4. Even the Vigilant Saint Has a Day When He Gets "Village Good Sword" [Launch Bonus Update 750]

4. Even the Vigilant Saint Has a Day When He Gets "Village Good Sword" [Launch Bonus Update 7/50]

(Bonus chapter for brother "Frostfang's Claw" [7/10])

Under Dick's guidance, Yrel completed the condensation of the Holy Light Doctrine. The entire process was witnessed by the other vindicators.

Naturally, they considered this a sacred matter!

After all, the first thing their ancient saint had done upon awakening was protect his Clan members and slaughter outsiders. He had even taken the time to teach young warriors the truths of their race and warn them of the threat posed by the chaotic things in this world.

Hiss, why did that sound a little strange?

But on second thought, there did not seem to be anything wrong with it.

Forget it, no more thinking. The saint had awakened, and good days lay ahead for the Draenei! The saint had returned, and the demons' doomsday was at hand!

"May the Holy Light watch over you, child."

Dick concluded with a classic priestly chant.

When he removed his finger from Yrel's forehead, warm golden Holy Light manifested around her body, surging and gathering before finally condensing into a small, exquisite Mark of the Light Walker upon her brow, signifying the Holy Light's favor.

Dick was not surprised in the slightest.

The boisterous girl before him had quite the pedigree.

In another timeline of the True History of the Dark Portal, she had replaced Velen as the Draenei's spiritual leader. Though she had later gone astray due to excessive fanaticism, leading the Draenei headlong toward becoming Holy Light zealots, shouting, "The Holy Light purifies all!" as she rounded up the other races of Draenor and forcibly Lightforged them.

But those were hardly major problems!

From a mortal perspective, Yrel's affinity for the Holy Light was absolutely perfect. Whether in her command of the Holy Light or her talent for combat, this child surpassed Diakum from twenty thousand years ago by far. So long as she survived the Fallen Arena Calamity, she would surely accomplish great things.

Of course, when it came to affinity for the Holy Light, 99.9% of Draenei could not compare to Dick, who was gradually becoming a child of the Holy Light.

Part of his body was now composed of the remains of a Naaru. Those were pure beings born from the Holy Light itself. Without being overly concerned about technical accuracy, Dick could even call himself "the Holy Light's representative in the mortal world."

That was not an exaggeration at all.

"The Holy Light has embraced me."

Kneeling on one knee, Yrel opened her eyes and felt the radiant energy filling her body.

The sensation of being embraced and blessed by warm hands made the young woman feel as if she were dreaming, but she was already brimming with confidence. Perhaps encouraged by the Holy Light, she rose to her feet and seized the heavy gem-studded warblade, planting it before herself.

With some urgency, she said to Dick, "Great Vigilant Saint! Can we depart to rescue Ambori Village now?"

"Of course. That is precisely what we are about to do: fulfill our doctrine through this act of protection."

Dick swept out a hand. The prepared vindicators immediately mounted their combat Talbuks, while the elite ranger retrieved the Talbuk of her fallen comrade and gave it to the recruit, Yrel.

The captain of the vindicators helplessly tugged on her reins and said to Dick, "My lord, your holy body is too large. Ordinary Talbuks can no longer carry you. Shall we find those thunder elephants that escaped?"

"No, there is no need, warriors! The Holy Light grants Its faithful warriors the freedom to gallop across the earth, the skies, and the seas!"

Dick smiled and reached out to stroke the forehead of the gem-armored combat Talbuk. Soon, a prompt flashed before his eyes: "Holy Warsteed: Majestic Combat Talbuk Form recorded!"

Before the astonished eyes of the vindicators, their saint called upon the Holy Light.

As light gathered, an even larger and sturdier combat Talbuk made entirely of golden Holy Light strode toward the saint. That magnificent holy spirit wore Lightforged armor. Beneath its heavy plating, its eyes burned with milky-white flames, while its curled horns resembled warhammers shaped by the Holy Light. It was both majestic and awe-inspiring.

The Talbuks beneath the warriors grew restless, seemingly fearful of this holy spirit within the light.

Dick paid them no mind. He swung himself into the saddle, grasped the reins formed of light, and held the broken battle staff in his hand as a javelin. Then he made the commanding gesture of the Hand of Argus and charged out at the head of the group.

Yrel followed closely behind, with the vindicators and ranger after her.

"Ah! We made a mistake!"

As they rushed out of the woods, the captain of the Holy Casket Guard slapped her forehead hard and said, "We did not prepare a suit of armor for the saint! He is still wearing the tattered armor he had on when he fell unconscious over twenty thousand years ago. He even has to use his 'shroud' as a battle tabard.

"That is far too undignified!

"The saint should not appear before the people in such a state."

"Don't be so doctrinaire," the elite ranger said with a shake of her head. "The saint is not someone bound by appearances. He is a warrior! Besides, damaged armor cannot conceal the majesty of an ancient saint. He saved us the moment he awakened, and he would not care about his appearance.

"Do not judge the saint's thoughts by our own. Perhaps all he feels now is a powerful desire to protect the people under threat. That noble urge to protect the people is his most sacred garment."

The other vindicators all nodded in agreement. They found this explanation deeply convincing and believed it was precisely the mindset a saint ought to possess.

So what was their selfless saint thinking at that moment?

These children from twenty thousand years in the future do not seem very bright, Dick grumbled inwardly as he rode the Holy Warsteed toward Ambori Village. *Sure, your armor would not fit my size, but you could at least have brought me a cloak to cover myself. What do I look like dressed in these rags? This is completely improper!

*If Malderan saw me like this, he would definitely scold me again for "ruining military discipline."

Ah, Malderan, my brother.

Dick sighed.

Upon the galloping warsteed, he raised his left hand and glanced at the ring on his little finger.

The Argus Heart had remained on his finger for the past twenty thousand years. It was as heavy and restrained as it had been the day he left Argus, like a tangible pact binding him.

Yet after leaving his homeland, the artifact had lost all its wonders.

It was now no more than a rather plain ornament. Though the Ancient Elemental Blessing upon it was still active, Dick was not a shaman and had no use for that enhancement.

For him and the Draenei who had worn the Argus Heart across the sea of stars, this artifact might truly have only commemorative value left in this era.

As he had said long ago, whenever the Draenei became lost, an Argus Heart could always guide them back onto the right path in life. So long as the grand ambition of purifying their homeland remained remembered, this civilization would never lose its way.

Yet his Holy Casket had actually been defiled through collusion between the Shadow Council and traitors within the Draenei.

Dick narrowed his eyes.

He knew that what he feared most might already have quietly happened. The Draenei Clan as a whole might be far stronger than the true exiles who had fallen upon Draenor in the official history, but radicals—or perhaps liberals—who ran contrary to mainstream traditions had clearly emerged within Draenei society.

Excellent!

Having just awakened to face the sweeping changes of more than twenty thousand years, he had been worrying about finding someone suitable to make an example of.

And now, weren't some blind fools delivering themselves right to his door?

Once he contacted little Neri, he would drag out every one of those hidden schemers, strangle and burn them before everyone, and let the Clan members see what happened to traitors who forgot the past—

"No!"

Dick suddenly shuddered.

He realized that his thoughts just now had been far too extreme.

Such cruel thinking was not befitting of a Light Walker, nor was it his usual way of thinking! In fact, his actions and thoughts during the brief minutes since his awakening had seemed somewhat extreme.

He was being influenced by some kind of power.

Could it be the Holy Light's blind obedience and religious fanaticism affecting him?

"Saint! Look ahead! Ambori Village is on fire! But why are the flames that color?"

Yrel's panicked cry made Dick raise his head.

Beyond the nearby hills, he saw the Draenei settlement built near a crossroads on the plains.

Gem-studded domes were the race's most distinctive architectural feature, but chaos was plainly visible there. And Yrel was right: atop the village's tallest building burned a strange cluster of dark purple flames.

It was difficult to even call it fire. It resembled more some corrosive, seductive energy flickering in the form of flame.

It was definitely not the demons' green fel energy.

"It is the Void."

Dick narrowed his eyes and said gravely, "The orcs used the power of the Void to break through our village. It must have been the Shadowmoon Clan's warlocks.

"Do not panic, children!

"Steady your hearts. Call upon the Holy Light to protect your minds. Void power of this level is not enough to tempt the minds of primal walkers! But you must never lower your guard. When your resolve wavers, the Void will exploit the opening and plant seeds of doubt within you.

"Gather around!

"I'll give you a few buffs."

He slowed the Holy Warsteed, allowing the vindicators to gather around him.

Then, consuming more holy power, he cast mass divine magic. With a sweep of his hand, he bestowed Mass Inner Fire upon them all. This priestly defensive spell could not only turn magic into invisible shields that reinforced the recipients' armor, but could also protect their minds to some extent. It was the best method for dealing with mental curses.

With the elegant yet solemn hand seals and chanting cadence he had inherited from the high priests of the Temple of Lura, the Holy Light that had yet to fade erupted once more. He bestowed Mass Psychic Prayer and Mass Power Word: Fortitude upon the warriors, making their spirits burn bright in an instant and strengthening their bodies until they were as strong as oxen.

But since he was already buffing them, Dick, as a high priest, did not hold back. His mana pool was enormous, after all. Along with the priestly skills' dazzling display came the various blessings of the paladin sequence.

Blessing of Wisdom to increase intelligence, Blessing of Strength to increase strength, Blessing of Protection to turn the Holy Light into a protective counterattack ward, and Blessing of Kings to raise all attributes.

Ordinary paladins could only place one blessing at a time upon themselves and their companions, since such blessings required alignment between them and their own Holy Light. But how should one put it?

Saints had privileges of their own!

With a grand wave of his hand, he bestowed every group blessing upon his children, allowing them to fight more fiercely and powerfully in the coming battle.

In just a few seconds, every warrior received at least nine enhancements.

Most outrageous of all, even their combat Talbuks enjoyed the saint's enhancements. Since he was already at it, he might as well cast them with a flick of his wrist and raise his skill proficiency a little. Even If all these abilities had already been raised beyond the "Supreme" level through Diakum's twenty thousand years of grueling practice, were it not for the limits of life rank, Diakum the grinder would surely have leveled those combat skills to "Perfect."

After receiving all these powerful effects personally cast by the saint—enhanced stamina, spirit, mental protection, and armor—even recruit Yrel could truly feel the improvement, let alone the elite vindicators.

Bolstered by such a pile of high-level blessing skills, Yrel felt strength coursing through every inch of her body. She even felt capable of challenging an enraged thunder elephant by herself.

Well, that was not an illusion!

One of the priest class's greatest features was its ability to temporarily strengthen allies through magic. Healing was only one of their duties, far from all priests were capable of.

"Help! The orcs have gone mad!"

As the group approached the entrance of Ambori Village, several Draenei herders clutched pitchforks and hid behind fodder near the burning thunder elephant pens. They screamed in terror but did not dare enter the chaotic village to help their fellow villagers.

The herders could not be blamed for being timid. The main issue was that there were rather a lot of orcs storming the village.

Those chaotic, brutal creatures roared and howled as they set fires everywhere. Grim warlocks summoned Shadow Walkers and hurled Void flames at innocent people and buildings. Amid the chaos, many Draenei were knocked down, bound with slave ropes, and dragged away.

Others who resisted were mercilessly slain, their corpses becoming miserable adornments in the shadows cast by the burning buildings.

The sight made Yrel grit her teeth so hard they nearly shattered. She wanted nothing more than to rush in and kill every last orc. At that moment, every favorable impression she had once held of the orcs' simple, honest nature transformed into hatred, and the Holy Light did not condemn her thoughts.

"Forward with me! Eradicate evil completely—leave none alive!"

Dick roared his command and charged into the settlement at the front. With one hand, he swung his warhammer in a full arc, using the Holy Warsteed's momentum to send a vile orc thug chasing a crying Draenei girl flying into the air.

But there was no need to mourn for him. He did not suffer at all.

The red-eyed thug had died the instant he took off, then landed peacefully in four separate places.

The Holy Warsteed's distinctive display of light quickly caught the attention of the orc thugs in the village. At first, they were not afraid. The frenzied brutes howled as they grabbed their weapons and tried to surround and kill the massive Draenei.

Their hearts were filled with violence-driven savagery, and they feared nothing because they had superior numbers.

But after two of them were rammed down and trampled to death in the first exchange, then another group was swiftly cut down by Dick after he ignited them in a burst of radiance like flaming-headed captains, the orcs realized that something seemed very wrong.

"A legend!"

From above, a Shadowmoon warlock releasing Void fire to devour souls screamed in terror, "The Draenei sent a legendary vindicator to attack us! Quick! Retreat!"

Before she could finish her warning, the broken spear Dick hurled pierced through her body like a golden meteor, carrying her out of the building before pinning her to a wall.

Beneath the torturer's body, set ablaze by holy fire, was a curled-up herder. She witnessed it all with her own eyes. She saw that under the assault of her powerful fellow clansman, these savage orcs were no different from pigs awaiting slaughter.

The terror in her heart was dispersed by the dancing light. Trembling, she stood and watched the Vigilant Saint, like a giant forged from the Holy Light, swing his warhammer and slaughter the fleeing orcs in panic. She saw the vindicators counterattacking throughout the village like wolves and tigers. Villagers had already begun rebuilding a defensive line with crude weapons, while Minara, the injured priest stationed in the village, was shouting something.

The orcs were nothing to fear.

That was what the female herder told herself.

With great difficulty, she reached out and pulled the half of the broken spear pinning the dead orc free. The thug warlock had been burned to black bones by white holy fire, yet blazing holy flames still burned upon the sharp weapon.

But the flames of light did not burn her fingers. Instead, they brought healing warmth.

Something within the weapon seemed to be roaring fiercely, but she could not care about that now.

Clutching the weapon, she staggered toward her hut. When she saw her child being seized as a slave by an orc with colorful markings painted across his face, a mother's strength filled her. With a fierce cry, she lunged like a savage Talbuk.

Wielding the saint's war spear, she pierced straight through the savage orc's back with a single charge and ignited him into a brilliant torch.

It was as though the saint himself had arrived!

"Don't be afraid. The Vigilant Saint has come to save us."

Holding her crying child, she spat upon the corpse at her feet and staggered toward the crude defensive line the villagers had formed under Yrel's leadership.

Dick had no need for civilians to join the battle. That was not what civilians should do.

He only needed them to protect themselves. He would handle the fighting.

At that moment, Ambori Village resembled a performance staged after the saint's resurrection. The legendary Vigilant Saint rode a magnificent holy spirit and swung his weapon. Every strike triggered a violent Holy Light explosion upon his enemies, while every sweep of his hand brought a majestic healing aura.

The sacred energy flashed so frequently that visible ripples of light formed wherever Dick went, like halos encircling the saint.

And the holy fire bestowed upon him by Brilliant Star was so intense that even the toughest orc thug would have his skin and flesh ignited by a single blow from that burning warhammer.

The orcs had no way to extinguish this scorching, mutated Holy Light. They could only scream as they met their fate of being burned to ash. Even the Shadowmoon warlocks wielding the power of the Void could not withstand this sacred fire.

Or rather, it was precisely because they wielded such grim power that Dick's white holy flames burned more fiercely and savagely upon them.

They said that a dog resembled its master. The comparison was not entirely appropriate, but this milky-white holy fire truly matched Dick's temperament. When dealing with enemies, it knew no such thing as mercy.

By the end of the slaughter, even the vindicators who had followed the saint there could no longer approach the battlefield.

The heat and light blazing around the Vigilant Saint were too excessive. The energy flames circling him like a brilliant blazing sun scorched everything around him, friend and foe alike. The vindicators could even feel their armor melting.

They could only escort the civilians out of the settlement to prevent them from being burned by the saint's power.

"Quick, make the Vigilant Saint stop his divine power!"

The captain of the vindicators stamped her foot anxiously. "At this rate, the entire village will be set ablaze by holy fire! There are still fellow clansmen hiding in the houses."

"We can't get close!"

The elite ranger was also sweating profusely as she said, "The saint may have slept for too long. His holy power is somewhat out of control! This is too outrageous. Are all those ancient Eredar monsters?! Archbishop Neri and those ten-thousand-year veterans of the Hand of Argus are the same when they go mad on the battlefield. No one can restrain them."

"Yrel! Child, don't go over there! You'll be melted by the Blinding Light of that blazing sun!"

Tenum, the old village vindicator, cried out in shock and fury. The captain turned around just in time to see recruit Yrel rush into the blazing sunlight ignited by the saint himself.

She was like someone diving into a mass of light and shadow, vanishing from sight in an instant.

Then, beneath everyone's worried gazes, the scorching light suddenly changed in the next moment. The domineering power that had incinerated all things like a descending sun transformed instantly into gentle Dawn Light, sweeping across all of Ambori Village in an expanding wave of healing.

The civilians bathed in the morning light cried out in surprise.

Their wounds visibly healed beneath the dawn's glow. Even their minds and spirits seemed to have been touched by holy hands, their exhaustion swept away.

As the miraculous morning light faded, everyone saw the imposing Vigilant Saint standing in the center of the village with a weapon in hand. The warhammer in his grasp had been completely melted by his own holy flames, while the charred remains of rioters lay scattered all around him.

Those terrified wretches had even remained in their kneeling, begging postures, but the Saint showed them no mercy. Being burned to charcoal by the wrathful radiance of the Harbinger of the Sun was the only ending they deserved.

Yrel knelt on one knee at the Saint's feet, as though praying devoutly.

But in truth, she had just narrowly escaped death. Dick had nearly failed to restrain his legendary power and almost incinerated this promising child along with the orcs.

"Sorry, child."

He lowered his head, gently touching and healing Yrel's burned forehead as he sighed.

"I failed to control my power. The rage of witnessing my people being harmed nearly overwhelmed me. The fervor of battle made me feel as though I had returned to that brutal final battle on Argus. Those regretful memories keep haunting me."

"That is precisely your holiness, great Vigilant."

Yrel endured the pain and said,

"I have sworn to become someone like you, to protect our people with the same blazing radiance that annihilates enemy chieftains."

"Do not imitate me. Surpass me and become a better person."

Dick encouraged her with a bowl of warm, fragrant soul-nourishing advice. Then he regretfully glanced at the gem warhammer melted by his own power. This state of holy power overload was proving rather deadly.

The vast amount of accumulated holy power had to be released as soon as possible, or this loss of control would sooner or later injure his own warriors.

He tossed aside the warhammer, removed and discarded his ruined armor, which had been completely melted away, and strode toward the rescued civilians wearing only a durable pair of large shorts ingeniously crafted by Eredar artisans and that sturdy Augure chest backpack.

By now, the people of Ambori Village had learned from the vindicators that the Vigilant Saint they had worshipped for over two hundred years had returned to life. It was the Saint of their faith who had saved them from Ambori Village's disaster. So when Dick approached, no one knew which genius started it, but the civilians all dropped to their knees in a rush.

Dick was rather helpless about that.

The Draenei two thousand years later really are polite. They greet people by throwing themselves flat on the ground. Should I kneel and kowtow to you too?

"Saint, this is your weapon. Thank you for saving me and my child."

The female herder trembled as she held up the broken war spear with both hands and offered it to Dick. He nodded and took back his battle staff, then glanced at the little girl kneeling beside her mother. Tears still stained her face, but she was secretly studying him.

Dick gave her a gentle smile before walking toward the vindicators.

"Mom, the Saint smiled at me!"

The innocent child cheered, and her mother pulled her tightly into her arms.

She had nearly lost her child.

Ah, thank the Vigilant! Thank the Holy Light!

"Vigilant, some people from the village were taken away. Our brother Tenum says those villagers were seized and brought into the Shadowmoon Clan's fortress."

The captain of the vindicators reported to Dick,

"If we leave now, we may still be able to catch up to those slavers."

"And force them to kill our people first under threat of death? No! They must have taken our Clan members away to conduct some sort of messy sacrifice. The villagers are safe for now."

Dick shook his head.

"Rest in the village tonight. You have fought continuously and need rest as well. At dawn tomorrow, follow me to Shadowmoon Fortress to rescue them! Send scouts to trail those slavers, and find out what exactly is going on with the orcs.

"If the captured people will be in danger tonight, then we leave immediately."

Having said that, Dick looked toward Minara, the injured village priestess, and the old vindicator Tenum.

The former was Ambori Village's spiritual leader and village chief, while the latter was responsible for maintaining daily order. Both were Draenei born outside Argus. Under the Saint's gaze, they were somewhat nervous, but they still did their utmost to stand straight and show him their respect.

"Can this place contact the Ranger Enclave?"

Dick asked.

The priestess Minara immediately nodded.

"The communications device was damaged, but I can repair it. At the latest, we will be able to contact Elodor by tomorrow morning."

"Good. Do it as quickly as possible."

Dick nodded, then said to the old vindicator Tenum,

"Is there a blacksmith in the village? I need to repair my weapon."

"You mean the legendary 'Kazzak's Grudge'?"

The old vindicator looked awkward. He sighed and said,

"There are blacksmiths, Saint, but I do not think their skills are enough to repair such a holy relic for you. Nor do we have high-quality materials. This is only a small village."

"It does not need to be fully repaired. Just replace it with an iron shaft."

Dick waved it off indifferently.

"I only need it to be able to fight. Other weapons... sigh, they cannot withstand me fighting at full strength. Also, I need a set of armor suited to my size. Is one night enough?"

"Ordinarily, it would not be enough. But if it is your request, everyone in Ambori Village will stay awake all night to prepare everything you need by dawn."

The old vindicator was clearly a sly one.

Sensing the Saint's goodwill, he smiled and said,

"Please do not feel pressured by our enthusiasm, Saint. Serving you is Ambori Village's honor! In fact, we have tended to your holy coffin for over two hundred years. We have long been your children."

"Then I truly am blessed with many children."

Dick burst into hearty laughter.

That laughter dispelled the majesty of the Vigilant Saint, making him seem more like a living, breathing person.

A moment later, a Draenei merchant woman cautiously approached. She bent at the waist to salute Dick and said,

"I just heard your concern, Saint. You need not risk damaging a holy relic merely for battle. If you only need a fine weapon, I can provide one, in thanks for saving my homeland and my life.

"I guarantee that it will be the finest weapon you can find in Ambori Village."

"Oh? The legendary 'Village Good Sword'?"

Dick blinked and said,

"Then bring it out and let me appraise it, child."