May the Holy Light Fool You

General Elodus's thunder-elephant heavy cavalry truly deserved their reputation as the elite force guarding the capital.

Facing the Awakeners' Cultists and the demons they had summoned, these heavy cavalrymen shattered the enemy's defenses in a very short time. What followed was the cleanup phase of hunting down and executing the stragglers.

Dick and Malderan's battle against Sarkir had seemed long, but had actually lasted less than ten minutes. Only a few minutes had passed since Velen the "Grand Magus" joined the battlefield. From that perspective, the Awakeners' Cult's coup had been forcefully crushed almost as soon as it began.

This was all thanks to the Assassin Court's excellent intelligence work, and to Commander Kil'jaeden personally holding the line in Oronaar City. No one carrying out the operation had dared to slack off at such a critical moment.

What?

You thought Eredar didn't slack off?

Wrong.

These blue-skinned, hoofed, tailed people had plenty of tricks for slacking off. If you didn't believe it, ask the Draenei traveling merchant Hak'Murd, whose life was quite "legendary." He had no combat ability whatsoever, yet through sheer luck and an unrivaled talent for slacking off, he had somehow survived all the way from Argus to Draenor, then made his way to Azeroth. There, he joined the Argent Crusade, became an outstanding traveling merchant, and even witnessed the Lich King's fall.

Most absurdly, his luck had been good enough for him to follow old Velen back to Argus in the end, becoming one of the first returning wanderers to liberate his homeland.

With that kind of experience, he could practically be called the supreme god of both slacking off and commerce.

In short, during the final moments of this "Xibi Xibi" Night, once Commander Kil'jaeden and his guards entered the battlefield, the suppression of demons and cultists became a one-sided rout, like an autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves.

The enemy's demon army had never fully taken shape. The Fel Well serving as their transport channel had already been purified by old Velen. Not even Fel vanguards or demon lords had appeared. Under such circumstances, the vast numbers of low-ranking demons simply could not contend with the Eredar, who had come prepared to catch them in a trap.

High-ranking Vindicators like Dick were the backbone of the Eredar's military strength, while General Elodus commanded several thousand high-ranking Vindicators just like him. It was said that the old general's garrison legion had extremely stringent recruitment standards: candidates had to stand over two and a half meters tall, participate in three Jed'hin Tournaments without being eliminated in the opening round, and undergo more than twenty years of rigorous training before becoming regular privates.

In an army trained under such a system, even a random private could carve through felhounds like an unstoppable force.

Even rookies like the Five Young Champions could form a battle formation and slaughter their way through demons. Such a thing would have been an unimaginable blessing for other races, and it was enough to prove the Eredar's astonishing physique and talent.

Put it this way.

This race could wrestle Tauren barehanded in strength. Their agility was no worse than trolls', their affinity for energy rivaled elves', their learning ability did not fall behind humans', their grasp of engineering surpassed even gnomes', and their resilience was on par with dwarves'. When driven into a corner, their explosive fury was much like that of blood-crazed orcs.

Most importantly, the Eredar were natural-born "perfect immortals," vastly superior to the Night Elves' bestowed "counterfeit immortality."

Aside from their low population, difficult reproduction, and the common flaw of long-lived races—their individual accumulation of primal power was slower than a turtle's crawl—the Eredar had practically no obvious weaknesses. That was why a man at the pinnacle of the physical universe like Lord Sargeras, the Dark Titan, had come to Argus to "recruit troops" as the first thing he did after forming the Burning Legion in the True History of the Dark Portal. He intended to appoint Eredar as the Burning Legion's command class.

All things considered, it was hardly surprising that, despite their first encounter with demons and their limited understanding of them, the Eredar had achieved such a decisive victory after making thorough preparations to trap their enemy.

Of course, there had also been many unforeseen developments tonight.

The biggest of them was that although the guardian Naaru K'ure had personally descended onto the battlefield to defend against the demons' assault, it was Grand Executor Velen who had ultimately purified the dangerous summoning ritual and ensured the world would not be contaminated.

But that was not a bad thing!

When the dangerous, ominous Fel Beam was transformed into a dazzling golden radiance before everyone's eyes, the soldiers erupted in cheers. Those Vindicators who firmly believed in the Holy Light especially cried out that this was yet another miracle bestowed upon the Eredar by the Holy Light.

Their morale soared even higher, but there was not the slightest trace of joy on Kil'jaeden's face as he led his commander's guard toward the ruins of the lecture hall. There was only deep concern and helplessness.

His brother Velen possessed the gift of a "prophet." Back when he studied the arcane arts in his youth, he would occasionally glimpse fragments of the future. After the Holy Light descended upon Argus, Velen had revealed to Kil'jaeden, his closest ruling brother, that he had repeatedly seen visions of himself leading the people under the Holy Light's protection.

Kil'jaeden had known from that moment that it was only a matter of time before his wise brother became a believer in the Holy Light.

Prophets were all like that...

When they foresaw the same event again and again, it would not be long before they became involved in it themselves.

But the blind obedience brought about by the Holy Light's powerful calling to its believers was an issue that had to be watched. Whether out of concern for his brother's mental well-being or because of the heavy responsibilities the Grand Executor had to bear, Kil'jaeden could not allow the Eredar's leader to become a fanatic who placed faith above reason.

He decided to have a long talk with Velen tonight.

He would not conceal his concerns before Velen. The brothers had to discuss this matter openly and honestly, then find a concrete solution.

But before that, Kil'jaeden, as commander of the Vindicators, still had many matters to handle.

General Elodus, whose battlefield achievements were illustrious, was responsible for the tactical details. The commander only needed to issue broad directives—for example, stripping the captured Awakeners' Cultists of their spellcasting power and imprisoning them, or announcing the prepared statement to calm the frightened citizens.

And, for example, properly rewarding the heroes of this battle.

"You seven did very well."

Mounted atop the saddle of a war thunder-elephant, Kil'jaeden looked down upon the seven young people before him.

The Five Young Champions had not remained in the safe area as Velen had instructed. They had returned to the battlefield and helped the soldiers break through the lecture hall's flank. Now they were covered in injuries and could only lie on stretchers while receiving their leader's inspection.

But Kil'jaeden liked warriors who were brave, simple, and loyal. Even his usually stern face carried a smile of praise as he nodded in satisfaction and said:

"You upheld the ancient tradition of Vindicators protecting the people. Tonight, you are the pride of the Eredar, and my pride as well! Rest now, children. You will receive rewards worthy of your achievements, but this is only the beginning of the bright lives you are destined to lead."

The Five Young Champions were thrilled.

Just as Sarkir held immense status and influence among spellcasters, Commander Kil'jaeden was the absolute idol of the Vindicator class. His compelling, majestic charisma and his reputation for clear rewards and punishments were enough to earn the Vindicators' wholehearted loyalty.

But after praising the Five Young Champions and watching them be carried away by priests for treatment, Kil'jaeden's gaze toward the Twins became stern.

He studied the two young women standing before him with their heads lowered. Their overly frivolous attire displeased the commander somewhat, but he still spoke calmly.

"You also did very well. As atoners, you have perfectly washed away your disgrace and regained a measure of dignity for the filth-ridden Arcane Academy."

"Honored Commander! This is the head of Galasum, the Arcane Academy's traitor!"

With a solemn expression, Saloras raised the Academy Chancellor's head and said to Kil'jaeden:

"My sister and I would not dare request any reward. We only ask that your wrath not burn away the Arcane Academy itself. Under Commander Diakum's leadership, we eliminated the two leaders of the Academy's traitors. Headmaster Archimonde and Grand Chancellor Galasum can no longer corrupt the students' souls.

But the Arcane Academy is innocent..."

"So in your eyes, I am a leader who lashes out blindly?"

Commander Kil'jaeden rebuked them without much force.

"Merit is merit, and fault is fault. There has never been any such thing as merits canceling out faults!

Your achievements will not go unrecorded. As for the Arcane Academy's future, that will be decided through discussions between Grand Executor Velen and myself, as well as the Tribunal's ruling. But I have also heard of your astonishing talent and the courage you displayed at a critical moment. If you have nowhere to go in the future, come work for the Assassin Court.

Your talents should be put to the right use. Vindictor Diakum did very well this time. He discovered two flawed pieces of uncut jade for me.

I also believe you deserve better training.

Go.

Rest and tend to your wounds. Stop overthinking things."

That was how the sisters were dismissed.

Yet as they left hand in hand, they could feel how tightly their fingers were gripping each other's. It was not merely nervousness; they could not conceal their joy.

This time, misfortune had truly turned into a blessing.

There were not many opportunities to be personally praised by Commander Kil'jaeden, and they had even received an early offer from the Assassin Court. The Assassin Court did dirty work, so its reputation was not particularly pleasant on the surface, but it was still a powerful institution directly under the two Grand Executors—a true government post and a position close to the rulers themselves.

For Arcane Academy graduates, considering the ordinary careers they could choose in recent years, this was already a blessing fallen from the heavens.

Just as Kil'jaeden dismounted from his thunder-elephant and entered the ruins of the lecture hall, still thick with Fel energy, under the escort of his imposing guards, he happened to see several Vindicators carrying the severely wounded Vindictor Malderan away on a stretcher.

"That is General Elodus's nephew?"

Kil'jaeden asked softly. Talgas, the head of the Assassin Court beside him, immediately replied:

"Yes. Vindictor Malderan's status is somewhat awkward. He is an illegitimate child, so he cannot receive the Elodus family's support openly. For years, he could only rely on himself to seek a position in the Arcane Academy. But General Elodus values this only nephew of his greatly.

The facts have proven that the old general with his illustrious achievements has excellent judgment.

Vindictor Malderan played a very important role tonight, presenting an image of courage and righteousness. He is undoubtedly a hero, the best possible model for propaganda."

At this point, Talgas glanced at Commander Kil'jaeden's expression and lowered his voice.

"At the very least, he is more suitable than the stained Diakum as an example of an outstanding Vindictor who turned the tide."

"Mm. Go arrange it."

The commander waved his hand and said:

"The general governing the Antoran Wastes was injured and passed away a few months ago. That place is lacking a reliable and reputable person in charge. Let Malderan give it a try. See whether he has the same outstanding command talent as his uncle."

"Yes, Commander."

Talgas noted down the order, then asked:

"And Diakum... Since Grand Executor Velen personally ended this disaster, with his merciful nature, Diakum will certainly escape the fate of death."

"Give him a promotion to the rank of Vindictor Commodore as a reward too."

Kil'jaeden said casually:

"But he is deeply tied to the Arcane Academy faction. He is not suited to continue participating in the coming large-scale investigation of the Arcane Academy. Send him out to gain experience. Once the people have forgotten this incident, let this meritorious man return to Mac'Aree."

"Mm, understood."

Talgas felt relieved as well.

Though he had doubts about some of Dick's overly impulsive decisions, Talgas found the fellow quite to his liking.

Vindicators were all rigid, troublesome people. It was rare to encounter a quick-witted high-ranking Vindictor like Dick. His cooperation with the Assassin Court this time had been nearly perfect. If Dick rose to a high position in the future, the Assassin Court would gain another useful connection.

The group continued onward.

Along the way, they still encountered panicked demons scurrying about in every direction. Kil'jaeden did not have his guards act. Instead, he personally wielded sword and shield to slaughter several demons.

It was not to "farm merits" for himself, but simply out of the rigor expected of a military commander.

He needed to personally assess the threat posed by creatures like demons.

After effortlessly killing demons of several different races with the bearing of a legendary warrior, then spending some time dealing with an Eredun Doomguard, Kil'jaeden finished his "warm-up." He frowned deeply and handed his weapons to his guard.

"They will not be easy to deal with! Especially given their terrifying numbers, brutal nature, and the fact that they cannot be killed in the material world. Once the Burning Legion launches a large-scale landing on Argus, our existing defensive forces will struggle to repel their invasion on every front.

Capture these demons alive and send them to the Technology Court!

Have the Technology Executors thoroughly study their weaknesses and find the proper ways to counter them."

"We can increase our firepower, Commander."

Talgas reminded him:

"Though demons in the material world can cast spells, they can also be banished through physical means. That means shells and energy beams are equally effective against them. But Fel energy truly is an unfamiliar power to us.

Although Diakum has submitted information on the profession of 'warlocks,' that alone is not enough for us to devise a real response to such violent power."

"Then ask! Then learn!

I do not believe that any power lacks a corresponding solution. The answer is there. We need only use our wisdom to find it, and I believe the noble Eredar have never lacked wisdom!"

Kil'jaeden strode toward the center of the shattered lecture hall and descended along the broken pulpit into the ritual chamber.

At once, he saw his brother Velen personally treating the gravely wounded Vindictor Diakum. He also saw Sarkir, bound in place by glittering chains of Holy Light, already utterly despondent.

It was worth mentioning that an axe thrown from somewhere was still embedded in the mentally broken old wizard's head.

It had come within a hair of a headshot.

"Escort Sarkir to the Assassin Court for strict supervision. Talgas, I grant you sufficient authority. No matter what methods you use, pry his mouth open as quickly as possible! I want to learn from Sarkir everything related to Fel energy and demons. Then gather Arcane Mages and shamans from across the nation in Mac'Aree.

They must quickly devise methods to counter Fel corruption.

The demons will not let this go.

The Awakeners' Cult was merely one of their despicable attempts. After their shadowy plot has failed, the demons will most likely use more direct and violent means to invade our world."

Kil'jaeden stroked the gold-ringed tendrils on his chin and told his most trusted adjutant:

"We must prepare for a war that may last a very long time. Of course, if the Holy Light's faction is willing to help, that would be even better."

"Indeed. With the demonic threat before us, this is no longer the time to debate doctrine and disputes over tradition."

Talgas nodded deeply in agreement.

He knew Commander Kil'jaeden was about to have an important discussion with Grand Executor Velen, so he took several steps back and had the other guards stand watch.

Kil'jaeden strode forward.

He looked over the ritual chamber's ground, which had become a complete mess after being repeatedly scorched by Fel energy and Holy Light, as well as the demon remains that had been burned to ash by the Holy Light. He was struck by the destruction that this gentle power could cause when correctly applied to war.

Sure enough, every power had two sides.

"It seems you didn't hold back, my brother."

Kil'jaeden joked gently.

"What? Was the pure Holy Light too scorching, enough to make even a spellcasting master like you lose control?"

Such teasing only happened when he was with Velen. Facing Kil'jaeden's joke, Velen shook his head and said:

"It was not my doing, Kil'jaeden. With the Holy Light's help, I merely purified that already weakened Fel ritual. All the traces of battle you see here were left by Vindictor Diakum.

Though I did not witness his battle, the fact that he forced the Enlightener into such a miserable state proves that the Holy Light's miracles tonight were not limited to guiding me..."

Velen turned around. Still very young at this time, he possessed a face the Eredar considered nearly perfect.

Serious yet gentle, dignified yet humorous.

His black beard was impeccably trimmed, complementing the tendrils on his chin adorned with arcane gold rings. His body, honed through years of training, was strong and powerful, but he was not naturally as imposing as Archimonde. He was a great man who would never make anyone feel offended.

His soul was as perfect as his appearance.

With a weary smile, he maintained a healing spell over Dick's badly wounded body with one hand, beckoned Kil'jaeden over to help with the other, and said:

"Once again, the Holy Light has bestowed enlightenment upon the Eredar. And this time, It has been especially generous, even sending us one of the 'chosen.'"

"Hm?"

Kil'jaeden blinked and said:

"That term cannot be used carelessly in matters of faith, my brother. Do you truly believe Diakum Zastinus is one chosen by the Holy Light? He has committed wrongs! He spent years associating with cultists, willingly serving as the eyes of an Ambitious Person while infiltrating an evil organization that sought to overthrow order.

He himself does not deny having studied that wicked knowledge.

Though he corrected chaos and redeemed himself tonight in a way that even amazed me, wrong is wrong. He is a stained man. Would the Holy Light be so generous as to bless him?"

"That is why I have not fully confirmed Diakum's identity."

Velen nodded, acknowledging Kil'jaeden's caution.

"I only mean that he is highly likely to become one of the 'chosen by the Holy Light' in the future, becoming the seventh Lightforged in the Eredar's thousand-year history. But without question, Diakum's temperament is too extreme.

His hatred of evil is not a bad thing, but compared to our other six chosen, he is far more extreme. I personally saw that even as he was dying, he still used his final strength to attack Sarkir, attempting to kill the culprit behind tonight's events.

He truly is a follower of the Holy Light.

But I believe his style may suit you better, my brother."

"Hm, he threw that axe?"

Only then did Kil'jaeden turn back with interest to look at the axe embedded in Sarkir's head as he was being taken away. He could almost picture Dick, at death's door, refusing to save himself and still trying to kill his enemy. That improved Kil'jaeden's impression of Dick somewhat.

Kil'jaeden himself was a powerful warrior, so he naturally appreciated such courage.

However, that was all it was—interest.

Compared to the matter Kil'jaeden truly worried about, a small figure like Dick was not worth wasting many words on.

He helped Velen finish treating Dick, then instructed the guards to send this Vindictor, who had performed a "heroic deed," to the priests for the best treatment.

Only after he and Velen were the only ones left in the ritual chamber did Kil'jaeden voice his concerns.

Velen, holding a Naaru holy staff and wrapped in Holy Light, with the faint illusion of a triangular Holy Crest appearing behind him, patiently listened to Kil'jaeden's account. He could feel his brother's concern for him in those words, and that undoubtedly brought a warmth to Velen's heart.

He looked at his brother with gentle eyes. Only after Kil'jaeden candidly admitted that he feared the Holy Light might deceive Velen's wisdom did Velen speak.

"I am not worried that I will fall into the predicament of blind obedience."

"You are too confident! It is almost blind arrogance."

Kil'jaeden rebuked him with some severity:

"I had seen many wise spellcasters become priests of the Holy Light, only to grow accustomed, in a very short time, to using the doctrines and precepts of the Holy Light to restrain themselves rather than seeking a way out for their souls through the enlightenment of wisdom.

Their examples were the greatest source of division between the arcane tradition and faith in the Holy Light within Eredar society. Arcane Mages believed that the spread of the Holy Light would make the people ignorant and blindly obedient. I am not saying that faith in the Holy Light makes one stupid.

But the fact was, they truly became less capable of thinking.

Your wisdom is the treasure of the Eredar, my brother!

I cannot allow that to happen, nor can you simply ignore this problem out of confidence... You must come up with a concrete solution."

"I am not worried that I will fall into the predicament of blind obedience..."

Velen repeated what he had said earlier. Only after Kil'jaeden showed a hint of anger did he speak the second half of his sentence.

He placed a hand on Kil'jaeden's shoulder and said in a low voice:

"Because you stand beside me, my brother! I believe that whenever I lose myself because of faith, you will always be the first to reach out and pull me back onto the right path. I trust you far more than I trust myself.

I truly need a way to remain rational, and there is no better way than your supervision."

This sincere and straightforward answer left Kil'jaeden speechless for a moment.

Yet his heart was joyful and content. He felt warmth in his soul as well, like a gentle stream nourishing his spirit, just as they had supported each other throughout the long years of the past.

He shook his head and said teasingly:

"So without me at your side, you always run into one kind of trouble or another, right?"

"Yes, Kil'jaeden. How could I survive without your help? Just like the Broken plague all those years ago, it was only through our joint efforts that we prevented the disaster from spreading so terribly throughout civilization. Your courage and my wisdom—we could always work together to find a way to solve our problems.

It is not just the people who think so. I think so too."

Velen answered with a joke of his own.

The two old friends, whose friendship had lasted five thousand years, laughed heartily.

Kil'jaeden supported the exhausted Velen as they left the ritual hall. He would deal with the trouble here afterward; his brother needed rest now.

"Once these remaining matters are settled, come to my home for dinner."

Velen invited him before leaving.

"My wife and children all hope to see you. You know, they see you as a member of the family too. Do you remember when my son was little? Because I was so busy and you kept him company, there was even a time when he called you Father..."

"All children are like that. Their innocence makes them better at distinguishing goodwill from malice."

Kil'jaeden waved a hand and said:

"But you have a problem now, Velen. You will have to explain to your family why you returned from a trip looking like you are glowing. I am certain that until you learn to control the Holy Light radiating from you, you will frighten the children terribly tonight."

Velen did not deny it. He was a low-key leader, and he too felt that his radiant appearance at the moment was somewhat excessive. After offering a few more reminders, he left under the protection of several Chosen of the Holy Light.

Kil'jaeden remained standing amid the ruined remnants of the ritual hall for a long time.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he looked at the grim wreckage left by the clash between the Holy Light and fel energy. Determination and resolve flashed in his eyes.

Whether it was fel energy or the Holy Light, if you wanted to conquer this world through war and destroy this civilization, then... you would first have to step over the corpse of me, its leader! Even if I died in battle, Velen would continue leading the Eredar in resistance.

Until you failed, or until we perished!