I left my hometown by car early this morning, and by the time I got to where I'm staying, it was almost nine. Sorry this chapter is late—please bear with me.
"With my blood, I will defend honor!"
As the Order of the Silver Hand's battle cry rang out, two golden wings of light appeared behind Saidan Dathrohan. Together with the morning sun streaming through, they made the mighty commander look like a saint from legend.
Avenging Wrath!
The enemy's frenzied slaughter had filled the young Paladin commander with rage, and he instinctively unleashed a power he had yet to master completely.
The moment the wings of light appeared behind him, Dathrohan charged at the forefront. His two-handed greatsword flashed white as he brought it down in a vertical slash against the enemy at the very front. The sword weighed more than ten pounds, yet in his hands it was light as a feather. But that wasn't all: holy light flowed from the blade like frost still untouched by the sun, forming a golden trail about a foot beyond its tip.
Crusader Strike! The power of the Holy Light was imbued in the blade, inflicting holy damage in addition to the weapon's own. Against this attack, one had to guard against more than just the weapon itself; the dazzling blade of light extending from it was just as dangerous.
"Clang!"
The weapons met. A dark-red scepter rose to meet the blow, and sparks flew as it collided with the swiftly descending, gleaming blade. The Death Knight's leader braced the Paladin's strike with his scepter, but having never faced an attack like this before, he had failed to guard against the sharp edge of the Holy Light.
The moment he parried the enemy's blade, Teron Gorefiend seemed to hear something faint