Eastern Plaguelands offensive and defensive battle is over.
Quel'Thalas who appeared at the end Elite Burning Legion, is like the last straw that overwhelms Camel, especially when Kael'thas shows up in person, bringing Mage Corps and After Kel'Thuzad fought three times in the sky of Eastweald, Naxxramas could only sadly return to the sky where West Darrowmere and Tirisfal meet.
Kel'Thuzad also lost his own "God of War". The rampant Abomination was shot into a real sieve by Windrunner Sisters. Its twisted spine was also used as a proof of glory and hung in the center of Corin's Crossing for people to admire.
In this battle, almost all the Undead elite troops who invaded Eastweald were wiped out, including Archlich, the commander of Scholomance Ras Frostwhisper, his body was torn into Fragments by Thassarian and Ebon Blade Knights, and his soul was also imprisoned in the secret spell of Death Knight. Death Knights planned to torture this soul to get information about Naxxramas.
Undead retreated across the board, while Paladins advanced triumphantly. In almost three days, they recovered the entire Crusader's Hold and Hearthglen. Even the city of Undead, Andorhal, During a concentrated spell cast by the Earthen Legion, it was completely turned into a ruin half buried underground. The "coward" summoner Araj blocked all Undead at the city gate, and escaped into Tirisfal region at the cost of serious injuries.
At this point, the battle situation has returned to the situation before the war began, and this time, Paladin's side has an absolute advantage. If it were not for the fact that the knights were exhausted due to repeated fierce battles, I am afraid that these bellicose knights could have pushed all the way to Tirisfal.
It was at this time that Stratholme, which became safe again, welcomed a special guest.
In the humid morning mist, a guy wearing a Gray cloak walked out of the forest path. He was holding a starry Warhorse in his hand. On the saddle, there was also a Golden Girl looking around. It looked like Like a High Elf, it is worth mentioning that the silver Fire of Justice, the weapon that has spread throughout the entire Northern Frontier, and even the entire world, is on the back of this Ponytail girl.
After receiving the news early, Jaina and Liadrin, who were waiting at the back door of Stratholme, which was under martial law, saw the girl and couldn't help but let out a completely unladylike sound. exclaimed, and the blond girl's reaction was even more violent. She jumped off Astral Steed, cheering and pounced on Jaina and Liadrin like cannonballs.
Soon, the three very eye-catching girls were chatting together, and Dick also smiled at the corners of his stubbled mouth under his hood.
Darion stepped forward to hug Dick and patted each other on the back, but Brigitte who was following him didn't know how to face this old friend.
"Dick... I..."
As soon as Brigitte opened his mouth, he was interrupted by Dick reaching out. Paladin lowered his head and looked at the bright red mark on Brigitte's wrist., Miss Abbendis seemed a little sad and wanted to avoid Dick's gaze, but in the end she folded her wrists in front of her. After a few seconds, Dick asked,
"I heard about General Abbendis... It's really a tragedy, but, Brigitte, my friend, have you really made up your mind?"
Miss Abbendis was silent for a few seconds, and finally nodded silently.
"Huh..."
Dick took a deep breath, "You finally embarked on this road, Brigitte. I hope that even in difficult times, you will not forget that you still have your friends here."
After saying that, Paladin patted Miss Abbendis on the shoulder and took Astral Steed back into the reins. Just as he walked past Brigitte, he suddenly asked again,
"By the way, I heard that Admiral Bali Westwind, who disappeared during the fall of Lordaeron three years ago, is back. He is now in Tyr's Hand, right?"
This question was asked so suddenly that Brigitte didn't even have time to think about it.
She nodded subconsciously, but a second later, she immediately realized that something was wrong. She took a step back, held down the hilt of the sword, and looked at Dick warily, but the next moment, Darion's Fist hit Brigitte on the back of the head very ungently. The female general rolled her eyes and fell limply into Darion's arms.
"Well done, Darion!"
Dick shrugged and narrowed his eyes, like a cunningly smiling fox, "Tie her up. Brigitte is in a very bad situation. General Barry has a problem. Let her stay in Stratholme until the matter is resolved. By the way, you can try to reform her during this period, Darion."
This sentence made young Warrior stunned for a moment. He put Brigitte on his shoulders, and then looked at Dick,
"What can you use to influence Brigitte? You know, she has made a decision, and even ten cows can't bring her back!"
"Use love! My child, if you don't want Brigitte to die inexplicably somewhere, then find a way to influence her with love."
Dick's teasing words made Darion blush with embarrassment. He tilted his head, but soon asked seriously,
"What about Scarlet Crusade? We put Brigitte under house arrest, they will go crazy!"
Hearing this question, Paladin's eyes suddenly turned cold.
"That is an organization that should never have existed from the beginning. If it wants to continue to exist, it had better follow my ideas! My patience with Northern Frontier has long been exhausted."
After saying that, Dick turned and walked into the back door passage of Stratholme. Three chirping girls followed him. Dick lifted his hood. Wherever he went, whether they were Recruits or veterans, they all paid tribute to him with respect. Some civilians who had experienced the cruelest war even half-knelt on the ground.
In this City, Dick has this qualification, and his Half portrait is even now kept in front of Stratholme City Hall.
His first title was Savior of Stratholme, which was the first and most unforgettable step in Dick Legendary's life.
Five minutes later, outside a secret room on the third floor of the City Hall, Dick took a deep breath and gently opened the door.
Warm sunlight shone into this somewhat small room from Window, and the flame in the fireplace was beating weakly, making the temperature of the room very pleasant.
A book is spread out on the table, as well as several bottles of old wine that have been opened. In front of the fireplace, a white-haired old man is sitting beside the fire with his back to Dick. From his scattered clothes and somewhat slovenly face, any Paladin can recognize him.
Ashbringer, Alexandros Mograine, Northern Frontier's Punisher! Holy Light's Sacred Agent!
His life has been magnificent, and any incident can be told as a Legendary story, but now, he is a poor old man and a bad drunkard.
Dick closed the door and strode forward. Instead of talking to Mograine, he sat down next to him, leaned on the chair, closed his eyes, and began to meditate.
After 10 minutes of silence, a hoarse voice appeared.
"Are you here to see my joke? Dick"
The old knight casually took a bottle of wine from behind and poured it into his mouth without looking at it. He drank hard and let the fragrant wine slip from the corner of his mouth onto his clothes.
"I gave you the son I didn't value, and you trained him into a Hero. I took the son I valued with me and wanted to train him to be the next Ashbringer, but he almost killed me. Haha, f**king family ties, this feels really bad."
Dick did not open his eyes. He put his hands behind his head and said slowly,
"As a father, you are a failure, Alexandros, but you have another son, and that traitor is still at large. If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time here."
The old knight laughed, his laughter full of sadness,
"I have no power anymore, Dick! It doesn't respond to me anymore!"
As he spoke, the old knight put his hand on the dim Ashbringer Holy Sword beside him. The weak Holy Light flowed in his body, but unlike the overbearing and burning Holy Light before, the current Ashbringer was as silent as a useless mortal soldier.
"I don't even have the power to punish that traitor. You don't understand, Dick, I have lost everything. If it weren't for Darion, I might have..., God, I can't even imagine that one day I will have thoughts of suicide."
Dick opened his eyes and looked at the depressed old knight.
"Alexandros, you are nearly 30 years older than me, but look at how you look now. Tirion lost Holy Light's favor 4 years ago, but he is still as strong as a 20-year-old. Young man, he can't even kill a Death Knight, but so what? He is still the person Undead Scourge wants to kill the most, and his importance even exceeds that of you and Ashbringer!"
"I'm not preaching to you, and I don't have that qualification! But please remember, it is you who made Ashbringer, not it who made you!"
Dick turned around, moved his body, and put his left hand on Grand Knight's shoulder.
"A weapon will only be honored by the person wielding it. You understand this better than I do."
Paladin straightened his collar and strode out of the room.
"Tomorrow morning, we are going to Salvation Uther. Your old friend, that poor man has been trapped in Naxxramas for almost 2 years. No one knows what miserable things happened to him. If you want to come, Alexandros, I welcome you."
"And Scarlet Crusade, if you don't plan to run that terrible organization anymore, I will use my method. Many people will die, but Northern Frontier will eventually settle down."
Dick opened the door and walked out. The room became quiet again. The old knight's hand spun twice on the hilt of Ashbringer. The weak Holy Light was injected into Holy Sword for unknown number of times, but it was still cold. The moment the old knight's fighting will collapsed, he knew that he had lost Holy Sword's approval.
Every Artifact has its own will. No weapon will accept an owner who denies its own existence.
The old knight chuckled twice. His hand left the hilt of the sword and picked up the wine bottle again. Soon, after a bottle of wine, he spread his hands with satisfaction. In the warm temperature and the clinking and rolling sound of the empty wine bottle, he fell asleep.
Maybe there, he is still the all-powerful old knight, maybe there, Renault is still his dearest son.
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