Through Darian's introduction, Unas also got to know this successor of Tyr's Hand, who had a very familiar name— Marlan Waldemar.
When Unas heard that she had been nominated by Abbendis, Unas heart sank. But Marland seemed unconcerned about the grudge between him and Abbendis. On the surface, he showed no hostility, offered a few diplomatic compliments, and then went to chat with the others.
Once all ten people had arrived, a short while later, a bald, white-browed missionary stepped onto the platform and began to explain the process of the Consecration Ceremony, as well as the content of some oaths. These should be memorized to avoid making a fool of oneself in the solemn and dignified occasion during the ceremony.
Then they need to rehearse it in person. The Consecration Ceremony is like a play, and they are the main actors. They must perform it perfectly.
The morning passed quickly, during which Unas secretly slipped the anonymous letter he had written into Darian's coat.
The letter, written in the guise of a prophet, foretells a future tragedy for Darian —his brother will be possessed by a demon and kill his father, urging him to remain vigilant and protect the Ashbringer's back.
There were two other anonymous letters, one addressed to the other two Mograines, and each contained different content.
The letter to Renault was almost a pep talk, reminding him of the uniqueness of the father-son relationship, that strictness is also a form of fatherly love, and subtly pointing out the danger of Dathrohan, urging Renault to keep his distance from him.
The letter to Alexander was also a prophecy, suggesting that he would die at the hands of his closest confidants, warning him to be wary of those around him, for a demon lurked among them.
Unas didn't dare to mention Balnazzar directly in these three letters, fearing that the letters would bring trouble upon himself if they were exposed. As for how effective they would be, he didn't have high hopes; these letters were very likely to end up as toilet paper.
Watching Darian excitedly trying to get close to Marland, Unas sighed inwardly, "Indeed, those who know nothing are the happiest."
"Seventeen years ago today, the great Archbishop Alonsus Faol, the forerunner of the Holy Light and the spokesperson for the Church, Order of the Silver Hand. Since then, the great profession of Paladin has appeared on the stage of Azeroth's history..."
On the makeshift platform in front of the Cathedral, Dathrohan's deep voice resounded throughout the entire area. It was a great irony that this demon was giving the opening speech for the Consecration Ceremony, but he was now the nominal highest-ranking officer of the Silver Hand, and no one could match him in terms of seniority.
The audience was surrounded by a dense crowd, and the garden in front of the church was packed with people, except for the stone path leading to the church entrance.
The ten people who had been Sanctification had gathered in a corridor leading to the church garden, all mounted on warhorses and fully armed.
Unas was naturally among them. After yesterday's rehearsal, he obediently returned to the cabin and reported for duty early this morning. Darian, who was beside him, seemed a bit off, probably because he hadn't slept well last night. It was unclear whether it was due to nervousness or Unas's anonymous letter.
"... On this anniversary, we remember the glorious achievements of our past heroes and honor the warriors who are fighting for the Holy Light now—they are the future of the Silver Hand!"
After the speech, it was time for them to appear. At the command of the master of ceremonies, the ten men, heads held high and chests out, spurred their horses and stepped onto the stone path one by one. They were greeted by cheers and applause from the crowds on both sides of the road, as well as a dazzling rain of flower petals.
The ten men, some removing their face shields and others their helmets, smiled and waved to the enthusiastic crowd. Accompanied by the stirring sound of bugles, the group arrived at the church doors. They dismounted in unison, and several stable boys quickly led their horses away. Dathrohan was waiting at the door, gestured for them to follow, and the ten men slowly ascended the steps.
The church was no longer filled with the noisy crowd. A dozen rows of Priest stood solemnly on both sides, and the church's spacious central hall seemed somewhat crowded. Almost all the remaining Holy Light spellcasters of Lordaeron had gathered here.
To the left stood a Priests, all dressed in white robes and standing solemnly. Most of them were women. Unas immediately spotted Whitemane, whom he hadn't seen for several days, in the crowd. Her silver hair was so dazzling that it was impossible to ignore. She was staring straight ahead expressionlessly, showing no intention of making eye contact with anyone.
To my right were Paladins clad in heavy armor, each fully armed with gleaming armor. The sight of so many tall, strong figures gathered together created an imposing and awe-inspiring aura.
Unas saw many familiar faces among them: Tyrosus, Pulhart, Korfax, Erigor, and the other Paladins of the Argent Dawn. And at the very front of the first row, the tall figure in full golden armor must be Alexandros Mograine.
The "Ashbringer" sword was slung diagonally across his back, revealing only a small section of the "L"-shaped pommel and the cylindrical silver hilt, much like its design in the game. Unas stared at it for a while, Alexander, with his resolute face, seemed to smile and nod at him.
By this time, the ten men had reached the center of the hall. On the altar directly in front of them, Isillien was waiting with a book as thick as a dictionary in his hand. His kind and benevolent appearance did not resemble that of a villain skilled at framing others.
Following protocol, the ten men knelt in unison on one knee. Isillien, feigning seriousness, opened his dictionary and began to proclaim. "In the call of the Holy Light, we gather here to bestow the power of the Holy Light upon our brothers."
"The radiance of Holy Light transformed it."
"The power of Holy Light has led to its conversion into the masses,"
"The power of Holy Light enabled it to overcome darkness,"
"May the wisdom of the Holy Light guide our people to eternal bliss."
After reciting the prayer, the chief Priest closed his book, took a deep breath, and shouted in his loudest voice to the left, "Priest of Lordaeron, if you are willing to trust them, please bless them!"
Ten white-robed female Priests immediately stepped out from the Priests ' procession, each carrying a dark blue cloak trimmed with silver. As their light footsteps approached, Unas felt a slight weight on his back as a gentle Priest helped him drape the beautiful and sturdy cloak over his shoulders.
Another missionary applied the holy oil to each of their foreheads, and after all ten had been treated, he announced, "Holy Light above, protect your people from pain."
After all the Priests had returned to their positions, Isillien called out to his right, "Paladins of the Silver Hand, if you agree to accept them, please bless them!"
The sounds of various suits of armor rubbing together suddenly filled the air. Unas looked up and saw a group of Paladins approaching them, carrying a weapon he was already very familiar with— the Verigan's Fist.
Erigor was among them. He walked up to Unas with a wicked grin, placed his brand-new Silver Hammer beside Unas's knees, and solemnly recited the ritualistic incantation. "May the power of the Holy Light sweep away all your enemies."
This guy just did what he did... as a guide? Or a blessing? Unas wasn't sure what it was, but he felt like he'd been taken advantage of.