Holy Light Endures Forever, the Shadow Emperor Lives On

The main structure of the Great Lecture Hall was being destroyed by explosive fel energy. The vast amounts of fel energy pouring from the summoning ritual below were like concentrated sulfuric acid, corroding and melting everything they touched.

Sarkir stood alone before the summoning ritual, which could now be called a "Fel Well," maintaining the operation of the massive ritual through his own power.

Why weren't the other members of the Awakeners' Cult helping?

Good question!

Take a look at the corpses of the high-ranking warlocks assigned to guard the magic circle, strewn everywhere. While Sarkir and Archimonde were enthusiastically beating the hell out of each other, the elite members of the Assassin Court had not been idle.

Although Dick had instructed Captain Neri to ensure Archimonde's death, circumstances had forced their hand.

Given the world-ending battle between Sarkir and Archimonde, forget Captain Neri—even if Talgas himself had come, he might not have dared launch a sneak attack. Besides, the Assassin Court had their own performance quotas to meet. Who had the time to linger by Archimonde's side, waiting to take his life at any moment?

Neri had made a very correct choice.

She and her team had infiltrated underground the moment chaos broke out on the surface, doing their utmost to kill the warlocks guarding the large-scale summoning ritual. But just as they used holy water blessed by the naaru to destroy the filthy ritual site littered with bones and corpses, Sarkir arrived.

There was no need to elaborate on what happened afterward.

In short, Captain Neri, covered in blood and suffering from three curses, was now carrying the foul-mouthed assassin Yura on her back while dragging Malas, Yura's straight woman, by the hand, struggling to break out through the constantly collapsing structure.

Of an entire elite operation team, only the three of them had survived. Everyone else had been thrown into the summoning ritual by Sarkir as sacrifices of flesh and blood.

That old wizard, already on the verge of Demon Ascension, was clearly not something high-ranking assassins like them could handle. After he activated the summoning ritual and allowed berserk creatures from the starry sea to swarm into the material world, all that remained was for General Elodus's capital garrison legion to deal with it.

Still, the Assassin Court had not done too badly. Aside from Sarkir and the warlocks roaming the surface, most of the Awakeners' Cult's core forces had been eliminated amid the chaos.

The coup this cult had intended to launch had been declared bankrupt before it even began. The only problem was that the cleanup had gone a little poorly.

"My allowance is getting docked for this."

Neri sucked in a breath as she watched the green pillar of light shooting into the sky. Enduring the pain, she sighed.

"I'll probably get exiled to some subordinate office to sit behind a desk, too."

"Look on the bright side. At least we survived."

The foul-mouthed assassin on her back spoke weakly.

"Damn it, working for the Assassin Court is getting harder and harder. We used to deal with thugs and bandits, maybe take care of a crazed smuggler or lunatic mage now and then.

"But now? We have to fight demons head-on.

"Captain, why don't we use this chance to change careers?"

"You can still joke around and spout nonsense. Looks like you're fine."

Neri's little tail hurt terribly, but she still cursed.

"Say less. I'm getting you out of here."

The three had been lucky. Their escape route from the underground ritual area was not far from the Great Lecture Hall's exit. Neri gripped her hunting gun in one hand, continuously blowing apart the scaled heads of nearby felhounds while shielding her two subordinates as they fled. Yet they were soon surrounded by even more demons.

Neri and the two assassins were forced against the outer wall of the lecture hall. The felhounds, hungry for flesh, used bizarre tentacles as eyes and approached them while corrosive drool dripped constantly from their jaws.

The high-ranking ranger knew she could not escape.

She raised her head and watched the demons repeatedly battering the wall of Holy Light in the sky. The priests of the Naaru Temple had indeed made thorough preparations.

That put her at ease.

She knew that even if she died here, the demons would not find it easy to break out and harm the citizens of Oronaar City.

"Captain..."

The foul-mouthed assassin beside her tossed gem throwing knives one-handed as she spoke quietly.

"There's a secret I never told you. If I don't say it now, there won't be time. Haven't you always suspected that Malas and I were having an affair? The good news is, your suspicion was right. The bad news is—"

"Shut up, Yura!"

Neri was busy loading shells into her hunting gun and throwing explosives. How could she have time to listen to her subordinate ramble on? She snapped.

"I don't care about your damned office romance! Get your spirits up! Even if we die, those of us from the Assassin Court must die with dignity—"

Pfft!

Before she could finish, a war spear suddenly flew from the darkness nearby. It struck a felhound lunging at Neri and pinned it to the ground.

Under the astonished stares of Neri and Yura, a dazzling burst of Holy Light erupted before them. Then a powerful Vindicator leaped down from above.

The burly figure swung a gem warhammer, charging left and right as golden Holy Light flashed around him, driving back the approaching felhounds.

Behind the ferocious old Vindicator followed a team of five young warriors. They were fully equipped and seemed very familiar with demon tactics. The five moved together like a whirlwind, swiftly clearing a path for escape.

Fareeya rushed over, grabbed her war spear, and glanced at Neri, Yura, and the person beside them whose fate was unknown. Panting, she asked.

"Can you still move? Get out, quickly! General Elodus's thunder elephant heavy cavalry is advancing. Find them!"

"Ah, okay. Thanks."

Neri hoisted Malas over her shoulder, helped Yura to her feet, and headed outside. But only seconds later, after the valiant old Vindicator smashed a shrieking succubus to death, he turned and asked.

"You're from the Assassin Court? Is Dick in there?"

"Huh?"

Neri froze for a moment.

Then she realized that this powerful squad had come to rescue Commander Diakum. She nodded and pointed toward the collapsing Great Lecture Hall.

"Dick's inside. When we escaped, I think we saw him taking two little mage girls underground! Sarkir's down there. Damn it, hurry up and bring him back!

"Sarkir isn't a monster normal people can handle anymore. He slaughtered my entire team by himself."

"Children, follow me!"

Vindicator Malderan immediately breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that Dick was still alive.

Gem warhammer in hand, he charged without hesitation into the demon-occupied ruins of the Great Lecture Hall amid flashing Holy Light. The Five Young Champions rushed in after him.

They could have remained at the Arcane Academy, where victory was already assured, and rested. But when they noticed Vindicator Malderan leave alone, they realized they still had another task to complete, so they followed him.

Yet compared to the smooth suppression of the rebellion at the Arcane Academy, the Great Lecture Hall was a true land of demons.

Here, the Five Young Champions saw not only the lesser demons they had beaten in the Demon Unmatched Trial, but also many more vicious and crazed mid- and high-ranking demons.

There were even at least seven or eight Doomguards, the final bosses of the trial.

With their strength, accidentally entering this true high-level zone meant certain death if their luck was even slightly worse.

Malderan realized this as well. After the six of them charged forward and eliminated a squad of demon guards, he turned and shouted at the Five Young Champions.

"You retreat! Hold the passage outside and contact General Elodus's scouts. Tell him his only, disappointing nephew is here, and have him send reinforcements immediately."

"You're General Elodus's nephew? Oh my god."

The blunt Imira cried out.

"With such an incredible background, why are you still the deputy captain of security at the Arcane Academy? Weren't you born with a golden spoon in your mouth?"

"Is this really the time to discuss that?"

Fareeya had also felt their helplessness against powerful demons. She knocked Imira, who always failed to grasp the point, on the head. Rather than stubbornly following Vindicator Malderan forward, she decisively led the team in retreat.

But only a few minutes later, the Five Young Champions ran into the Twins, who were using ice and fire to battle a Shivarra Destroyer. The two were also trying to head outside.

But they had been unlucky enough to be targeted by a powerful demon.

"Help!"

Fareeya shouted, and the Five Young Champions immediately formed up and charged forward.

Imira, serving as their healer, was extremely unwilling to heal the bad classmates she did not get along with. But she was a priest, after all. As she approached, she waved her healing staff and cast two recovery spells on the battered Twins.

Seeing reinforcements arrive, the Twins immediately rallied and coordinated with them.

Genius spellcasters like them only needed a tank to hold back the enemy and secure a safe casting distance. Even powerful demons could be dealt with quickly.

A minute later, the voluptuous and seductive six-armed Destroyer was frozen solid, then had half its body blasted away by a Pyroblast Fireball. Only then did the panting Twins have time to catch their breath.

They pointed behind them and screamed.

"Commander Diakum charged underground alone! He said something about having to preserve fate and told us to leave first. He said he could handle things below, but we don't think he can.

"Sarkir defeated Archimonde. Even though we killed the headmaster and his lackeys, Sarkir is clearly an opponent on another level.

"He needs help!"

"Vindicator Malderan has already gone down. He told us to seek help from General Elodus."

Fareeya braced herself on her war spear and spoke to the Twins.

"How long would it take to get out on foot? Can you still teleport? Hurry and send us out to find reinforcements!"

"We can only use random teleportation!"

Oreses turned back in terror toward the still-expanding fel storm. She said in a low voice.

"Fel energy interferes too severely with arcane magic. I can only guarantee that we'll be sent somewhere else in Mac'Aree, but I can't guarantee where we'll land."

"Then hurry!"

Usually quiet, the swordsman Tramon raised his greatsword stained with demon blood and barked.

"The Eredun Doomguard above has noticed us. With the combat strength of an upper demon like that, we can't defeat it right now!"

"Saloras, quickly! Teleport!"

The rational younger sister grabbed her elder sister's hand. In that instant, the two genius spellcasters, born with psychic resonance, began casting at five hundred percent synchronization. Just as the Doomguard above roared and brought its cursed greatsword crashing down upon them, the flowing light of arcane teleportation enveloped the group, and they vanished from where they stood with a whoosh.

Boom!

The massive demon blade struck the ground, triggering an exaggerated fel eruption like molten lava, but it had achieved nothing.

Random teleportation was absolutely a last-resort lifesaving measure for spellcasters, only used when every other option had failed. Even spellcasters like Archimonde and Sarkir could not guarantee that a random teleport would land somewhere safe. If they got embedded in a building, they would truly be finished.

It was practically gambling with their lives!

But the Five Young Champions and the Twins were lucky tonight.

When the arcane radiance faded, the seven of them fell into a brief stupor from the violent arcane shock.

Before they could recover, crystal war spears wrapped in Holy Light surrounded them. The seven looked up to see several towering guards protected by Holy Light and clad in sacred war armor staring coldly at them.

"Children, don't be afraid!"

A familiar, gentle voice rang out ahead.

After the Chosen of the Holy Light stepped aside to open a path, the bedraggled seven stared in shock at the Eredar Grand Executor, Lord Velen, standing before them with a smile. In his hand was T'uure, Beacon of the Naaru, the legendary Holy Light artifact gifted to him by the naaru.

Damn it!

Their random teleport had sent them near the Naaru Temple, where they had happened to encounter the Grand Executor meditating there.

This was why mages thought quickly in critical moments. While the Five Young Champions were still terrified, the Twins exchanged a glance and immediately cried out.

"Grand Executor! Please go to the lecture hall in Oronaar City and save them! A demon army is invading Argus under the guidance of Sarkir the Enlightener! Commander Diakum is trying to stop the disaster alone, but he—"

"What?"

Grand Executor Velen's expression shifted slightly.

A few hours ago, he had indeed learned from Archimonde's shameless tip-off that the Awakeners' Cult intended to launch a coup. But his most trusted brother, Kil'jaeden, had told him that everything had been arranged and that Velen need not worry.

After all, he was merely a spellcaster and was not skilled at strategic deployments and military arrangements. So, as he had in the past, the Grand Executor had entrusted the matter to his reliable brother.

But judging from the horrifying wounds on these seven young people and the sickening stains of demon blood, tonight's events had clearly spiraled out of control.

"Children, hold on. This may be a little dizzying."

Velen decisively touched the Holy Light artifact in his hand to the ground. Vast arcane brilliance flashed around the Grand Executor and transformed into dazzling runes, wrapping around himself, the seven young people, and the six Chosen of the Holy Light guarding him.

Then, with a sweep of the artifact, the group vanished instantly.

When they reappeared, they had crossed more than half of Mac'Aree and arrived atop an observation tower in the heights of Oronaar City.

Velen's heart now leaned toward the Holy Light.

He greatly liked the Holy Light Doctrine's teachings of urging people toward goodness. Yet as Grand Executor, he had still not made up his mind to convert.

He remained the most powerful Arcane Mage in the world of Argus. His talent and spellcasting ability were enough to rival geniuses such as Sarkir and Archimonde. His group teleportation was both swift and stable. Braving fel interference, he had precisely brought everyone to their destination, a technique leagues beyond the Twins.

"By Argus!"

When Velen saw with his own eyes the dark green radiance piercing heaven and earth, along with the hideous demons pouring out in endless streams, he finally understood that Diakum's astonishing intelligence report and Archimonde's exaggerated tip-off had not overstated the threat of the Burning Legion at all.

Rather, he and Kil'jaeden had underestimated the malice among the stars!

Yet the streets of the old city were filled with fully armed thunder elephant cavalry compressing the demons' positions, while the priests of the Naaru Temple worked together to uphold a wall of Holy Light preventing demons from crossing it. His brother Kil'jaeden's proper arrangements had ensured that the demons could not harm his people.

However, as an exceptional Arcane Mage, Velen saw the problem at a glance.

If the massive summoning ritual still operating could not be disrupted quickly, the number of demons would soon exceed the limit the garrison legion could handle.

"Follow me!"

The Grand Executor's face darkened as he issued an order to his powerful Chosen of the Holy Light guards, Holy Light staff in hand.

He instructed the seven young people to quickly find General Elodus. Then he used another group teleportation spell to send himself and his guards directly into the battlefield of the old city. Seconds later, a huge barrage of falling meteors blanketed the main area of the Great Lecture Hall.

The meteors, trailing long tails of flame as they fell, were astonishingly destructive. In an instant, they suppressed the rampant demons' arrogance.

Worthy of the Grand Executor.

Yet at the same time, in a secure area of Oronaar City, Commander Kil'jaeden, personally overseeing the situation, immediately rose to his feet when he saw the signature meteor spell appear.

The calm on his stern face was finally shattered.

He knew that the person who should not have appeared here had come after all.

"Shouldn't my brother Velen be meditating at the Naaru Temple? Why has he appeared on the battlefield?"

Kil'jaeden looked toward Talgas, who had returned to report, and barked the question. Talgas was helpless as well. In that instant, the working man was utterly exhausted.

Did you have some misunderstanding about your brother's strength?

He was a legendary spellcaster comparable to Sarkir. He could go wherever he wanted. Was that something the head of the Assassin Court could decide?

"Ah, I hate surprises!"

Kil'jaeden waved for his guards to bring him his gem sword and shield. He descended from the command post and mounted his war thunder elephant. Soon, the commander's guard began advancing toward the old city battlefield, but Kil'jaeden's thoughts were not on the demons.

He had made proper preparations, even inviting a naaru guardian.

That was his final trump card!

He was certain that the demons and the Enlightener would be defeated tonight by the valiant Eredar.

At that moment, he raised his head and looked at the wall of Holy Light above, blocking the demons. The golden streams of light it gave off in the night were mesmerizing.

Kil'jaeden knew that his brother Velen had always favored the Holy Light Doctrine and had been hesitating over whether to embrace the faith.

The commander had a feeling.

Perhaps tonight, his brother Velen would make a fateful choice.

But that was not what he wished to see.

As a leader, Kil'jaeden had no issue with the Holy Light Doctrine itself. A doctrine that urged people toward goodness was a very useful tool for governing, but the blind obedience that came with faith in the Holy Light was a serious problem.

He truly did not wish to see his wise brother bewitched by the Holy Light and walk a path of closing his eyes and ears to all else. Their thousands of years of friendship, mutual support, and cooperation had made his relationship with Velen surpass even that of friends or brothers. He knew that Velen regarded him as family, as close as his own flesh and blood.

And he protected Velen in the same way, viewing him as a gift fate had entrusted to him.

They loved each other deeply.

It was not the vulgar sort of affection and possessiveness, but the kind of cherishing one would feel for another self.

"Fine. If this is your fate, Velen, then embrace that light."

Kil'jaeden narrowed his eyes.

As he looked at the battlefield before him and that shining light, he swore to himself:

"Seek the light in your heart, and lead our people better with it! But my dear brother, if that flickering light intends to possess your pure and noble soul, then I will cast everything aside and fight it with all I have!

If I still cannot save you in the end, I will go with you."

"Pfft!"

Dick and Malderan flew away like two golf balls violently struck into the air, slamming hard into the fel-covered stone walls of the underground ritual chamber.

Malderan was in better shape.

Protected by the Holy Light, he grimaced as he climbed to his feet and gripped his jeweled warhammer once more.

But Dick had no protection from the Holy Light.

Shadow Fury had beaten him so badly that he could not get back up for a long while. Though he had already made up his mind, the gap in strength was simply too despairing.

Even if a Vindicator was a unique Eredar hybrid of paladin and warrior, the strength of a high-ranking warrior alone was clearly no longer enough to handle this thorny situation.

Archimonde's Skull, fastened at his waist, had also fallen to the ground. Then a demonic claw formed from gathered fel energy lifted it into the hands of Sarkir, who stood amid that fel radiance like an "evil god incarnate."

The Enlightener grasped his disciple's unclosed eyes with his claw-like left hand and sneered. As his five fingers clenched, pure fel energy seeped into the flesh.

As Malderan helped Dick up, they watched emerald power flow through the skin and veins of Archimonde's severed head. Then, in an instant, fel fire incinerated all the flesh, leaving only a perfectly formed Eredar skull.

Sarkir blew away the ashes covered in wails.

Shaking his head, he said:

"Your studies were inadequate. Before death came, you did not even have time to preserve your soul in a soulstone. I can still hear my child's cries.

It's all right. I'll help you."

He made Archimonde's Skull float before him, casually reached out, and shaped a green crystal-like soulstone from pure fel energy. Then he used a soul-draining spell to extract Archimonde's weakened soul from the skull and imprison it within the soulstone.

Only after doing all that did Sarkir satisfactorily clasp the skull as a focus. Raising his hand, he swung his fel whip, which lashed toward the two overconfident Vindicators, intending to strangle them here.

Malderan shoved Dick away.

He himself was seized by fel tentacles and lifted into the air, but his Holy Light continued to shine, protecting the high-ranking Vindicator.

"Dick! Quickly, call upon your Holy Light!"

He shouted hoarsely:

"I cannot defeat this fel-forged monster alone, Dick! You must heed the Holy Light's guidance. You must trust it as much as you trust yourself! The Holy Light must have had its purpose in bringing you here!

Quickly!

Cast aside all your doubts.

Call upon the Holy Light within your heart."

Dick knew that the most critical moment had arrived.

He had been prepared, but Malderan's arrival had been an accident. Now, he carried not only his own fate, but also the responsibility for his friend's life.

But this had been his plan all along...

He had intended to rebuild his connection with the Holy Light in such desperate circumstances.

This was not some wild fantasy or a gamble with his life. It was a method Dick had concluded from the experiences of those powerful paladins in the True History of the Dark Portal, as remembered from his past life, when they received the Holy Light's blessing.

The Holy Light, a power of conviction, seemed especially fond of brave souls who fought on in desperate situations. This primal force representing light was exceedingly generous to warriors.

Dick had already come this far.

Pressing a hand against the wound on his chest, he stood up and faced the second chapter of his fate, which had only just begun, in this place covered by fel energy.

He stared at Sarkir. The old wizard watched him with great interest, as if looking forward to Dick performing a miracle for him in this scorched land.

"Then... Holy Light..."

Dick called out.

He extended his hand.

Almost immediately, he felt warm power gathering in his palm. It was the Holy Light's response.

But that was not enough.

He had to make his oath and define his doctrine.

It had to be a cause he could persist in for the rest of his life, one he truly believed in and could devote all his passion to.

What could that be?

Dick saw Malderan fighting beneath the Holy Light's protection. He thought of Malderan's two children, of the girl named Lelan, who would suffer misfortune ten thousand years later on the world called Draenor.

It was a tragedy recorded in history.

It was also one of the countless tragedies the Draenei would suffer ten thousand years later.

He did not want such things to happen, just as he had done everything in his power to force himself into the barrel of a gun to kill Archimonde.

That had not merely been an attempt to defy cold fate. Perhaps it had been more like a silent declaration of what he wanted this life to be.

The doctrine he had been seeking had actually been his from the moment he opened his eyes in this second life.

"I will change those disasters. I will make those tears cease to flow. I will turn every tragedy I witness into an inspiring miracle.

I know where the river of fate will flow. I will wade forward, becoming the stubborn stone that turns its current with my own strength!"

He closed his eyes as he breathed and said in his heart:

"I will forge the Hand of Fate and, in the end, reverse the future...

Bear witness to me!

Bear witness to this doctrine and this oath! Holy Light, if you truly are the Primal Light that flickered through the age of darkness, then help me."

"Ding..."

Amid a soft sound and the warm embrace of light, Dick saw the line of jumping runes:

[External power connected! Power path determined: Holy Light primal force. Connection mode: infused blessing! [Holy Light Doctrine · Hand of Fate] has condensed!

Class power activating!

Class alignment: Retribution/Punishment/Judgment!

Holy power infusion capacity: moderate. Due to your Energy Affinity Tattoo and enhancement through Elemental Grease, holy power energy infusion has been raised to superior!

Veil of the Afterlife in effect. Paladin class sequence combat skill inheritance activated!

Radiant Holy Sigil activated!

Retribution Aura activated!

Holy Crusade activated!

Ashen Judgment activated!

Fiery Dedication activated!

Divine Storm activated!

Art of War activated!

Light Unsheathed activated!

Diakum Zastinus! The oath forged from endless passion and supreme dedication has proven where you belong. You were born to belong to the radiant primal force!

The Holy Light has embraced you and chosen you as tonight's Hand of Fate!

It awaits the miracles you will show it.

The enemy is before you. Wield this radiant blade to your heart's content.]

Boom!

A terrifying eruption of Holy Light instantly shattered the fel scythe Sarkir had hurled at Dick. Amid the sacred echo of a golden storm sweeping through the Fel Territory, the fel restraints binding Malderan were easily "melted" away.

Under the old Vindicator's stunned gaze, as though witnessing Divine Descent, Dick reached down and picked up the fallen warhammer. With a casual swing, he made the jeweled weapon burn like a golden torch.

He raised his head.

Scorching golden radiance left behind one erupting seal of dedication after another as he advanced, dispersing and purifying the surrounding fel corruption.

In that moment, his entire body seemed to have become lightforged.

It was only a temporary enhancement. Such bursts were never absent from tales connected to the Holy Light. The power of the Highlord who had once swept across the stars had returned.

There was not much of it, but it was barely enough.

"Evil..."

He stared at Sarkir, gripping the warhammer in both hands. As radiant wings spread behind him like an eagle taking flight, and golden feathers of light scattered across the sky, he said:

"Begone!"