The Guardian Medivh is not omnipotent. He hears nothing but flattery all day long. Relying on his mind-reading ability, he considers himself very adept at interpersonal relationships, but unfortunately, he still lacks in some aspects.
For example, he didn't understand what Barthilas meant, but he had to listen carefully and not let any detail slip by.
Is the woman who sells steamed buns a hidden master?
Medivh muttered to himself, "It's said that true masters live in seclusion in the city. It's not unreasonable for ordinary people to obtain some kind of heaven-defying power by chance."
Azeroth possesses powerful Holy Light, hidden Old Gods, tragically fallen Titans, Dragonkin, and vibrant elementals, filled with various mysterious powers. Ordinary people have many opportunities to become powerful overnight.
Barthilas continued, "Going south from the baozi shop, the Grandet, a miserly man, would glare at me and chase me away every time I passed by. But I knew he delivered bread to the church where I lived every day, without fail for over a decade, rain or shine."
"Another bread seller? What does this mean?" Medivh sensed some strange mystery hidden within this, and that Barthilas's powerful strength was somehow connected to these three.
Jaina, who was standing nearby, couldn't stand it any longer and stepped forward to warn him, "Guardian, this Barthilas is dishonest. He's lying to you; he's telling you nothing but lies."
Barthilas stared at the beautiful woman. The power of the Deity opened his spiritual eyes, and what he saw was not a beautiful woman, but a venomous snake with its tongue flicking out, displaying a multitude of colors.
"I may lie, but my power does not lie. Lord Tirion Fordring of Hearthglen can testify that I have almost never left Hearthglen over the years. My power can only come from the people of Hearthglen."
Medivh's gaze drifted towards the back hills of the Castle, deep within the dense forest.
Tirion Fordring was so startled that he fell to the ground with a thud, his soul nearly escaping his body.
He knew his presence had been discovered by the Guardians, but fortunately, Medivh's mind wasn't on him. Barthilas's power was drawing the Guardians ' attention, captivating them.
Jaina disdained arguing with a nobody like Barthilas. She continued her tirade, suggesting to Medivh, "Guardian, if we capture that blacksmith idiot, that old woman at the bun shop, and that Grandet at the bakery, and interrogate them thoroughly, perhaps we can get the truth out of them."
Medivh looked at Barthilas, hoping to see his weakness and thus probe his heart.
Barthilas was well-prepared and showed no sign of giving himself away, calmly replying:
"If you do this, you will be very disappointed. You will find that they are just ordinary people. There are powerful forces in this world, but most people are blind to them and discard them like weeds. Precious jade is placed in the bustling city, but people treat it as a stubborn rock. Your interrogation will only shatter the jade and cause you to lose your chance completely."
"And I haven't even finished speaking. The old ladies I meet on the street always slip me a few copper coins, my playmates often steal food from home to share with me, and the beautiful lord's wife frequently visits the church. She cares about my life and has given me many old clothes. It is the kindness of the people of Hearthglen that has made me so powerful."
Tirion Fordring looked bitter after hearing this. "You deceived the Guardians, fine, but why drag my wife into it?"
"Oh no, this is getting more and more complicated."
Medivh was completely bewildered. Looking down at the entire Hearthglen from the air, countless thoughts raced through his mind.
It even feels like Hearthglen was the work of a master, with the layout of the streets and the location of each house concealing the cultivation methods of Deity Descension, which Barthilas, who was fed by many families, just happened to comprehend.
However, he quickly dismissed this idea, since ordinary people build houses rather casually and wouldn't follow the layout of any master.
Uther!
Medivh looked at Uther, who had already gotten up, and asked a question.
Although he had only been called by name, the perceptive Uther understood the Guardian's intention: to elicit his opinion. He gritted his teeth and said angrily:
"Barthilas is a treacherous thief, a heretic who stole the Holy Light, destined to be burned at the stake, an unforgivable sinner. Guardian, do not listen to his nonsense, kill him."
Medivh was somewhat displeased and said sarcastically, "What I want to know is precisely the method to steal the Holy Light. Do you think I, a Guardian, am a thief?"
Uther quickly put on a fawning smile and said in a humble voice, "How can the Guardian be considered a thief? It is the Holy Light's honor to serve the Guardian."
"I don't want to hear your flattery; I want to know your opinion on this matter."
Uther pondered for a long time. He was a lucky man, chosen by the Naaru in his youth to become the representative of the Holy Light, the great Lightbringer. The Naaru imparted to him countless knowledge about the Holy Light and techniques for its use, but this cramming-style education also limited Uther's imagination.
"Impossible! Humans cannot comprehend the power of Deity Descension." Uther shook his head repeatedly, vehemently denying it. "Deity Descension can only be bestowed by the Naaru; it is an ultimate law, the crystallization of the wisdom of higher life forms."
There are clear, living examples right in front of him, yet Uther is blatantly lying.
Medivh looked disappointed; Lightbringer was always unreliable at crucial moments.
Barthilas smiled, confident of victory, and waved his hand, saying:
"Stop your futile speculations. I can only tell you that my power originates in Hearthglen. Every street, every shop, every house, and even every person here may possess knowledge and power unknown to others, even to themselves, which has unintentionally shaped me into who I am today. Medivh, I know you are unwilling, but you can only preserve Hearthglen. To harm even a single blade of grass or tree here could cost you your chance forever."
"Perhaps there is another way."
Medivh looked at Barthilas and slowly extended his right hand, gathering his power.
If Medivh could capture Barthilas alive, he had a thousand ways to extract the secrets from Barthilas' heart.
Barthilas laughed again, a mocking laugh at Medivh, yet also a laugh of relief. Barthilas stood ramrod straight; before, he had been like a statue, and now he truly had become a statue.
A gentle breeze blew by, yet it could not stir Barthilas's hair. His entire being had become like a crystal, standing there, with a mocking look on Medivh face as he stood between heaven and earth.
Tirion Fordring knelt under the tree, sobbing.
He knew in his heart that Hearthglen had been saved, and his wife and children had survived.
Barthilas kept his promise, sacrificing his life to ensure the safety of Hearthglen.
This is humanity's greatest Consecration.
When Barthilas awoke, he saw a bright road leading to an unknown distance.
The streets were bustling with people, men, women, and children, all wearing joyful smiles, cheering and applauding for Barthilas.
"Barthilas, well done! You are a true warrior, a great hero."
"Lordaeron is truly blessed to have you."
"Great warrior, please accept my gratitude."
Barthilas knew he was dead; this was the path souls had to take to reach the World of the Dead.
He straightened his clothes, a confident smile on his face, and walked towards the bright future.
The battle is not over yet, he told himself.