Doomsday Prophecy of the Great Enlightener

Demons ran rampant across Mac'Aree. While they besieged the Seat of the Triumvirate under the Dark Titan's orders, a furtive group, protected by demons, broke into the abandoned Temple of Lura.

They wore Arcane Mage robes covered in blasphemous words. Beneath their concealing adornments, red skin and Fel-mutated claws were exposed.

As fugitives of the Awakeners' Cult, the great purge of the past months had made them suffer terribly. Like rats whose nest had been destroyed, they could only cling to life in the darkness of the sewers.

But those dark days were over!

With the demon army having landed on Argus and victory already assured, these "guides" could finally move freely and openly through this demonic realm.

Those Man'ari brazenly led their demon lackeys in the hunt for the Grand Executor, but the Awakeners' Cult's absolute loyalists still kept a low profile. For example, while the war was raging at its fiercest, they had come to this godforsaken place far from the heart of the battlefield.

They had something important to do here.

Several Man'ari warlocks led demons into the detention area beneath the Naaru Temple. They corroded the lock with warlock magic and entered the cage where the Enlightener Sarkir had been held for the past month. As expected, they found Sarkir's beheaded body tossed there in a miserable state.

The poor old man's head had vanished, and the blood from his broken, hunched body had nearly drained away. This was not a recent execution; he had been dead for at least a week. Velen would never have done such a thing, so the order for the secret execution must have come from the cold-blooded Kil'jaeden.

"Truly miserable..."

A Man'ari warlock sighed.

She waved her hand, and the others immediately sprang into action. With the assistance of demon servants, they quickly completed the ritual layout. Then, through the corrupt art of invoking fel energy, they shaped a pure yet grand Fel Well here.

The Man'ari holding a chest stepped forward reverently and opened it.

The female warlock presiding over the ritual took an irregular green soulstone from within. Holding it aloft with both hands, she tossed it into the Fel Well.

Amid the churning dark-green liquid fel energy, they heard the crackling sound of the soulstone breaking apart.

Sarkir's pained groans could be heard amid the disturbance. Invisible hands controlled the fel energy of the ritual, pouring it into the headless, shriveled corpse. Under the inscription and expansion of fel patterns, the remains that had become Broken regained the robust form proper to an Eredar.

"Children..."

Sarkir's low, muddled voice echoed through the secret chamber filled with burning heat and shadows. He said:

"Where is my perfect head?"

"Here, great Enlightener."

The female warlock presiding over the ritual opened another chest and removed a half-finished skull artifact. She spoke to Sarkir, who was returning to his body:

"Kil'jaeden bestowed your head upon one of his servants. We found it after breaking into the Relic Hall. Regrettably, your flesh has already been..."

"It does not matter. We are warlocks, tailors and craftsmen of souls. It is merely a shell, something of no value."

Sarkir's voice turned satisfied and pleased. The headless corpse rose to its feet, stretched out both hands in a horrifying posture, and grasped its skull, stripped of all flesh. With a solemn and formal air, it set the skull upon its spine.

As fel energy flowed into it, dark-green flames flickered around the skull's face.

It was as though flesh had filled out again, and Sarkir's features reappeared, woven from blazing fire.

It moved its neck, then reached up to adjust its spine slightly. Finally, with some regret, it touched the wound on its skull's forehead. Its most prized skull was no longer perfect, like a shameful scar. Even though Demon Ascension could reshape its body and erase that physical scar, the scar left upon its soul still represented a regrettable defeat.

But that did not matter either...

It still had a chance to wash away that humiliation.

Yes!

At least, it still had a chance today.

It spread its arms in satisfaction, allowing its apprentices to drape black-green warlock robes over it.

An artifact made from an Eredar wizard's skull and a staff made from a fel hound's spine were delivered into Sarkir's hands. These pieces of junk made the flames on Sarkir's skull form a "pouting" expression.

Clearly, it looked down on these pieces of junk.

But considering that its apprentices had been busy preparing its resurrection ritual while hiding from pursuit, and had also needed to conceal its soulstone, it could not be too harsh on their loyalty. This was not the time to be particular.

Sarkir was actually a very easygoing leader. He was wise, generous, and deeply charismatic, which was why so many absolute loyalists still served him even in such desperate circumstances.

"Have Velen and Kil'jaeden left?"

It asked.

"The battle at the Seat of the Triumvirate is not over yet, Enlightener."

The female warlock answered respectfully:

"Though they have sent away most of the civilians, the Legion's warriors are sufficiently brave. They have been trapped in the Seat of the Triumvirate, with only the ship called the Genedar there to receive them. We have just received word that Naaru ships are also rescuing civilians from the continent across the Eredath Sea, but the demons got there first and captured several cities.

"Following your orders, our brothers and sisters are guarding the refugee camps and strictly forbidding those savage creatures from harming our people.

"This is the promise we made. We are absolutely not shameless servants of the Destroyer.

"Oh, right!

"There is news that will surely interest you.

"Diakum Zastinus! That bastard who betrayed us twice is also on the battlefield at the Seat of the Triumvirate."

"Oh? That is truly wonderful."

A savage smile appeared upon Sarkir's fiery face. It said:

"Then let us go see him. I am also curious how miraculous Dick will answer the question I once asked him..."

"You are going just like this?"

The female warlock said in surprise:

"Your achievements fully deserve the reward of Demon Ascension. Lord Sargeras is approaching Argus. Perhaps you should deal with that insect after you have completed your audience, ah, forgive my bluntness, my lord.

"Though Diakum is a traitor, he has been fortunate lately. Even the demons fear his Holy Light; they reverently call him the Light Butcher.

"That is a title bestowed by the most savage of demons. You should understand its weight.

"Therefore, if you do not undergo demon-forging, I fear..."

"Ah, you mean I will suffer defeat once again, yes?"

Sarkir gave a low laugh.

Though it had only just been resurrected, the long-standing authority of the Enlightener and the complete reshaping of fel energy gave Sarkir a strange and terrifying presence. The surrounding Man'ari felt fear rise from the depths of their hearts. It seemed that after experiencing death once, this Enlightener had truly been transformed.

It ignored its apprentices' concerns and carried its weapons out of the cage.

The demons summoned and controlled by the other warlocks obediently made way for this "progenitor of warlocks" as Sarkir advanced.

Its shadow stretched longer beneath the dancing fel flames and grew ever darker, as though it would connect all the shadows in the underground prison.

It said:

"The Dark Titan has granted supreme glory. Once the Argus Heart falls into Lord Sargeras's hands, I will gain a brand-new body from the fel power surging forth from the World Heart. It will be a holy body forged from fel energy! A more perfect vessel for carrying my soul.

"My current bedraggled state is merely another opportunity granted to me at a turning point of fate, allowing me to bid this world and those friends farewell one last time in a form I still somewhat recognize.

"Victory or defeat?

"Heh, meaningless concepts.

"The moment they chose to flee Argus beneath the protection of the Holy Light, we had already won. And if everyone's goal is to protect the people and preserve civilization, then there will never be a loser in such a struggle.

"Do not be afraid, children.

"I merely wish to speak with Diakum.

"I will personally send him on that journey through the stars, or keep him here to share the gifts of darkness with us.

"That is all."

Sarkir explained its intentions. Then, amid the bowed following of the other Man'ari, it waved its hand and said:

"Tell me, during the time I was imprisoned, what great deeds has our brother Diakum accomplished in the name of 'Argus' and the Holy Light?

"Forgive my nosiness, children.

"But I am about to bid farewell to a peculiar soul. I cannot possibly go to meet him knowing nothing, can I?

"So, speak.

"I am listening."

"Mm, bad news. We may be left behind, children."

Beneath a shattered tower at the Seat of the Triumvirate, Dick, in his Person in the Light form, held the Naaru beacon staff in one hand and the Ata'mal Crystal in the other.

He even had the leisure to crack a joke with the vindicators sheltered around him.

But no one responded to his humor.

Everyone was exhausted...

Especially with the enormous corpse of the Scorching Hound behind them.

It was not just Malderan and the five young champions who had fought their way here; even the Twins, who had arrived at some point, were covered in wounds. Even Lura, the Naaru floating overhead, had had nearly half its crystal body bitten away by that damned monster.

In the end, Dick had transformed the Ata'mal Crystal's protective power into offensive beams. With the Naaru restraining it, he had blasted through Red Maw's heart with a searing Holy Light cannon.

In his memories, this vicious demigod monster should not have died on Argus.

Thousands of years later, it would fall at the hands of mortals in another unknown world. As the Dark Titan's favorite hound lord, its death would be rather humiliating. A demigod-level fel beast would be assassinated by a mortal wielding a weapon forged with the power of an entire world.

Compared to such a regretful ending, dying on a battlefield destined to be remembered for ten thousand years might not be a bad outcome for Red Maw.

"I do not understand why you insisted that I cut off its teeth..."

Captain Neri, carrying a large backpack, glanced at the several dog fangs inside that gave off a disgusting stench. She grumbled viciously:

"But I think these things are revolting."

"Think of them as Spoils of War. Trust me, you will find it difficult to find forging materials of this quality elsewhere in the universe. They can be made into two daggers or a war spear for you, though that is for later.

"Now, stay close to me!"

Dick rolled his shoulders and said:

"My Holy Light burn can only last a few more minutes. Lord Lura and I will do everything we can to escort you to the Genedar. That means crossing nearly half the battlefield, and every demon among them has enough reason to leap at us and take a bite in the name of their evil master.

"So...

"If anyone falls behind, there will truly be no saving them."

"Let us go."

Malderan, clutching his chest and coughing continuously, leaned on his warhammer and glanced at the hundreds of warriors behind him. He touched the Argus Heart hanging from his chest and said to Dick:

"The Dark Titan has completely severed the World Soul's connection to us. Those mighty powers have left us. You must now become the torch in the darkness, Dick."

"Do not be so despairing. Besides World Power, we still have the Holy Light!"

Without hesitation, Dick gripped the relic in both hands and planted the Naaru beacon into the ground. He scattered the artifact's energy outward and infused it into the nearby warriors, arming them for this final flight toward the end.

"It is like an oversized demon-slaying training exercise..."

Marksman Barat sighed, slid his last quiver into his jeweled crossbow, and said to Tramon beside him:

"Cover me later."

"Just run forward! Do not worry about either side, and do not worry about behind you."

Tramon had lost his battle helmet.

He had pulled up a face covering over his mouth and nostrils. Several more scars marked his face, but he remained as calm as ever as he said:

"I will cover your retreat."

"So, can't you two geniuses use a Teleportation Spell to send us to the teleportation area beneath the Genedar?"

Equally exhausted, Imira complained to her two junior schoolmates:

"Aren't you usually so capable? Why are you sputtering out now?"

"Ugh, there is no talking to a priest like you whose brain is stuffed full of Holy Light."

The Twins no longer had the strength to quarrel with Imira, the deadweight. Each held a skull artifact and drew pure arcane energy from it to replenish their depleted strength.

Teleport, my ass.

Did she not see how terrifyingly concentrated the fel energy across this battlefield had become?

Under such conditions, Fel Force had nearly driven away every other kind of power. Not only could spellcasters like them barely function, even shaman cavalrymen like Jaide could no longer sense the existence of the elements at all.

He could only hear the world's wail.

Was it the Argus Star Soul lamenting its approaching fate, or blessing the Eredar embarking on their long journey?

"Protect Lord Lura."

Dick reminded the others:

"It was badly injured in its battle with Red Maw just now and cannot endure any further blows. Otherwise, it will shatter. If it shatters here, I doubt even the Holy Light itself could put it back together.

"Are you ready?

"Go!"

As the order was given, the instant Malderan led the five young champions charging out, Dick in his enhanced state erupted with Holy Light in a cascading torrent.

The liquid-like Holy Light became a flood bursting through a broken dam and surged forward. The moment they rushed out of the shattered tower, the demons swarming toward them were incinerated and blown apart.

The Genedar was ready for takeoff, and they had little time left. Naturally, they could not take a detour; they could only charge straight across the battlefield.

Dick released his burning Holy Power almost by counting down the seconds. This enhanced state was maintained by burning the Radiant Energy Pool, and his Radiant Energy, expanded to 999%, was nearly exhausted. It was now even beginning to burn his own Holy Light.

Even though Dick possessed more Holy Power than other vindicators, he could not sustain that burn for long.

They had to race against time.

From high above, they looked like a group of Eredar "bulldozers" wrapped in light, constantly pushing through a sea of demons. Yet their speed was visibly slowing.

Dick felt his weakness.

The Hand of Fate state would not last much longer, but they had not even crossed half the battlefield. They absolutely could not stop here, so Dick chose a more dangerous method.

He stopped where he was and gathered his final Holy Power. Using the Naaru beacon as a medium and the priests' technique for manipulating sacred fire, he unleashed it all forward in one burst.

It was like a Holy Light cannon firing in that instant, like an arc of light shot from a waving finger, like a holy blade descending to sweep every obstacle before them away.

"Quick! Charge!"

The moment Dick fired the light cannon, he collapsed. Malderan grabbed him and slung him onto his back.

The Naaru beacon was tossed to Imira to continue controlling. Relying on the residual searing Holy Power within it, she could still continuously blast light cannons to clear their path forward.

The Genedar seemed to have noticed this band of warriors breaking toward the teleportation area. The ship, which had already begun rising, endured the assault of enormous numbers of fel bats and stopped in midair, leaving them a sliver of hope.

"Hold on, Dick."

Malderan ran forward with him on his back. Amid the ethereal sounds constantly emitted by the Naaru overhead, the old vindicator said:

"We will escape! Listen, Lord Lura is encouraging us too..."

"It is warning us! You illiterate idiot who cannot understand Naaru Language, dodge!"

Weak as he was, Dick was probably the only Eredar among them who could understand Naaru Language. At his shout, the charging crowd only had time to roll aside.

The next second, a barrage of "liquid Hellfire" fell from the sky, striking like concentrated blows from giant fiery fists that severed all hope. It should have engulfed them all, but the weakened Naaru Lura rose to shield them and took the entire destructive barrage alone.

The repeated strikes drew a final sorrowful cry from the holy Naaru. With a sound like shattering glass, it broke apart before the eyes of the entire battlefield, sacrificing itself to leave everyone else unharmed.

Its radiant crystal body scattered around Dick and the others like a meteor shower that had not had time to say goodbye.

Yet even at the moment of its destruction, Lura, the dutiful guardian Naaru, still struggled to cast a large-scale restorative spell, bestowing its final strength upon these brave Eredar.

[High Priest skills [Desperate Prayer]/[Pain Suppression] learned!]

A line of runes flashed before Dick's eyes. With Lura's final aid, his weakness was swiftly dispelled, and all pain was temporarily stripped away at that moment.

He rose to his feet, snatched the jeweled heavy shield from Malderan's hand, shoved Neri aside, and raised the shield in a standard defensive stance, taking the Soul Fire and Chaos Bolt hurtling toward them head-on.

The first Soul Fire shattered the heavy shield.

The second Chaos Bolt struck Dick directly, but the Atama Crystal in his arms bore the blow that would have obliterated his soul.

Under Sarkir's regretful gaze, as he stood surrounded by demons and dealt the killing blow, the Eredar relic in Dick's arms burst apart beneath the Chaos Bolt filled with pure fel energy, like a slain Naaru.

The seven-colored crystals flew from Dick's hand, clattering onto the ground around them, already set ablaze by fel fire.

"What a pity. It was so close."

Sarkir shook his head.

With a burning skull floating above it, it stood between Dick's group and the Genedar, like a wall of despair that had suddenly descended and cut off all hope.

"Dick, Diakum! My apprentice, my most beloved traitor! I have come to reclaim your answer."

The Enlightener shouted:

"You and I faced the same question. You and I fell into the same desperate situation. Yet you gave an answer utterly different from mine. I admire every effort you made. I even hate that fate did not bring you to our side sooner, so you could have become the Eredar's true savior!

But there is still a chance. It is not too late.

Stay, Diakum.

You have the talent to become a Fel Lord. Cast aside that feeble Holy Light. You should wield greater power! So many Eredar in this world have fallen into desperate circumstances. Like those fugitives, they need your protection.

Stop struggling.

Stay."

"What you want is only me, Sarkir."

Dick coughed as he got to his feet.

He had no weapon, so he could only pick up the crystal shards Lura had scattered when she shattered and grip them like a battle blade. In his other hand, he held a golden fragment of the shattered Atama Crystal. He called out:

"Let the others go! I'll stay here and finish this damned question-and-answer session with you.

Let them go. If there is even a trace of Sarkir's soul left in you, monster, then I know why you made that choice... So please, leave your last kindness and mercy to these children."

"You actually believe someone like me still has mercy in his heart? Hahaha, you truly understand me. Why not?"

Sarkir laughed and raised a hand.

The Man'ari warlocks around them were displeased, and the demons hungry to devour flesh and slaughter living beings were even more unwilling.

But under the command of the Enlightener, who had gained Lord Sargeras's favor and been granted the authority of a Greater Demon Lord, they could only obediently clear a path leading to the Genedar.

"Go on, go on, children."

Dick remained where he was.

He knew this road toward the future no longer belonged to him. He said to the others:

"Take the fragments of the Atama Crystal and give them to Velen. Continue protecting our people as we protected our world. Every Eredar is your kin. Do not abandon them, and do not abandon the Holy Light!"

"Go. Listen to him, children."

Sarkir spoke at that moment as well:

"This is my last mercy, the foundations of the Eredar... no, the Draenei!

Go!

Carry your mourning for the elders and warriors, carefully hide the despair in your hearts, and embark upon your road of exile. Pray to your faint light every night, and do not let me find you again. Next time, there will be no dazzling soul like Diakum's to plead for a way of survival for you.

Lord Sargeras will gain an uncut gem, and for that, He is willing to abandon inferior stones like you."

"We're not leaving!"

Fareeya clenched her teeth so hard they nearly shattered.

Her sense of justice, convictions, and ideals would never allow her to leave Commodore Dick behind alone. But in the next instant, the hand she raised with her weapon was pressed down by Neri.

Neri turned back to look at Dick.

Surrounded by demons, Dick nodded to her, signaling for her to take the children and leave.

This was the only way.

"Move!"

Neri turned around.

Her eyes bloodshot, she bent down and picked up a green crystal shard, forcing out the words through clenched teeth:

"Obey Commodore Diakum's orders! Warriors, leave with me."

"We can't do this..."

This time, it was not the blunt-spoken Imira who objected, but the Twins, who usually preferred clever tricks. They each held an activated skull artifact, clearly prepared to fight to the death.

Neri silently stepped forward, seized their wrists, and dragged them away.

Under the demons' watchful eyes and amid the Man'ari's mocking laughter, they supported the wounded, carried the relic fragments, and staggered toward the Genedar beneath Dick's gaze.

Dick watched them leave.

His view was eventually obscured by the Fel Rift Sarkir tore open with a wave of his hand. Beyond its scorching, sulfur-scented air, amid the roar of countless demons, a grand burning figure had appeared at the end of the sky.

The Enlightener spread his arms, looked at him, and said:

"I have granted your final plea, Diakum. Now it is your turn. Speak. When faced with the Dark Titan's question, what answer did you reach?"

P.S.:

With everyone's help, I finally beat the other contestants from the same period and successfully secured a Sanjiang recommendation, so the premium release begins next Tuesday at noon! A guaranteed fifty chapters! More than a month of persistence and patience was all for this moment blooming like fireworks...

Me!

I, Old Lu, have always kept my word!