In his memory, Robbie Capor and the other cannon fodder had entered the Dark Portal in batches to test its stability. Almost none had survived.
By now, Khadgar, Thrall, and the others had already destroyed the Dark Portal. Robbie was a step too late.
Demon Blood had transformed Robbie's body. Knocking down a few dozen Orcs was no trouble, but fighting his way out was impossible.
After all, those who followed Khadgar and World Shaman were veteran Epic-level adventurers from Azeroth, renowned heroes and future commanders. Even so, surrounded by the Iron Horde, they had suffered heavy casualties and fled in disarray.
No, it should be called a successful strategic withdrawal. They had achieved their strategic objective of destroying the Dark Portal, after all.
It wasn't time to despair yet. There had to be a way.
Robbie began to think.
Khadgar had studied under Medivh. In Dwarvish, Khadgar meant "trust."
His influence alone wasn't enough to make heroes like World Shaman and Maraad trust him.
After the assault on the Dark Portal, Khadgar had immediately ordered the Fel Spires shut down and the Soul Engine destroyed, closing the Dark Portal. That had cut off their own escape route, leaving them with no choice but to fight with their backs to the wall.
World Shaman and Maraad must have known about the plan beforehand and given their approval.
So how had they trusted Khadgar? If the operation had failed, wouldn't they all have been finished?
Robbie put himself in the shoes of Khadgar, World Shaman, and the other important figures, and the conclusion came easily.
With Khadgar's meticulous thinking, World Shaman's shrewd planning, and Maraad's caution, they would never have made such a basic mistake. They had to have a backup plan.
If a mage wanted to retreat, the most reliable method was a portal.
Khadgar must have left a portal near the Dark Portal as a fallback. If the Iron Horde proved stronger than expected, the way forward was blocked, or Khadgar unexpectedly died in battle, Thrall, Maraad, and the others would still have a way out.
Sure enough, three days later, Robbie found the portal Khadgar had left behind at the bottom of a latrine.
It stank, but he could go home.
The portal's exit was the Tower of Ilgalar in the Redridge Mountains, close to Lakeshire.
Robbie hurried back to Lakeshire in high spirits. To his surprise, his parents and brothers shut the door in his face and drove him out of the family home, while Lisa announced outright that their engagement was off.
Why?
When the neighbors saw Robbie driven out, they pointed and whispered, every one of them giving him a hostile look.
After listening to the vicious rumors, Robbie finally understood something.
The day after Robbie had set out for the Blasted Lands, Lakeshire had received a wanted notice from Stormwind City listing three charges against him.
They were:
A shameless traitor to Azeroth.
A cowardly, craven deserter.
A despicable, hypocritical underwear thief.
A few days later, a fourth charge had been announced, more serious than the previous three.
Blasphemy: showing disrespect to the great savior Thrall.
He was sentenced to exile and permanently banished from Azeroth.
The first three charges were one thing, but the fourth caused an uproar.
In Lakeshire, Thrall's fans spat at Robbie and threw tomatoes and eggs at his back.
Robbie raised his face to the sky and sighed, lamenting the coldness of the world.
Having lived two lives, Robbie could work out the reasons behind it.
Only a handful of high-ranking figures had known about the plan to assault the Dark Portal beforehand. The villagers of Lakeshire had no way of knowing the truth.
As for the likes of Robbie Capor, who had died as cannon fodder, they were even less likely to be remembered, and there was no need to remember them.
When Archmage Khadgar had cried out with great fervor, "The opportunity is here! Attack the portal," history would not remember the nameless warriors who had sacrificed themselves to win that precious opportunity.
The assault on the Dark Portal had been carried out by heroes like Khadgar, World Shaman, and Maraad.
History only needed to record the heroes' great deeds.
The radiant heroes lit the path for those who came after them, while cannon fodder deserved to be forgotten.
That was where the charges of treason and desertion came from. This way, Robbie and the others' sudden disappearance would not arouse suspicion, and it would also prevent any survivors from revealing the existence of the cannon fodder at the Dark Portal and "tarnishing" the heroes' glorious image.
As for the underwear thief charge, that was sheer slander, meant to disgust people.
Though Robbie resented the first three charges, he could just barely accept them.
Wasn't that how cannon fodder had always ended up throughout history? Little people giving their lives for the heroes' reputations was understandable enough.
The fourth charge angered Robbie most. He couldn't understand it and objected to it from the bottom of his heart.
I'm a member of the Alliance, for heaven's sake! Why should I be convicted of a crime for offending an Orc, even if Thrall is the savior?
The townsfolk considered Robbie a disgrace. After countless scornful looks and sneers, they banded together and drove him out of Lakeshire.
Robbie decided to return to the Dark Portal. Seeing the place and reflecting on what had happened might bring back relevant memories and help him uncover the truth.
After enduring so much and barely surviving, Robbie was unwilling to let fate toy with him.
At the Nethergarde Keep supply camp in the Blasted Lands, leaden clouds hung low and a chill wind gusted.
"Get lost! You're not welcome here."
The innkeeper picked his teeth, spat out a thick wad of phlegm, and shouted, pointing at Robbie:
"Robbie Capor the blasphemer, from now on, you're forbidden from entering any inn or tavern on the continent of Azeroth. It's the punishment you deserve."
He casually tossed over a battered bundle and said coldly, his face full of contempt:
"Kid, this is the luggage you left here before. Don't let me see you again. You're disgusting."
Robbie's expression remained unchanged, showing neither joy nor sorrow. He picked up the bundle, turned, and left.
There was no need to get angry with the innkeeper. One day, he would prove himself.
"What's wrong with that guy?" an adventurer asked his companion in puzzlement.
"Shh, keep your voice down. That man dared to curse the savior Thrall. Thrall was merciful and let him go after giving him a beating, but this is beyond the pale. Offending Thrall is openly opposing Azeroth. What inn would dare take him in?"
The first adventurer jumped in fright and fell silent as a cicada in winter. "He even dared offend the savior? Does he have a death wish?"
"Don't be so loud. Be careful, or the Peace Dove will hear you." The voice grew quieter and quieter.
What's the Peace Dove? I never heard of that organization in the game.
Robbie shook his head, secured his bundle, and headed toward the Dark Portal.
Passing the ruins of Nethergarde Keep, Robbie gazed at the shattered walls and sighed softly.
So many brave soldiers had died on the battlefield without even their bones remaining. When would these troubled times end?
The order to banish the blasphemer was everywhere. He couldn't get by in Azeroth anymore.
Since this world doesn't welcome me, I'll go to Draenor. The Draenei of Draenor haven't received the benefit of Thrall saving their world, so they shouldn't treat me differently.
That's what I'll do.
His mind made up, Robbie headed toward the Dark Portal, where there was a portal leading to Draenor.
The battered bundle was part of Robbie Capor's belongings. Inside were a change of clothes, twenty-four gold coins, two carefully wrapped books, and a small bag of soul shards.
One book was ordinary, titled On the Self-Cultivation of Demon Warlock, by Dushira Lazare. It showed signs of frequent reading.
The other book had an antique air and an extraordinary bearing. Its cover was made of Chromatic Dragon scales, its four corners were encased in Arcane Crystal, its spine was stitched with enchanted red thread, and the ink was the blood of heroes. Its pages were thin sheets of The Beast's hide, its characters restrained within yet expansive without, and its illustrations vivid and lifelike.
A slight turn of the pages brought a dense wave of Holy Light power rushing at him. It was clearly a high-grade item, at least Epic quality.
The title was Holy Light Codex. The author: Arthas Menethil.
Robbie sucked in a breath.
Where had this incomparably precious Holy Light Codex come from? Why was there no trace of it in Robbie Capor's memories?
Robbie casually leafed through the Holy Light Codex. The first section described the Paladin entry-level skill, Holy Light.
A memory surfaced in Robbie's mind.
That year, Robbie Capor was seven and had taken the Paladin entrance exam at Northshire Abbey.
Paladins had magnificent armor, golden steeds, gentle smiles, and courteous manners. Everyone loved them, flowers bloomed at the sight of them, and beauties couldn't walk past them. It was the most popular profession among humans, without exception.
The Paladin entrance exam drew a sea of people, more than all the other professions combined.
The instructor, Brother Sammuel, looked at the young faces before him with a broad smile, every wrinkle on his face smoothing out.
"A Paladin's power comes from dedication. The more you dedicate, the greater the power you receive. No matter the circumstances, a qualified Paladin must never lose the spirit of dedication. I hereby announce the start of the entrance exam."
The students, who had long since prepared, lined up and cast Holy Light on a dummy.
"Casting time: fifteen seconds. Healing: nine points. Failed."
"Casting time: five seconds. Healing: three points. Failed."
"Casting time: three seconds. Healing: thirty-one points. Barely passed. Go over there to pay your tuition and complete the paperwork."
"Casting time: five seconds. Healing: fifty points. Good, very good. Excellent."
When Robbie Capor's turn came, he confidently walked up to the dummy and began to cast.
"Casting time... one second. Healing: 198 points. Heavens, a genius! A genius has appeared!"
Brother Sammuel was beside himself with excitement, a look of ecstatic delight spreading across his face.
Yet Robbie Capor had ultimately failed to become a Paladin.
"A Paladin's power comes from dedication." Brother Sammuel looked full of regret as he said to Robbie Capor's parents, "If you cannot make a dedication to the abbey, I can only say that I am very sorry."
As it turned out, the so-called dedication meant money.
Among humans, Paladins were so popular that, in addition to the substantial tuition, students also had to purchase several extravagantly priced luxury items.
A censer to ward off evil could ensure that a Paladin remained willing to sacrifice himself for justice and goodness and would not fall and become a devil.
An expensive set of tack distinguished a Paladin's mount from an ordinary packhorse used to carry goods.
Two diamonds also had to be prepared, an Azeroth diamond and a primal black diamond, which were said to aid in the cultivation of Holy Light.
Before the Paladin profession appeared, these two kinds of diamonds had been everywhere, and no one wanted them even when they were given away. Afterward, somehow, their prices had soared, especially that of primal black diamonds, which cost as much as a thousand gold coins. Ordinary families simply couldn't afford them.
With no other choice, Robbie Capor had given up on becoming a Paladin and trained as a Warlock instead, a profession that attracted little interest and charged low tuition.
A woman feared marrying the wrong man; a man feared choosing the wrong profession.
To become a successful Warlock, Robbie Capor had poured in countless hours of hard work. He had painstakingly studied ancient, moldy books, dissected corpses and collected soul shards day and night, and whenever he had time, sat in a magic circle and tried to communicate with demons in the void.
Unfortunately, he had no talent for being a Warlock. All his efforts came to nothing, and he failed to receive the reward he deserved. He only learned to summon an imp, and a dim-witted one that didn't know a single skill at that.
Afterward, Robbie Capor abandoned his studies and became an adventurer. Only then did he learn that Azeroth diamonds and primal black diamonds were of no use whatsoever to a Paladin's cultivation, and that there were vast quantities of them. Certain important figures had deliberately driven up their prices.
Recalling the past, Robbie's emotions surged and he was filled with feeling as he carefully read the Holy Light Codex.
In the Holy Light Codex, the first sentence concerning the Holy Light was:
"The Holy Light has nothing to do with faith."