Despair Before One's Eyes · Time! Fool, the Problem Is Time!

On the scale of the physical universe, World Souls were an absolute rarity.

A life nurtured within a celestial body as its swaddling clothes could not be taken lightly from any perspective, and communicating with such an existence naturally required special methods.

In the True History of the Dark Portal, Azeroth served as the setting and central stage for a series of magnificent legendary tales. The heroes of Azeroth had repeatedly communicated with their Star Soul through the order technology left behind by the Pantheon Titans, dealing with one great crisis after another under the World Soul's guidance and aid.

But they could use Titan Technology because the Pantheon had noticed Azeroth long ago and subjected that world to almost comprehensive remodeling. Those Titans had used nearly their highest technology on Azeroth.

Argus, on the other hand, had not enjoyed such an "honor."

None of the ancient legends about Argus that Dick had gathered so far contained any information related to Titans or the Pantheon.

The gods who walked the sea of stars on two feet had never noticed this planet.

That was both good and bad.

Argus had not suffered the "poisoning" of the primal power of order, but that also meant it had become far more difficult for the Eredar, Argus's native race, to communicate with their own Star Soul.

Without Titan Technology to assist them, the Eredar could only sense their Star Soul through the most primitive methods.

That placed exceedingly harsh demands on individual talent. According to Sarkir, as well as the shamanic legends described by Governor Hutton, since the birth of Eredar civilization, the only person capable of communicating with the World Soul had likely been the legendary "Primordial Sorcerer."

This "Holy Stone," which clearly seemed connected to the elemental powers from the earliest days of the world's formation, was probably the tool the Primordial Sorcerer had used to sense changes in the World Soul.

That made sense.

According to the laws of the physical universe, every planetary body was born from the primordial agitation of ancient elemental powers throughout the cosmos.

Only through the conflict and fusion of wind, fire, water, and earth could celestial bodies take shape in the sea of stars. It was also the collision of elemental powers that gave planets their first "polishing," providing the initial impetus for life to emerge later.

Starting from that theory, the conclusion was not hard to reach: the elemental powers existing on every planet were precisely the most primitive forces a Star Soul could command before choosing its own path and before awakening!

That was also the origin of the Holy Stone before them.

At the old shaman's request, the members of the Star Soul Exploration Team had already withdrawn to a safe position. Before their eyes, Diakum, protected by the Holy Light, seemed Lightforged at that instant. Those ancient elements could no longer invade or interfere with his conversation with the World Soul.

Dick remained silent, but everyone believed that he had already established contact with the World Soul.

Yet there was almost nothing they could do now except wait.

The old shaman muttered incomprehensible phrases such as "the chosen one" and "the World Will shall reveal itself," while Jaide worried greatly about his father's mental health and his brother's physical health.

The Five Young Elites made no unusual moves.

They were fine warriors and knew that the more dangerous things became, the more strictly they had to obey orders. Thus, following the demands of Commodore Diakum and Chief Hutton, they kept a safe distance from the Holy Stone, lest the surging Holy Light within them provoke an absurdly powerful elemental backlash in this cave.

Just how outrageous were the elemental powers here?

The normally gentle Holy Light inside the Five Young Elites had automatically shifted into an aggressively defensive state. It was not that the Holy Light had any grudge against the elements; it was simply because the elements here held an overwhelmingly crushing advantage. The Holy Light had to protect its followers too!

The bold and ambitious Twins had recovered from their shock. They were cautiously using arcane runestones to carefully record every piece of information around the Holy Stone.

This was the most crucial part of their first mission as "newcomers" to the Assassin Court. They had to document this "audience" from beginning to end and even produce a sufficiently detailed mission report after the assignment was complete.

However, the focus of their commander, Captain Neri, the Assassin Court's senior ranger, was rather strange at the moment.

She seemed utterly confident in Diakum and did not appear worried that the commodore's "audience" would fail. While everyone else was watching the Holy Stone and Diakum, she casually wandered alone to the stone throne nearby. After circling the ancient skeleton several times, she returned to the Twins and whispered, "Are you sure that's Primordial Sorcerer Augure?"

"Just measure the circumference of the skull."

Oreses, who was diligently recording the operation, said quietly, "Ever since the obscure and incomprehensible discipline of phrenology emerged, all Eredar Arcane Mages have used this absurd standard to determine the limits of their Casting Talent. My sister and I were no exception. We underwent no fewer than twenty skull-circumference measurements from childhood to adulthood, and the unified reference standard we used came from the skull measurements left behind by Primordial Sorcerer Augure.

"That's right.

"Primordial Sorcerer Augure was the inventor of 'phrenology'!

"From that perspective, the ancestor of our Eredar civilization was quite a complicated person."

"But Augure lived at the dawn of civilization! Wasn't sacrificing a few living people perfectly normal in a barbaric age?"

Neri sighed as she grumbled, "They say the Primordial Sorcerer was not only the founder of the Arcane Path, but also the pioneer of shamanism. Maybe Augure personally sacrificed plenty of living people, so perhaps he invented phrenology simply to make it easier to officiate Horde sacrifices?

"But no matter how you put it, you Arcane Mages really are a bunch of vermin!

"It's been tens of thousands of years, and you still deliberately maintain such a barbaric custom. That's truly absurd. You two! Once you're done here, go measure that skeleton's skull circumference."

The ranger captain glanced at Diakum, who was enveloped in dazzling light. She flicked her little tail uneasily and instructed the Twins, who seemed somewhat clumsy from their youth, "Remember to be gentle and show the necessary respect. That's your ancestor."

"Isn't he also the ancestor of you and every other Eredar? He's a great figure from myth!"

Saloras grumbled, but she still took out the "special tools" with her sister and ran off to measure the Primordial Sorcerer's skull circumference.

Sarkir, the leading figure among Arcane Mages in this era, was a "devout supporter" of phrenology. As a result, every Arcane Mage nowadays knew this terrible "basic skill."

Second by second, time passed. The elemental power was receding, but the Holy Light around Diakum grew brighter and brighter. That seemed to signify that his "communication" with the World Soul had entered a crucial stage. To prevent unforeseen accidents, old Hutton decided after some thought to take precautions. At his command, the shamans planted more totems at a safe distance, while the Arcane Mages raised shields.

Just as everyone held their breath and watched the Holy Light around Dick reflect brilliantly against the Holy Stone, Imira, clutching her healing holy staff tightly, suddenly spotted what the sneaking Twins were holding in their hands with her sharp eyes.

Her eyes widened at once, and she cried out, "Why did you take your ancestor's head off? Put it back! That's far too blasphemous!"

"Stay out of Arcane Mage business, priest!"

Saloras snapped viciously under her breath, but their exchange had already drawn everyone's attention.

Under the strange gazes of everyone present, Jaide, a traditional plainsman who deeply respected custom, had already drawn his waist knife halfway. Clearly, this act of "desecrating the dead" had crossed the simple bottom line of Jaide and the Krokuun people.

Seeing things about to go wrong, the steadier Oreses hurriedly waved her hand. Stroking the Skull of Augure in her hands, she explained solemnly, "Have you forgotten, senior sister and everyone else? Arcane Mages have always had a tradition of removing the perfect skulls of outstanding predecessors and refining them into spellcasting mediums. This is absolutely not blasphemy! In fact, according to the most basic interpretation of phrenology, after a spellcaster dies, their talent and brilliance remain within their skull.

"As long as it is properly used, later generations can also behold the glory of their predecessors.

"Since Augure was the founder of phrenology, he naturally would not object to his perfect skull being made into a powerful artifact by worthy descendants.

"Of course, an extraordinary object of this level is not something my sister and I could covet.

"Please rest assured. This skull will be delivered to the two Archons, and the master artisans of the Relic Court will personally complete the creation of this powerful artifact before presenting it to the esteemed Lord Velen for use! My sister and I are only responsible for the first step of gathering the 'raw material'!

"I guarantee it."

"You'd better keep your word. I'll be watching you."

Although Imira had once been an Arcane Mage herself, after converting to the Holy Light, she still found this tradition far too outrageous. She threw out that threat in a huff, then turned back to look toward Lord Dick.

"Light! Look at the light! Light is coming out!"

A few seconds later, Jaide's shout rose from the crowd.

Under the crushing pressure and shoving force of the elemental storm, everyone struggled to open their eyes wide. Just as sharp-eyed Jaide had said, a special light was erupting from the Holy Stone.

It was not a light that could be clearly described with words. It formed a stark contrast with the Holy Light surrounding Diakum. It was not a single color, but continuously changed its spectrum and shape. Like silk floating underwater, it possessed a soft, tangible quality, yet amid the gorgeous multicolored rays was mixed a trace of dreamy, intoxicating deep blue.

It looked exactly like crystal constantly shifting between solid and liquid.

The beam of light spilled from the Holy Stone and filled the entire cave in the blink of an eye.

Under the stunned gaze of the crowd, rocks turned into trees, windblown sand became flowing water, and substances that should have been solid were continuously transformed at random into other forms. It was as though the rules of the material world had failed within that light.

But that was only natural!

Everything on Argus had been shaped by the World Soul's great power, just as the owner of a room had every right to decide the placement and form of all its furniture.

As long as the World Soul wished it, it could raise a storm of creation in a single thought and turn all of present-day Argus into another form. The flourishing Eredar civilization could be flattened like a sand sculpture in a single thought, then become a past unearthed from historical ruins by the next civilization after the passage of ages.

Before such world-creating power, everything the Eredar—no, every mortal civilization—took pride in, every skill and inheritance, seemed so insignificant.

"It is through Its generosity that we are permitted to exist; we did not shape It, O Supreme Lord!"

Governor Hutton, as a shamanic priest, could sense the majestic essence emanating from the World Soul more clearly than the others.

He let out a breath, knowing that his child Diakum had truly gained the World Soul's recognition at that moment. Amid the now-gentler elemental storm, he devoutly prostrated himself upon the ground once more and loudly called out the name "Argus."

That was the name the Eredar used for their planet. It had been decided by Primordial Sorcerer Augure and was the honorific that Augure and his descendants had humbly offered to the World Soul.

Seeing the governor's actions, the others followed suit. Even the arrogant Twins had no choice but to display their utmost devotion at this moment.

Thus, the only person still standing in the cave was Dick, who was engaged in his "talk."

It was not that his bones were too stubborn to kneel. His spirit had already left his body and was continuously delving deeper into the Holy Stone under the careful protection of the Holy Light's primal power during this moment of "choice of fate," as though guided by the power of origin into another "world."

Within that dazzling power of the World Soul, it was as though he had been thrown into a tunnel of time. Amid constant spinning and falling, he vaguely saw every trace of what had happened in the world of Argus.

He saw how the earliest Eredar had been born within that rich great forest, how they had gradually shed their horned beast forms and taken on humanoid shapes, and how they had finally grown from the hunched, primitive, humble forms of the Broken into the strong and vigorous bodies they possessed today.

He saw the young shaman Augure of the earliest Eredar Horde fall into this cave during an accidental expedition. Augure discovered the Holy Stone and humbly prayed and knelt before it for seven full days and nights. Finally, when he gathered the courage to touch it, he too fell, just like Dick, into this dazzling "memory of the world."

He saw Augure go from panic and confusion to curious observation, then to willing and wholehearted submission.

He saw the Primordial Sorcerer begin studying the precious knowledge bestowed upon him by the World Soul, then invoke the great power of the ancient elements as Its "spokesperson."

He saw the Primordial Sorcerer bravely lead his Clan members out of the great forest where they had lived for generations and enter the outside world for the first time. In that savage and dangerous world, Augure, blessed by the Star Soul, wielded elemental power to reshape heaven and earth.

He shaped the first Krokuun Great Plains, then raised towering waves to batter the shores of other continents. Finally, he built stone bridges connecting the straits and led the first people into the mountains of Mac'Aree.

He also saw Augure follow the World Soul's guidance to find the Ata'mal Crystal relics that had fallen into the world from an even more ancient age amid Mac'Aree's towering mountains, where he established the Eredar's first city.

Those were ancient memories. They were the memories of the world.

The Eredar's Eternal Life trait allowed Augure to hold this authority throughout the long years that followed, until he sensed the end of his life approaching.

Perhaps he had lived long enough. Or perhaps it was the World Soul's summons and enlightenment.

In any case, the Primordial Sorcerer who had first "forged a pact" with the world returned to the site of his first blessing and, one final time, wielded his power to protect this place.

He walked his final path here in solitude, returning the great power granted to him by the World Soul to the true master of this world.

The history that followed passed in an instant like the transformation of seas into mulberry fields. The Eredar went from unity to division to war, before finally uniting once more and pushing their civilization to its peak. Then, in the scenes that followed, Dick saw another familiar figure come here following the legends of the ancestors.

Sarkir!

The Enlightener wore magnificent robes and carried himself like a great figure, but in this "memory of the world," his expression was gloomy and worried. He was clearly caught in terrible Mental Attrition.

He came before Augure's remains and respectfully paid humble tribute to his ancestor as a disciple. Then, like Dick, he tried to touch the Holy Stone and communicate with the World Soul.

He completed the ritual, proving that he too was "chosen."

In Dick's words, he had inherited Augure's duty and become the second "World Guardian" born in Argus's history after the Primordial Sorcerer.

Yet Sarkir did not accept that blessing.

Instead, after completing his contact with the World Soul, Sarkir seemed to lose every shred of courage and hope. Enveloped by despair, he fell to his knees beneath the Holy Stone and burst into tears.

The helplessness and despair displayed by that powerful Arcane Mage at that instant made him seem like a child whose lollipop had been snatched away.

At that moment, Dick had completely confirmed why Sarkir had still been so desperate after facing the World Soul that he bent the knee to the Burning Legion.

He shifted his attention away from the memories of the world and walked forward through that realm of light. In one explosion of radiance, even his spirit fell into confusion and helplessness, as though a tremendous blast had stunned him senseless.

When Dick came back to himself, he finally beheld the true form of the "World Soul."

Just as when he had witnessed Azeroth's World Star Soul in his memories, within a "swaddling cloth" woven from radiance too brilliant to describe, beneath a curtain before which even fate lowered its head and held its breath for fear of disturbing it, the noble and majestic World Soul remained asleep.

It slept, and it slumbered.

Yet merely the idle stirrings of Its dream had caused Its vast power to spill forth and shape the magnificent Argus of today.

For an existence such as It, the planet itself was merely a cradle for rest, while the Eredar living upon Argus's surface were just a group of "little ants" crawling across Its majestic divine body, unworthy of attention and even unworthy of destruction.

It possessed power beyond the need for description. Merely looking directly at It gave Dick the urge to bow his head and worship.

That impulse was difficult even to resist through willpower, just as mortals found it hard to resolve themselves to defy their creator—especially when that creator was neither tyrannical nor evil, but exceptionally generous and gentle.

Its power had shaped the Eredar and granted them Eternal Life. That alone was enough for the Eredar to be deeply grateful to this god.

Unfortunately, beneath that beautiful mythical veneer, the World Soul in Dick's eyes was still unformed and nowhere near as mighty and invincible as the Pantheon Titans.

That was enough to show that "Argus" had not yet reached the stage where It could nurture a clear sense of self, much less use the planet to shape Its own supreme divine body. At Its current stage of growth, It might even be younger than Azeroth, that Supreme Star Soul which had actively sought out "spokespeople" and guided Its children to eliminate dangers for It.

Star Souls were born majestic, but their growth also required an immense span of time.

That was a scale of time that even immortals like the Eredar found difficult to measure. Tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of years were no more than a fleeting dream during a Star Soul's sleep.

In the most extreme scenario, even if the Eredar had never suffered demonic invasion and continued developing smoothly, by the time this civilization naturally developed and naturally perished, the last Eredar would most likely still be unable to witness the magnificent sight of "Argus" naturally being born among the stars before dying.

Perhaps only millions of years later, or even longer, would the Star Soul Argus be able to open Its eyes from Its swaddling clothes in an overwhelmingly powerful form, then walk among the stars as a god of the starry sea and spread Its blessing upon the physical universe.

But would the Burning Legion's demonic hordes, already so close at hand, and their Dark Titan give the Star Soul Argus and the Eredar millions of years to grow in peace?

Obviously not!

That was Sarkir's despair, and it was also the final blow that broke the Enlightener's spine!

It was likewise why Sarkir had refused to accept the power and glory of being a "World Guardian," instead bowing and scraping before the demons and willingly offering Argus to the Dark Titan, all so Eredar civilization might survive through the dark age.

Dick let out a long sigh at that moment.

This infantile Star Soul Argus, no matter what, could not stand against Sargeras, the most powerful Dark Titan in the physical universe. Its capture, the infusion of fel energy to "force Its growth," and Its eventual appearance as the Fel Titan Extinguisher were already a predetermined outcome.

At that moment, Dick seemed to hear fate's cold mockery.

As the Hand of Fate who had shaped Argus's destiny, at the moment of fate's choice, the blazing might of the primal power around him had reached the loftiest height a mortal could attain. Yet here, there was no "hope" he had exhausted every effort to seek.

Time—the most generous thing in the world, and the cruelest thing in the world.

The Eredar had received the most precious key bestowed by fate.

But regrettably, they had arrived too early...

Far too early.

Before even the beginning of the beginning, they were already forced to face the end of the end.

Yet fate could not see the slightest discouragement or despair on the face of Diakum, the Hand of Fate. The Holy Gun vindicator's expression was calm, as though he had long known all this. At least in the field of "observing the future," fate was not worthy of being Dick's opponent.

He was a transmigrator.

From the moment he awoke, he had known of fate's malicious and cruel arrangement for Argus. But even without those memories, he could have glimpsed a trace of the truth from Sarkir's abnormal reaction.

In the True History of the Dark Portal, the Enlightener Sarkir's rebellion was merely a footnote used to tell the story of Archimonde's rise. It never clearly explained why an Arcane Mage leader like the Enlightener had suddenly thrown himself into fel energy's embrace overnight.

But it was not quite appropriate to attribute it entirely to fel corruption and the Dark Titan's temptation.

Sarkir had lived for thousands of years and was an outstanding spellcaster comparable to old Velen. Though he was utterly inferior to the famed "astral mage" Medivh in both talent and ability, Medivh, ten thousand years later, had still managed to resist Sargeras throughout his short life even while directly "possessed" by the Dark Titan. Thus, there was no reason for a spellcaster standing at the summit of civilization like Sarkir to have his mind broken and fall overnight.

His transformation had been so abnormal as to verge on absurdity.

But now, after personally witnessing the state of the World Soul Argus, Dick could no longer blame Sarkir for lacking resolve.

It was not that the Enlightener was inherently spineless or unwilling to resist the Dark Titan and its world-destroying demon army.

The fact that he had followed in Primordial Sorcerer Augure's footsteps to find the Holy Stone showed that Sarkir had considered resistance after recognizing the demons' threat, and had found the strongest aid available to him. But cruel reality had ultimately shattered all his confidence.

As one of the first Eredar spellcaster leaders tempted by the Dark Titan, Sarkir had the deepest understanding of The Benefactor's power. Knowing exactly how enormous the gap in strength was between the two sides, he could only allow himself to fall into the "promise" given by the Dark Titan in his helpless despair.

However, Dick had thwarted the Awakeners' Cult's dark coup and slain Archimonde, leaving not even his bones behind. That had broken the "cycle" of the true history.

The two Eredar spellcaster leaders most likely to be recruited by the Dark Titan had both failed. The seeds of fel corruption had been completely uprooted, and every method Sargeras had used to corrupt and interfere with the Eredar had become ineffective.

If the Dark Titan did not intend to abandon the plan to capture the Star Soul Argus, then the situation this world would face next was already clear.

The Burning Legion would arrive in this world bearing the Dark Titan's wrath, sweep away all obstacles with force, and seize what Sargeras desired. In that process, the only fate awaiting the Eredar would be destruction.

It seemed that only surrendering in advance and allowing themselves to be infused into fel monsters could spare them the fate of civilizational extinction. No wonder Sarkir had angrily accused Dick of "ruining everything" from within his prison, and no wonder Sarkir had cast himself as a "martyr" preserving civilization.

This was the only solution that old sorcerer could devise in the face of utter hopelessness.

But at this moment, the commodore felt no regret at all.

The light shining in his eyes showed that everything was unfolding exactly as he had expected, while the way he looked at the baby World Soul declared that this, too, was part of the plan.

Precisely because he knew how history would unfold, he would not stand by and watch everything proceed as before.

Since he was already here, he could not make the trip for nothing. Besides, he had killed Archimonde—this life had been worth it! All that remained was to give it everything he had. No matter how much things changed, they could not possibly turn out worse than the fate of Eredar civilization in the True History of the Dark Portal.

As Commodore truly beheld the World Soul's true form and reaffirmed his resolve, a vision surfaced in his mind.

Within the chaotic, blurry images, like a rapidly cut montage, Dick saw a burning giant walking through the sea of stars. He also saw endless demons gathering upon a fel-corrupted planet.

He even saw the majestic figure of the Dark Titan, vast enough to crush galaxies, appearing in the skies above Argus. There was no doubt about it—this was some kind of prophecy.

This was what the World Soul wanted him to see.

Though it was still asleep and far from truly "hatching," the World Soul possessed its own wondrous power. It sensed that a great calamity was approaching.

It vaguely sensed the kind of despairing future it would face.

Everything was just as Dick had expected. So long as he reached the Holy Stone, so long as he appeared here, he would surely be able to establish contact with the World Soul, because it was calling for help as well!

The World Soul, too, yearned to strike back from the brink of despair.

Good!

As long as it did not choose to lie down and give up when faced with hopelessness, Dick had not come here for nothing.

"You must be terrified."

After the prophecy, with its atrocious camerawork, came to an end, Dick let out a long breath. The Holy Gun guardian said in a low voice:

"Just the thought of your most powerful 'elder brother,' who has already fallen into darkness, coming to 'have a heart-to-heart' with you while carrying a burning sword of darkness is terrifying enough. I do not even need to embellish that fear...

That is exactly why I came here, Lord Argus.

I know that before making a decision, those of us who waver must cast aside our hesitation. I also know that after taking action, those of us who cannot turn back must wage a long battle against regret.

But now, please skip the part where you tremble in fear because of the enemy's strength!

Before coming here, I had already strangled the hesitation in my heart. When I stood before you, I had already regarded the regrets of the future as my lifelong nemesis.

We must resist the Burning Legion and fight the Dark Titan!

This is not a matter of whether we can win. We must hold on until that moment. Only by choosing to fight can we possibly pass true hope on through this sea of stars.

What I have brought is not merely the burning resolve to survive from certain death. If you, like me, are unwilling to give up, then listen as I declare my plan. I have spent a great deal of time perfecting it. It may still have flaws, but we have no other choice.

Your body is destined to be defiled, but your spirit may yet be saved...

So let us prepare and put on the most spectacular 'cicada shedding its shell' for the Dark Titan who is about to arrive."