In the darkness, as the cries of battle gradually faded, the aged soul seemed somewhat disappointed. He turned around, his back to Darion.
Darion fell silent. A few seconds later, he raised his head.
"No, I'm not a child. Although I'm a reserve Paladin and can't inherit this path, I'm not a child! I want to become a champion!"
"Oh? That sounds like a fine ambition. Then... prove it to me!"
"How do I prove it?"
"Kill the child in your heart, and let the true warrior emerge!"
Everything around him was silent. Darion watched the soul dissolve before his eyes and looked at the utterly still space. He pressed his lips together. He knew what those words meant. Gritting his teeth, he recalled every time his father had scolded him, every time his brother had mocked him. He recalled how his father's face had aged years after his failure, his own wild heartbeat when he had just seen Dick kill an abomination with a single strike, and his determination as he stood in front of Erigor.
He raised the longsword in his hand and laid it across his neck. The next instant, the blade cut into him.
That ringing voice echoed in Darion's ears again. The king with the greatsword on his back appeared beside him once more, patted his shoulder, and laughed heartily in his booming voice.
"Hahahaha! A true warrior should roam far and wide! A true warrior lives only in war! Blood is our medal, and death is our battle song! Wherever we go, there can be only one sound! The sound of blades, the sound of thunder, the sound... of warriors!"
"Go. Remember this anger. It will be the source of your strength!"
"Go. Remember this death. It will be the vanguard of your destruction!"
"Go. Kill everything that stands before you! Trample everything! Subdue everything! Destroy everything!"
"Strom'kar... reveal its edge, and make the whole world tremble again!"
"Hum!"
Darion opened his eyes. Strom'kar, its shape constantly changing amid the blood-red light in his hand, began to hum at that very moment. That was the blood Darion had dripped onto the massive sword, but now it burned like flames!
Strom'kar, originally blue-green and red and shaped like an ancient, unadorned war sword, had turned entirely blood-red. Its hilt lengthened by a third, forming a small, axe-shaped blade at the end.
A hideous blood-red skull appeared where the hilt met the blade, then spread into four protruding, backward-facing edges. The blade grew long and slender, its cutting edges joining into a single curve like a tilted war axe, while another blood-red skull formed below.
Blood-red light surged along the blade like burning crimson flames.
The sword had no unnecessary ornamentation. It was plain, yet carried a frenzied killing intent. The artifact acknowledged its master, and Strom'kar, infused with Darion's will, forcefully expelled the faint Holy Light from his body. At that moment, the artifact finally revealed the other form that suited Darion best: the Blade of Wrath.
The form with the greatest frontal killing and breakthrough power!
At that moment, the reserve Paladin holding the sword also set foot on another path, different from his original fate.
Darion propped himself up with the sword, gasping for breath. He reached up, tore off his shattered armor, and threw it onto the ground. Then, gripping the blood-red Blade of Wrath with both hands, he charged at the abomination.
He was furious.
He was frenzied.
He was bare-chested, blood flowing over his frail body.
But he did not want to stop. He refused to stop. He would shatter his fate!
He staggered, but grew faster and faster. Finally, Darion leaped with all his strength, and under Erigor's astonished gaze, a blood-red crescent of moonlight swept across the abomination's enormous body.
The next instant, behind Darion, who had already landed and was supporting himself with the massive sword, against the backdrop of Stratholme burning in blood and fire, before that utterly chilling blade-light had faded, the abomination's enormous head flew into the sky.
This... this was the beginning of Darion's new path.
"Bang!"
Dick flew toward Ramstein. Suspended in midair, he had nothing to push against and could only watch the enormous Meat Cleaver sweep toward his body.
In these circumstances, Dick could no longer afford to conserve his strength. All his Holy Power gathered over his body, and the golden shield that had previously blocked Mal'Ganis's strike appeared again. The black Meat Cleaver stopped at the surface of Dick's body, unable to advance any farther.
The tremendous impact also gave Dick an opening. Gripping the Holy Hammer with both hands, he swung it to the right, sweeping aside the tightly wrapped chain. With his only point of support gone, Dick drifted down to the ground.
He leaned on the Holy Hammer, panting. That single exchange had emptied all the Holy Power he had recovered. Dick could feel the weakness coming from within his body. In this condition, facing the vicious Ramstein opposite him, fighting was out of the question. Merely managing to defend himself would be an achievement.
Holy water! I still have holy water!
Dick watched Ramstein bare his huge mouth in a savage grin. This mountain of flesh put him under enormous pressure. Apart from Kel'Thuzad and Mal'Ganis, this fellow was definitely the strongest enemy Dick had ever seen!
He pulled a bottle of faintly sparkling holy water from his Storage Backpack. This liquid containing diluted Holy Light energy had now become his only chance of victory. But as he touched the holy water, Dick's hand brushed something else, making his expression change.
In the game, just splashing holy water onto a monster produced considerable corrosive damage!
Dick unscrewed the bottle of holy water, but when he saw Ramstein's enormous body, he hesitated again. Against a monster with such unimaginably high vitality, unless Dick could pour the holy water inside his body, he could not hurt its core at all.
Once something grew large enough, its body became the best defense!
Ramstein was already roaring and charging toward him, shaking the ground. Dick was like someone standing in front of a moving mountain. The greater abomination had raised the scythe and Meat Cleaver in his hands, their edges gleaming lethally. No one would willingly take that blow head-on, and Dick was no exception.
This fellow's strength was far too great. Even the 100-point strength threshold granted by Holy Strength was a third weaker than its strength. There was no way to fight it head-on. He could only stall!
Beep... Quest triggered: Cut Off His Arm! Ramstein the Gorger is one of Rivendare's most trusted lieutenants, and an obstacle you cannot get past. Kill it!
There was no time to think!
To Dick's left, toward Stratholme's Elder's Square and Garden Fountain, raging fires had already sprung up. This had to be Arthas's doing. Dick knew that the fire would eventually spread throughout Stratholme. Large medieval cities like this were difficult to set alight, but once they caught fire, putting them out was anything but easy.
He gritted his teeth and decisively poured the entire bottle of holy water into his mouth.
Bitter! So bitter!
The moment the holy water entered his mouth, Dick felt his mouth go numb. But when the cold liquid reached his stomach, it lay still for a second, then burned like fire.
Dick's Holy Power was recovering rapidly! Though the sensation was far from pleasant, like a burning lump of coal had fallen into his stomach, under the pressure from both inside and outside, he soon unleashed all his fighting strength.
"Clang!"
Dick swung the Fire of Justice, knocking away the iron hook sweeping toward him. The tremendous force made him stagger.
I can't take it head-on!
So he followed the momentum and jumped to the right, slipping forward. Holy Light energy surged over the Fire of Justice's surface, making it resemble a golden torch as it whistled through a circle and smashed into Ramstein's scythe-wielding left arm. Yet where the Holy Hammer struck, there came a sound like metal clashing.
The recoil nearly tore the hammer's handle from Dick's grip. Looking closely, he saw that the greater abomination's arm was actually wrapped in bands of crude but unquestionably sturdy, durable iron armor.
Damn it!
Dick ducked and cursed as the sharp hook whistled over his head. The malformed limb on Ramstein's back jerked backward, and the hook that had flown past came at Dick from behind again.
But Dick ignored the attack. He darted forward, closing on the wildly axe-swinging Ramstein in a few quick movements. Bent low, he rolled across the ground, avoiding the whistling hook while rapidly drawing close to Ramstein's body.
"Bang!"
The Warhammer in his left hand collided with the scythe in Ramstein's thick, stitched-up right hand. Swung with only one hand, the Warhammer could not withstand the abomination's tremendous strength and was knocked backward. Ramstein turned his head, about to bring the Meat Cleaver in his hand down on Dick's head, only for his mismatched eyes to catch sight of Dick sprawled on the ground, a silver Dwarven Rifle extended in his right hand.
"Timmy's Toy Gun!"
Since Dick had obtained the Fire of Justice, this weapon had rarely had a chance to appear. But now, lacking ranged attacks, Dick could only take a gamble with this gun.
This was the opening he had been waiting for. The abomination was wide open, and the gun pointed straight at its face. If Dick was lucky enough, the two projectiles could very well pierce Ramstein's brain.
Although an undead construct like an abomination would not die immediately even if its brain was destroyed, losing its combat intelligence would turn it into a beast that knew only brute force. Then, using the terrain here, Dick would have a seventy percent chance of killing it!
"Boom!"
In Ramstein's eyes, two fiery red flashes burst from the gun. Propelled by exploding gunpowder, the scorching projectiles crossed the distance of less than four meters at a speed it could not react to, striking its ugly, stitched-together face.
"Aaargh!!"
Ramstein roared in pain, his enormous body retreating and crushing undead that failed to get out of the way. How could Dick let such a good opportunity pass? He scrambled up, stuffed the gun back into his backpack, gripped the Warhammer with both hands, took a few running steps, and swung it in a full arc, smashing it into Ramstein's constantly swaying face, torn open by the projectiles.
Golden Holy Light and order power gushed from wherever the Warhammer struck. Each blow weakened Ramstein's roaring a little more. Only after completely exhausting the Holy Power stimulated by the holy water did Dick shake out his sore, numb arms.
Ramstein's enormous head had been smashed flat. Green, foul blood and plague seeped out of its huge body. Only at this sight did Dick breathe a sigh of relief.
With injuries like these, even an abomination couldn't survive, could it?
He turned, about to clear away the surrounding undead, when he suddenly heard a faint sound behind him. Dick's expression changed drastically, but the next instant, a thick, barbed chain hooked viciously into his left leg. Before he could even cry out in pain, his entire body was dragged away and slammed toward the opposite wall.
Ramstein!
It wasn't dead!