Ripples Continue
"Renault Mograine, what did I tell you..." With a furious roar, Alexandros grabbed his eldest son by the sleeve and dragged him out of the prayer room, ignoring the calls and attempts of his adopted daughter Sally Whitemane to stop him, and shoved him to the ground.
"Father, stop! There are too many people here." Dressed in a red, tight-fitting outfit, the young and beautiful Sally Whitemane looked at Renault Mograine, who had been thrown to the ground like a chick, with a look of heartache in her eyes, but she did not dare to go forward to help her up.
"Go back, I'll handle things here." Alexandros glared at Sally, his young and beautiful adopted daughter, like an enraged lion. Suppressing her anger, Sally Whitemane could only lower her head and leave in the face of this lion's gaze.
"Now, leave Hearthglen and go to the Silver Hand. I want you to keep an eye on Darion. He is absolutely not allowed to come back here without my permission." Alexandros dismissed his adopted daughter and, looking at Renault, who was standing up hesitantly, held his breath.
"..." Renault glanced at Sally as she entered the prayer room, then looked at his furious father and the crowd of onlookers, and could only lower his head and turn away.
"Remember, take good care of Darion." Alexandros watched his eldest son walk away alone, feeling a bit annoyed by his son's lack of ambition, and gave him a reminder. However, he received no response from Renault, which infuriated him. He wanted to go up and remind him with his fists or a slap, but unexpectedly, a voice called out to him from behind.
"Your temper is getting increasingly fiery, our Ashbringer, Renault, he hasn't done anything wrong!"
"No, he certainly didn't do anything wrong. I was just reminding him that as a Paladin, he needs to always uphold his moral principles." Alexandros almost blurted out what was on his mind, but thankfully stopped himself in time. He forced a smile and turned to Dathrohan, explaining that he was simply urging Renault not to do anything a Paladin shouldn't do, such as indulging in romantic feelings, because that would bring shame upon the entire Mograine family.
"But you've gone too far. There are too many people here, Renault is an adult," Dathrohan said gently to Alexandros, as if advising a friend.
"I am his father, and also Ashbringer." Alexandros looked at Dathrohan, who was kindly advising him, and his face unconsciously darkened. He had repeatedly turned thousands of Undead into ashes with his greatsword and had become the leader of the Scarlet Crusade, revered as Ashbringer. He believed that this was his family matter and that it was none of the business of outsiders.
"Alright! But please don't do it again next time." Dathrohan looked at Alexandros, who was unwilling to accept his advice, and couldn't help but smile coldly in his heart, but on the surface he still gave gentle advice.
"Alright, let's not talk about this anymore, Dathrohan. I need to talk to you about something. We need to prepare an offensive against the Forsaken." Alexandros changed the subject, unwilling to continue the conversation. He pulled Dathrohan away from the crowd and quietly changed the subject.
"When?" Dathrohan's expression faltered slightly as he followed Alexandros without making a sound, asking in a low voice.
"Within one to two months, before summer arrives, the reinforcements from Stormwind and Ironforge are already stationed in Alterac. We must be prepared to retake our capital. Only then will Lordaeron have any hope of survival," Alexandros with deep concern.
"Why do you say that, Alex?" Dathrohan glanced at him slightly, his expression a mixture of concern and suspicion.
"Don't doubt my thoughts, my old friends. Ironforge and Stormwind may be reliable at times, but we must rely on ourselves." Alexandros's expression was extremely grave. He didn't elaborate, but only mentioned it veiledly.
"But Stormwind and Ironforge have always been our allies, haven't they?" Dathrohan seemed hesitant.
"In short, you can't go wrong by listening to me." Alexandros looked at the perpetually clueless Dathrohan and couldn't help but sigh. He had to figure everything out for the Scarlet Crusade on his own. Perhaps sometimes the advisor Fairbanks could offer some excellent advice, but he simply couldn't rely on anyone else.
"Alright! I'll listen to you. You're never wrong, Ashbringer." Dathrohan looked at the somber-faced Alexandros, spreading his hands slightly in a gesture of unconditional trust.
"Of course... the Light will protect us." Alexandros smiled with satisfaction at Dathrohan's address and shrugged slightly. Feeling the weight of the greatsword on his back, he was filled with ambition. He would save the country from disaster, for he was the Ashbringer, and the Light would help him.
"By the Light." Dathrohan looked at Alexandros, whose face was beaming with a confident smile. While feigning piety, he sneered inwardly, "May the Light protect you."
Just as the Scarlet Crusade was preparing for a major operation, on the Sunfury Spire in Silvermoon City, Zul'ra and Lor'themar signed a new treaty of friendship and began to help Liadrin re-establish her doctrines and assist M'uru in his restoration.
With Amani as an external condition, although the Sin'dorei, led by Astalor, were somewhat reluctant, all experiments concerning M'uru, including the training of the Blood Knights, were halted.
Zul'ra sent the latest treaty back to Zul'Aman with his entourage, and also fetched water from the Sacred Pool from the Sacred Pool Peak.
When the two-handled ceramic jar containing the Sacred Pool was placed beneath M'uru in the basement of the Blood Hall, starlight-like crystalline specks flew from the slender neck of the jar and coalesced on M'uru's body, which resembled a self-rotating chandelier. Although the appearance remained unchanged, the light emitted by M'uru became much softer invisibly.
"M'uru, how are you feeling?" Liadrin asked M'uru softly, watching the shimmering glaze emanating from the ceramic jar.
"Very good, thank you, Zul'ra Jin, and thank you too, Liadrin." To Liadrin's surprise, M'uru actually spoke while spinning, and it was in the Common. When she turned her head, she found that she was not imagining things, because the expressions of the onlookers around her indicated that they had all heard M'uru's words.
"You can speak now?" Liadrin looked at the bewildered Tae'thelan, Mela, and the others beside her, and couldn't help but be slightly surprised.
"In fact, I have always been able to speak. I couldn't communicate with you before because of my physical weakness. There were obstacles on both sides to some extent. Your suffering from the disaster and my hesitation in the face of fate hindered our communication. Lately, I have been practicing the Common repeatedly, and with the healing of these sacred liquids, I can now communicate with you!"
M'uru's voice was clear as crystal, like a morning bell or evening drum, full of sacred and ethereal meaning. He revealed the reason why he could not communicate with the Sin'dorei, and at the same time, he made Tae'thelan, Mela and others beside him feel a little ashamed, because they had many thoughts in their minds. Of course, technical people like Astalor were filled with more wonder and admiration.
"Thank you, the Light, and thank you, M'uru." A joyful smile spread across Liadrin's face.