Don't Look Down on This Chance to Die! So Many People Want One but Can't Even Find a Way!

"Ugh, that hurts..."

Those were Dick's first words after he became able to speak again.

He stroked the scar left behind after the wound on his throat had healed. Even now, his fingers could still feel a scorching heat, like touching flame.

Before treating him, High Priestess Ishana had used a professional term: "cauterizing treatment." It perfectly represented the nature of the Holy Light's healing power.

Gentle spells such as Healing and Restoration were fine, but when someone like Dick suffered a fatal wound that required a massive concentration of Holy Light, the heat it produced was practically no different from burning.

That was why, in the True History of the Dark Portal, powerful paladins often had such exaggerated scenes when fighting evil, reducing their enemies to ash. The extreme release of immense Holy Light in a short period inevitably created a burning effect similar to Fire Magic, while the light and shadows produced by the Holy Light's flames were dazzling beyond measure.

It even felt a little like "light pollution."

That was also an important reason paladins were jokingly called "drama kings."

Compared to the plain and unadorned combat styles of other classes, the outrageous visual effects they carried into battle were indeed far too flashy and extravagant.

Dick rose to his feet and clenched his fists, feeling the strength in them. He threw several punches on the spot, then followed with a swift spinning kick. His movements were agile, fully displaying the might of a High Defender, with none of a patient's weakness remaining.

As expected of a legendary priest who served the Naaru. That healing and dispelling were practically miraculous. A few hours of treatment had given Dick a new lease on life.

Although Lady Ishana had never mentioned the price of the blessed medicine she had given him, its effects were so extraordinary that anyone could tell it was priceless.

If the Grand Executor had not taken notice of him, something like that would never have gone to the captain of an academy security unit.

He had not even had the chance to thank Lady Ishana in person. Before he woke up, Malderan had already seen her off. Once this was over, he had to personally visit the Naaru Temple and thank her.

When Dick finished putting on his Defender armor, slung his long-handled warhammer with its head carved from a massive gemstone over his back, and pushed open the door, he found the five young prodigies discussing strategy—how to clear the Demon Unmatched Trial with more efficient tactics.

Seeing them being so "dedicated," Dick nodded in satisfaction. Then he cleared his throat and said to his nominal "disciples,"

"Kids, we're changing the training subject today. I'll be your opponent."

That distinctive verbal tic made the five young prodigies turn around at once. To their delight, Commander Diakum had fully recovered. His voice was quite magnetic, carrying a hint of passion beneath a Defender's steady composure.

Of course, Dick did not call them "kids" just to take advantage of seniority.

Although the Eredar were an Eternal Life race, they still observed generational hierarchy. Dick had already been over two hundred years old when he underwent the High Defender Trial in the Krokuun region, and he had spent another thirty years as the head of security at the Arcane Academy. At a full three hundred years old, he truly qualified as an "elder" before these "kids" who were only a few decades old.

Still, he was nothing compared to ancient monsters like Archimonde, who was over a thousand years old. Kil'jaeden, Velen, and the Enlightener Sarkir were all more than four or five thousand years old. It was said that Eredar society even had an "older generation" who had personally seen Primordial Sorcerer Augure. That had been tens of thousands of years ago.

Of course, the Eredar's Eternal Life did not mean they could not die. Illness, accidents, and suicide brought on by severe emotional trauma had always been major causes of death among the Eredar.

Furthermore, although the Eredar possessed Eternal Life, their race had a very peculiar "defect."

It was said that if an Eredar lost the will to persevere in despair without dying, or suffered the corruption and contamination of dangerous external energies, they would "degenerate" under the torment of spiritual suffering into their most primitive form.

Their entire torsos would shrink, their strong limbs would become short and ugly, their tails would fall off, and their faces would turn vicious and sunken.

Legends of the Broken had always circulated through Eredar civilization, but few people had actually witnessed one. Thus, most Eredar regarded them as a "horror story," often used to frighten unruly children—things like, "If you don't behave, the Broken will come snatch you away and eat you."

But Dick knew that the Broken were real!

After the world of Argus finally fell, those poor souls who had failed to flee with old Velen and refused to join the Burning Legion as demons gradually degenerated into Broken through prolonged torment. They even developed their own social structure and civilization.

"Have you recovered?"

Fareeya stepped forward with her war spear in hand, looking at Dick as she said, "Are you sure you can participate in actual combat already? After being injured, you should recover gradually, Commander."

"Is sparring with a bunch of rookies like you not 'recovering gradually'?"

Dick waved a hand and laughed. "Do you really think you can defeat a High Defender? Kids, confidence is a good thing, but being too confident will make you fall flat on your face.

"Come!

"You first!"

He rolled his shoulders, drew the gemstone warhammer from his back, and assumed an utterly flawless defensive stance.

Diakum's High Defender tactics had been imprinted upon Dick's soul. After watching the five young prodigies fight day after day, his hands had long been itching. Though he could not use class skills, simply exchanging basic moves was enough for Dick to adapt more quickly to this inherited "legacy" of techniques.

He also had to make himself stronger as quickly as possible.

Although he had figured out the true meaning of the Holy Light Doctrine, Dick felt that a lifelong oath was something that required careful consideration. He was in no rush to forge another Holy Light contract.

"Bring it on!"

Fareeya had always hated losing, and Dick's few words immediately fired her up.

Under the watchful eyes of her companions, she gripped her war spear and cautiously adjusted her footwork. Then she suddenly surged forward with a thrust. At that instant, the Holy Light within her attached itself to her weapon, making the war spear shine brilliantly. The combat visuals were extremely exaggerated.

But Dick simply took a step back and opened the distance.

It was almost an instinctive reaction born of muscle memory, drawn from Dick's "younger" days fighting dangerous Shadow Panthers in the Petrified Forest and defending herders on the plains. This body's past may have been mediocre, but its combat experience had never been filled with slacking off.

The Krokuun frontier was no kind place. No child who had grown up there and made something of themselves could have been truly worthless.

When Fareeya tried to press forward and continue her assault, Dick swung his warhammer into the middle of her off-balance spear. The tremendous recoil nearly sent the weapon flying from Fareeya's hands. Just as she was about to retreat and defend, she saw Dick dragging his warhammer as he leaped toward her. He let go of it with his left hand, swung his fist in a wide arc, and drove it upward into her chin.

That unstructured punch sent Fareeya flying straight up from where she stood before she crashed to the ground in a daze.

She had been completely stunned.

As she rubbed her head, she saw Dick approach and offer her a hand, his face full of apology.

"Sorry. I've only just recovered, so my control over my strength is still a bit off. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, but..."

Fareeya said helplessly, "Your fighting style is far too unconventional. There aren't any tactical moves like that in the Defender manuals."

"But when a Shadow Panther attacks you in the Petrified Forest, that's the best response. The speed at which you swing a weapon can't match the frequency of those 'ghosts' swiping their claws."

Dick pulled Fareeya to her feet and said to the others, "Training according to the manuals can strengthen your fundamentals, but you can't rely on fundamentals forever in battle. You need to learn to combine techniques flexibly. More importantly, you must learn to unleash your Holy Light at the proper moment.

"Rookies have limited Holy Light energy. It cannot constantly enhance the destructive power of your attacks. Only when you are certain your strike will land should you compress the Holy Light and channel it into your weapon in an instant, enchanting your attack with radiant damage.

"In my experience, rookies are better off using Holy Light for defense rather than offense.

"It is simply too difficult for you to seize those fleeting opportunities in battle.

"Most importantly, your control over the Holy Light is still clumsy. You also cannot manipulate your energy as freely as a High Defender, releasing and retracting it at will in a short time."

"Then you should be teaching us that technique."

Fareeya rubbed her aching chin and stared brightly at Dick. "You're a High Defender. You must know the trick to controlling energy like that, right?"

"I do, but I can't."

Dick revealed a perfectly measured trace of helplessness and disappointment. He raised his left hand, looked at it, and shook his head.

"My Holy Light Doctrine has shattered, kids. Until I find an oath worth upholding for the rest of my life, the Holy Light will no longer answer my call."

"What?!"

That answer shocked all five young prodigies.

A shattered Holy Light Doctrine was truly rare among Eredar Defenders. After all, they were beings blessed by the Holy Light. Their innate affinity for it made it easy for the Eredar to sense its presence.

But after they heard Dick calmly recount what had happened to him, they, like Defender Malderan, realized the "impact" that tragedy had left on Commander Dick.

"Headmaster Archimonde is awful!"

Imira gripped her staff indignantly after hearing the story. "How could he treat his loyal follower like that?"

"Loyal blood spilled in the wrong place."

The usually taciturn swordsman Tramon offered that rare assessment.

Even his gaze toward Commander Dick carried pity now. No wonder Commander Dick had been so determined to fight that evil master and disciple pair.

"It's all in the past. I firmly believe that no matter how long the night lasts, dawn will come. I also believe that this storm will soon pass."

Dick encouraged them like a patient elder guiding the young. "Take me as a warning. Do not walk the same wrong path I did. I once believed Archimonde's patronage meant that a country boy like me had gotten lucky, but facts proved that every gift fate gives has already had its price marked in secret.

"Continue training, kids.

"Though I cannot use the Holy Light, the skill and strength I gained through years of training should not be underestimated. I will use that experience and technique to arm you quickly.

"Fareeya, Tramon, the two of you attack together this time!

"The rest of you, get ready!

"I won't end today until you thoroughly understand the true worth of a High Defender."

They trained like that for an entire day. Apart from meals and rest, every moment went into honing their combat techniques. Dick went from merely imitating what he remembered at first to reaching a state of complete mastery by the end. After all, those truly were his own combat experience and skills.

Though he was a typical mediocrity who had risen through connections, the fact that he had personally passed the High Defender Trial still proved his worth.

But from another perspective, the five young prodigies had it rough.

Dick used them as touchstones to regain his strength. At first, the five of them could still fight him evenly. By the afternoon, all five attacking together were beaten by Commander Dick until their heads were covered in lumps.

It was not their fault.

Even the most gifted uncut gems needed polishing. Besides, they were still young. Their strength, physiques, experience, and control of the Holy Light were all far from their peaks.

When Dick energetically announced the end of training in the evening, the five young prodigies still dragged their exhausted bodies and hearts battered full of holes back to their resting quarters.

But when Dick returned to his own room, he found a familiar fellow sitting in a chair, admiring the copybook he used for "practicing calligraphy."

"Lord Talgas? When did you arrive?"

Dick set down his warhammer and asked.

The hunter raised his head. A suitably false smile appeared on his gloomy face as he said, "Not too long ago. Just when you were beating those five children until their heads were covered in lumps. Does bullying children make you happy, Defender Diakum?"

"I was only training them. Didn't you notice? Those five kids are all very talented. They deserve careful instruction from their seniors."

Dick replied, but Talgas shook his head.

"They are merely talented. Eredar civilization has never lacked geniuses. Whether they can accomplish anything cannot depend on talent alone. Like those two girls you have imprisoned in the storage room next door—I'm rather curious why you have not executed them yet. Perhaps you have plans for them as well?"

"Yes, I won't hide that. Archimonde needs a reply to put his mind at ease."

Dick nodded. "And I am confident I can persuade two young people who have gone down the wrong path to return to the right track in life. You see, although I am only a security unit captain, I also serve as their physical education teacher.

"We can't only mention 'teaching and nurturing' in front of good students, can we?"

"Oh, how righteous and dignified! Though I wonder what you truly think. Those two girls are rather rare beauties, after all, and their status as twins is an even bigger bonus."

Talgas let out a strange, improper chuckle. Then he stood up and tossed a scroll to Dick.

His expression turned serious. "This is a secret order from Commander Kil'jaeden!

"The good news is that Commander Kil'jaeden and Grand Executor Velen have made a decision. Faced with evidence gathered from many sources, they have tentatively accepted your accusation against Archimonde.

"The bad news is that Grand Executor Velen is as merciful as ever.

"He believes that a twisted desire for power alone is not enough to sentence Archimonde to death. Therefore, if this matter follows the standard procedure, your headmaster will at most be stripped of his position and exiled after having his spellcasting ability abolished."

"Ah! As expected of Grand Executor Velen."

Dick sighed in a complicated tone.

One glance at the scroll in his hand was enough for him to understand. If Commander Kil'jaeden had decided to follow Executor Velen's opinion, Talgas would not have arrived here carrying a secret order. Thus, at least in this matter, the more decisive Commander Kil'jaeden clearly had his own ideas.

Dick opened the scroll and read it, then frowned.

"You have seen Commander Kil'jaeden's instructions. I believe you understand the meaning of this order."

Talgas clasped his hands behind his back, assuming the imposing air of an imperial confidant. He walked to Dick's side and lowered his voice.

"The Commander does not wish to damage his perfect and long-standing friendship with Grand Executor Velen over a 'nobody' like Archimonde. But he also believes it would be unwise to let a genius spellcaster who has learned fel spells run loose.

"With the Enlightener's precedent before us, the Commander is unwilling to gamble the people's welfare and the nation's stability.

"Therefore, you, the 'avenger,' have been granted a very personal opportunity, Defender Diakum.

"Before General Elodus's elite warriors step in to clean up the mess, you may find a way to deal with Archimonde. You may use any means necessary. The Assassin Court and I will provide whatever assistance is needed.

"But there is one thing you must understand!

"Once official forces intervene, you must stop all action. If anything happens after that, Commander Kil'jaeden will not say a single good word for you!

"The Assassin Court will also deny the existence of this secret order."

"I understand. A time-limited 'license to kill,' an 'authorization that does not exist.'"

Dick spoke knowingly as he held the scroll over the candle flame and burned it, leaving behind no evidence. Such professional conduct made Talgas nod in satisfaction.

He stressed to Dick, "You had better have a complete plan, especially when it comes to protecting yourself. The Assassin Court is not particularly skilled at rescuing people."

"I have a plan. And compared to protecting myself, I would rather you and your assassins and hunters focus more attention on the target."

Dick said seriously, "Your understanding of fel energy and warlocks is insufficient. You do not understand that the gifts of fel energy allow those Man'ari to bind their souls to external objects. They create an evil item called a 'soulstone' to preserve their souls after their bodies perish.

"Both Sarkir and Archimonde are warlocks. They have mastered such techniques.

"At present, I cannot determine whether Sarkir and Archimonde have completed their utter corruption by fel energy. If they have already become demons, then things will be even worse.

"You must understand that demons cannot be killed in the material world!

"Their souls return to the source of fel energy and are eventually resurrected through the passage of time."

Talgas's expression shifted slightly.

"This is indeed important intelligence. You are right; we do not know enough about warlocks and fel energy. But it seems you are very familiar with such matters?"

"I was an undercover agent, Lord Talgas."

Dick's expression remained calm. "To gain the Awakeners' Cult's recognition, I spent a great deal of time studying that evil knowledge. If not for the Holy Light's protection, I would likely have fallen to fel energy's temptations long ago. In fact, I have already compiled a report on everything I know about warlocks and fel energy."

He walked over to his desk and removed a scroll from a hidden compartment. He had written it in his spare moments while practicing calligraphy over the past few days. He handed it to Talgas.

Then he joked, "My wrist had been too weak before, so the handwriting is rather ugly. I hope you won't mind."

"Actually, I just looked at it. Your handwriting wasn't very attractive even when you were healthy before. At best, it can be called 'readable.'"

Talgas teased him rather sharply. After carefully reading the scroll, he nodded.

"This knowledge is valuable. If you survive, I will request a reward for you in the Assassin Court's name... I hope you survive, Diakum... Dick. May I call you that?"

"Isn't a nickname meant to be used by others?"

Dick smiled. "When I need the Assassin Court's help, how should I contact you?"

"Use this."

Talgas handed him an exquisite device combining machinery and an arcane Rune Stone, then said:

"Press it when you need to make contact. Once the Rune Stone shatters, someone will naturally come to meet you. But you'd best not treat my subordinates as cannon fodder. That would make me very angry. This will probably be the last time we meet before this is over.

I'll say it again, Dick.

Good luck. May you avenge your great hatred, and may your Holy Light bless you."

"Thank you. I'll handle things properly."

Dick saw Talgas off.

He watched the other man vanish into the evening darkness, then looked at the ashes burning beside the candlestick behind him. The light in his eyes grew complicated as well.

Kil'jaeden truly was Kil'jaeden.

The title of "the Deceiver" he would bear in the future might have come from the demons' flattery, but his cunning, ruthlessness, and decisiveness were undoubtedly innate.

This secret order appeared to grant Dick the authority to act freely, but whether Dick succeeded or failed, whether Archimonde died by Dick's hand or not, Kil'jaeden's hands as commander would not be stained by even the slightest trace of ash.

He gave Dick the chance to risk his life, yet Dick would still have to thank him in the end.

That was the power of authority and wisdom.

In terms of intellect and talent for battle, Kil'jaeden might not have matched Archimonde, that genius spellcaster. But when it came to emotional intelligence and the ability to scheme, ten Archimondes would not be worthy of carrying Kil'jaeden's shoes.

That was the caliber of a Grand Executor at the height of Eredar civilization. Unfortunately, old Velen was still as indecisive and overly kind as Dick remembered.

It seemed faith in the Holy Light had not made Velen gentle. This Grand Executor had always been a kind and benevolent man.

But that was not a bad thing, either.

If he were ever forced to follow a Grand Executor on some "bold journey across the world," then at least by Velen's side, he would not have to worry about dying inexplicably in some conspiracy he had been sent to carry out.

That was the value of the one fellow among all the complicated figures who had appeared throughout the tens of thousands of years of grudges and entanglements in True History of the Dark Portal, universally acknowledged as an "old nice guy."

But now that he had received Kil'jaeden's authorization, Dick no longer hesitated.

He pushed open the door and entered the storage room next door. He gestured to Fareeya, who was standing guard at the entrance, and she immediately opened the door. Dick walked inside and looked at the two "prisoners" before him, tied up tightly and deprived of even a drop of water for two days.

He crouched down and said to the two "bad students," whose eyes were filled with terror:

"The Holy Light, in its mercy, has given you a chance to choose again. Children who have strayed down the wrong path, I hope you will consider your next answer to me carefully.

Even the merciful Holy Light has the fury to slaughter demons!"