The Longest Day: The Time for Farewell Has Come—Let's Go

The battle for the Antoran Wastes lasted a full two days.

In the end, the Eredar successfully held their defenses. As the last ship of civilians departed, the demons ceased their assault and began to withdraw. Yet, just like the aftermath of the battle for Krokuun, all the demons left behind was a land blanketed in corpses, death, and fel corruption.

The fertile grain-producing region had become history. Fel Lava Pools and shattered earth covered everything, while the sky itself was completely shrouded in thick clouds reeking of sulfur. The Antoran Wastes had been renamed the "Antoran Wasteland."

Standing atop the battered walls of Antorus, whose entire population was being evacuated, the exhausted Dick could see the sinkholes and cracks that now riddled this once-fertile land, the heartland of Eredar civilization.

Polluted magma continually surged from the mantle, replacing sweet rivers and lakes. It had turned the land that once nourished tens of millions into a barren hell, making it exactly as desolate as it had been in his memories.

Only demons could survive here now.

Above the city gate before Dick hung the heads of Burning Legion Greater Demons: Supreme Fel Lord Zakuun, Doom Lord Krosus, the Queen of Hatred Alisabal, and many others. Beyond the gate, demon heads were piled into mountains. All of it testified to the Eredar's tremendous achievements in this war.

Yet not a single surviving Eredar warrior would call this battle a "victory" as they looked upon the land that had utterly lost its last trace of life.

They had defeated the terrifying demons for the second time, but this time, their losses were even more dreadful than at Krokuun.

Grand Executor Kil'jaeden had been severely wounded. General Elodus, commander of the battlefield, had died. The Assassin Court had lost two-thirds of its members, the Teleportation Court had been wiped out, the local garrison of the Antoran Wastes had been annihilated as an organized force, the newly reformed Mac'Aree Garrison Legion had fewer than one survivor in ten, and the Hand of Argus Legion had once again been driven to the brink of total destruction.

Of the 2,500 men replenished under Dick's command, only 307 remained after the battle.

Kil'jaeden no longer needed to worry about a shortage of Argus Hearts. After this battle, without counting recruits, the surviving veteran Eredar were few enough that every one of them could be issued an Argus Heart artifact.

In other words, after losing the Antoran Wastes, the Grand Executor had fewer than 150,000 troops left to defend the capital of Mac'Aree.

It was not that the Eredar had truly been reduced to having no soldiers left to use. The main issue was the Antoran Wastes' crucial location. It was the harbor hub connecting the Eredar governorates on the continent across the Eredath Sea. With demons occupying it, contact and reinforcements between the continents had been completely severed.

The people on the far side of the Eredath Sea, likewise invaded by demons, could only rely on themselves now.

"Dick, it's time to go."

Captain Neri's voice rose behind him, and Dick withdrew his gaze from the scorched earth before him.

He looked at Neri. She had been fortunate. While her superior, Talgas, had lost an arm, Neri had fought through the entire battle for Antoran with only an additional scar across her neck.

One inch closer, and it would have severed her spine.

Dick had treated her himself, spending an entire day repeatedly using Holy Light cauterizing therapy and various healing spells to pull her back from the edge of hell. But the injury had ensured that Neri's voice would never regain its former clarity.

Her hoarse voice seemed filled with a sorrow that could never be wiped away.

"Has Malderan woken up?" he asked.

Neri nodded.

"He just woke up. He's attending his uncle's funeral. The Grand Executor plans to bury General Elodus in Antorus City Hall, along with the remains of those warriors we recovered. The surviving soldiers hope you'll personally preside over the memorial service."

"Me?" Dick shook his head. "I'm only a newly ordained priest. I'm not qualified to conduct a memorial service of this scale, and I have no experience. Aren't the high priests from the Temple of K'ure here?"

"They're gone," Neri said numbly. "They all died. The Holy Light church in Antorus was struck three times within ten minutes yesterday by activated Hellfire, guided by Dreadlords who had infiltrated the city. All the priests and wounded inside perished. Now, you're the highest-ranking ordained priest in the Antoran Wastes."

Dick nodded and picked up Kazzak's Grudge from beside him, preparing to head for Antorus City Hall.

As he walked away, Neri spoke softly.

"Can we... really win?"

"We can." Dick placed a hand on her shoulder and said gently, "The warriors' sacrifices bought us precious time, child. The Naaru ships are closer to our world than ever before."

"But there are only five days left before the thirty-day doomsday declaration." Neri clenched her fists. "If they don't come, if they don't make it in time, if they've deceived us... then we... wouldn't we..."

"Have faith in the Holy Light! They'll come!" Dick cut off Neri's wavering. "Be patient, child. Come on. I need some assistants. Call Imira over. Her leg is only injured; she can still fulfill a priest's duties."

An hour later, in the central square of Antorus, a ruined city that looked like it had been bombed into rubble, Dick, dressed in a bishop's robes, climbed onto the pulpit with the limping Imira under the gaze of the surviving warriors.

His arm was still wrapped in bandages, and he could only turn the pages of the holy scripture with one hand. With every step Imira took, her face turned pale, and she nearly collapsed from being unable to stand.

But no one mocked their bedraggled state. Even Commander Kil'jaeden, seated below, saw nothing wrong with it.

After all, the commander himself was sitting in a wheelchair.

Earlier, empowered by World Power, he had personally slain two demigod demons. Countless demons had died beneath his blade. By the end, even frenzied Fel Lords and Doomguards had retreated in panic before Kil'jaeden's destructive charge. He had indeed fulfilled the duties expected of a Grand Executor on this battlefield.

Dick's dark impression of the "Deceiver" had been replaced by the Grand Executor who had led his people in battle.

Once, Dick had thought the War of the Ancients fought by the Night Elves was the most brutal anti-demon war in the physical universe. But now... the War of the Ancients?

Tch. What a pile of trash!

Over the past twenty-five days on Argus, at least nine demigod demons had been buried here. Countless legendary demons had fallen, and the corpses of lower demons, laid head to toe, could have filled the entire Eredath Sea... twice!

Every demon commander whose name Dick knew, or whose face he recognized, had died once in this world... at the very least.

Even a sly bastard like Tichondrius had been forced to lead troops into battle, only to be personally purified by old Velen during the surprise attack on the Seat of the Triumvirate three days ago.

Although all these glorious victories had been built upon the full support of the Argus Star Soul baby, didn't Azeroth have a Star Soul too?

The Burning Legion of this era was only an early version. It not only lacked high-ranking commanders like the Man'ari as its command core, but had not recruited top-tier enforcers like the Annihilan Pit Lords, developed weapons of war like starships, or received Fel Argus's "blessing of immortality."

Yet even side by side, the brutality of the Argus War, the number of enemies slain, and the sheer value of those kills still utterly surpassed those pointy-eared weaklings who could only beg legendary races and even the Dragon Aspects to help them fight, then barely won after sacrificing their world's continental shelf.

What about the Eredar?

The Eredar had no Dragon Aspects, no Wild Demigods, no servants of Order!

The Eredar had no allies! They could only rely on themselves. They could only exchange their own sacrifices and the corruption of their homeland for one precious day after another.

Most importantly, the Eredar's two leaders had fulfilled their duties, and their commanders had been brave and fearless. None of them had chosen to submit to the Dark Titan like that stupid bitch Queen Azshara and the vermin Highborne beneath her.

That alone was enough to fill Dick with reverence for his new identity and the beginning of his new life.

"Hmm..."

Dick stood upon the pulpit as the warriors below watched him in silence.

Behind him stood City Hall, filled with the remains of the fallen. The recovered "holy remains" had been laid out within in the most solemn manner. Vindicators holding purification torches waited to ignite them, ensuring the fallen would not be desecrated by the demons who would come after.

He gathered himself for a moment, closed the holy scripture, and decided to improvise. He would first borrow some material from a sermon old Velen would give ten thousand years in the future, then open in the priests' distinctive chanting cadence.

"Blessed are the holy.

For all filth spread by wicked things shall be consumed by fire, leaving no shame behind;

Blessed are the humble.

The tongues with which arrogant demonspawn sought to spread darkness have been torn out. They can take nothing from us but the answer of our blades.

Blessed are the brave.

Cowardly servants curse in secret for you and me to fall to the hands of evil, yet the towering walls built by the fallen have become the spine of this world time and again, upholding our unyielding faith.

Blessed are the righteous.

Arrogant world-destroyers have Set Foot On our blessed land with the intent to destroy. They brought demonfire to burn our souls, washed our minds in curses, and tortured our bodies with blades. But the Eredar answered them with equal fury in defense.

They wished for us to howl, and so they howl.

They cursed us to suffer, and so they suffer.

They expected us to despair, and so they despair.

In their weak desire to see us kneel before their evil master, they have done exactly that!

The shameless fear violence, so they draw their blades against the weak. And thus, to their satisfaction, they have witnessed those guided by goodness and faith raise holy blades without fear and challenge the powerful who bear ill intent.

We have not fallen!

We still march onward!

We have trampled fel flames, dispersed the black haze of shadow, cast down cowardly monsters, and slaughtered the evils of hell!

Soldiers! Commanders! People! We may proudly straighten our backs amid this war-torn wasteland, raise our heads, and answer the question of destruction posed by the world that watches us.

Eredar still stands! Argus shall not fall!"

Dick raised his lone arm. With none of a priest's gentle refinement and all the ferocity expected of a warrior, he clenched his fist and roared:

"Let the Dark Titan come! Let the destroyers of the starry sea come! We will answer Its question, and we will answer the doomsday declaration!

It may destroy us, but it cannot frighten us!

It may kill us, but it will never conquer us!

In the name of this world, we will continue to fight! We will fight until the final moment arrives, until the day we become torches! Now it is the demons' turn to answer! Now they must answer the question we have put before them!

At this very moment, are there still frenzied demons who dare to arrogantly Set Foot On the Eredar world in the name of their dark master?

Cheer, everyone.

Eredar shall endure forever! Long live the Argus Star Soul!"

The soldiers were stunned.

Even Kil'jaeden looked astonished.

They had expected to hear the priests' soothing words here. They had expected to enjoy a moment of spiritual peace after crawling back from the hell of desperate battle. Yet this Commodore Diakum before them had replaced a memorial prayer with a declaration of war.

Before the watching souls of the dead, this iron-blooded "Light Butcher" promised them that none of their sacrifices would be wasted.

Not a single word of Holy Light Doctrine appeared in that damned priest's entire speech. Were you really a priest certified by the Naaru? Where were your mercy, kindness, holiness, and tenderness? Had you used them as bait while slaughtering demons in a frenzy?

Get the hell back and reread the scriptures!

But...

That was damn thrilling!

That was how it should be!

Warriors should replace weak prayers with boiling blood. Guardians should answer the enemy's roars with an unbreakable will.

Memorials?

No!

It was not time yet!

The last demon to enter Argus had not yet been cut down. Their evil master was still advancing among the stars. This war had not yet reached the time to console the dead.

"Long live Argus!"

In the deathly silence, Commander Kil'jaeden, seated in his wheelchair, was the first to roar. Then impassioned battle cries, like a storm, echoed through the ruined city.

Krokuun was lost, and they continued fighting in Antoran.

Antoran was lost, and they would continue fighting in Mac'Aree.

If Mac'Aree fell, they would enter the towering mountains where their ancestors had once lived. If even those mountains fell, they would not hesitate to sail battered warships across the Eredath Sea and continue resisting! Until the last inch of this world fell into fel hands, that would be the moment their souls returned to the embrace of the World Soul.

Surrender?

Sorry, that did not exist!

It had never been an option from the very beginning.

"We will keep fighting, Uncle. Go in peace."

Vindicator Malderan dragged his broken body forward and personally lit the radiant torch beneath General Elodus's remains.

Behind him, the Five Little Powerhouses and the Vindicators, tears glistening in their eyes, each held a torch. Even the ever-arrogant Twins were here. They gently placed the flames in their hands beside the dead.

Golden fire quickly ignited and spread into a blaze. At Dick's call, that golden Holy Light transformed into brilliant feathers of light that drifted downward, sending the spirits of the fallen home.

In the end, Dick still fulfilled his professional duty as a priest.

He stood before City Hall, praying for and absolving the dead. Golden flames danced as gentle ashes scattered on the blazing wind, like the fallen bidding their final farewell to their comrades.

The ashes mischievously kissed the cheeks of the warriors still roaring battle cries, then rode the wind beyond the city toward the Antoran Wastes, now reduced to wasteland.

They had gone home.

"My lord, behind you..." Imira suddenly whispered.

Dick opened his eyes in surprise and turned toward his side.

Clusters of golden motes were gathering. Before long, amid the astonished cries of the Vindicators and priests, they formed the image of an Eredar Vindicator entirely composed of Holy Light.

Its gender and identity were unknown.

Clad in complete gem-studded armor and holding a radiant warhammer, it stood beside Dick like a shadow. It seemed to be thanking the priest for that magnificent memorial sermon, allowing the fallen to cast aside their last attachments and return to the Holy Light.

They could not let His Reverence the priest make the trip for nothing. This was the fallen's reward.

[External power connected! Power path determined: Holy Light primal force. Power form: high-purity Radiant Energy aggregation. Power connection method: Radiant Contract.

High-level Paladin skill [Guardians of Kings] learned.

High-level Paladin skill [Fiery Guardian] learned.

High-level Priest skill [Soul of Redemption] learned.

Notice!

This Radiant Energy entity is an aggregation of Holy Light Doctrine spirits unwilling to depart. When summoned, it will appear in the material world in different forms.

When summoned as [Guardians of Kings], the radiant spirit will duplicate all your attacks and fight alongside you.

When summoned as [Soul of Redemption], the radiant spirit will duplicate all your healing actions and fight alongside you.

Notice!

This spirit shares your stamina value. When your health reaches zero, the radiant spirit will sacrifice itself as a [Fiery Guardian], restoring 35% of your health, applying [Divine Shield] to you, and unleashing [Holy Shock] upon surrounding enemies.

Notice!

After the radiant spirit sacrifices itself, it must consume your Radiant Energy Pool to reconstruct itself. Reconstruction time varies according to your life rank and affinity with Holy Light primal force.

At your current rank, radiant spirit reconstruction requires: fifteen days.
]

"The Holy Light has manifested..."

The devout Vindicators and priests had witnessed this "miracle" with their own eyes. Moved to tears, they prepared to kneel in prayer, but Dick grabbed them one by one and pulled them back up.

The Commodore shouted:

"The sacrificed spirits refuse to leave! They wish to continue fighting beside their fellow people as radiant spirits! Quickly! Recite your doctrine, warriors! Let the undying spirits form contracts of protection with you...

Praise the Holy Light!

It has sent us exactly what we need most at this moment!"

Still dazed, Imira began calling out under Dick's guidance. The other young powerhouses began to pray as well. One radiant spirit after another stepped out from the flames of Holy Light and chose their companions.

But Malderan did not answer the call for a long time.

"Don't you... want to disturb your uncle's rest?"

Dick asked softly.

Malderan shook his head. He touched his chest and said:

"I'm too badly wounded, Dick. After killing that Greater Demon Zakuun with your help, I already... Ah, such a heroic spirit should be left to younger people with more promise."

"Don't talk nonsense."

Dick supported his old companion and said:

"You're built like a thunder elephant. You can fight for another thousand years! Ten thousand years!"

"No."

Malderan smiled and said:

"I learned from my wife's letter that, under the pressure of war, the Arcane Mages of the Arcane Academy developed a new kind of magic. They can place the souls of those slain in battle into powerful arcane guardian constructs and let them continue fighting. They call them 'Immortals.'

I know my own condition.

You don't need to comfort me.

After I die, I'll continue protecting you all in another form."

"I won't allow that to happen. Stop planting fucking death flags for yourself! Your children are still waiting for you to come home."

"Did you... did you just swear? Does the Holy Light permit that?"

"The Holy Light can't interfere with my private life. What I mean is... hmm?"

Before Dick could finish, he raised his head at some unseen summons. Then he saw the first brilliant beam streak across the distant horizon, coming from the direction of Mac'Aree. Then came a second, a third... In mere seconds, those beams joined into a dazzling rain of light, completely illuminating the gloomy sky darkened by fel corruption.

As though the heavy clouds had been torn apart, allowing brilliant sunlight to shine upon the land of Argus once more.

"They're here!"

Commodore Malderan beside Dick murmured:

"The Naaru are here! The messengers of the Holy Light are here! Hope... Hope has arrived. Our children and families are saved... Hahaha, our sacrifices were not in vain.

Do you see it, Uncle?

Your sacrifice, and the sacrifices of all the other heroes, were not in vain..."

"The first batch of Naaru and their ships came rushing from the star region closest to us. Forty-seven small jewel starships have already begun taking aboard civilians."

When Kil'jaeden, Dick, and the other commanders returned to the Seat of the Triumvirate through Teleportation Spells, Velen personally received them.

The weary old prophet was beaming at that moment. The gloom that had hung over him for days seemed to have lifted somewhat. Standing atop the tallest tower of the Seat of the Triumvirate, he pointed toward the jewel ships suspended above Mac'Aree's towering mountains, scattered across the sky like a fleet awaiting inspection.

He said to Kil'jaeden:

"The Naaru starships can teleport civilians directly aboard. I previously ordered the Administrative Court to organize Mac'Aree's civilians according to their places of origin, and Governor Hutton helped me complete the evacuation roster. The civilians of Oronaar City will all be transported away within three days, which will coincide perfectly with the arrival of the second batch of Naaru starships at Argus.

That will be the true main force. The remaining hundred starships will be enough to take everyone away."

"What about the civilians on the continent across the Eredath Sea?"

Kil'jaeden said:

"The Naaru are all at Mac'Aree. What will happen over there?"

"The great fleet personally dispatched by Mother of Light Xe'ra will handle that side. Its five ships, one large and four small, will be enough to carry off the civilians there."

Velen traced a Holy Crest over his chest and sighed repeatedly:

"The Holy Light has truly blessed us! The Naaru have promised to transport our people to different safe worlds and ensure that they help our people through the hardest days of pioneering. I've broken up the organizational structures of the Administrative Court and Security Court, making sure every ship has personnel from both administrative systems who can serve as civil governors and military commanders."

The Grand Executor said:

"K'ure and Lady Lura sent me word that the Genedar they are aboard will remain at Mac'Aree to receive the last batch of warriors."

"No need!"

Kil'jaeden closed his eyes and waved his hand.

"You go with them! Velen, the people need you. I will remain at Mac'Aree with the warriors and buy you the final hours needed for the evacuation. The demons will not simply let us send the civilians away. They will soon launch an attack on Mac'Aree..."

"Sargeras's Greater Demons are all dead, Commander. Their resurrection in the Twisting Nether takes longer than that of ordinary demons."

Dick said softly at that moment:

"Even frenzied demons will become a disorganized rabble without powerful leaders commanding them. Mac'Aree will face far less defensive pressure than the Antoran Wastes.

We don't need to leave all the warriors here. The people need not only leaders, but guards as well. I suggest splitting up the veterans carrying the Argus Heart and ensuring that every immigrant ship has at least one squad."

At that, Dick gritted his teeth and glanced at Velen.

He said:

"I request that you board the Naaru's ship immediately! I will take over command of Mac'Aree's defensive battle."

"What? Now? Are you joking?"

Kil'jaeden laughed in anger.

He glared at Dick and rebuked him:

"You mean you want to seize my command at a time like this? Are you planning to rebel, Commodore Diakum? I order you to stand down!"

"No, my brother."

Velen reached out and placed a hand on Kil'jaeden's shoulder. Gentle Holy Light seeped into his body, healing him and sealing away his power.

The prophet said softly:

"This is my wish as well. Compared to me, perhaps the people need you more—to lead and protect them with your burning resolve. The Holy Light foretold our tragic fate, but I will... defy it! Where are the Chosen of the Holy Light?"

Clack

Six broad-shouldered Chosen of the Holy Light stepped forward with radiant war spears in hand. Then Velen struck the ground with his holy staff and shouted:

"Escort Commander Kil'jaeden aboard! He will lead the first group of people away from Argus! Command of the war to follow will be taken over by General Diakum and me."

"No! Velen, you can't do this! You can't strip me of my honor! Damn it! I order you, let go of me!

Velen!

Don't do this!

Without me to protect you, you'll die on the battlefield!"

Once he realized Velen was not joking, Kil'jaeden, being "escorted" out of the ruler's hall by the six Chosen of the Holy Light, immediately began to struggle.

The terror he felt at that instant even surpassed his rage.

But that terror did not stem from having his authority stripped away. He saw a certain resolve on Velen's face, and it seemed to make him realize that something worse than death might be about to unfold.

He would lose him!

He would lose his brother, and that place of certain death had originally been meant for himself...

"We said we would face the end together. You promised me, Velen! Stop! Don't leave me behind..."

PS:

Thanks to brother Huo Zhengtinghao for the two Silver Alliance Leader donations... I truly appreciate the encouragement and support during the Lantern Festival. This weak author was already drained dry in advance and has no way to repay you yet. I'll save it up for now, and once the premium release begins and I have some breathing room, I'll definitely make up the bonus chapters.