21. The Bad Luck Scene Repeats, Could Frostmourne... Be Full?

During the latter half of the journey back to the Temple of Karabor, Maraad noticed that his battle-brother, Nobundo, had grown unusually quiet.

He was usually not like this; Nobundo was a cheerful, warm, and somewhat humorous Vindicator, always able to find the right moment to liven up the atmosphere.

His sudden change worried Maraad. Therefore, as they neared the Temple of Karabor, Maraad seized the opportunity to switch duties with Yrel, urging his Elekk closer to the rear of the procession where Nobundo was in charge of guarding the captured fel-blood orcs.

He asked in a low voice, "Did Uncle Diahmu talk to you about something? Did he persuade you to abandon the Light and turn to the elements?"

"No, quite the contrary, Maraad." Nobundo replied with a hint of helplessness to his battle-brother, "The Saint not only did not demand that I step onto the path of the elements, but on the contrary, he assured me that he would never allow anyone for any reason to force me to abandon the way of the Light. That made me feel quite at ease."

"Then why are you looking so glum?" Maraad asked in confusion, "Could it be that you yourself are torn over whether to give up the tenets of the Light? That's impossible, isn't it? You're the child watched over by the most pious veteran in Telmor."

"I am somewhat torn, but not out of a desire for power. Rather, the Saint asked me a few questions that triggered my contemplation on the nature of the Light. I must say, the Saint's lecturing standard in the priestly domain is even more impressive than his glorious scenes in combat."

Nobundo relayed the questions Dick had asked him to Maraad.

He had hoped to get answers from Maraad that could help him, but as it turned out, Maraad was perhaps even more of a "qualified Vindicator" than Nobundo. Not only was he unable to give Nobundo an answer, but he also dragged himself into that "maelstrom of doctrinal contemplation."

Because Maraad was fierce in battle, he was usually well-respected. The sight of both him and Nobundo falling silent simultaneously instantly aroused the curiosity of other enthusiastic brothers, so they too went over to inquire, and the result—

In short, like some sort of "contagious disease," by the time this group reached the majestic city entrance of the Temple of Karabor, the entire squad of Vindicators had been completely depressed by the "Questions of Diahmu."

This was entirely normal.

The questions Dick asked seemed simple, but they belonged to the realm of philosophical speculation and were by no means easy to answer. They touched upon the endogenous roots of the doctrine of the Light. Let alone a group of Vindicators who used muscles instead of brains, back when Dick was just a nobody on Argus, he had used a few similar questions to nearly shatter the mental fortitude of the legendary priestess, Lady Ishanah.

Without a sufficient understanding of the doctrines and scriptures of the Light, it was truly difficult to answer these doctrinal questions concerning "action," "original intent," "morality," "faith," and "conviction."

"I can't come up with an answer."

In the end, it was Yrel, the rookie raised in the village, who was the most honest.

Faced with the inquiries of Nobundo and Maraad, she shook her head and said, "I haven't even passed the Vindicator trials yet; how dare I presume to speak of the essence of faith in the Light? But I can answer your question from another perspective!"

The rookie from Amu'thul Village assumed a carefree posture, pointing toward the front of the procession where the Vigilant Saint, riding a holy battle-ram and gazing at the Temple of Karabor with an enigmatic smile, shrugged and said as a matter of course:

"If we can't get an answer, we might as well refer to someone else's answer! Although I know this question probably doesn't have a so-called 'correct answer,' just look at how deeply cherished by the Light the Saint Diahmu is. Doesn't that prove that the morality he practices is precisely the orthodox faith the Light wishes to see? We can work backward from the result; the current status of the Saint Diahmu already proves that his answer is definitely worth referencing."

"But the Prophet Velen, who is equally favored by the Light, belongs to another school of thought." Maraad shook his head and said, "Prophet Velen's teachings to us are almost at the opposite extreme to the Saint Diahmu's statements. He believes that piety toward the Light is the prerequisite for making the correct choice amidst the ravages of destiny. In this dangerous universe, only loyalty to faith can protect our souls. Meanwhile, the Saint Diahmu believes that one should follow a good and pure heart, and only then call upon the power of the Light to walk the righteous path. The sequence of the two is completely reversed, but the favor of the Light bestowed upon them is hard to tell apart. Therefore, your answer cannot be accepted by us either."

"Then go ask the more formidable priests." Yrel was not annoyed at all. She tilted her head and said, "I happen to be going to the Aldor Rise to see my sister in faith, Samara. Do you want to come along? It is said that Bishop Ishanah of the Aldor Rise is the priestly leader among the Draenei with the deepest understanding of scriptures and faith. She can surely give us an accurate answer, right?"

"Hmm, that makes sense."

The bewildered Vindicators felt they urgently needed spiritual guidance from the priests, so they agreed to go to the Aldor Rise together to seek answers to their faith once they entered the city.

Meanwhile, in the Aldor Rise, Bishop Ishanah, who had just finished a sermon on the Light, suddenly sneezed a few times without warning. She looked around in confusion, suddenly feeling a familiar, eerie chill approaching.

Could it be that her fortune today was bad?

That couldn't be!

When she woke up this morning, she had even used a miraculous amethyst to cast a divination for herself, and the divination result showed that a great and joyous event was about to happen today...

"Bishop! Come quickly! Something major has happened!"

Just as Lady Ishanah was hesitating whether to perform another divination, the door to her lounge was suddenly pushed open. An ecstatic Draenei priest stood at the doorway, frantically tracing a triangular holy emblem across his chest as he shouted to the bishop:

"By the grace of the Light, our ancient Vigilant Saint has awakened in the light! Yesterday's massive earthquake that shook the entire Shadowmoon Valley was the aftermath of a righteous battle fought by the Saint's pious warriors of the Light against the evil orc warlocks! I heard that our Saint personally saved the elemental lords of the Draenor world yesterday! This also matches the strange phenomenon of the city's shamans suddenly receiving powerful elemental blessings en masse last night! The Vigilant Saint has brought new hope to our people, exactly mirroring the legend of him bringing salvation to our ancestors in the past! Come with me, Bishop. The Prophet and the Archbishops have all been stirred. His Excellency Velen is personally heading to the city gates to welcome the Saint's return. The people in the city have gone wild; everyone is rushing toward the city gates right now."

"What? Diahmu, that 'bad boy' who disrupted my spiritual foundation, has been resurrected?"

Hearing this news, Ishanah also stood up abruptly.

Her face, untouched by the ravages of time, revealed undisguised joy. She knew that at this moment when the orcs were sharpening their weapons, the sudden return of a commanding general like Diahmu was unquestionably an absolute, supreme blessing.

However, upon hearing that the citizens of the city were all heading out to pay homage to the Saint, she realized something was amiss.

"Send out the temple guards at once! Summon the Eternal Defenders to the city gates."

Bishop Ishanah instructed as she stood up to change into her ceremonial robes: "Send all the priests and guards out to maintain order at the city gates and prevent any stampedes! Furthermore, get to work immediately and clear out the city's grand pulpit. Diahmu, that bad boy... ahem, the Vigilant Saint is not only an outstanding Vindicator, but also an outstanding priest and a brother in faith who walks alongside us. Yes! He is the most brilliant of all the priests I personally 'enlightened,' and his 'War Prayer' delivered after the battle of Antorus is still used by the Lightforged of the Army of the Light as a battle declaration. I am truly honored to have been Diahmu's guide on the path of the priesthood. Although the thorny questions posed by that fellow almost caused the young me to suffer a collapse of faith, I am no longer that priest whose understanding of doctrine remained on the surface back then. I believe that no matter what outrageous arguments Diahmu puts forward now, I can answer them perfectly!"

In high spirits, Bishop Ishanah even recounted a "little story between herself and Diahmu," which made the listening priest feel quite novel.

Bishop Ishanah was a widely renowned figure back in the Argus era. She was of the same generation as the Prophet and had accompanied the people through their long exile. Had Lady Ishanah not been indifferent to fame and fortune and unwilling to participate in politics, she would undoubtedly have secured one of the seats among the five Archbishops.

In short, after a flurry of busy activity, the moment Dick stepped into the Temple of Karabor with the victorious Vindicators, he was greeted by fluttering flower petals and the cheers of the people.

To be honest, this scene felt rather ominous.

Dick vaguely remembered that over twenty years ago, when he arrived at Eredath just as the Battle of Krokuun ended, he had encountered a similar welcoming ceremony, and then just a few days later, he had rushed to the Antoran Wastelands to fight an apocalyptic war against the demons.

Of the soldiers who participated in that welcoming ceremony back then, fewer than one in ten survived.

Now, facing once again a welcoming ceremony crafted from flower petals and praise, a foreboding premonition stirred in Diahmu's heart once more.

As he reached out to catch a red petal and twirled it in his palm, stepping onto the red carpet alongside the rookies, he inexplicably linked the scene to a dutiful son entering a city with a sword drawn. He muttered inwardly, musing thankfully that the Eredable legends did not feature anything related to a soul-stealing demon blade, otherwise the smiling, welcoming old Velen would be stabbed through once again today.

Dick brushed the petals falling upon him aside, leaped down from his sacred warhorse, and strode toward Velen at the far end of the steps amidst the gaze of countless people.

Twenty-five thousand years had passed, and Velen had finally acquired his "classic skin."

The once youthful Grand Administrator had grown old.

He still wore that white Administrator's robe, with purple pauldrons still adorning his back, and triangular holy emblems shimmering with every breath he took. But Velen's hair and beard had turned completely white; his meticulously maintained white beard extended all the way down to the bend of his knees, and his white eyebrows were divided into four strands, drooping like long longevity brows while sharply turning upward at the ends, giving old Velen a hint of unangered majesty alongside his gentleness.

Yet he had truly grown old.

Tempered by the dark years, Velen's skin had turned purple, his face was lined with wrinkles, and scars even lingered on his towering forehead. The mysterious and bright Mark of the Draenei Leader on his forehead was also pulsing, reflecting the old Velen's excited mood at this moment.

Diahmu watched him.

With each step closer, he could see Velen's expression more clearly.

The undisguised joy, relief, and contentment reminded Dick of the first time he saw Velen in the grand lecture hall of the city of Oronaar over twenty-five thousand years ago. The two complex images of his younger self and his older self gradually overlapped in this moment, filling Dick's heart with complicated emotions toward the leader before him.

Finally, when he reached a distance of three paces before Velen, the Vigilant let out a long breath and said to Velen with a smile:

"I have returned, Grand Administrator!"

"It is good that you have returned, truly good! Today is truly the happiest day since we crashed upon the world of Draenor, Diahmu."

Velen reached out with emotion, patted Dick on the shoulder, and said:

"The Light shines upon you, the Light blesses you, the Light protects you, my child. You are still as spirited as in my memory. Our people have welcomed back their Vigilant Saint, and our civilization is blessed."

"I am also very glad to see you." Dick smiled and said in a low voice:

"Do you know? All along the way here, I was thinking about how, upon meeting you, I should sternly rebuke you for failing to protect our people, and why you let the children of Argus face such a dire situation today. However, the moment I saw you, all that anger and doubt vanished into thin air. The ruthless mark left by time upon you, an immortal being, is simply too heavy. This alone is enough to make me realize how terrifying the pressure you have borne all these years is. Compared to you, who remained steadfast at your post and duty through the dark ages, I, who slumbered for twenty-five thousand years, am more like a shameful deserter. I have no reason or right to accuse you of weakness. Now that I am back, the pressure on your shoulders will lighten somewhat. I will do everything in my power to bear that pressure for you, and together with you, continue to protect our people and seek a way to save our homeland. May the Light have mercy on you, may the Light protect you, and may the Light treat and care for you in a gentler manner."

Dick's words were somewhat blunt, hardly sounding like the upright speech that should be uttered on such a welcoming occasion. Yet it was precisely these words that made old Velen feel an urge to shed tears at this moment.

It was not because he had truly grown weak from old age, nor was it an inability to control the grievances and pressure in his heart.

It was simply that Dick's remarks at this moment made him feel the Vigilant's concern for him, making him feel as though he had been momentarily transported back to the ancient era, where another Vindicator commander by his side would smilingly speak such words to him.

Ah, what a pity that he was no longer around.

"You make a fool of me, Diahmu. I truly have grown old." Velen wiped his eyes and then smiled. Amidst Dick's surprised gaze, Velen reached out to grasp his left hand, and under the fervent gaze of the people throughout the Temple of Karabor, the Prophet announced loudly:

"Rejoice, Draenei! Celebrate, children of Argus! Our Vigilant Saint has returned. His return from across time will sweep away the gloom of our civilization, and the Seat of the Naaru will shine brightly because of it. As the leader of the Draenei clans, I announce to you! 'Vigilant' Diahmu Justinus shall from this moment forth become the commander of all armed forces of the Draenei clans! Just as in the ancient legends when the Vigilant launched a resolute response against the evil minions on the world of Argus, from this day forward, the sharpest sword of the Light in the hands of the Draenei is truly unsheathed! He will resolutely protect us! Just as he has achieved feats in the past, and just as he will establish great deeds in the future!"

The citizens paying homage to the Saint at the grand plaza by the city gates fell silent for a single second, and then burst into even more enthusiastic applause, cheers, and chants.

They might not have participated in the great decisive battle on the world of Argus, but the children born among the Draenei clans over the years had all grown up listening to the stories of the Vigilant.

They knew how Diahmu slaughtered the terrifying demons during the Thirty-Day War on Argus, and they knew how all the fel demigods of the Burning Legion feared this passionate protector.

The elders from the Argus era in the crowd even shouted excitedly with the moniker "Light Butcher."

This title was a bit too exaggerated and sharp for the inherently peaceful Draenei, but only after truly enduring twenty-five thousand years of long exile could people realize what a reassuring thing it was to have a "Light Butcher" feared by demons protecting them from the front.

Amidst those cheers that nearly coalesced into a wall of sound, Dick cast a subtle glance at the changes in expression among the several Archbishops nearby, and softly said to Velen:

"Um, doesn't this feel a bit like an appointment from above? After all, as far as I know, during the time you were recovering from your injuries, all government affairs of the Draenei were handled by the Archbishops. Since power has already been delegated, perhaps such an appointment should have been discussed and passed by them."

"Yet, they have not managed to protect our people well, have they?"

Velen replied softly.

Just this single sentence made Dick realize old Velen's truest thoughts in his heart. It seemed that this well-meaning old man was also deeply dissatisfied with the current status quo.

Velen had been a leader in exile for over twenty-five thousand years, and prior to the exile, he had guided the Eredar for more than five millennia. For someone who had lived alongside power for the greater part of his life, benevolence and tolerance were naturally outward traits, but to genuinely believe him internally weak because of that would be utter nonsense.

In truth, had it not been for the fact that when the Genedar crashed, Velen suffered severe injuries while protecting the people and was forced to spend over two hundred years recovering, Dick could be certain that the situation of the Draenei on Draenor would never have deteriorated to their current plight.

This point was not merely empty talk.

Just look at the Talador region managed by the other Grand Administrator, Hatar. Even the most arrogant orc Warchief Blackhand and the most cunning Gul'dan knew better than not to attack there directly, choosing instead to start with the weaker Shadowmoon Valley.

The enemy's decisions were proof enough of the vast disparity in military preparedness and governance between the two regions.

To put it simply, the young people of the Prelate Council were still greenhorns.

They still needed practice!

"Bishop Ishanah hopes you can deliver a sermon to soothe the people's souls and dispel the fear brought by the clouds of war. I also feel this proposal is very excellent; the people should come to know you anew after hearing of your exploits." Velen said to Dick: "The grand pulpit has been cleared, and you can head there at any time."

"That is only right, and I indeed ought to make a suitably decorous self-introduction to my people in this unfamiliar era after my awakening."

Dick nodded, retrieved the letter intercepted by Maraad and Yula from his pack, and handed it to Velen.

He said in a low voice: "After the sermon concludes, we need to find a quiet place to thoroughly discuss our next course of action. I have brought you the leader of the orcs, Warchief Ner'zhul of the Shadowmoon Clan. He is currently urgently craving our help to deal with the increasingly terrifying mental pollution within orc civilization. You can speak with him first. As for this letter... once you read it yourself, you will understand why I did not return to the people the moment I awoke. This was by no means a slight upon you."

"Mm, go on, let the people have a good look at their Saint."

Old Velen did not immediately open the letter.

He was no fool; the problems Dick could perceive, this outstanding leader could perceive just as well. Right now, Dick had even brought back evidence for him, which was already enough for the Prophet to make a certain important decision.

——————

The welcoming ceremony for the Saint at the city gates came to an end, and he subsequently headed to the grand pulpit overlooking the city to deliver a sermon of the Light to the citizens of the Temple of Karabor.

This was undoubtedly the liveliest event in the city today; anyone in the city with a shred of spare time rushed over to behold the majesty of the Saint.

However, Dick's return was not a good thing for everyone, especially those with skeletons in their closets. They had witnessed firsthand during the welcoming ceremony that the Vigilant Saint handed something resembling a "whistleblower letter" to the Grand Administrator.

Regardless of what that object was, it was an undeniable fact that Diahmu had successfully dismantled the Shadowmoon Valley lair of the Shadow Council over the past few days and single-handedly battered the sharpening orc brutes. This was enough to sound the alarm for those rats hiding in the shadows of the Light.

If they had no intention of facing the Vigilant's wrath and being burned to ashes, right now was their last chance to resist.

"Master, our alien friend has sent news."

Within a palace of the Temple of Karabor, a Vindicator strode forward and reported to the Draenei Archbishop sitting behind his desk processing official documents:

"That fellow demands that we immediately assist him in completing the assault on the Temple of Karabor."

"He's not dead yet?"

The Archbishop said in surprise: "Yet I heard from those Vindicators that they saw with their own eyes the Vigilant, like the Light descending, effortlessly burning Gul'dan to death, incinerating his flesh and blood and leaving behind only a skull."

"He is a warlock; he is not so easily killed. He can live just fine without a physical body."

The Vindicator spoke in a muffled voice: "You need not doubt the truth of this news, Master. I have confirmed it for you: Gul'dan says he still has a trump card to turn the tables, but due to the terrain changes in Shadowmoon Valley, the elites under his command cannot launch a devastating offensive in the short term. Therefore, he has decided to adopt the most dangerous strategy. He has decided to launch a surprise attack on our city."

"Mm—"

The Archbishop stroked his chin, and after a moment of thought, said:

"If he truly has such a high chance of winning, it's not entirely out of the question—provided that this troublesome Vigilant must be eliminated! His series of methods since resurrection indicate that this fellow is not an ordinary ancient Eredar. As long as he remains among the Draenei for even a single day, our grand endeavor cannot succeed. Tell Gul'dan! The Temple of Karabor can be handed over to him, but Diahmu must die! No matter what methods that conceited orc warlock uses, he must accomplish this task."

"Gul'dan is a defeated subordinate of the Vigilant, Master."

The Vindicator shook his head and said: "Such matters cannot be pinned on a scumbag who has already failed once. Rather than pinning hopes on the orc side exerting themselves, I think we should accomplish this task ourselves. No matter how powerful that Vigilant is, he is merely a legend! Wouldn't it be as easy as pie for a demonic demigod who 'accidentally wandered' into Draenor to exert its strength in some chance encounter and eliminate a legendary figure?"

"That may be so, but preparation is already too late now."

The Archbishop said with regret: "We cannot brazenly pull off such a stunt right here in the Temple of Karabor, Lathorn, my loyal servant. However, encountering danger while walking in the wild is the most normal thing in the world. Therefore, you should leave here for now. I reckon that once the business in Shadowmoon Valley is over, our Vigilant Saint will surely go to the Talador region to meet his 'father.' Perfect—if all goes smoothly, we can eliminate both Diahmu and that hard-headed Hatar in one fell swoop. Go take charge of this matter."

"As you command, Master. As you command, great Eternal."

"No, within this city, at this very moment, you should address me as Archbishop Osaar, my dear 'Warmonger' Lathorn. Titles are terribly important things! They represent a person's current status and desired future. Never use the wrong address again."

(End of this chapter)