The crisis was indeed not over. The Ghoul driven away by Turn Evil had not come back, which was good news. Unas had to admit he had been lucky: the skill's success rate was not high, and a little more mental resistance from the enemy could easily render it ineffective.
But a group of seven or eight skeletons and zombies appeared. They were the Undead who had surrounded Gordon earlier. They moved slowly and had only just arrived.
Fortunately, they did not dare set foot on the ground scorched by Consecration, and only wandered more than twenty meters away. Without a necromancer to command them, they were a disorganized mob.
Unas raised his sword and pointed it at a skeleton. Golden light shot out, and the skeletal soldier fell apart with a clatter.
This experience is so easy to get, I ******. Unas fired Judgment three times in succession, breaking apart two more skeletal soldiers. The other Undead immediately scattered, shuffling slowly off into the depths of the mountain forest.
"Paladins... really are the bane of the Undead..." Gordon remained at death's door.
Having driven off the enemy, Unas caught his breath and began casting a healing spell on Gordon.
When the Holy Light cast finished, the wound on Gordon's shoulder seemed to heal, but split open again the next second.
"Stop... it's no use anymore..."
"But..." Unas did not want to give up.
"A level-one Holy Light... can't heal me. I used to be... a Paladin myself. I know..." Gordon said haltingly.
Unas was very curious. Why used to be? Paladins were pretty powerful, so why had he stopped being one?
But he did not interrupt Gordon. The man looked like he had plenty more last words to say.
"My family served as guardian knights to the royal family of Lordaeron for generations. As soon as I came of age, I was chosen for the Silver Hand and became a noble Paladin. That was the greatest honor anyone could hope for... cough, cough." Gordon began recounting his life. "Until that massacre..."
"I took part in that massacre... the culling of Stratholme..."
"I couldn't disobey Prince Arthas's orders. Men, women, the elderly, children... I killed every resident who appeared before me..."
"From then on... I couldn't sleep..."
"Whenever I closed my eyes, their dying screams, their agonized pleas, their disbelieving expressions... would all appear before me again... cough, cough." He coughed up a little more bloody froth.
"We were supposed to be their protectors..."
"Gradually, I could no longer sense the Holy Light... I fled the order and went back to my hometown, hoping to find a little warmth..."
"But what awaited me was a home overrun by the Undead. My family had been destroyed too..."
"I wandered from place to place and watched this country be destroyed by the Scourge..."
"Revenge! Revenge was all I had left in my heart. I would have revenge on Arthas and his Scourge!" At that, he began coughing violently, blood pouring from the corners of his mouth.
"Calm down, calm down," Unas hurriedly comforted him.
"Although I lost the power of the Holy Light, I was still a powerful Warrior. I joined the North Maple Legion and took on the most dangerous missions, just to kill more Undead..."
"Until now..."
"It seems my journey in this world... is ending here. I hope that in the next world, I can find... redemption!"
Only then did his eyes fill with tears. They were tears of regret and unwillingness to accept his fate, perhaps.
"I'll use Redemption on you," Unas said earnestly.
"You? Heh... cough, cough, cough..." As though he had heard a joke, Gordon gave a bitter laugh that disturbed his wound and sent him coughing again.
Cough yourself to death, you ungrateful bastard, Unas thought. I'm kindly preparing to resurrect you, and you go "heh" at me?
"Paladin, to thank you for helping me, let me give you a gift. Cough, cough..."
At the mention of a gift, Unas's mood immediately improved. He put on his mother's usual act. "Oh, there's no need to give me a gift! I'd be so embarrassed."
"This ring..." Gordon ignored his nonsense and raised his charred left hand slightly. An utterly unremarkable black ring was on his middle finger. "It's the secret to how I can control fire elementals. Now it's yours."
He no longer had the strength to take the ring off, and Unas was too embarrassed to pull it off a badly wounded man's finger.
"To use this ring, you also need a secret incantation..."
Unas hurriedly leaned closer, not wanting to miss a single word Gordon said.
"The incantation is... cough, cough, cough, cough, cough..." Gordon suddenly began coughing violently, spitting out mouthful after mouthful of blood. After the last mouthful, he abruptly collapsed to the ground and lay motionless, his slightly raised left hand falling to the ground as well.
Unas checked his pulse. There was nothing. Gordon had actually died just like that!
Unas nearly spat out a mouthful of period blood. What kind of melodramatic plot was this?!
He rambled on and on about a bunch of useless stuff, then kicked the bucket as soon as he got to the important part. Could the incantation be "cough, cough, cough, cough, cough"? But that raises a question: was it five coughs or six?
What a bastard. Still, no matter what, he had to resurrect him. They counted as comrades, after all; he could not just leave him to die.
Unas resentfully reached out and cast Redemption. Golden light rolled over Gordon's body, and his wounds gradually began to heal.
The cast time was unexpectedly long. Probably because Gordon had suffered so many injuries and his body was so badly damaged, the spell took five or six minutes to finish. Unas's vision went black, and he sank to the ground, exhausted. His head was burning, the spot between his brows throbbed violently, and waves of dizziness swept over him, as though a little person were jumping around inside his head.
Ignoring all that, he went over to check Gordon's body. It looked as though he really had brought him back to life. Gordon's constantly furrowed brow had smoothed out, and he lay unconscious with a peaceful expression. The wounds all over his body had scabbed over, and his breathing was very steady.
But this was no place to sleep. Surrounded by the shattered, charred corpses of the Undead, he would surely have nightmares.
Unas kicked Gordon's thigh. There was no response. There was no need to stand on ceremony with this guy, so he went straight for something harder and kicked Gordon's injured shoulder.
"Ah—hiss!" Gordon cried out in pain and sat bolt upright.
He stared wide-eyed at his surroundings. "This... isn't hell?"
"Of course not. I resurrected you. I told you I'd use Redemption on you." Unas showed off with an air of nonchalance.
"But..." Gordon's face was full of disbelief.
"No buts. What was that ring incantation again? Don't misunderstand, I'm just curious. I don't want your ring." Unas did not mean what he said.
Gordon ignored him and examined his own body, muttering in shock, "I really have been resurrected... I remember now. I seemed to be falling through endless darkness, and I'd almost reached the gates of hell, but then a light appeared. It warmed my gradually cooling soul and pulled me back. It seems you really did resurrect me. Holy Light above, it's a miracle!"
He looked at Unas with shining eyes. Unas could hardly stand it. This damn gay guy, it's enough that you know. Hurry up and get on your knees and call me big brother, and hand over your wife, daughter, ring, and incantation to repay me!
"Resurrection! This is the legendary divine spell that only Uther the Lightbringer, the grand master of the Silver Hand, can master. What is your relationship with him?"
"Uh... we both have names that start with U?"
The joke did not make Gordon laugh at all. He looked Unas up and down and said doubtfully, "You can't possibly have any connection to him. How do you know this spell?"
"I don't know either. Somehow, I just learned it." Unas made something up on the spot. How could he tell him about being a transmigrator?
"Then there's only one possibility—you are Holy-favored."
"Holy-favored? Sounds pretty cool."
"The Holy-favored are people born able to use certain Holy Light spells. They are a gift from the Holy Light to His most devout believers. Such people are extremely rare and precious, and the church has always sought them out. Once found, they are given every resource to develop their abilities and entrusted with important duties." Gordon seemed to think of something at that point and changed tack. "Unfortunately, your identity is still a problem."
"What's wrong with my identity?" Unas was uneasy. His identity as a transmigrator really was a big problem.
"As I see it, you appeared out of nowhere. Sometimes having unknown origins is a crime in itself. That story about losing your memory won't fool the people in the Inquisition. They certainly won't let you off easily. If you want the monastery's recognition and protection, you have to get past the Inquisition."
"The monastery? Is it the Scarlet Monastery? And what does the Inquisition do? It sounds terrifying."
Gordon sighed. "I don't know where this Scarlet Monastery you're talking about is. I only know the Distant Mountain Monastery, where the North Maple Legion is headquartered. As for the Inquisition, do you know who was responsible for the greatest destruction inflicted on this country? It wasn't Arthas, or the Scourge, but an evil cult made up of humans—the Cult of the Damned. They worship the Lich King as the true god and spread plague everywhere, turning countless humans into Undead creatures. Those human traitors are the real culprits who destroyed this country."
"As for the Inquisition, its original duty was to investigate misconduct within the church. But now, with the kingdom ruined and homes destroyed, its main targets have become all spies and traitors."
"But I'm a representative of the Holy Light—a Paladin! I couldn't possibly be a spy," Unas protested.
"There are plenty of scoundrels among Paladins too. Arthas was a Paladin before he fell, and because I lost the Holy Light's favor, I'm still on the list of those who aren't trusted." Gordon's eyes dimmed, as though he had recalled something unpleasant.
"Worst comes to worst, I just won't go to your headquarters."
"Then where can you go?" Gordon countered. "Lordaeron's royal capital and the nearby territories have all been occupied by the Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner. Although she claims to be irreconcilably opposed to the Scourge, the Forsaken are Undead too, and the Undead won't accept the living. The northern ports are a dead end as well. All the ships were taken by people fleeing the disaster, and wandering Undead creatures are everywhere in the wild. The Distant Mountain Monastery is humanity's last refuge in Tirisfal Glades."
Unas was in no mood to investigate how the Scarlet Monastery had become the Distant Mountain Monastery. He had no wilderness survival skills whatsoever; alone in the wild, he would probably starve to death in two days. Having transmigrated to such a dangerous place, he did not know what to do for the moment.
"Actually, there's no need to be so troubled. As long as you follow the path of the Holy Light and do righteous deeds, the Inquisition can't do anything to you," Gordon said reassuringly, seeing his worried expression.
I'll take it one step at a time. Unas could not think of a good solution either. Having transmigrated to this world alone, he was like rootless duckweed. For now, his only option was to follow Gordon and depend on him for a living. He had saved Gordon's life, so presumably Gordon would not treat him poorly.
The twin moons were high overhead. Before they knew it, it was already midnight.
"What about Hal and Hake? Why haven't I seen them?" Gordon suddenly asked.
"They both died in battle." Remembering Hal and Hake's gruesome state, Unas felt distressed.
Gordon seemed to have anticipated this outcome and showed no surprise. He only asked urgently, "Can you still cast the spell to resurrect them?"
"I'll try." Unas was not sure either. Although his status had been fully restored after leveling up, he had cast spell after spell to drive off the enemy, and resurrecting Gordon had consumed almost all the energy he had left. He was now in terrible shape, and Redemption had a twenty-four-hour cooldown, meaning he could only resurrect one person a day. But lives were at stake, so he had to try.
Gordon gave a whistle, and a little while later, Black Wind came running out of the forest. The two quickly mounted and galloped toward the camp.