Dick did not know exactly how powerful Kel'Thuzad was, but he knew he could not possibly be stronger than Zakajz at his peak. That was a major boss capable of taking on a guardian crafted by the Titans themselves head-on. Kel'Thuzad had yet to become a lich; even a weakened Zakajz would give him more than he could handle.
Sure enough, just as Dick tumbled to the ground with the greatsword as tall as a man, Kel'Thuzad was jolted out of his intoxication with the dark power of Xal'atath, Blade of the Black Empire.
But before he could fully activate the Scourge Mark on the back of Dick's hand, he saw Dick lying on the ground, looking at him without expression. His left hand, bearing the Scourge Mark, was already beneath the blue-and-red steel sword he had laid horizontally.
Swish!
The blade flashed, and foul blood streamed out. Dick grunted, gripped the hilt, and staggered toward Jaina. She had already shaken off the Anti-Magic Shackles around her wrists and the fetters on her feet, and she grabbed Dick and ran out of the cavern.
The left hand severed by the razor-sharp Strom'kar turned to stark white bone the instant it hit the ground.
Yet that stroke, reckless as it seemed, had truly cut a path to escape for Dick and Jaina.
With nothing holding her back, Jaina, who had rested well over the past two days, could naturally use her ample mana to escape with Dick. Besides, Kel'Thuzad now felt a faint unease. Given the composure Dick had shown throughout their journey, did he really intend only to flee?
But Kel'Thuzad was powerless to stop Dick and Jaina now, because Zakajz had launched a frenzied attack on him.
This was one of the most powerful servants of the Old Gods. Even after being sealed and weakened for 22,000 years, its own strength alone was beyond what mortals could handle. Its sinister arts, derived from the Old Gods, left Kel'Thuzad somewhat at a loss. On top of that, Xal'atath in his hand had begun whispering eerily, constantly interfering with his spellcasting.
Under these combined pressures, Kel'Thuzad, who had been outrageously cool and domineering since his first appearance, found himself completely suppressed in head-on combat for the first time by the fully ten-meter-tall Zakajz.
The crypt was already filled with the Dark Tide raised by Zakajz and Kel'Thuzad's mixed magical energies. After Jaina brought Dick outside, they saw the Death Knights and Skeleton Warriors still fighting Faceless Guardian Bors. The two fugitives paid no attention to that battlefield.
But just as Jaina was about to leave the temple grounds, Dick, weakened by excessive blood loss, caught hold of her. Even running was now a struggle for him. Although Jaina had torn open a precious magic scroll and cast a healing spell on him, the healing magic sealed within a scroll was practically a joke in the eyes of real priests, so it had barely managed to stop the bleeding.
"Go to the temple on the left!"
Dick was adamant.
"But your wound!"
Jaina looked at Dick worriedly. Gritting his teeth, he forced a sentence out between them.
"Go left! There's something there that can deal with Kel'Thuzad!"
Hearing this, Jaina immediately changed direction again. She all but carried Dick on her back as she went. Had the young lady not grown considerably during this captivity, had she not seen the sacrifice Dick had made to save her, such intimacy between her and a man would have been utterly unimaginable.
At this point, they also had Kel'Thuzad to thank for activating the Scourge Mark when they entered the temple. The slow transformation into an undead throughout their journey had reduced Dick's weight by at least a quarter. Otherwise, the young lady might well have been unable to carry him.
During their earlier conversations, Dick had always been vague about the temple's layout. This, too, had actually been a disguise. Kel'Thuzad did not know what lay buried in this side hall. Otherwise, he would have chosen to destroy the place completely, even if it meant forgoing the Blade of the Black Empire.
As mentioned earlier, Tyr had chosen to detonate his own body here, destroying every servant of the Old Gods except Zakajz. But Tyr had not actually been blown entirely to pieces. After the explosion, the guardians who arrived found two things he had left behind.
The first was his weapon, the Silver Hand Warhammer, imbued with the power of order. It was also one of the three artifacts for the paladin class in the game.
The second item was also called the "Silver Hand," but this one was not a weapon.
During the final battle between the Dragonflights and Galakrond, king of the Proto-Dragons, Tyr, who had joined as an ally, had most of one arm bitten off by Galakrond. Thus, he forged himself a fist of silver.
This was also the origin of the name of Lordaeron's foremost fighting force, the Order of the Silver Hand. Yet Archbishop Alonsus Faol, the creator of the paladin class, might never have imagined that the two real Silver Hands still existed in this world.
They were also Tyr's final two relics.
Tyr had once been known as the King of Order. Though his power differed from the Holy Light, both were lethally effective against undead creatures, practically their natural bane. Moreover, the side hall contained a "self-destruct" mechanism. Once activated, it could instantly destroy every structure in the temple, burying everything at the bottom of this deep, secluded lake.
In this world, only Dick and several guardians in Ulduar, the hidden Titan domain in Northrend, who had already been completely corrupted by the Old God Yogg-Saron, the Fiend of a Thousand Maws, knew this temple's secret.
This was also why Dick had chosen to tell Kel'Thuzad the artifact's location. He had been sixty percent confident he could lure Kel'Thuzad to his death here. Although Kel'Thuzad would be reborn as a lich a year later, at least for that year, he would no longer be able to threaten Dick and Jaina's lives.
Jaina struggled into the side hall with Dick on her back. It was not dark here. On the contrary, an ugly "chandelier" directly overhead was emitting a faint, pale yellow glow. No one had visited this side hall in nearly ten thousand years, so time had cast a shadow over everything.
Yet when Jaina came into contact with that pale yellow light, her panicked heart abruptly grew calm.
Even the gravely wounded Dick found peace deep within his heart in that pale yellow glow. At that moment, even his physical pain was suppressed.
Order power! A force utterly opposed to chaos. Compared with the Holy Light, a neutral energy that even strong-willed undead could use, order power was even more lethal to beings outside order, such as the undead!
Beneath the side hall's yellow light stood a stone statue holding a warhammer high. This was Tyr's likeness.
But Dick no longer had time to pay attention to the statue. He struggled to his knees, raised the incomparably sharp Strom'kar with one hand, and drove it hard into the ground beneath the statue.
"Dig! This is a cenotaph. Once we get the Silver Hand and take the warhammer, this temple will self-destruct. Kel'Thuzad can't break away. This is our only chance to be rid of him!"
Dick had barely finished speaking when a commotion arose outside the side hall. Startled, Jaina ran to the entrance and looked out, then immediately screamed.
"Those undead! They've drawn that monster over here!"
"Don't panic! Jaina, hold them off! Give me some time. I only need a little time!"
Dick struggled to control the enormous Strom'kar with his right hand. This was a greatsword that an ordinary adult needed both hands to lift, and a sword was far less effective for digging than a shovel. But right now, it was their only chance.
Once Kel'Thuzad completely subdued the dark artifact Xal'atath, the weakened Zakajz would no longer be able to hold him back. Though the holy hammer, the Silver Hand, hung right overhead, the faint order power in that warhammer probably could not even stop the Faceless One, Pos.
The two fugitives had little time left.
Jaina stood where she was, watching Dick swing his remaining arm as he struggled to dig through the heavy stone slabs. She saw the ferocity and defiance now showing on that usually calm face. She knew he was staking his life on this.
Hidden in the sleeve of her robe, Jaina's right hand gently released the teleportation scroll Antonidas had made himself. She drew a deep breath and, for the first time in her life, prepared to die in battle. In this wildly unequal fight, she entrusted her back to this penniless, uncouth soldier.
He was not a noble.
Nor was he a champion.
He would bow his head to an enemy.
Nor could he give others inspiring courage.
But what did any of that matter?
Apart from her father far away at sea and her mentor, he was the first man who could make her feel safe.
Wasn't that enough?
Two Death Knights, thirty Elite Skeletons, one faceless guardian, and one legendary mage-three factions began a fight to the death in the cramped side hall, while outside the fighting, Dick desperately dug at the earth.
One minute, two minutes, three minutes.
The sounds of fierce combat reached Dick's ears every moment. He was already exhausted. He no longer even had the courage to raise Strom'kar. His heart burned. He had actually fallen so low that he needed a woman to risk her life for him just to survive!
More than once, Dick thought of raising Strom'kar and turning to charge into the battle. But he knew that staying here and digging up the Silver Hand, which would enable the temple's self-destruction, was the only way he could help Jaina.
Mechanically, he thrust Strom'kar into the ground, then pressed all his weight onto its hilt to pry up the earth. He strained his ears, terrified that the next moment would bring Jaina's scream.
He dared not stop. He could not stop!
So move!
Damn this hand!
Move!
Damn this body!
Clang!
Strom'kar's tip struck something hard. Dick frantically tossed the greatsword aside and threw himself into the pit of black earth. Scrabbling with his right hand, he struggled to pull the gleaming silver box out from directly beneath the statue. Gritting his teeth, he opened the unprotected box and saw the miniature silver fist inside.
Dick clutched the silver fist, which looked like a work of art, and made to rush into the fight. As long as this Silver Hand appeared, the order power Tyr had left upon it would absolutely drive away those undead and the Faceless One. Once Jaina took down the "chandelier" warhammer from the temple ceiling, they could leave.
But at that very moment, just as Dick climbed out of the pit in wild delight, he heard the sound he least wanted to hear.
"Ah...!!"
He saw Jaina, her body brutally pierced by the Faceless One's enormous crab claw.
He saw that lovely figure fall to the ground.
"Clatter..."
The Silver Hand struck the ground. This thing Dick had regarded as his trump card for turning the tables was tossed aside. It no longer held any meaning.
Dick had always thought that what sustained him as he kept digging was this silver fist, the prospect of turning the tables against the odds. But at this moment, as he collapsed helplessly to the ground, he finally understood that his spiritual pillar, the drive that kept him digging even when he was utterly spent, had never been this silver fist.
It was Jaina, that young lady, that woman who, even in these circumstances, had still been willing to believe in him and was still buying him time.
Now, his spiritual pillar had collapsed, so...
There was no point anymore.