19. Though the world of Draenor is not large, it is filled everywhere with scene-stealers and big shots.

Although Dick had been intimately close with Nari after his resurrection, he clearly had not told the High Exarch the full truth about his current condition.

On one hand, his situation was indeed rather complicated and could not be explained in a sentence or two.

On the other hand, if a person truly holds another deep in their heart, no matter how dangerous the circumstances, they will most likely wish to spare that person from the burden of prolonged worry.

However, such matters could not be kept hidden forever.

New recruits like Maraad and Yrel would only feel a sense of pride in the unmatched, sacred power of the Vindicator Saint, but a legendary figure like Nari could see through the issue at a single glance.

Just now, Dick's state under the "Sanctification: Seraph" form was by no means normal. That exaggerated "divinity," which felt so detached as to border on cruel and indifferent, had no business appearing on the Diachum she remembered. Therefore, while waiting for the aftershocks of the battle to subside and under Nari's concerned questioning, Dick finally gave her a complete account of the Naaru body.

"You know better than anyone what I looked like when I was brought back aboard the *Genedar*. That was a fatal wound on the verge of death; naturally, it required a miracle to reverse."

Dick sat beside a still-warm rock, toying with the newly acquired "Skull of Gul'dan (Youth Edition)," wondering if he should find a skilled jeweler in the Karabor Temple to modify it so he could give it as a "welcome gift" two thousand years later to Malduran's sweet daughter, Leland.

That girl was an arcanist; she would appreciate this present.

He explained softly to Nari:

"K'ure's luminous shard spent over twenty years repairing my missing flesh, reshaping me into a more powerful state, and granting me the inheritance of a large portion of the power and the enormous holy energy pool belonging to the guardian Naaru of Argus. But this restoration was not without cost.

Inheriting K'ure's power naturally meant acquiring some of the biological traits of a Naaru. In fact, I feel as though I am currently transitioning from a flesh-and-blood mortal into the pure light-aligned biology of a Naaru."

He smiled, seemingly not regarding this as a problem.

He said:

"Most of the time, this is not an issue. But once I intensely ignite my holy energy to break through a certain limit, I can feel the mortal part of me being blocked off and stripped away, assimilated by some grander will.

Perhaps it is because the power of that light exceeds my limits as a mortal, forcing me to transition into the 'Naaru' form in order to master and control it.

Still, in normal combat, as long as I do not enter 'Sanctification,' the residual will of the Naaru cannot affect me."

"It just doesn't affect you *yet*! Damn it!"

Nari gripped Dick's wrist tightly, applying enough force to cause him a slight twinge of pain. She said anxiously:

"We must return to the Karabor Temple immediately and have Prophet Velen examine you. This is a serious matter concerning your very will! I think we need to take the time to figure out exactly where that limit lies."

"So you think my multiple battles since my resurrection were just me showing off my martial prowess?"

Dick shook his head and said:

"A fight like the one against Kilrogg Deadeye is the limit. Below that threshold, I can wield the blessings of the Holy Light freely and easily. But Gul'dan was relatively more troublesome; I didn't want to waste time, nor did I want to leave that scum with any pathetic illusions.

Coupled with the need to rein in these unruly Elemental Lords, I ended up breaking through that limit.

Don't worry. Given the current power scaling of the world of Draenor, I will rarely need to use such over-spec abilities.

Of course, maintaining a happy mood might also help me preserve my emotions, so I occasionally need companionship—doing nothing at all, just being together and sharing our insights into battle."

"Of all times, how can you only be thinking about this?!"

Nari felt her teeth itch with frustration, but she cared for Dick nonetheless. After a few seconds of silence, she asked:

"Is there any solution to this troublesome 'will entanglement'?"

"This isn't an entanglement, Nari. K'ure is already dead; this is the sacred legacy it left behind, and it carries no malice whatsoever."

Dick explained patiently:

"I've analyzed why this happens. I believe it's because, under our current 'mixed-blood' state of Eredar and Naaru, the Eredar part of me is simply too weak to resist the racial might of the Naaru. Therefore, the best approach is to rapidly increase my individual strength.

I think if I can elevate myself to demigod status, I'll be able to completely resist this influence. But we are a long-lived race, and power progression has always been slow, so I don't have a clear path for that yet.

What's even more troublesome is that I may need to unleash a massive, large-scale release of power in the near future.

I have to force myself to reach the absolute limits of my current power in order to discharge the holy energy I've accumulated over the past two thousand years as quickly as possible. Otherwise, my 'energy runaway' problem will only grow increasingly severe."

At this, he leaned in and muttered somewhat awkwardly to Nari:

"You wouldn't want that 'accidental misfire' from the end of that night to happen again, would you? I'm fine, but you..."

"Shut up!"

Nari shifted uncomfortably, the friction between her overly smooth waistline and her armor during the battle causing her quite a bit of irritation. Yet, at the mention of the "accident" from that night—when that runaway fire of the Holy Light had burned away every last hair on her body except for the hair on her head...

That damned memory still made her shudder.

She asked with worried apprehension:

"Do you have any leads right now? About the time, place, and target for releasing this excess power? According to what you said, when your holy energy is completely burning, you can even reach the combat power of a demigod.

I'm not just letting my imagination run wild, but Draenor is not a resilient world like Argus. Can it really withstand an explosion of such magnitude?"

"Don't underestimate this world. As for the target..."

Dick cast a subtle glance at the Elemental Lords nearby who were busy using elemental power to repair the fractured earth. He lowered his voice:

"If the 'negotiation' a moment from now doesn't go well, just take the youngsters and evacuate as quickly as possible. Fall back at least a few kilometers."

"Huh?"

Nari reacted instantly, her eyes widening in surprise:

"The elementals are not our enemies."

"Nor are they our friends!"

Dick shook his head:

"The Draenei have crash-landed on Draenor for over two hundred years, yet the quantity and quality of blessings our shamans receive from Draenor's elemental forces are far below the shamanistic traditions of the orcs. Clearly, these Elemental Lords have very specific preferences when choosing their 'servants.'

But how should I put it?

You know what kind of person I am.

I'm not very fond of 'racial discrimination,' especially in this era where demons are about to make landfall. In fact, if not for our hard-fought battle today, these not-so-bright entities were even planning to abandon the orcs who had served them for so many years."

"But isn't elemental power just inherently fickle?"

Nari sighed:

"Actually, the elemental forces on Argus were the same. We all know the story of the First Wizard, Olgra. Back in his mythological era, even with the recognition and blessing of the world-soul, the ancient elementals still gave him the cold shoulder, ultimately forcing Lord Olgra to shatter their lords just to make them accept the Eredar.

We've witnessed the sights of other worlds during our exile, Dick.

Almost every world with elemental power is like this. Elemental forces represent the world's ecosystem and weather cycles; they are the foundation of the material world's rules. They have the capital to be capricious, and the vast majority of elementals possess no real wisdom to speak of.

They simply exist in the ancient, chaotic state characteristic of primal beings.

The elemental forces of Draenor are already considered mild. The Army of the Light has reported far more extreme cases where worlds were utterly corrupted and devastated by demons, yet the elementals still refused to intervene in the war.

They are so stubborn that they would rather perish alongside the world than help the living beings who provoked them.

It's truly exasperating and helpless."

"No! Elementals can be disciplined, provided you find the right method."

Diachum scoffed at this notion.

Who said elementals were hard to handle?

In the official history of the Dark Portal, Azeroth's shamanic spellcasters routinely practiced the "impeachment and replacement of Elemental Lords." The volatile Lord of Fire, Ragnaros, spent his days plotting destruction and was consequently smashed to pieces by the Champions. Windlord Al'Akir chose to stand against the mortals and continue playing the dog for the Old Gods, and what was his end?

The million Champions of Azeroth not only annihilated two Elemental Lords but also handpicked new ones according to their own needs. Even when the newly supported Firelord later betrayed them, he was once again ground into dust by the fickle Champions.

Under such circumstances, can you still call elementals unruly and untamable?

Hah, calling it a pursuit of free will sounds nice, but in reality, it's just bullying the weak and fearing the strong.

To summarize: they just need a good beating!

Though that was something that would happen in the future, it would be a real pity not to learn such "advanced experience." More importantly, the power of Draenor as a small world was already insufficient when facing the Burning Legion; Dick desperately needed the assistance of elemental forces if he wanted to wage a war against the demons here.

The aftershocks of the battlefield soon died down. The Draenei split into two groups: one secured the surrendering orc warlocks and grunts, intending to drag them back to the Karabor Temple, while the other—led by Maraad—set about chopping off the green heads of the slain orc thugs to pile them up here.

This was, after all, the "fine tradition" of the Hand of Argus legion after every battle!

As a recruit, he had to fulfill it.

Of course, some Vindicators thought this was too barbaric, but their dissenting voices were quickly reduced to helpless whimpers under Maraad's stern reprimand.

This was the order of the Vindicator; if anyone had a problem with it, they could go debate the Saint!

Ner'zhul soon arrived at the ritual platform. At this moment, a hint of awe and gratitude mingled in his eyes as he looked at Dick. Dick could have wiped out every orc here, but he had given them a chance to surrender rather than indiscriminately slaughtering these misguided youths, which thoroughly proved the Vindicator's benevolence.

Moreover, Ner'zhul was old and worldly-wise; he understood precisely what Dick intended to accomplish by leaving the Elemental Lords here.

Deep down, he even held a faint sense of "anticipation."

The Shadow Council, led by Gul'dan, had spared no effort in promoting the path of the warlock, causing immense dissatisfaction among the Elemental Lords toward the changes in the orcs. At the very least, the shamans of Shadowmoon Clan turning to warlock practices was driven not only by Gul'dan's coercion, but also because the elementals no longer answered their calls.

If this problem was not resolved, the spread of the warlock contagion within orc civilization could never be reversed.

Right now was the absolute best opportunity.

"Noble spirits of the elements, I, a sinner, express my most humble apologies for the missteps and sins of my people."

Ner'zhul knelt upon the platform, pleading for forgiveness from the four Elemental Lords manifested before him. He raised his voice:

"Our people were deceived; they believed the shameless warlocks of the Shadow Council when they scorned and profaned the power of the elements. Foolishly, they pursued the volatile power of fel, stopping at nothing to transform themselves into monsters.

Yet you have all witnessed our resistance!

I!

A shaman stripped of the elements' blessing have come to realize that all of this was part of a terrifying conspiracy. I dare not pray to have the elements' blessing restored; I only beg that you do not abandon the orcs!

Not all orcs have lost themselves in the temptation of dark powers!

Please give us time, and we will prove to you through our actions that the orcs still revere the ancient and pure path of the elements. That is our steadfast belief since the very dawn of our civilization, and no orc with a conscience will willingly abandon it. Under your watchful eyes, we will work alongside our peace-loving Draenei friends to purge the lingering poison of fel from the world of Draenor!

But...

But we need your help.

You have personally experienced the most insane lengths to which these crazed warlocks will go. Madmen led by Gul'dan would rather destroy the foundations of this world than surrender it to the demons of the Burning Legion.

We must resist, for the sake of our civilization and our world. And as the physical avatars of this world, you too must take part in this defensive war!"

Ner'zhul's plea and request were logical, deeply emotional, and fraught with urgency and desperation.

He genuinely wished to rectify the grave mistake he had made; he even had a concrete plan in mind. But none of it could succeed without the full support of elemental power. Only when orc shamans once again felt the blessing and empowerment of the elements could these wise individuals scattered across the various clans harden their resolve and reclaim their strength to counter the despicable temptations of the Shadow Council.

With Ner'zhul playing the "red face," it was time for Dick, the "white face," to make his entrance.

The Vindicator stood up, holding high the remaining shard of the Curse of the Elements password he still possessed. Though only a third remained, it still exerted immense suppression over elemental power.

This caused the four Elemental Lords to emit snarls of revulsion, but Dick remained unfazed.

The Vindicator shouted:

"Do you see the runes on this fragment? This piece originates from Draenor, but the script upon it is a mixture of Eredar and Demonic!

It comes from my former kin and the current demonic overlord. If I am not mistaken, this evil and forbidden knowledge was a boon granted to Gul'dan by the demons, who himself admitted to forging such wicked artifacts years ago.

This is ample proof that fel entered Draenor far earlier than we imagined.

We are mortals; we cannot see what lies beneath the surface of the world, but you can!

As the incarnations of the world's will and the foundational forces shaping the rules of the material world, you should have sensed these terrifying changes the moment they occurred. You surely knew long ago of fel's infiltration into orc society, yet you chose to ignore it and let it run its course.

No one knows better than you what Gul'dan did after acquiring fel power.

Yet when the shamans of the Shadowmoon Clan were seduced by fel, when they most needed elemental assistance to anchor their resolve, you chose to abandon them!

You didn't just abandon the shamans of the Shadowmoon Clan. In other orc clans, a growing number of shamans can no longer hear the voice of the elements. Perhaps you felt the orcs were no longer pure, no longer worthy of wielding the mysteries of the elements, and so you planned to abandon the orcs as the earthly avatars of Draenor's elemental might.

Just as you once abandoned the ogres, just as you abandoned the gronn, just as you abandoned the arakkoa—you have always done this. It is simply the orcs' turn this time.

The corruption of the orcs is disgraceful indeed, but your inaction is equally infuriating."

The Vindicator stepped forward, waving the fragment of the Curse of the Elements as he roared:

"Elemental Lords, world guardians born with great power—the first and last lines of defense for the world of Draenor should rightfully be held by you! But until then, the life nurtured by this world will fight the invading demons to the bitter end, if only to protect their homeland.

I believe the orcs will show extraordinary courage in defending their home, but if you choose to stand idly by when they need help, then once the orcs willing to defend you have all perished in battle, the wicked artifacts in my hands will bind you once again!

And when that day comes, there will be no Draenei and orcs fighting to the death to rescue you from the brink of annihilation.

Without us, you will inevitably be driven by Gul'dan to merge into an elemental fury just to buy yourselves a final shred of dignity. But can you truly win? And if you lose, what will become of this world?

Zangarmarsh will wither into a foul swamp, Frostfire Ridge will be reduced to a freezing wasteland, Gorgrond will be torn into barren earth, and the entire continent will shatter due to the depletion of elemental forces.

Not only will orcs and Draenei lose this world, but you will lose your final chance!

You must realize this: in the war against the demons, the interests of all three parties are aligned.

Therefore, I demand that you adopt a proactive attitude and participate in the coming conflict! This is not just for us, but for your own survival. If you are unwilling to do so—"

Dick reached out, and Nari handed over her hunting artifact, "Fang of the Red Maw."

This item was a double-bladed polearm designed for rangers—lightweight, swift, and forged from legendary materials dropped by the greater demon Red Maw. It was a legendary weapon in the truest sense, though too light to suit a Vindicator.

Still, beggars couldn't be choosers at a time like this.

Dick swung the polearm, pointing it directly at the four Elemental Lords, and declared:

"We have wandered the stars for twenty-five thousand years, witnessing worlds vaster than any sea of stars you have ever known. Now we have lost our ship, and Draenor is the final stop of the Draenei's exile. We are fated to live and die with this world.

We have nowhere left to run!

Therefore, noble ancient elementals, if you prefer to sit by and watch us perish rather than lend a hand, then let us all die together! Dying at each other's hands is better than having our bones mocked by demons."

"Don't do this, Vindicator!"

Kneeling on the ground, Ner'zhul lunged forward and grabbed Dick's polearm, pleading loudly:

"Your astonishing power should be used in the right direction, not for infighting! Please believe me! Please believe in the traditions of our orcs! The elemental spirits are not unfeeling, malicious entities; they understand the greater good of the world and will certainly grant the defenders of Draenor the aid we require.

Please lower your weapon!"

The old orc's plea was filled with genuine emotion.

Yet when Dick locked eyes with him, both of them gave an imperceptible nod.

*Heh, plan execution successful.*

Persuading stubborn cooperation partners had to be done this way: blind begging made them arrogant, while blind oppression made them resentful and humiliated. Only by providing a way out while applying pressure could they truly feel they were valued enough.

Though elementals lacked human wisdom, the Elemental Lords could still think—even if, most of the time, they couldn't be bothered to do so.

The four Elemental Lords maintained their silence; they were exhausted too.

The racial suppression attributes of the Curse of the Elements were far too targeted. They had exerted a massive effort just to reach this stalemate. If Dick were to burn his holy energy and fight another round, it would be torture for both sides. Therefore, through the communion and discussion of elemental power, they quickly reached a consensus.

The orcs could still be saved...

At the very least, Ner'zhul—that old fool who had committed a grave mistake but was now trying desperately to make amends—was worth saving.

The Draenei were also trustworthy.

At least the Vindicator, who had slain the warlock leader and genuinely saved them, was trustworthy.

That being said, there was no need to stay at a stalemate. They should just wrap this up, head home to rest, replenish their strength, and maintain vigilance to prevent the same disaster from recurring.

Thus, amidst a gentle tempest stirred up by the joint efforts of the Elemental Lords, Ner'zhul soon felt the power of the elements returning to him.

The whisper of the breeze, the healing of the currents, the resilience of the stone, and the passion of the flame flooded back into his body, allowing him to clearly hear the warning issued to him by the four Elemental Lords:

"This is your final chance."

"Yes! This is your final chance."

Kneeling piously under the protection of the four elements, Ner'zhul proclaimed aloud:

"Witness my redemption, I pray! I will prove to you that the orcs are still worthy of trust! With my own hands, I will uproot that cancerous growth embedded within our civilization and our world. Draenor needs no more strife; our true enemy has already appeared in the stars!"

The Elemental Lords were generally satisfied with this declaration, but regarding the Draenei's demands, they reserved judgment. Through Ner'zhul acting as "translator," the Elemental Lords put forward several conditions.

First, the Draenei's use of elemental power remained stuck in the archaic traditions of the Argus era. Their crude and heavy-handed methods of utilizing the elements displeased the four lords, so Draenor Draenei shamans and orc shamans must form a coalition to develop more effective and practical elemental techniques.

Second, shamanic heritage was not valued within Draenor Draenei culture—this was bad! It had to change. It didn't need to rival the absolute mainstream Holy Light worship, but it could not lag behind the status of the arcanist tradition either.

Third, the Draenei must select a leader for their elemental forces, just like Ner'zhul, to serve as the earthly representative of the four Elemental Lords.

They even nominated a candidate on the spot.

Vindicator Nobundo, who had been standing by in a daze while chopping heads, was drawn forward by elemental power onto the caster platform. Upon learning the demands of the four Elemental Lords, the Vindicator was left crying and laughing in equal measure.

He was a believer in the Holy Light!

His family had been devout followers of the Light since his parents' generation in the Argus era—though rumor had it his grandfather might have been a shaman.

Such forced conversions simply wouldn't do!

Yet Dick beside him looked at him with an expression of helpless amusement. This foolish child had no idea how terrifying his latent talent in the path of the elements truly was. While Draenor Draenei all believed in the Light, not every Draenor Draenei was suited to walk the path of the Holy Light.

The Elemental Lords had practically chewed the food and fed it right into his mouth, yet here he was trying to spit it back out!

Still, the elementals were not in a hurry.

Time held no meaning for the immortal, so the question of whether Nobundo intended to change careers could completely wait until the demon invasion loomed closer.

Logically speaking, now that the business was done, the pact signed, and the terms delivered, the Elemental Lords should have departed. Yet they lingered, seemingly waiting for something to happen.

Dick smiled, and under the gaze of the Elemental Lords, he handed the remaining shard of the Curse of the Elements over to Ner'zhul.

The old orc knew what to do and immediately declared that he would study how to destroy this wicked artifact to lift the final burden from the elements' minds, patting his chest to guarantee he would find a way to counter similar threats in the future.

This statement pleased the Elemental Lords greatly.

Clearly, in their eyes, the orcs who had served them for years were far more trustworthy than the newly arrived Draenei.

With that, they prepared to withdraw in satisfaction, only to be called upon once more by Ner'zhul. Who knew what the old orc had discussed with the four elemental lords, but a few minutes later, Ner'zhul walked solemnly before Dick and said:

"To thank you and the righteous champions of the Draenei for saving Draenor's elemental forces today, the Elemental Lords intend to bestow upon you a precious gift, as a symbol that Draenor's elemental might and this world have truly begun to embrace the Draenei.

Please do not refuse this gift, noble Vindicator."

"?"

Dick blinked in confusion, but receiving gifts was bound to be a good thing—why would he refuse?

Moreover, he realized his previous perception of Draenor's four Elemental Lords might have been a bit hasty and one-sided. Who said they were unreasonable?

They even knew to send a gift in gratitude for saving their lives; aren't they quite courteous after all?

At the very least, compared to the notoriously tarnished elemental planes, these four before him were absolute gentlemen in every sense of the word! Definitely much more presentable than Therazane the Stonemother, who would turn hostile and chase people away the moment the work was done.

So, bring on the gifts; the Saint is more than ready to appraise them.