Unas returned to the island feeling at a loss. Perhaps Erigor had been right: the Banshee really had stolen most of his soul.
The Paladins welcomed him back to the temporary camp. Judging by the look on his face, they all assumed the negotiations had gone badly, and for a moment no one asked any questions.
"What were you yelling your head off about just now? We thought you were under attack and nearly charged over there." Erigor gave him a punch.
Unas could only grin foolishly and brush it off. "Heh heh, it was nothing. The scenery on the lake was so beautiful that I just had to let my feelings out."
"How did the negotiations go?" someone finally asked.
Unas told them the other side's conditions, and everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Pulhart asked, "How long until the Blue Child appears?"
"She said a little over an hour."
Pulhart pressed on. "What's the exact time?"
The Paladins looked at one another, but no one could answer. Someone said, "I'll go find someone to calculate the time."
What a bunch of illiterate Paladins, Unas grumbled inwardly. How can they lead troops into battle if they can't even calculate the time?
"Well done, Unas. You've rendered another great service. I'll recommend you in my report, and I look forward to the day you officially join the Silver Hand." Pulhart took the opportunity to commend him for his achievement.
"Thank you, sir." Unas was sincerely grateful. He had transmigrated here all alone and always felt somewhat insecure. If he could join a powerful military organization like the Silver Hand and have it at his back, he would feel much more at ease.
Several Paladins around him offered their congratulations, and he returned each one in turn. These people would all be his colleagues in the future, so he couldn't afford to be impolite.
Just then, the fellow who had gone to find someone to calculate the time returned. "Reporting, sir. There's one hour and twenty-three minutes until the Blue Child appears."
"That's still enough time. Everyone must be ready to depart before then. Sylvanas won't tolerate a second delay," Pulhart ordered loudly.
"Yes, sir!" The Paladins immediately split up and got to work. Unas also ran toward Bessarius's granary. He was going to enjoy being a porter for a little while longer.
The White Lady, white as jade, finally appeared in the sky. Apart from those guarding the prisoners, all the Argent Dawn's officers and soldiers gathered before the two great openings behind the hill.
A total of 289 people had fallen in this battle, and the enemy corpses were too numerous to count. Most of the bodies had been burned on the spot by the Dreadlord's sacrificial fire, but a small number remained. They had now all been carried into the granary, with plenty of combustible firewood laid beneath each corpse.
Because of the threat of the Undead, the people of Lordaeron had long since abandoned the custom of burial. Only by burning corpses to ashes could they prevent the peace of the dead from being disturbed.
The Argent Dawn could not take the bodies of the fallen with them, but neither could they leave them to the Forsaken—that would be like sending sheep into a tiger's jaws. They could only cremate them on the spot.
The armory was completely empty, and there were still some supplies left in the granary cave, but the Argent Dawn no longer had the time or manpower to retrieve them. Apart from the women and children, every person and beast was already carrying more supplies than they could bear.
They would let the grain accompany the fallen soldiers to heaven. Leaving it behind would only aid the enemy. Although the Forsaken did not need to eat, nothing stopped them from trading the grain for other supplies.
Unas's Spatial Bag was stuffed full, and there were several sacks of wheat at his feet, ready for him to carry on his shoulders. Any waste was shameful.
Pulhart was delivering a eulogy. After his impassioned speech, everyone would observe a moment of silence, and then the fire would be lit.
Unas went over to Pulhart and waited until he had finished speaking before asking to speak with him in private. Pulhart did not refuse.
The two walked to an empty spot where no one else was around. Unas hesitated before speaking. "Actually... I can use Resurrection."
"I've heard that rumor." Pulhart's expression was calm.
Unas found it a little strange that he wasn't surprised. Thinking Pulhart didn't believe him, he explained, "But my Resurrection can only bring one person back every twenty-four hours. I've already used it today. The person I brought back was Darion Mograine. He's at the wounded soldiers' camp on the other shore now. You can ask him to confirm it later."
"There's no need to confirm it. I believe you're telling the truth. You're a brave Holy-favored, not a liar." Pulhart's tone remained calm.
Unas was even more puzzled. Was Resurrection really worth so little? He continued, "By tomorrow afternoon, I'll be able to resurrect another person. If we leave three bodies unburned now, I might be able to resurrect two more people the day after tomorrow and the day after that."
He didn't dare say anything about the days after that. By then, the bodies might be too badly decomposed for Resurrection to succeed.
"I don't think you can," Pulhart said with certainty.
"Why?" Now it was Unas's turn to be surprised. What made him so sure?
"I once studied Resurrection myself. The existence of this legendary spell was confirmed because of Azeroth's first Paladin, Uther the Lightbringer." Pulhart looked up at the night sky, seemingly in remembrance of this spokesperson for the Holy Light.
"Lord Uther admitted that he could use the spell, but in the end, he publicly declared Resurrection a forbidden art. Do you know why?"
Unas shook his head. Why forbid such a powerful spell?
Pulhart explained, "Resurrection has many restrictions, such as the one you mentioned about only resurrecting one person a day. As far as I know, there are other conditions. For example, the body must be largely intact. It can never succeed on someone whose head has been separated from their body. Also, the person must have died within the past one or two hours. After that, the chance of success becomes infinitesimally close to zero. That's why I don't think you can succeed."
Unas refused to give up. "As long as it's not zero, I can give it a try tomorrow."
"It's not just the spell's own restrictions, but also the effects it has. In a major campaign, it's impossible for only one person to die. Among so many fallen, whom should you choose to resurrect?"
"No matter whom you choose, the friends and families of the other fallen will be dissatisfied. I imagine Lord Uther must have been troubled by this problem too."
"Have you thought it through? Of the 289 who fell this time, whom will you choose to resurrect? Even if you succeed tomorrow, the person you choose will be grateful to you, but you must be prepared to face the anger of the other dead soldiers' families."
Unas was stunned by his words. He hadn't thought that far.
Pulhart continued, "The Holy Light teaches us to treat every person's life equally. Though realistically speaking, Baron Tyrosus's life is indeed far more important than an ordinary soldier's, no one would be foolish enough to go around promoting that idea."
Unas knew that "all men are created equal" in the United States' Declaration of Independence was actually the greatest lie of all, but people still had to uphold it because it was politically correct for Americans.
"But there were other reasons Lord Uther ultimately declared that he would no longer use Resurrection." Pulhart seemed to have talked himself dry, and he left Unas in suspense.
"What reasons?"
"Let's talk about it later. The moment of silence is over. It's time to light the fire."
Pulhart and several officers carried torches to the cave entrance. Together, they recited a few lines of sacred scripture, then tossed the torches into the firewood soaked in grease.
Crackling sounds rang out as the roaring flames quickly spread throughout the cave. The mixed aromas of roasted meat, corn, and wheat entered Unas's nostrils, reminding him of the barbecue street at XX Square.
To think of that at such a solemn and sorrowful moment gave Unas a sense of absurdity.