"My parents were killed by Orcs, and I fled from my distant homeland to Hearthglen. The priest at the Hearthglen church was a good man; he took me in and allowed me to live in the storeroom."
Barthilas showed Robbie and Arthas the Deity Runes Deity Rune explaining their origins.
"I found a worn-out stone slab in the storage room to use as a pillow. There was a strange symbol carved on the slab. Sometimes, I felt that the symbol seemed to be alive, Anjing watching me. Over time, the symbol was imprinted in my mind, hiding between my eyebrows and refusing to come out. I always thought it was a hallucination."
Barthilas shook his head and said with a smile:
"It wasn't until I encountered the Scourge Runes you mentioned that I learned they were called Spirit Runes. Thank you, Holy Light, for bestowing upon me such immense power."
Robbie and Arthas exchanged a glance. It was a complete mistake to thank the Holy Light; they should have resented Holy Light instead. Barthilas had no idea what this Rune had brought him.
Humans who cultivate Holy Light Runes will inevitably transform into Holy Light Creatures.
Barthilas appears no different from a human on the surface, but Robbie and Arthas had already discovered that his internal organs had quietly changed, altered by the power of the Holy Light, with some parts becoming crystal-like objects.
This is why Barthilas is unable to condense the three runes of the Runes of the Dead: Blood, Frost, and Evil.
Only the Scourge Rune, which corresponds to the Deity Rune, can coexist with the Deity Rune; all other Runes of the Dead must be dispelled by the Power of the Holy Light within the deceased.
Will he die, or will he transform into a being of the Holy Light like Naaru? Neither Robbie nor Arthas could guess.
The stone slabs in the church are an important clue.
Arthas closed his eyes, attempting to communicate with the Restless Souls and gather information.
"Among the Restless Souls, a senior archaeologist told me that at the beginning of Lordaeron's founding, thirty-six Churches of the Holy Light were built in various places. Each church had a mysterious stone slab engraved with completely different symbols, and no one knew what they meant."
Thirty-six churches, thirty-six stone slabs, thirty-six Holy Light Rune.
Robbie suspected that this was a malicious plot by some Naaru.
The thirty-six Runes on the stone tablet were likely intended to harm the Discipline Paladin, to eliminate him subtly, just as Barthilas had been.
Arthas said with a regretful expression:
"It's a pity. Nearly a thousand years have passed. Some churches were destroyed in war, and others lost their stone slabs during renovations and expansions. Today, only the church in Stratholme still retains a complete stone slab. The pattern of the symbols that the Restless Souls described to me is very likely the Evolution Runes corresponding to the Mutation Runes."
Robbie nodded. "Finally, some good news."
"Barthilas, come with us to Stratholme." Noticing the Mutation in Barthilas, Robbie wanted to take him with him, hoping to find a way to reverse the Power of the Holy Light within him.
Barthilas shook his head, his expression serious. "Hearthglen needs me now. Everyone here is my benefactor, and I must save them from this predicament. I have a plan."
Tirion Fordring whispered something to Captain Alton of the Guards.
"The Orcs Eitrigg is our honored guest. We must do our best to fulfill all his requests. If he wants to eat people, you should find a way to get them for him, cook them, and send them over. Under no circumstances should you offend him."
"Sir, how are your injuries?"
Alton was unaware of the truth behind Tirion Fordring's injury until he learned that an Orcs lived in the basement of the manor villa, at which point he connected the dots.
"My injuries are minor; for the people of Hearthglen, some sacrifices are necessary."
Tirion Fordring said seriously.
"Sir, you've suffered so much." Alton was moved to tears.
"Go, Alton!" Tirion Fordring waved his hand, then thought for a moment and added:
"Note that you must not let Barthilas know about this. As you know, Barthilas' parents were killed by Orcs, and I'm worried he might do something rash."
Alton nodded in agreement, accepted the order, and left.
"Alton, I'm sorry," Tirion Fordring murmured to himself.
Tirion Fordring felt very uncomfortable; his injuries had not yet healed, but then troubles began to arise.
Barthilas's actions surprised Tirion Fordring. He launched a large-scale search for Orcs, claiming to have found traces of Orcs, and even extended the search to Tirion Fordring's manor villa.
Tirion Fordring had no choice but to risk telling Guards Alton the truth, ordering him to keep an eye on Eitrigg and prevent him from wandering off.
What exactly does Barthilas want to do?
Tirion Fordring felt it necessary to speak with Barthilas, since Hearthglen Tirion Fordring that time.
When Barthilas opened the door and entered, Tirion Fordring stood up and saluted the young Paladin.
"Barthilas, thank you. Without you, I might have become a martyr for the Holy Light."
Even in the presence of Tirion Fordring, young Barthilas remained humble and unassuming.
"My lord, this is nothing. I truly wish I could face that Orcs. It was my negligence that put you in danger. I will find that Orcs and bring peace to Hearthglen."
"Barthilas, remember, as lord, protecting Hearthglen is perfectly justified, but remember not to instill panic in the people. The panic of the common folk will only complicate matters. An Orcs occasionally passing through Hearthglen is no big deal. My advice is not to make such a fuss."
"I will know my limits, sir," Barthilas said with a slight bow, still maintaining proper etiquette.
"My suggestion is that the search can be stopped."
Tirion Fordring sensed Barthilas's stubbornness and knew he wouldn't give up so easily, so he gave the order directly.
Barthilas stood Anjing, the muscles in his face twitching, gradually transforming into a strange, mocking expression.
"Lord Tirion Fordring, if you hand over Eitrigg in the basement of the villa, my search will cease immediately."
"You, you!"
He knew everything; he knew everything.
Tirion Fordring was utterly shocked; his lips trembled, and he pointed at Barthilas, unable to utter a word.
"My lord!" Barthilas resumed his respectful expression.
"You've always been my role model. Perhaps you should teach me the right way to handle things. If the master still wants to negotiate with Eitrigg, I'll pretend I don't see it—an opportunity to learn from you!"
Tirion Fordring frowned; he couldn't understand what Barthilas was up to.
However, he knew he had to see Eitrigg as soon as possible to settle things.
Once the Orcs army reaches Hearthglen, all problems will be solved.
Early the next morning, Tirion Fordring quietly got up and put on his armor.
He knew this would be a difficult negotiation; he would have to yield to Eitrigg, sacrifice the people of Hearthglen, and save his own family. The impending loss of dignity made it incredibly difficult for Tirion Fordring to make the painful decision.
But what can be done?
Where to go next? Tirion Fordring pondered.
In any case, Lordaeron is no longer a safe place to stay. The Orcs are known for going back on their word, so we have to be wary.
Perhaps living in Kingdom of Stormwind and becoming an exiled nobleman wouldn't be bad.
Tirion Fordring chuckled self-deprecatingly, then immediately dismissed the idea.
The betrayal of Hearthglen to ensure the safety of one's own family cannot be kept secret anytime soon.
I have no choice but to find a place to live in seclusion.
With his thoughts in disarray, Tirion Fordring mounted his warhorse and rode towards the collapsed watchtower, the old place where he had arranged to meet Eitrigg.