13. Saint Diakm has gone mad, he is going to create a New Draenor!

As Shadowmoon Valley’s signature dim dawn arrived, the villagers of Embaari, who had been living in constant fear over the past few days, were finally ready to evacuate to the Temple of Karabor.

High Prelate Naielle’s adjutant, Lady Yula—a high ranger and spirit dragon rider commander—would personally lead the escort to the safe zone.

To ensure the success of this mission, a reinforcement squad of spirit dragon riders had been dispatched from the town of Elodor. These adorable beasts with their massive, expressive eyes were "companions" the draenei had unexpectedly encountered during their voyages across the starry sea.

Their homeworld had been destroyed by demons, so they had naturally boarded the draenei spaceships.

In fact, spirit dragonlings were a cute species distributed across many worlds, looking remarkably similar to one another. Legend had it that this was because they had all been blessed by a peculiar "deity." They were not skilled in close combat, but possessed the innate gift of energy breath; some particularly clever ones could even channel the breath of the Holy Light.

These ugly-cute, oversized darlings were carnivorous. Anyone who had ever witnessed them hunting a clefthoof would never dare let their guard down around these outwardly adorable yet ruthlessly lethal monsters.

Together with the draenei's traditional flying mount, the moth-like flier, they formed the aerial forces. Currently, the training and command of the spirit dragon riders fell directly under Naielle’s jurisdiction.

Thus, these aerial cavaliers were truly "family."

Outside the village gate, Yvelth helped her dear sister, Samara, mount a tall elekk. She urged Samara to stay safe at the Temple of Karabor and promised to visit her as soon as she and the Sentinel Saint completed their combat mission.

Samara, however, wanted to stay.

Having been healed by the Sentinel Saint's Holy Light previously, her physical constitution had vastly improved. Touched by the Holy Light, she had even become a formal novice priestess and believed she could definitely be of help. Unfortunately, even a natural-born warrior like Yvelth had been harshly rated as "recruit level" by the demanding Saint, meaning Samara, a newly awakened professional, had zero chance of being allowed to join the impending battle.

"Practice diligently at the Auchenai Crypts, and don't be discouraged. Sooner or later, we'll fight side by side."

Yvelth comforted her sister. Anxious to attend the village war council, she quickly turned back to the female orc, Rekal Bloodfire, whose face was concealed beneath draenei garments, and warned:

"You must follow Commander Yula's orders strictly. You all know the current situation; if your identities are exposed upon entering the city, the civilians at the Temple of Karabor might literally beat you to death."

"We understand," Rekal Bloodfire sighed.

"We know the mission entrusted to us. Warchief Ner'zhul, who returned last night, spoke with us shamans. We are well aware of the terrifying situation facing the Shadowmoon Clan and indeed the entire orcish civilization. We will do our utmost to demonstrate our goodwill and desire for peace.

Let us only hope your prelates give us a chance to explain.

Ah, damn that Gul'dan!

May the elemental spirits consume that cursed ambitious bastard!"

"Prepare to move out!"

Yula, mounted atop her spirit dragon, lowered her striking ruby goggles to shield her eyes and shouted to the civilians below:

"Remember everything the rangers told you! Comrades, keep your mouths shut. Do not speak of things best left unsaid. If you ruin the plans of the Sentinel Saint and High Prelate Naielle, you will be court-martialed under military law."

"Rest assured, Commander Yula," village priestess Minala reassured her.

"Embaari Village has revered the Sentinel Saint for over two hundred years; it is our honor. Since the Saint himself issued the order, we will surely keep this secret until he returns in triumph to the Temple of Karabor."

"Very good."

Yula nodded with satisfaction.

Amidst the takeoff of the spirit dragon riders, the moderately sized convoy departed the village gates and embarked on the road toward sanctuary.

Yvelth waved goodbye from the village entrance, then rushed back on schedule into the village's largest building, where all the vindicators and rangers were waiting for the Sentinel to begin the tactical briefing.

High Prelate Naielle had pinned a tactical map of Shadowmoon Valley to the wall, marking several critical locations.

Yvelth noticed that the High Prelate’s gait seemed slightly peculiar, as if she had sprained her ankle. She felt a surge of deep admiration—truly a legendary prelate! She must have engaged in a life-or-death struggle with the orcs just yesterday.

As expected of the legendary guardian of the draenei!

"The Saint has arrived!"

Vindicator Teldor called out from the doorway. The chatter in the room instantly ceased as their Saint strode into the makeshift war room, followed closely by the aged orc chieftain.

This sight left the vindicators wide-eyed with astonishment.

"I have spoken with Warchief Ner'zhul; he will be operating alongside us from now on."

Dick swept his gaze across the crowd and said loudly:

"All of you participated in yesterday's raid on the Bastion of Pain. You saw with your own eyes how those corrupted orcs treated their own kin.

History has proven that when the shadow of war fell upon Draenor, the very first targets were not us, but those traditionalist orcs who refused to sink to the same depravity. Awakened by the Holy Light, Warchief Ner'zhul has resolved to set things right in Shadowmoon Valley through a righteous reckoning!

His assistance is necessary. Only he knows what the evil primeval warlock Gul'dan and his Shadow Council intend to do to our people and cities.

Therefore, our upcoming tactical operations will revolve around Warchief Ner'zhul's military advice. I expect you to accord this 'external military consultant' the necessary respect and protection during our operations."

High Prelate Naielle nodded in agreement.

"We are about to venture deep into the territory of the Shadowmoon Clan. Warchief Ner'zhul is deeply familiar with their defensive layouts. Without his help, a rapid redeployment would be nearly impossible, making the Saint's decision essential.

Does anyone have any objections?"

No one raised an objection at this moment.

The draenei were not fools; the two commanders had clearly already coordinated this. This was not a consultation; it was an order!

"Please, Warchief Ner'zhul."

Dick made a polite gesture. The old chieftain sighed, leaned on his walking stick, and stepped forward. He inspected the map provided by the draenei and extended a finger toward the center of Shadowmoon Valley.

As a chieftain who had once revered knowledge and wisdom, Ner'zhul spoke the draenei language fluently, even carrying a trace of the elegant accent native to the Talador region.

He said:

"Here lies the spirit-resting place of the Shadowmoon Clan, known to outsiders as the 'Bone Wastes.' Whenever possible, the dead of every orc clan are sent here to be laid to rest through the funerary rites performed by the Shadowmoon.

Though most remains are eventually returned to their respective clan ossuaries, over the years, a number of wandering souls have remained behind.

Their numbers are staggering. Gul'dan has already dispatched necromancers here to summon skeletal remains and empower them with void energy.

You witnessed those elite void skeletons at the Bastion of Pain. Once their numbers multiply, they will form a terrifying 'sea of bones'—an expendable vanguard army Gul'dan is preparing for the assault on the Temple of Karabor.

We must destroy this place!"

Grief washed over Ner'zhul's aged face as he whispered:

"Even though this is a horrific desecration of ancient traditions, we cannot bear the thought of our ancestors' wandering souls being manipulated by an ambitious tyrant as weapons against you. The Bone Wastes are now saturated with void energy and have suffered severe corruption; thus, they must be cleansed.

With your Holy Light!

This high-purity radiant energy is enough to grant those disturbed souls peace once more. I will guide you on the most direct methods to disrupt the necromantic rituals in the Bone Wastes, but I suspect the Shadow Council will not sit idly by and let us succeed.

Therefore, you must prepare for battle."

The vindicators nodded solemnly.

They all knew the orcs maintained a sacred ground in the valley's central canyon. During times of past peace, some draenei had even visited it as tourists.

"If it's just bone constructs and a few warlocks, this mission shouldn't be too difficult," said Huntress Szantuk.

"Our forces are more than enough."

"That is merely the appetizer, child."

Dick shook his head.

"This is just the prelude to our counterattack; the truly dangerous operations lie ahead. Do not interrupt Warchief Ner'zhul casually. Please continue."

He looked toward the old orc, who remained silent for a few seconds before pointing higher up the map into the northern reaches of Shadowmoon Valley, situated on the hills directly between Embaari Village and the Bone Wastes.

Ner'zhul murmured:

"Here! This place was used in ancient times by the shamans of the Shadowmoon Clan to commune with the elements; it is one of the primary elemental convergence zones in Shadowmoon Valley.

Gul'dan and his warlocks are executing a terrifying plan here. While I know they are active there, the specifics remain unknown to me. What is certain, however, is that once their plot succeeds, the entire world of Draenor will be affected.

When I was being led astray—ah, when I lost my mind—I overheard Gul'dan speaking of his plans.

He said he would make the stubborn conservative shamans experience firsthand the weakness and unreliability of the elements. He claimed the path of the shaman no longer served the interests of the orcs, and that he would replace it with a greater power.

At the time, I was incapable of processing all of this, but looking back now, it sends a chill down my spine!

As a shaman abandoned by the elements, the most horrifying possibility I can imagine is that Gul'dan intends to use dark sorcery here to permanently sever the bond between the orcs and the elemental spirits.

He might even manipulate that raging fury to directly attack your Temple of Karabor. Furthermore, I know the draenei possess ancient elemental traditions; this means that if Gul'dan disrupts the world's elements, your powers will also be severely diminished.

Worst of all, the Bleeding Hollow Clan of Tanaan Jungle has guarded certain 'cursed stones' capable of suppressing elemental powers for generations. I suspect Gul'dan may employ those artifacts."

Ner'zhul paused, looking at the visibly tense draenei vindicators and rangers. He emphasized grimly:

"Finally, during the period when I was marginalized, Gul'dan and his warlocks continuously pored over the forbidden scrolls of the Shadowmoon Clan, searching for a shadow power known as the 'Dark Star.'

It is a peculiar astronomical phenomenon observed by the Shadowmoon continuously over the past two hundred years.

It is a bizarre 'celestial body'!

The dark light it radiates is so intense that it even obscures the stars. The perpetual night plaguing Shadowmoon Valley today is inextricably linked to this 'Dark Star'!

Most importantly, the Dark Star is a 'living entity.'

It possesses terrifying void power and even tempts spellcasters who draw upon its might. I won't conceal this from you: the void powers wielded by the Shadowmoon warlocks originate from prayers and extraction directed toward the Dark Star."

"But it is merely a celestial body," Vindicator Captain Nobundo said doubtfully.

"Even if it is an evil dark star, the absolute most it could do is grant the warlocks foul powers. Compared to Gul'dan and the Shadow Council's assault on the world's elements, shouldn't this issue be of lesser concern?"

"Heh, he is counting on you thinking precisely that!"

Ner'zhul shook his head, his tone growing heavier.

"What if the Dark Star can be summoned? What if, using the proper rituals of terrestrial traction and invocation, one could pull the Dark Star from the interstellar void outside our world and crash it into the surface?

Imagine it, draenei!

A meteor enveloped in shadow corruption and void energy slamming directly into your Temple of Karabor—what kind of catastrophic destruction would that inflict upon your radiant city?

That is the ultimate weapon Gul'dan has prepared for the battle of Shadowmoon Valley!

I am certain that once the orcs are defeated in ground warfare, and if even fel energies fail to breach your mighty city, Gul'dan will make a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble to summon the Dark Star."

"Wait!"

Just as the war room fell into a dead silence over the apocalyptic scenario Ner'zhul had painted, Naielle suddenly realized something.

She looked at Dick, then at Ner'zhul, and asked with heightened gravity:

"According to your stargazing records, did the Dark Star suddenly appear in the starry skies above Shadowmoon Valley a little over two hundred years ago?"

"Yes."

Ner'zhul regarded Naielle with a subtle gaze.

"Just a few days before you draenei appeared in our world. I suspect this Dark Star is somewhat connected to your origins, isn't it? Thus, some of Gul'dan's accusations against you were not entirely baseless.

The draenei are not as holy and righteous as they appear on the surface.

That Dark Star is a problem you left behind in this world, and now it is being used by Gul'dan against you.

Ah, perhaps this is fate."

"It is K'ara!"

Ignoring the slight sarcasm in Ner'zhul's words, Naielle spoke solemnly to Dick:

"It is the fallen guardian naaru, K'ara—the benevolent naaru that escorted us across the starry sea and protected us for over two thousand years. Before it fell into darkness out of exhaustion and agony, it asked us to cast it adrift into the cosmos.

It knew what would befall it, but...

How could a radiant naaru become a dark star? Why would it actively tempt the orcs to pull it down to this world? What on earth is it trying to achieve?"

"We can discuss this later!"

Without answering Naielle's question, Dick turned to the vindicators and declared:

"These three threats directly targeting the Temple of Karabor are the problems we must resolve next. Warriors, I will lead you to crush these potential dangers, but this also means you will face the immediate trial of death.

In battles of this scale, the Holy Light cannot shield you entirely. Therefore, if anyone wishes to withdraw, I will not blame them.

However, to withdraw now means casting aside the armor and honor of a vindicator!

During the second triumvirate period on Argus, when the rank of vindicator was first established, we swore an oath. Every vindicator must become a sword and a shield defending the people. The moment we swore our oaths as vindicators, our lives no longer belonged solely to ourselves.

It is human nature to wish to avoid mortal peril, but that also means you are unsuited for this calling.

You have two hours to think and prepare!

After breakfast, we will march toward the Bone Wastes. We must dismantle that massive necromantic ritual and purify the site before midnight tomorrow. Following that, we will proceed to the location of Gul'dan and his Shadow Council.

Whatever those bastards plan to accomplish there, we will not let them have their way!

Now, dismissed, warriors."

Dick waved his hand, and the vindicators dispersed. There was much to prepare within the village, and organizing supplies alone demanded immediate attention.

As a recruit familiar with Embaari Village, the duty of managing supplies naturally fell to Yvelth, whom Nobundo temporarily assigned as quartermaster.

Yvelth held no resentment toward this task. Her sole desire now was to join the Saint's ranks, purge evil with her Holy Light to protect the people, and repay the Saint for everything he had done for her dear sister Samara.

Yesterday, she had witnessed with her own eyes how the Saint had pulled Samara back from the brink of death at the very last moment. Throughout the night, Samara had suffered from nightmares and muttered feverishly beside her.

She kept babbling about blue-winged angelic bird-men trying to take her away, but the Sentinel had driven those terrifying creatures back, proclaiming that she belonged to the Holy Light.

Yvelth figured her sister was simply traumatized, but Samara insisted she had seen the afterlife. In short, her good sister had now become an "enthusiastic devotee" of the Sentinel Saint.

Which was only natural.

After the vindicators dispersed and left the war room, Dick looked at Ner'zhul and spoke in a low voice:

"You need not doubt the sacred bond between the draenei and the naaru. Following the greatest turning point in our civilization's history, our species became symbiotic with the naaru. As for the Dark Star...

I can assure you that problem will be resolved."

"Yet, pacifying a naaru cannot resolve all the troubles of Draenor!"

Having rested and reflected through the night, Ner'zhul seemed to have recovered the wisdom befitting a Shadowmoon chieftain. He stared fixedly at Dick, no longer concealing the secrets in his heart.

He said sternly:

"That naaru within our sacred mountain of Oshu'gun! What do you intend to do about it, Sentinel?

I am deeply grateful that you spared my pathetic life, and I thank you for saving my innocent people. I am equally filled with loathing for having been lured into sin by that scumbag Gul'dan. But there is one fact you cannot deny!

The spirits of our ancestors are suffering unimaginable agony because of your naaru.

Even without Gul'dan's bewitchment or the Shadow Council's meddling, as long as the issue with the naaru inside Oshu'gun remains unresolved, enduring peace between orcs and draenei will be impossible.

I know you respect the dead as well. Why not put yourselves in our shoes?

If your ancestors' rest were violently disrupted by the strange deity of another race, leaving them in endless torment, what would you do?

I need an answer, Sentinel, and High Prelate Naielle. If the draenei truly desire peace, you must resolve the legacy of trouble you left behind..."

"Ah?"

Naielle asked, both surprised and embarrassed:

"So... you've actually known all along that your sacred mountain 'Oshu'gun' is simply our crashed naaru vessel lying in the plains of Nagrand?"

"We didn't know at first," Ner'zhul sighed.

"Our civilization is far too primitive compared to yours. We couldn't even comprehend how to leave our world and enter the stars, let alone grasp a concept as mythical to us as a 'spaceship.'

Yet we learn, draenei.

Do not mistake us orcs for bloodthirsty savages. These years of contact with you have been enough for the wisest among us to discover the secret of Oshu'gun.

And on this matter, you have been remarkably dishonest!"

The old orc glared at them.

"You should have explained everything clearly, but you chose not to!

You allowed our people to worship that 'mountain of crystal' as a sacred site for over two hundred years. I even know that some arrogant draenei among you viewed our behavior as a symbol of 'backwardness' and 'barbarism.'

However, things have reached this point, and I have no desire to debate philosophy with you.

I only wish to ask: what do you plan to do about the situation inside Oshu'gun, where that strange naaru is growing increasingly worse and has begun devouring our ancestral spirits?"

"Prophet Velen has spent years searching for a way to grant K'ure eternal peace," Naielle explained.

"Yet the condition of Prime Naaru K'ure, fallen there, is far more complex than K'ara's. It can no longer communicate with us. We are indeed aware that K'ure has continued to deteriorate over the past two hundred years.

It is dying.

And its death has evolved into a thorny crisis threatening both our races."

"I do not need explanations, Prelate. I need answers—solutions to the problem."

Ner'zhul spread his hands in a sigh.

"I, too, desire peace. But if you cannot offer a solution, how am I to persuade my people, whom Gul'dan has already incited to turn their weapons against you?

My people are indeed wild and superstitious, but that is not necessarily a bad thing, especially under the present circumstances.

As long as you can resolve the crisis of the naaru in Oshu'gun, lasting peace between our two races will be easily attainable.

Most of the clan chieftains are rational men. Even though they formed a Horde under Gul'dan's instigation and elected a Warchief, everyone has their own thoughts on whether a full-scale war is truly wise.

Yet Gul'dan will not allow them to hesitate any longer!

That madman who craves war will use every means at his disposal to force the chieftains into an alliance, and you are the ideal targets."

"Once the matters of Shadowmoon Valley are concluded..."

Dick grasped Naielle's hand, signaling her that no further explanation was necessary, and spoke gravely to Ner'zhul:

"I will accompany you to Nagrand and travel personally to Oshu'gun to resolve Prime Naaru K'ure's grim plight."

"You?"

Ner'zhul looked at Dick with suspicion.

"I have witnessed your power. I know you are favored by the Holy Light, but this is not a problem that mere strength can solve!"

"You do not know my story, Ner'zhul, just as you do not know what lies within this flesh and blood of mine."

Dick extended his left hand.

Under the astonished gazes of the orc chieftain and the High Prelate, his flesh and blood gradually transformed, amidst brilliant light, into a wondrous crystal-like structure, accompanied by a faint, ethereal melody resonating around him.

This sight made Ner'zhul's eyes widen in sheer disbelief as he cried out:

"That sound! That very song! It echoes within the sacred mountain of Oshu'gun, audible only to those enlightened by the ancestral spirits.

You!

Sentinel, are you a naaru?"

"I am merely half a naaru—well, a small fraction of one."

Dick smiled. In a concise tone, amid Naielle's sorrowful and reluctant gaze, he shared his twenty-five-thousand-year history with Ner'zhul.

After recounting his origins, he assured Ner'zhul:

"I am not the most powerful warrior among my people, but my connection to the naaru is unquestionably the deepest of all the Eredar. Therefore, I promise you that once the crisis in Shadowmoon Valley is resolved, I will personally travel to Oshu'gun and help pacify Prime Naaru K'ure.

If possible, I will attempt to resolve the issue permanently.

In return, you must make me a promise!

Once the problem of Oshu'gun is solved, you must exert every effort to forge a lasting alliance between the peaceful orcs and the draenei.

This is not because I am a pacifist who cannot bear the sight of war; my fervor and mastery of warfare surpass your imagination. Rather, we must unite at this moment. You witnessed the Corruptor Cenarius yesterday with your own eyes; you know the demons have locked their gaze upon this world.

Do you believe those destroyers will distinguish between orcs and draenei when they trample Draenor?"

Dick reached out his hand toward Ner'zhul and said:

"We must stand together!

Not just orcs and draenei, but ogres, arakkoa, saberon, and even the botani—every civilization and race on the world of Draenor must unite. Only thus can we survive the Burning Legion's devastating invasion and fight for victory.

What I desire is not merely the fall of Gul'dan...

I wish to ensure that no one is toyed with or destroyed by the cold whims of fate. So, do we have an agreement?"