the Light passed, Velen shared the ideas he had just discussed with Governor Hator with the rest of the governors. His ship, the *Xenedar*, must shoulder immense responsibility, using sacrificial courage to draw the gaze of the demons and guarantee long-term peace and stability for the other starship immigrants for a period of time.

Velen himself was uncertain how long their ship could endure under demonic pursuit.

However, considering that the demons had not yet developed mature interstellar fel technology, the Grand Archon estimated he could buy at least a millennium of resettlement time.

"The *Xenedar* will reduce speed. We will seek out uncivilized worlds as waypoints and resting places, drawing the attention of the Burning Legion in this manner. We shall be the vanguard sentinels guarding our people through this dark age, responsible for scouting and assessing the interstellar situation, and sharing this intelligence with the planets of the other clans through the sacred naaru communications network.

"Once the Burning Legion initiates large-scale destruction, you must all enter a state of high alert.

"The three guardian naaru aboard the *Xenedar* have agreed to my proposal, pledging with immense courage and protective instinct to share our fate.

"I believe this is the blessing of the Light."

Velen said in a deep voice:

"Yet I still cannot guarantee that the *Xenedar* will secure enough time for our people. Therefore, upon arriving at your respective destination planets, every governor and archon must resettle our people with the utmost speed, allowing Eredar civilization to take root on as many worlds as possible.

"You each hold documents concerning the world-soul and fragments of the world-will—secrets known only to governors and archons.

"You understand deeply that every Eredar carries a mission toward our homeworld. This requires us to protect every single compatriot as we would protect ourselves, and demands that we avoid all meaningless conflicts and wars whenever possible.

"Yet if war proves truly unavoidable, we must strike with thunderous force to eliminate the threat!

"Once the Army of the Light is established, a mature warrior selection system must also be put on the agenda. We need our people to retain their courage, and must never allow them to sink into temporary complacency.

"Most importantly, to ensure the better preservation of the world-soul's will and the healthy inheritance of our civilization, we must find ways to increase our population...

"Uh, as for that, the governors and archons will have to figure it out yourselves."

"But Grand Archon, the responsibilities borne by the *Xenedar* are far too perilous," Archon Velara said over the comms.

"Your ship still carries a majority of civilians; they are unsuited for such a dangerous exile. I propose that each starship detach a portion of its warriors to transfer to the *Xenedar*, while distributing an equivalent number of civilians to your respective ships.

"This will effectively increase the survival rate of the Grand Archon and his brave followers.

"They will need to continually entangle with demons, and without the blessing of world-power, our warriors will find that difficult to sustain."

"The distances between the starships are currently too great, and the demons could strike again at any moment. We have no time to waste on such logistics," Velen refused.

"Therefore, it will suffice for the few starships traveling along the same route as the *Xenedar* to take on some civilians. Our people have all survived the disaster of Argus, and their fury needs an outlet. I believe that after training, our people can equally become outstanding warriors.

"Now, that is all that needs to be said, compatriots.

"I will not hide from you the terrible sacrifice made by my brother, Commander Kil'jaeden, to preserve us.

"This is bad news.

"The Burning Legion possesses new commanders and generals, and perhaps in the future, we will meet our former kin upon the battlefield.

"That will be a true tragedy.

"Yet we all know that we bear a responsibility to our civilization and our people.

"Therefore, should that day truly arrive, grant our kin a swift end in accordance with Eredar tradition, and bless their lost souls.

"Though the Eredar will be fractured into various clans by this disaster, and may even grow estranged from one another over long periods of separation, I firmly believe! As long as we remember Argus! As long as the Heart of the World in our hands continues to be passed down, we are still advancing along different paths toward the same goal.

"My friends...

"I wish you a safe journey! May your clans thrive and prosper!

"We shall meet again on Argus!

"This is the *Xenedar*, the Draenei clan, signing off."

"May courage endure among you all! May victory forever accompany you! We shall meet again on Argus," Admiral Sfulax bade farewell in a sorrowful voice.

"This is the *Oath of Sanctity*, the Eredas clan, signing off."

"May none of you forget your original intent! May you ultimately find peace! We shall meet again on Argus. This is the *Pure Light*, the Krokuun clan, signing off."

Farewells filled with blessings and hope, yet heavy with pain and sorrow, echoed across the communication channels.

The governors and archons had each chosen concepts they deemed most vital, most memorable, or impossible to forget as the new names for the Eredar clans aboard each starship.

Each transmission marked the Eredar stepping onto the arduous path of civilizational division. Yet this was not their fault—it was merely the first imprint branded upon them by the dawning age of darkness.

This scene was destined to be forever engraved in Eredar history, provided they could indeed rebuild their homeland and reclaim their heritage one day in the future.

Velen stood before the navigation console in prolonged silence, while Governor Hator repeatedly wiped at his eyes.

Not until the farewells of the final starship concluded, and the communications maintained by the naaru faded into a long silence, did this parting officially end.

Yet fate did not even intend to grant these departing exiles any further respite. Moments later, Nalee—who had been appointed the ranger commander of the *Xenedar*—walked into the navigation console holding a box.

She stepped forward, handed the box to Velen, and said:

"Grand Archon, these are the fragments of the Ata'mal Crystal we collected. The twins have just tested them; proven by fact, the ancient relics retain their magical power even after shattering. These six crystals each possess great might, enough to safeguard our journey."

"Oh?"

Velen turned around in surprise, pulling himself out of his sorrow. He gazed at the colorful crystals within the box, and under a certain inspiration, he reached out and picked up the purple crystal.

The moment this object touched his hand, layers of visions instantly flashed before Velen's eyes.

He saw an extinguished planet, and then beheld an endless radiance of holy light igniting upon a dark earth at the call of a Draenei priest.

A prophecy!

The gift of prophecy was activated once more, revealing to Velen the first tribulation the *Xenedar* was destined to encounter.

Recovering from the vision, he looked at the crystal in his hand and said:

"Indeed, the ancient relics still protect us. But to my memory, there should be seven clusters of the Ata'mal Crystal. Why is one missing?"

"Um."

Nalee hesitated for a moment, pointing toward the sarcophagus placed beside the navigation console, and said:

"Priest Ishana has confirmed that the fragment of the Ata'mal Crystal most closely connected to the Holy Light is currently inside the body of Brigadier General Diakm. To be precise, that crystal appears to have undergone a special form of 'symbiosis' with his heart.

"That highly destructive white holy flame we saw earlier was bestowed by that crystal."

"Ah, this is the supreme will of the Light." Velen was not disheartened by this.

Instead, leaning upon his staff of the Redeemer, he walked over to Dick's sarcophagus, gazed at this "young" peacekeeper brigadier general, and after a moment of silence, said:

"The people need a symbol of hope to inspire courage; only with courage can one possibly traverse the perilous journey ahead.

"I believe Diakm and his contributions have earned him the honor of being named a 'Saint.' Although such a strongly religious honor existed only in the mythological ages tens of thousands of years ago, it is time for us to revive these ancient traditions!

"It was Diakm who first discovered the threat of evil while we remained blind and deaf, and it was he who brought the enlightenment of the Light when we lost all hope.

"We should revere him and look forward to his future awakening!

"Yes!

"The Eredar respect heroes!

"In this dark age, nothing inspires the people more than the great deeds of a hero. Hator, my friend, what do you think of this proposal?"

Velen turned to look at Governor Hator, who nodded, wiping his eyes as he said:

"My child shall become a saint shielding our civilization; nothing could be more comforting to my soul. Perhaps we should..."

*Clack.*

The hatch of the navigation console suddenly opened.

Lady Devonius, the solemn-faced Chosen of the Light, strode forward and handed over a special box with both hands.

She said:

"This object was launched from the surface of Argus into the starry sea. The naaru K'ara believes this was an item specifically meant to be delivered to us. It carries a certain magical effect; you must decide how we should handle it."

"Let me see."

Velen accepted the archaic box, styled like an Ougrai treasure chest. The moment he touched it, he sighed.

"It was sent by Kil'jaeden. This is his favorite magical satchel."

With practiced motions, he unraveled the magical enchantments upon the box. The instant it opened, both he and Hator clenched their fists.

Inside lay a fractured crest of light, preserved using the finest Arcanite crystal as a vessel.

It was the shattered Crest of the Grand Archon—the second most noble badge of Eredar leadership, held by none other than Velen himself.

Kil'jaeden, having stepped onto a dark destiny, no longer had any use for it.

"Is this a warning?" Hator asked.

"Or... a farewell?"

"Both," Velen sighed.

"He is telling us in this manner that the demons have a way to track us, reminding us that we must proceed with greater caution; and he is warning us that the pursuit of the Burning Legion will soon arrive. It is time to depart."

The Grand Archon looked once more toward the boundless, dark starry sea before him. With a sigh, he handed this badge of leadership to Hator, saying:

"I am no tactician, Hator. You are far better at this than I am. You shall inherit this badge of command."

"Me?"

Governor Hator was somewhat flustered. He said:

"I am not qualified. The Grand Archon must be chosen by the people..."

"Hator! You must shoulder this responsibility," Velen said in a deep voice.

"The Dual Triumvirate is our tradition! In difficult times, we must cooperate to better guide the way forward. I also need a trusted compatriot to command our warriors. Who else here is more suited than you—a Krokuun whose skull is as hard as a talbuk's?"

Hator fell silent.

As a pastoral man indifferent to fame and fortune, he had originally intended to refuse this heavy honor. But finally looking back at Dick inside the sarcophagus, he gritted his teeth and accepted the fractured badge of leadership.

Upon crushing the Arcanite crystal, the shattered crest transferred to Hator's forehead, reshaping itself after a few breaths to emit a faint glow.

He would not fail his people! Nor would he fail his child!

***

"Ah, so boring. Just how long do I have to sleep before I wake up?"

Dick had no idea he had been canonized as a "Saint" of the Draenei clan. If he had known, he surely would have rejected such an exaggerated title, considering how few saints in history met a good end.

The problem, however, was that he currently had no way to communicate with the outside world.

Having witnessed Muldren use Divine Intervention to save him, only to be reduced to ashes in the roaring flames, Dick had remained consumed by extreme rage throughout his subsequent unconsciousness. He had wanted nothing more than to leap up and incinerate a hundred or a thousand demons. Yet due to a wondrous physiological reaction within his body, his spirit had become trapped "between life and death."

This was a gray, misty realm—an endless spiritual world where he was entirely alone.

He had tried every method at his disposal, yet remained unable to establish any contact with the outside world.

Worst of all, this ghost of a place lacked the concept of "time." Dick had no idea how long had passed in the external world. Sitting cross-legged in this empty expanse, he felt that if he didn't find something to do, he might well go mad.

He sat there, watching the character sheet light curtain materialize before his eyes:

Name: Diakm Justins
Title: Bane of the Superior Defiler, Hand of Argus
Honorary Title: Vigilant (Enhanced detection capabilities, increased sensitivity to forces other than the Holy Light)
Race: Eredar
Special Race: Mythical Being · Child of the Light Mutant (Transforming · Transformation Degree: Low)
Life Tier: Legendary
Status: Near Death [Missing Torso, Organ Failure, Shattered Heart, Foreign Object Fusion]
Class: Peacekeeper Brigadier General [Eredar Exclusive] / High Priest / None
Legendary Class: None (Awaiting choice, optional: Herald of the Sun / Lightforged / Archon)
Power Affiliation: Force of the Light
Force Morality: Hand of Destiny
Racial Traits:
Energy Affinity, Heroic Aura, Advanced Shadow Resistance, Legacy of L'ura (Unactivated), Radiant Body (Unactivated, Divine Arbiter (Unactivated).
Personal Traits:
Peacekeeper Tactics, Defender, Spellbreaker, Elder's Intimidation, Echo of the Light, Art of War, Zealous Devotion, Lightforged Armory, Drawn Light.
Legendary Traits:
Ashbringer, Lightforged Knight, Swords to Light (Unactivated), Radiant Sun (Unactivated).
Prompt!
Your body is undergoing a peculiar and unknown transformation amidst the shrouding of naaru fragments and the fusion of the Ata'mal Crystal. This process requires a lengthy period to complete, and the exact end time cannot currently be predicted.
Comprehensive Evaluation:
A barely qualified emissary of the Light?
Character Evaluation:
[Are you fucking kidding me? You got yourself into this miserable state just fighting a pre-ascension Xal'atath—oh wait, Sophiar? How is the organization supposed to count on you for greater challenges and arduous duties in the future?
If you can't hack it, just surrender!
There's no shame in it.
Anyway, given the trajectory of fate you've interfered with to this extent, the 'history' you'll face hereafter will be even more exaggerated than in your memory. Ha, the butterfly has already begun flapping its wings; given time to slowly nurture, it will eventually yield either a freak of nature or a miracle.
In short, act presentable from now on!
I've placed a heavy bet on you. If you make me lose money, you'll be hearing from me!
Now, use this hard-earned time to think, ponder, and you'd better practice your pathetic skills. For a method actor not to have unlocked that many high-tier skills—don't tell people you're with us when you go out.
Have some shame, you understand?]

"What the fuck!"

Dick saw that infuriating commentary once more.

If he weren't currently unable to locate that foul-mouthed bastard, he would have picked up his gem-encrusted warhammer and fought him for several hundred rounds. Yet upon calming down, he realized his current situation.

*Hiss,* this issue was indeed a bit serious.

The character sheet showed he was undergoing some unknown transformation—how did even his "race" change?

Moreover, Dick had already discovered that despite the harsh words of the "foul-mouthed entity" behind the character sheet, every piece of criticism cleverly concealed a hint. As long as Dick was sharp enough, he could glean some guidance from it.

For instance, right now, it was reminding him to make good use of this time...

"So, its meaning is for me to use this place to practice my skills?"

Dick stood up and began attempting to shape things within this gray spiritual world. Following the flow of his memories, an illusory Fel Guard was forged right before his eyes.

"Ha! I knew it, a training ground."

Dick limbered up, conjured a warhammer through sheer willpower, and glanced at his skill bar on the character sheet. Although the proficiency of most skills had reached "Mastery," facts proved there were even higher levels of proficiency beyond Mastery.

Raising the proficiency of all these skills required massive amounts of time and thorough practice—two things that happened to be the only things he possessed in abundance right now.

Before diving into combat, however, he glanced at his unselected legendary class. This choice had to be made carefully, as it directly related to his future professional development and combat style.

The Archon class was eliminated first!

That was a heroic class for priests, heavily leaning toward healing and spellcasting. With that, Dick would be reduced to a "cowardly weakling who fears melee combat."

Next, the Lightforged class was eliminated.

It wasn't that this heroic class lacked sheer power; it was primarily because its alignment leaned closer to the defensive side. Dick hadn't even figured out the Path of Retribution yet; how could he spare the energy to open up a "Protection Paladin" career path?

Besides, if he remembered correctly, for a time this heroic class was called "Light Smith"... although walking the path of the Light meant he didn't care much for others' evaluations, that lacked way too much style.

Therefore, the only option left for him was the "Herald of the Sun."

"Fine, fine, you'll have to do."

Dick sighed, initiating the class change while muttering:

"Of course, advancing forcibly before mastering the dual-class proficiencies results in fewer options. What about the cooler 'Void Weaver'? What about the more mystical 'Oracle'? What about the far more badass 'Templar'?

"We agreed that two career systems should provide six heroic classes to choose from, so why did I only get three?

"Could it be the Light thinks I'm unsuited for those overly flashy classes?

"No way!"

Amidst such grumbling, Dick completed his class change within this virtual spiritual world.

As the path of the Herald of the Sun opened up, he rolled his shoulders and channeled the Holy Light like a rising dawn. Amidst that dazzling and magnificent morning glow, Dick gripped his warhammer, motioned with a finger toward the Fel Guard before him, and said:

"Come on, demon spawn, let's play with your granddaddy of the Light... Once I wake up from my nap, I'm going to slaughter every last one of you!"

***