"Holy Light, grant me strength." Tirion raised the Ashbringer in his hands once more. Endless Holy Light erupted, illuminating this place shrouded in blood mist.
"You will bring us light." "We believe in you." "Let the Scourge receive the punishment they deserve." ...
The souls within the Ashbringer whispered. Those undead whom Tirion had purified bore no resentment toward the old paladin. Instead, they were extraordinarily grateful to him for freeing them from the Lich King's control. Some of their souls had attached themselves to this weapon, while others had become heroic spirits guarding Tirion. Now, they bestowed their highest blessings upon Tirion Fordring.
The power of souls was not to be underestimated. The Holy Light energy produced by a second-stage compression of soul energy was so immense that even Patrick looked over.
The entire valley seemed to light up, with Holy Light radiating outward from Tirion at its center.
Sensing the fluctuations of energy, Patrick marveled, "This is probably Holy Wrath at its highest level."
Wherever the Holy Light shone, whether upon Alliance or Horde, human or orc, wounds rapidly healed. Coalition soldiers who had lost the ability to fight and fallen to the ground, their lives hanging in uncertainty, picked up their weapons and stood again. The plague-laden blood mist in the air dispersed the instant the Holy Light touched it. Beneath its radiance, the plague had nowhere to hide.
The Coalition Forces rang with songs of triumph, while the Scourge faced a dire crisis. The plague Ner'zhul had unleashed was being dispersed by Tirion Fordring's Holy Light. Since Tirion Fordring's eruption of power, countless undead had dissolved into blood mist, yet it still had not reached the Coalition Forces. The ordinary Scourge caught in Holy Wrath immediately burst into flames, disintegrated in the light, and were purified.