"Stop it!" A shout suddenly rang out in the distance, startling the two men out of their conversation.
A skeletal horse with a pair of ram's horns was being driven toward them. It was the necromancer's mount.
It was like a sheep walking into a tiger's jaws. Gordon shouted, drew his sword, and charged, but Unas hurriedly pulled him back. He couldn't let this maniac smash something as good as a Skeletal Warhorse.
"Watch me!" Unas hurriedly cast a spell.
"Turn Evil." The skill was incredibly effective against an undead creature with so little intelligence. Purple light enveloped the skeletal horse's head, and it fell under the spell again. It spun around and charged straight into a large tree with a bang, sending leaves flying before coming to a stop beside it.
Unas raced over and grabbed its reins. The people nearby gathered around curiously. A thought occurred to him, and with a pop and a puff of smoke, he put the skeletal horse into his backpack. He hurriedly checked it:
"Skeletal Warhorse"—a very fast mount. (Created through a combination of alchemy and necromancy.)
This was amazing!
In the game, his high-level hunter had run Stratholme countless times without getting one. Now it felt like a dream come true, and he couldn't help throwing back his head and laughing.
"What did you do?" Gordon caught up and demanded, interrupting his laughter.
Unas looked around and saw everyone staring at him strangely. He finally calmed down and hurriedly explained, "I put it away. Impressive, right?"
"Look, I'll take it out!" The Skeletal Warhorse appeared in a puff of smoke.
"And put it away!" The Skeletal Warhorse vanished again in another puff of smoke.
"Stop!" Gordon roared. He turned sharply to the others. "What are you all standing around for? Have you finished your tasks?"
The soldiers scattered, talking among themselves. Unas felt a pang of guilt. Had he done something wrong again?
Gordon approached with a serious expression and said in a low voice, "Do you know what you just did? You showed everyone that you could summon an undead creature with ease. That alone is enough to get you burned at the stake!"
Unas was shocked. "A Skeletal Warhorse counts as undead too? Isn't it just a means of transportation?"
"A Skeletal Warhorse might not have much fighting power, but it's still an evil undead creation." Gordon frowned. "How did you do it? Do you have some kind of spatial storage treasure?"
"Yes, yes," Unas hurriedly explained. "I just put it in my storage space. I don't know any necromancy."
Gordon nodded. "You don't have a mount, so consider this Bone Horse your spoils of war. But don't summon him in front of people again, or they might mistake you for a necromancer."
Unas readily agreed, thinking he had better stop showing off and keep a low profile from now on.
Fortunately, he'd been able to keep the Skeletal Warhorse. Unable to contain his joy, he couldn't help grinning and chuckling to himself.
But a smile seemed out of place here. Two soldiers brought over a corpse dressed in a red robe, and Unas recognized him as Wang Dachui, who had struck him twice so viciously the night before.
"It's Jela..." Gordon murmured, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes.
Another comrade turned into a zombie. Unas deeply felt the cruelty of this war against the undead: brothers who fought side by side could become enemies battling to the death the very next moment.
All the corpses, including the bones of the skeleton soldiers, were gathered together and set ablaze. Then Gordon delivered the customary eulogy.
"His name was Jela-De. He came from Haven County. He was a valiant fighter, a... He has finally returned to the embrace of the Holy Light. Holy Light above."
"Holy Light above!" Everyone repeated the words in unison, startling Unas. He hurriedly raised his hand and pretended to shout along.
Fortunately, no one noticed him. Everyone watched the fire in silence, mourning their fallen comrades.
Unas had no idea how much time passed. He was half asleep by the time the fire finally burned out. Gordon, who had been kneeling in prayer the whole time, stood and ordered, "All right, start looking for Scourgestones."
Several soldiers began stirring the ashes with their weapons. Unas woke up and asked curiously, "What are Scourgestones?"
"Some members of the Scourge have a Scourgestone implanted in their bodies after they're born or created. It serves as an energy source and can increase an undead creature's strength. More importantly, it seems to strengthen the Scourge leaders' control over their subordinates," Gordon explained everything he knew. "The mages' academy is collecting them. It would be good if they could use them to find a way to deal with the undead. For us, they can also be exchanged for a little bounty money."
By then, the soldiers had finished searching. They wrapped several Scourgestones in a cloth and handed them to Gordon. Unas leaned over to look. They were just a few black stones, the largest no bigger than a fingernail. He couldn't see anything special about them.
Gordon put the stones away and called out, "Back to camp!"
When they returned to camp, the damned fat Captain Parrion was waiting anxiously by the gate. Seeing them return, he hurried over to greet them. Gordon ignored him and, without dismounting, spoke sternly to everyone. "I have urgent military intelligence to report. You will remain stationed here. If there is any further dereliction of duty, I will execute you on the spot under military law!"
Without waiting for Parrion to respond, he beckoned to Unas, turned his horse, and galloped toward the mountain road.
"I'm borrowing your horse." Unas tossed the two wild rabbits hanging from the horse's neck to the damned fat man and spoke to him in passing.
"But my armor..."
The damned fat man actually dared ask him for his equipment. What a joke! Hadn't he heard that Paladins were never greedy and never gave up?
Unas wanted to tell him, Captain, surely that fat of yours is enough to stop ordinary swords and blades. What do you need armor for?
But Gordon was already getting far ahead, so Unas turned his horse and spurred it after him, calling back from a distance, "I'll give it back to you someday."
Parrion felt like crying, but had no tears. His warhorse and full suit of armor were the two most valuable things he owned, and Unas had taken them both. He felt as though he'd been robbed.
The mountain road grew steeper and steeper, living up to the name "Distant Mountain." The camp gradually disappeared from sight, and there was no sign of human life around them. Unable to resist, Unas secretly summoned the Skeletal Warhorse and mounted it for a try.
Sure enough, it was very different from a living horse. Its gait was much smoother and its speed much faster. Most importantly, it looked incredibly cool!
Right, everyone liked to give their warhorse a name. Gordon's black horse was called "Black Wind," so this one could be called "Cool Wind"—not the farting kind, of course.
He caught up to Gordon before he knew it. Gordon turned to glance at him but didn't say anything to reproach him.
Relieved, Unas grew curious and asked cautiously, "What's the urgent military intelligence?"
"Dreadlord Betherez," Gordon replied with a question of his own. "Have you heard of him?"
Unas remembered some of the Warcraft 3 campaign story concerning the Dreadlords. After the great demon Archimonde the Defiler was killed, the Burning Legion's second invasion of this world ended in failure. The Scourge, a force subordinate to the Burning Legion, fell apart soon afterward.
In Tirisfal Glades, three factions—Arthas, the three Dreadlord leaders, and Sylvanas Windrunner—vied for power. Arthas grew weaker and weaker after the Lich King Ner'zhul was injured and was forced to flee to the frozen continent of Northrend to merge with the Lich King. Two of the three Dreadlord leaders died, and one surrendered. In the end, the Dark Lady Sylvanas emerged victorious.
The names of the Dreadlord race were all a bit of a mouthful. Unas vaguely remembered that none of the three Dreadlord leaders seemed to be called Betherez, so he could only shake his head and answer, "I don't know."
"It seems you really aren't from Lordaeron. It's a notoriously evil creature. Its infamy had been spreading for many years before the Scourge war broke out. After the war began, he appeared before the public as a leader of the Scourge," Gordon explained patiently. "My mission was originally just to search for surviving human villages in the area. I didn't expect to find its stronghold this time. My chest was injured by its magic."
As though recalling the bloody battle to break through the encirclement, Gordon suddenly fell silent. It was in that encounter that he had lost two loyal comrades.
The two rode in silence for a long time. The sun had nearly reached its zenith when Gordon suddenly spoke. "Put the Bone Horse away. There's a checkpoint ahead."
Unas did as he was told and switched to Parrion's brown horse. After they rode a little farther, an outpost appeared ahead.
The flag of Lordaeron was flying, though the sword design that had originally been blue and the letter "L" representing Lordaeron had both been changed to bright red.
A barricade made of several cheval-de-frise blocked the middle of the mountain road. Four fully armed soldiers stood ready behind it, while more red-robed soldiers ran out of a two-story fortress nearby.
Gordon stopped thirty meters from the barricade, and Unas stopped with him.
A mounted figure also appeared at the outpost ahead. He wore a white surcoat bearing a blue two-headed eagle, making him conspicuous among the red-robed soldiers. In both hands, he held an enormous silver, long-handled warhammer. A golden rune was etched into its silver-inlaid head, while its sturdy handle was wrapped in blue leather.
"Gordon." The blue-robed knight spoke the name in a cold, utterly toneless voice, as though a stone man were greeting him.
"Durand." Gordon's response was equally brief.
Durand lifted his visor, revealing a handsome, fair-skinned face. His blue eyes fixed on Gordon, his face utterly expressionless. "You've come back alive again."
"Yes." Another brief answer. Gordon clearly had no desire to waste words on him.
"And who are you? You look unfamiliar." Durand turned to Unas.
"He's Unas Lawguard, a wandering Paladin. He saved my life this time," Gordon answered for Unas.
"A wandering Paladin? Heh." A hint of mockery appeared at the corner of Durand's mouth. "Any Paladin who could save the Flame Knight must be powerful. I'd very much like to test him..."
"Get on with it!" Gordon shouted, cutting off his provocation. "I have urgent military intelligence to report. You can't bear the blame for delaying it!"
Faced with the furious Gordon, Durand was somewhat wary and did not press the matter. He merely left them with a threat. "Hmph. Someone will deal with you two."
He beckoned to the side, and a petite figure in white robes, dressed like a Priest, stepped forward. The Priest's face was hidden in the shadow of her hood, but her outline suggested she was a woman. She raised a cross-topped staff, and two points of white light shot toward them.
Seeing that Gordon didn't dodge, Unas also remained still and let a beam of white light strike him. It enveloped his body, filling him with a warm feeling, but otherwise nothing unusual happened.
The white-robed Priest nodded to Durand. In a soft female voice, she said, "They're both alive."
Durand ordered the soldiers to move the barricade. Two soldiers ran over and told them to dismount for an inspection.
They had to be searched too?
This was definitely Durand using his position to settle a personal grudge. Gordon didn't want to waste any more time, so he dismounted obediently without resisting. Unas had no choice but to dismount and submit to the search as well.
With the famed Flame Knight standing before them, the two soldiers conducting the search didn't dare go too far. They quickly finished, and the two were allowed through.