3. Our living saint's first request after waking up... is a massive release upon publication [6/50]

The battle concluded swiftly, its process far more relaxed and less brutally bloody than Yrel had imagined.

The moment Commodore Dyk plunged into the fray with his new "attachment," claiming thirteen heads within ten seconds with swift, decisive strikes, the nature of the ambush initiated by the Orcs underwent a fundamental shift.

The hunters transformed into the hunted in a fraction of a second, and the ruthless commodore clearly had no intention of letting a single one escape. In other words, the Orcs now had to fight merely to survive.

"Warriors! Surround them! Cut off their escape routes. We have already suffered casualties, so I order you: grant no quarter!"

The commodore delivered his brutal and cold command in a very elegant, archaic Eredar tongue. The besieged vindicators and rangers were momentarily stunned, but soon someone gasped in astonishment, "The Great Vigilant has returned!"

Realizing who was issuing their commands, the morale of the besieged Draenei elite instantly skyrocketed.

While their living saint initiated a flesh-and-blood storm of peerless slaughter among the Orcs with exaggerated combat postures, these well-trained warriors immediately scattered according to the saint's instructions.

Those idiotic Orcs had indeed chosen a prime ambush location; favorable terrain meant it was exceedingly difficult for the ambushed targets to flee. However, the roles were now reversed, which also meant the Orcs found it nearly impossible to break out of a battlefield rapidly morphing into a hell of holy light.

Generally speaking, vindicators lacked large-scale offensive capabilities. After all, they belonged to a melee class, falling short of mages who could manipulate arcane energies to unleash sweeping area-of-control and destruction spells.

Yet Dyk was clearly no ordinary individual. Putting aside his signature, wide-range Divine Storm, and the heavy casualties inflicted by halos and cascading torrents of Holy Nova that replaced standard tactics, the two area-of-effect abilities inherent to the battered yet still functional Staff of Kazzak's Grasp in his hand were more than enough to give these Orcs a devastating taste of ruin.

The Vigilant had originally forged this staff precisely to compensate for his lack of large-scale destructive power, meaning both of its intrinsic traits were entirely dedicated to multi-target assault.

The most wondrous part was that this artifact released demonic powers through melee kills.

With every single thrust that took a life, a sweeping wave of elemental curses was applied. Piercing ten foes summoned a barrage of infernal fire. Moreover, following the second slaying of Kazzak, a sliver of the Doom Lord's soul had been extracted and sealed within, directly upgrading the staff's quality and consequently elevating its destructive output.

What came crashing down now was no longer a mere rain of infernal fire, but a veritable meteor spell.

Surrounded entirely by Dyk with all avenues of retreat sealed, the Orcs were forced into a desperate, do-or-die struggle against the Butcher of the Holy Light. However, they quickly grasped the true, terrifying weight of the moniker bestowed upon them by the demons.

When the final Orc warlock, his face twisted in utter terror, had his legs severed by Dyk's instantaneous Sword of Justice and was left screaming as he dragged himself across the ground, the scene before his eyes had become a literal hell.

The ferocious felhounds summoned by their own kind dared not even approach the Draenei saint, whose entire body was wreathed in burning white holy flames. The typically brutal demons wailed in panic, fleeing blindly back into the Twisting Nether as if encountering some ultimate natural predator.

Was a sight this traumatic something a mere warlock could endure?

The Orc warlock's sanity shattered on the spot, immediately followed by Yrel charging forward with a shriek and cleaving off his head with her axe.

The young recruit was intensely nervous, but upon securing this first kill, she finally let out a breath of relief. For as the battle drew to a close, she had at last performed somewhat decently. Oh, you people simply have no idea how difficult it is to snatch a couple of kills right out from under the nose of the berserk Vigilant Saint.

"What are you doing? The battle isn't over yet—why are you wearing that foolish grin?"

A stern voice rang out from behind Yrel as the Vigilant reprimanded her:

"You killed the warlock yet failed to destroy his soulstone? Do you intend to let such a lackey of the demons go unpunished? Smash that purple stone in his embrace and utterly obliterate the soul of this demon worshipper!

Immediately!"

Chastised, Yrel did not dare delay. She bent down at once, retrieved the sinister soulstone from the Orc warlock's chest, and, nursing a trace of grievance, swung her battleaxe to smash the trinket into powder. Only when the warlock's soul dissipated amidst a shriek of agony did Yrel finally exhale, collapsing backward to sit flat on the ground.

This blunder truly could not be blamed entirely on her.

Today marked not only her first encounter with a warlock, but her very first time on a battlefield.

She felt her performance had already been quite commendable.

Yet the Vigilant Saint's standards for a "recruit" clearly differed vastly from Yrel's own understanding of the term.

"Salutations to you! Great Vigilant, Radiant Saint..."

A blood-drenched vindicator captain rushed over in great agitation to pay homage to Dyk, but before she could finish rattling off her exaggerated, menu-like string of titles, Dyk waved a hand to cut her off.

He seemed to have been transported back to the Thirty-Day Decisive Battle of Argus, radiating a grim, formidable aura as he said in a deep voice:

"Gather these corpses! Put a merciful end to any still breathing, chop off their heads, and pile them together! I know you sacrificed a brother; we have lost a precious member of our kin. This death must be remembered!

Use the skulls of these thugs to escort our compatriots on their final journey."

"Ah?"

This command completely baffled the vindicator captain.

This...

Building a traditional skull pyramid after achieving victory felt a bit excessively brutal, didn't it?

Especially for followers of the Holy Light, this...

"Execute the order, soldier!"

Dyk emphasized heavily:

"I do not know how your era deals with enemies, but on the battlefields of Argus, this is how we did it. We believe this allows the heroic spirits of our compatriots to return safely to the realm of the Holy Light. It is both a commemoration and a deterrence!

Listen to me, child. If such a brutal tower of skulls can frighten even a single Orc, if it causes hesitation born of terror the next time they wish to harm our kin, then it is worth it.

Go! Execute the order!

By the way, send the ranger from your squad over here. I have questions for her."

"As you command, Vigilant!"

The vindicator captain pondered for a moment, ultimately feeling that the saint's reasoning held a measure of validity.

Leaving these Orc corpse carcasses scattered about would only pollute the environment and potentially trigger a plague anyway. Gathering them together for a massive cremation was far better; constructing a skull pyramid sounded savage, but from a standpoint of deterrence, it was remarkably practical.

Most importantly, the recent reactions from the Orc side had been highly abnormal.

Regardless of what the higher-ups thought, as a grassroots commander, she felt it was indeed time to adopt a much tougher stance against Orcish provocations.

Soon, while Dyk sat upon a rock pondering how to repair his combat staff, the leg-wounded ranger limped over. She too held deep reverence for the Vigilant and was about to perform her own version of the title-recitation when Dyk waved her words away.

The Vigilant gazed at the familiar insignia upon the ranger's armor. With a trace of hesitation and trepidation, he asked softly:

"Nari... Is she well?"

"Are you referring to Archprelate Nari?"

The ranger sat stunned for several seconds.

Then, a wild, internal roar erupted within her mind: *Holy shit! Holy shit! Were those third-rate romance stories circulating among the common folk about the Vigilant and the Archprelate actually true? The very first question the Vigilant asked upon resurrection was whether Archprelate Nari was safe and sound!*

*Holy shit!*

*This ship is so sweet my pancreas can't handle the insulin!*

*It's been twenty years! Two whole decades in a coma, yet he still holds her in his heart! If this isn't true love, I'll swallow all three gem-inlaid hand crossbows hidden on my body right now!*

Even having just survived a harrowing battle, the ranger's eyes brimmed instantly with burning, gossipy fervor. She hesitated briefly before whispering:

"Archprelate Nari should still be holding the line at the Ranger Enclave in Elodor. That place is the training ground and stronghold of the ranger caste, as well as the location of the Sha'tari Altar, the holy site of the Auchenai priests.

Earlier, the Orcs launched a harassing raid against it, but they were beaten back by the Archprelate and her forces.

Afterward, we received orders to escort the holy sarcophagus...

Oh, right. When the Orcs launched their probing assault against us, the proposal to immediately relocate your holy sarcophagus to the safer Karabor Temple was also put forward by Archprelate Nari at the council of prelates.

What I mean is, our Archprelate cares deeply about you as well."

"Hmm?"

Dyk caught the peculiar tone in the ranger's voice. He straightened his expression and said:

"What are you implying, soldier? You might as well speak more plainly...

It is not as you think. Nari and I are old friends who have entrusted our lives to one another. After I interrogated servants of the Shadow Council and learned that a traitor walks among our kin, I had to immediately find the most trustworthy person in an era that feels entirely foreign to me."

"What?"

The ranger was shocked once more, gasping aloud:

"You mean this ambush wasn't a whim of the Orcs, but the result of a Draenei informant leaking intelligence? Who is it! Such colossal audacity!"

"We are the proud Eredar... Ah, never mind. Call yourselves whatever you wish."

Dyk shook his head, brushing aside such trivial details. He rubbed his chin and said gravely:

"It is still impossible to determine which caste the traitor hails from, but they must hold a high station among our people. Therefore, you must keep this confidential. Right now, I trust only Velden, Haddon, Jaed, and Nari!

Everyone else remains under suspicion in my eyes.

Can you communicate with Nari?"

"My Arcanite communication stone was destroyed in the battle just now. However, Embaari Village should have a stationary communication apparatus."

The ranger cast a wary glance back at her vindicator teammates and murmured softly:

"Before the ambush began, I transmitted a signal. Given the distance between here and Embaari Village, the stationed vindicators and priests should have already arrived, yet there has been no movement from them.

Hence, I suspect Embaari Village may have also come under attack. That village lies far too close to the fortress of the Shadowmoon Clan. If this is a coordinated operation, the situation in Embaari Village right now is likely quite dire."

"Hmm."

Dyk nodded, acknowledging this assessment, and asked further:

"Can you still fight?"

"Of course we can! Saint."

The ranger patted her chest, speaking loudly:

"We are all elite warriors! Rigorously trained, and coupled with your divine descent, we have plenty of stamina remaining and can rejoin the fight at any moment."

"Uh..."

Dyk cast a peculiar glance at the supremely confident ranger and said:

"Go rally your compatriots, have them accelerate the cleanup of the battlefield, and then follow me out to reinforce Embaari Village!"

"Understood."

The ranger turned and left, just as Yrel approached the saint, shouldering her battleaxe. She overheard the saint muttering softly to himself:

"So, the threshold for Nari and the others to select elites has dropped this low now? These self-proclaimed 'elites' would barely reach the level of recruits back in the War of Argus.

To think the martial virtue of the Draenei has become so utterly pathetic. No wonder they are getting beaten this badly by the Orcs."

Hearing this plunged Yrel into an even deeper despair regarding her future career as a warrior.

Good grief!

You hold even elite vindicators in such utter contempt; when on earth will a rookie like me ever catch your eye?

"Embaari Village has been attacked, child."

Dyk rose, gripping his fractured battle staff, and said to Yrel:

"You need to prepare to fall back and support us."

"Oh no, Samara!"

Yrel jolted, spinning around to bolt, only for Dyk to reach out and press down on her shoulder. In an instant, she was hoisted straight into the air, her legs kicking helplessly—a scene that looked utterly absurd.

"Calm yourself! You can accomplish nothing by running back alone!"

Dyk reprimanded:

"Go to that fallen vindicator, put on his armor, and retrieve his weapon. I need you to maintain your combat readiness. I can shatter those Orcs, but rescuing civilians is a task for you."

"But my sister..."

"If you cannot calm yourself, then she is truly doomed. At a time like this, you must trust the strength of the collective. Go don the armor; we move out shortly. Afterwards, you will follow the vindicator captain's orders and are forbidden from wandering off on your own.

The primary rule for a recruit is to obey orders and follow commands!"

Dyk set Yrel back down on the ground and told the nervous young woman:

"Perhaps you can attempt to summon the Holy Light here, condense your righteous path, and truly step onto the path of a vindicator. That way, you will receive the blessing of the Light in battle, which will help you better locate and protect your sister."

"But... but I haven't passed the vindicator trials. I only trained with Officer T努姆 in the village for a short time. Will the Light truly answer me?"

Yrel said with a hint of worry:

"Besides, I know that for a vindicator to condense their righteous path requires at least several years of bitter cultivation and enlightenment. According to the current commands of the Vindicator caste's leader, Archprelate Akama, without a thorough understanding of the *Vindicator Codex*, a recruit attempting to condense their path rashly will face severe risks."

"Who said that?"

Dyk's eyes widened in disbelief:

"Does such a thing require bitter cultivation and enlightenment? As long as your will to protect, rescue, or punish is sufficiently steadfast, and you are willing to take an oath to the Holy Light to uphold its precepts for life, can you not condense your path?

What on earth has happened to your traditions over these years?!

Why add so many meaningless rituals to such a fundamental training module?

The Light does not require you to spend years memorizing scriptures and praying to It. With that time, you would be far better off cutting down a few more enemies of the Light to truly please It.

So, exactly which idiot established these tedious rules?"

Faced with Dyk's angry inquiry, Yrel lowered her head in deep embarrassment. While scraping the ground with her toes, she whispered:

"Um... the initial reforms of the Vindicator caste were advanced by Archprelate Akama. That... I heard he is one of your followers, and he often says he derived enlightenment regarding the Holy Light from your stories.

He believed that vindicators must learn from you, deconstructing and contemplating the Light more deeply amidst rigorous training. This effectively enhances a vindicator's affinity with the Light and elevates their combat power."

"???"

Dyk stared blankly at Yrel, dumbfounded, and said:

"So, recruit Akama advanced these flashy, superficial reforms in my name? Fine, he used to be a priest; I can understand his piety toward his faith, but this idiot clearly went a bit 'overboard'!"

"Ah, you used a curse word! That violates the Vindicator Codex..."

"Shut up! The Light hasn't scolded me for running my mouth, so you little girl can ignore such trivialities. Now go put on your armor and get ready. I will personally guide you in condensing your Holy Path."

"O-okay!"

Yrel dropped the Orc battleaxe and scampered off, swishing her little tail to gather the remains of the fallen vindicator.

Dyk sat back upon the rock, watching not far away as the vindicators carried out his orders. The Orc corpses were dragged together and set ablaze, their severed heads piled into a crooked, jagged tower of skulls.

This spectacle made Dyk shake his head repeatedly.

Alas, the "traditional craftsmanship" of building skull pyramids with demon heads back on Argus had failed to be passed down. What a pity.

Taking advantage of the moment, he stroked his forehead and summoned his character sheet to carefully examine his attributes:

Name: Diakm Justins

Title: Senior Defiler Bane, Hand of Argus

Honorary Title: The Vigilant

Race: Eredar

Special Race: Scion of the Holy Light · Mythic Racial Mutant (Transforming)

Life Tier: Legendary · Mid-Tier

Status: Energy Overload (Super-massive holy power accumulated and congested, extreme risk of loss of control, please discharge as soon as possible!)

Class: Vindicator Commodore / High Priest / None

Legendary Class: Herald of the Sun

Power Affiliation: Prime Holy Light

Force Path: Hand of Destiny

Racial Traits:

Energy Affinity, Heroic Aura, Advanced Shadow Resistance.

Legacy of K'ure: Due to Naaru races leaning toward spellcasting sequences, your Intelligence, Spirit, Stamina, Holy Light Affinity, and Energy Manipulation attributes have been elevated to the 'Legendary · Upper' tier.

Radiant Body: Inherited 70% of Naaru K'ure's personal radiant energy pool upper limit and holy power load.

Divine Arbiter: Inherited Naaru racial characteristics. Activating this trait actively unleashes a large-scale "Holy Power Bombardment" on a designated target area; before your personal radiant energy pool is depleted, this trait has no cooldown.

Personal Traits:

Vindicator Tactics, Protector, Spellbreaker, Elder Intimidation, Holy Light Echo, Art of War, Zealous Devotion, Light-Forged Armory, Unsheathed Holy Light.

New Personal Traits:

Legendary Energy Resistance: The destructive power of all energy attacks directed against you is reduced by 33%. Legendary/Mythic weapons ignore this resistance.

Legendary Blade Resistance: The destructive power of all physical attacks directed against you is reduced by 33%. Legendary/Mythic weapons ignore this resistance.

Tip!

This trait is granted by mythic creature characteristics. Upon acquiring complete mythic creature characteristics, damage mitigation will be increased to 66%. Mythic weapons ignore this resistance.

Legendary Traits:

Ashbringer, Light-Forged Knight.

New Legendary Trait [Forging Swords into Light]:

The fusion of K'ure's remnant form with the individual elevates the individual's radiant energy recovery speed to Legendary · Upper, allows the individual's personal radiant energy pool to carry an additional 300% holy power redundancy upon reaching its storage cap, and grants the ability to automatically 'burn holy power' to gain extra combat power enhancement.

Individual's current radiant energy pool storage is: Incalculable (Super-massive holy power redundancy, please discharge as soon as possible!).

Individual's temporary power limit upon completely igniting holy power can reach: Demigod · Critical

Warning!

The individual's radiant energy pool is in a state of massive overload. Please consume and discharge excess holy power as soon as possible, or it will trigger uncontrollable negative effects including energy loss of control, excessive saint-ification, etc.

New Legendary Trait [Radiant Sun]:

The Radiant Sun, one of the Atamatha crystal relics, has completed "crystal symbiosis" with your heart organ, replacing it to maintain somatic existence.

The supreme treasure of the Holy Light grants special reinforcement, mutating the individual's holy light form. Special holy flames with greater destructive power and healing capacity will replace your original holy light.

The Radiant Sun grants the individual a special passive ability [Supreme Strike]. This ability requires a charge-up to activate. Once activated, all your attacks will carry divine bursts, inflicting massive light-burn damage to enemies.

This destructive effect can be stacked through charging, but prolonged charging may damage your weapon.

Tip!

The Radiant Sun will enter "overload" after releasing energy multiple times in a short period, drastically boosting your radiant energy recovery speed and holy spell destructive power in the short term while emitting massive amounts of light and heat.

However, multiple overloads will cause you to enter the "Faint Heartbeat" negative status.

The massive light and heat released during the Radiant Sun's overload may damage your defensive gear.

Important Warning!

You are currently undergoing a "racial transformation" triggered by special circumstances. Your Eredar bloodline and your Naaru bloodline have generated a certain conflict.

When your holy power burning breaks through the "safety threshold," you will temporarily enter the "Saint-ified" state. In this state, you will directly touch the true essence of the Holy Light primordial force, greatly amplifying your mastery over holy power, strengthening your skill release effects, and endowing your holy light with more dazzling light and shadow effects.

However, in this state, your mortal emotions and thoughts will gradually drain away, and the "divinity" from the Naaru will gradually overwrite your mind.

Before your mortal bloodline power is further enhanced (Demigod), do not maintain the "Saint-ified" state for long periods, lest emotional stripping cause irreversible damage to your personality.

Comprehensive Evaluation:

That's right, now this looks like something!

Character Evaluation:

[I don't get why you kid wanted to use a Naaru as your 'reinforcement cushion.' There are all sorts of weird mythic creatures all over this physical universe; the Naaru aren't outstanding in any aspect!

You'd be better off with Dragon Aspects!

Those two horned red and green sluts are full of vigor. If I were you, I'd definitely use them as my reinforcement cushions—you might even harvest two obedient, live-fire weapons.

Tsk tsk, but this is your own choice, so I can't say much.

Let me remind you here, kid.

If you want to transform yourself into a true mythic creature, just picking up one Naaru corpse isn't enough.

What I mean is, find a few more Naaru, kill them off, and then you can happily feast on their corpses to become an even more badass mythic creature.

Don't get too smug, either.

Just a mythic creature? This lord eats at least ninety-nine of them for breakfast just as a light snack. In the eyes of the true overlords of the physical universe, so-called mythic creatures are nothing more than slightly tastier rations.

So, you still have plenty of training to do, kid!]

"If you didn't mock me for a single day, your spirit wouldn't feel refreshed, right?"

Dyk was thoroughly sick of this wise-cracking bastard who spwed nonsense all day long. He hadn't deliberately set out to pick up a Naaru corpse; it was simply because the duel environment and venue against Sargerei had K'ure's remains right there, wasn't it?

He held deep respect for the guardian Naaru K'ure, who had sacrificed herself to save many lives. If he had a choice, he wouldn't have wished to inherit K'ure's power through such a sorrowful method.

Regardless of everything, that guardian Naaru who died on Argus had offered her final all to the exodus of the Eredar. That sacrifice deserved to be permanently commemorated by Dyk, and since he had inherited K'ure's power, he would certainly carry out K'ure's righteous path to the very end!

Although he still didn't know which stage the Orcs' offensive against the Eredar—no, the Draenei—had reached, now that he had awakened, those idiotic Orcs could forget about pulling off the exaggerated genocide depicted in the official history of the Dark Portal.

If they still dared to bare their teeth, Dyk truly wouldn't mind leading the veteran soldiers of the Hand of Argus to personally choke the life out of every single green-skinned Orc on Draenor.

They had already drunk fel blood; they were no longer human!

Since they were no longer human, why talk about humanity and morality?

Just like facing demons—purification was all that was needed!

Before initiating this purification, however, Dyk needed to gather a vast amount of information. For instance, he urgently wished to know what had become of the other Eredar clans during the two-plus millennia he had slumbered.

Was the assembled Army of the Light as mediocre as in official history?

And most importantly, what changes had occurred within the Burning Legion, Dyk's mortal enemies?

He could be certain that his battles on Argus had absolutely shaken destiny! Two millennia ago, this butterfly of his had already flapped its wings, and two thousand years was enough time for a series of "butterfly effects" to ripple across the starry sea.

"Commodore, I have brought the fallen one's weapon."

Yrel's voice interrupted Dyk's train of thought. He looked up to see the young woman, clad in somewhat ill-fitting vindicator armor, placing various weapons before him.

Dyk wasn't picky. He casually picked up a two-handed warhammer, swung it one-handed in his grip, and sighed:

"Feather-light. Feels like it would snap with any real force, but it will barely do."

"..."

Yrel offered no comment on this.

Yet she had numbly adapted to the various superhuman displays of the Vigilant, convincing herself with a very simple piece of logic:

He is a legendary saint, after all!

Therefore, such casual transcendence of mortal limits was hardly worth being astonished by, right?

"Now then, Hand of Argus recruit Yrel, are you prepared to condense your own path?"

Dyk stood up, slung the warhammer behind his back, and extended a hand like a priest. Yrel immediately dropped to one knee, allowing Dyk's warm hand to rest upon her brow.

However, Dyk's inquiry left her shocked.

She stammered:

"Hand of Argus? But... but Saint, I am entirely unqualified to join that legendary legion composed entirely of millennial veterans! I've heard they don't even accept children born outside of Argus."

"Foolish dogmatism!"

Dyk snorted dismissively:

"The Hand of Argus is a legion I founded; how it operates is up to me to decide. If I say you can, then you can!

We do need to replenish some new recruits, but I must warn you in advance, child: the selection standard for recruits of the Hand of Argus is to slay at least thirty demons in a single battle before being accepted by other battle-brothers and faith-sisters.

I am unwilling to break this wonderful tradition, so this shall be your first trial!"

"Thirty? Ugh, if they can be accumulated, then I suppose that's fine..."

"No, they cannot be accumulated! They must be achieved within a single battle. If you fail to accomplish this, your tally resets back to zero."

"Ah? But there are no demons on Draenor!"

"Rest assured, the Orcs have surrendered to the Burning Legion. Soon, the demons here will be so numerous that even if you step outside to use the outhouse, you'll run into two felhounds lying in wait to ambush you."

"Pardon my frankness, but your analogy is utterly disgusting."

"Ah, we ancient Eredar speak this way. So, recruit Yrel... do you accept the trial of the Hand of Argus? And have you decided upon the content of your Holy Path and Light-forged Oath?"

"I've thought about it, but will the Light truly answer me? I'm just a rookie recruit without rigorous training; I don't feel I can be cherished by the Light to that degree."

"Rest assured, just state it outright. It should give me this much face."

"Huh?!"