Dathrohan's Last Meal

Hearthglen, a town once ravaged by the Scourge and later reduced to the Scarlet Crusade's most stubborn stronghold, was now bathed in an unprecedented light.

The Naaru Adal's majestic body, composed entirely of Holy Light, stood beyond the town. The vast radiance it emitted washed over the land like a warm tide, cleansing every inch of gloom and despair. This light was not an attack, but a profound purification and summons that reached directly into the depths of every living soul.

The effects were immediate and staggering.

Within the town, the Scarlet Crusade soldiers who had worn numb expressions and fanatic gazes felt the obsession and hostility on their faces melt away like ice and snow beneath the pure Holy Light. They stopped patrolling or training in confusion, their weapons lowering involuntarily. Many even loosened their grips unconsciously, letting swords, axes, and shields clatter to the ground.

They looked up at the Naaru, their eyes filled with unprecedented clarity, shock, and tears as though they had finally found where they belonged. Without needing any command, they fell to their knees and prayed devoutly to the incarnation of Holy Light, willingly accepting the light's judgment and purification.

Yet what truly caused an uproar was the figure who appeared after the Naaru.

When Tirion Fordring—though simply dressed and holding a broken sword, his entire body burning with immense, pure power of the Holy Light—entered everyone's sight, the people of Hearthglen erupted!

"Lord Fordring! Lord Fordring has returned!"

"My lord! Your Holy Light... your Holy Light has returned!"

"The old lord is back! We're saved!"

Many residents who had once been Fordring's followers or subjects, along with even some rank-and-file soldiers, cried out excitedly. They had long suffered enough under the Scarlet Crusade's terrifying tyranny. The old Fordring's appearance and his incomparably pure