The fierce fighting continued until dawn the next day. When the first rays of sunlight shone into Stratholme, they illuminated a battlefield strewn with severed limbs and filthy blood. Without the dark power shielding them, the corpses that had already begun to rot rapidly melted in the sunlight. Before long, only heaps of white bones remained on the ravaged battlefield.
Although the knights who had fought all night were physically exhausted, their spirits were still high. Wearing armor that bore a few fresh blade marks and carrying their squads' war banners, they proudly patrolled the streets and alleys of the fully reclaimed Stratholme, clearing out any enemies that had slipped through.
Every undead dragged out of the dark shadows drew a round of cheers. After this victory, the morale of the entire Stratholme Regiment reached new heights.
Defeating a powerful enemy could transform a warrior. Buoyed by their immense confidence, the regiment's knights seemed to have been reborn.
Dick, the central figure in this battle, sat bare-chested as the priest beside him carefully tended to his wounds. Although the Paladin template increased his damage against non-order creatures by 100%, it certainly could not guarantee that he would remain uninjured, especially in a melee on the scale of last night's. Only after killing Rivendare had Dick felt the pain coming from every part of his body.
The Holy Light was not omnipotent either, especially while it was still so weak. Keeping Dick from being infected by the plague was already the limit of what it could do.
This was also why Dick had taken no further part in the fighting. Although Miss Whitemane still wore a cold expression, when she saw the patriarch under her command working somewhat hesitantly, she pulled him aside and took over bandaging and treating Dick herself.
Erigor sat across from Dick. Rivendare had slashed a bloody wound across the old knight's chest, an injury that needed prompt treatment, so the deputy commander had also missed the subsequent fighting.
A black longsword patterned with blue markings and a gray, furry cloak lay on the table in front of them. These were the spoils Rivendare had left behind.
Rare monsters dropped additional loot. Dick had already learned that when he killed Ramstein, but when he saw the sword lying before him, he still could not help silently praising his own luck.
"Sword of Rivendare" "Purple" "Strength +20, agility +20, greater armor penetration, greater stamina" "Effect: Command Aura, increases the combat energy recovery speed of allies within 20 yards." "Description: It only has a 0.1% drop rate, you bastard, and you got it on your first try! Just how lucky are you?!"
"Take it, Erigor. This is a fine sword, and you've earned it!"
With some difficulty, Dick reached out and handed the heavy two-handed sword to Erigor. The latter froze for a moment, then reached out and took it. He tapped the blade with his finger, and upon hearing its clear, humming vibration, he grinned broadly and carefully wrapped it in his bloodstained outer robe.
This was another common misconception: greatswords generally did not have scabbards. Azeroth's warriors wrapped them in strips of specially made cloth to keep them from injuring others.
Dick took the other piece of loot.
"Black Baron's Cloak" "Blue" "Strength +10, agility +10, slightly increases movement speed." "Description: A noble's cloak in the classic Lordaeron style, one of Rivendare's collectibles and his favorite cloak. Not only does it not hinder combat, it can also serve as a blanket when necessary."
Lady Whitemane bent over and wound the final bandage around Dick's chest three times, giving it a vicious tug as she finished.
Dick immediately bared his teeth in pain, but still nodded to Miss White like a gentleman,
expressing his thanks. Without putting on his armor, he simply draped the black cloak over himself and walked out of the room with the Fire of Justice on his back. "Mm..."
Dick raised his left hand before his eyes, blocking the sunlight pouring over him. With Rivendare eliminated and the evil Shadow Canopy Magic Circle destroyed, sunlight shone fully into Stratholme for the first time. Dick had never felt that this city was so beautiful.
"Commander! Commander Abbendis from Tyr's Hand is waiting for you! She's brought another thousand greenhorns!"
Herod, who had fought fiercely all night, jogged over with his blood-red axe over his shoulder and stood respectfully behind Dick. Hearing Herod's voice, Dick turned around. His upper body, chiseled by combat and training, paired with the black cloak, unexpectedly gave him a fierce air.
At the sight of this combination, the eyes of Herod, a paladin who admired wild fighting, immediately lit up. Dick patted Herod's shoulder with his left hand and loudly praised him,
"Well done! Herod, you're now a champion of the Stratholme Regiment!"
Hearing this, Herod immediately puffed out his chest. After Dick left, he swaggered back to the Champion Squad's quarters under everyone's envious gazes.
Dick entered the former defensive line's command post. Miss Abbendis, dressed in military attire, immediately rose to salute him. Upon noticing Dick's unusual outfit, however, Miss Abbendis, who had only just turned twenty that year, blushed a little. Still, she was General Abbendis's daughter, and she quickly composed herself.
"Welcome, Miss Brigitte. Oh, you arrived a little late, or you could have caught last night's decisive battle! We killed Rivendare. Stratholme has been reclaimed!"
Dick set the Fire of Justice beside his feet and leaned back in his chair. Brigitte, with her fine figure and striking face, first glanced at the Fire of Justice, which had now become the stuff of legends within the Silver Hand, before turning her gaze to Dick.
From the densely packed wounds on Dick's chest alone, Brigitte could tell how fierce last night's fighting had been. Born into a military family, she had been deeply influenced by her father's teachings since childhood and had never feared war. Thus, she did not stint on praise for this glorious victory.
"Knight Dick, congratulations to you and your regiment. You've accomplished a feat great enough to put us to shame!"
Dick smiled, waved a hand, and asked,
"Then, Miss Brigitte, I'll train these thousand recruits into qualified warriors as quickly as possible. But I imagine simply delivering recruits wouldn't require you to come in person. Is there something important?"
Brigitte Abbendis, who would later succeed General Abbendis after her death in battle and lead the Scarlet Crusade, was still young at this time. Yet her earnest, meticulous way of handling matters had already made her the person in charge of the training base at Tyr's Hand. Strictly speaking, her position in the Order of the Silver Hand was higher than Dick's.
At Dick's question, the smile finally vanished from Miss Abbendis's face. She took an invitation from the leather bag beside her and handed it to Dick.
"The Tirisfal region has been completely destroyed. That bastard Arthas... he, he destroyed Lordaeron. An Undead Burning Legion numbering over a million is advancing toward West Darrowmere. Grand Knight Uther and Grand Knight Dathrohan have adopted a defensive strategy, but a fierce battle is already unavoidable. So the Silver Hand now needs help from other powers. Tomorrow, Grand Knight Uther will hold a meeting at Light's Hope Chapel. Dalaran, Gilneas, and Alterac, even the elves of Quel'Thalas, will all attend."
"Yes, I'll be there."
Dick nodded and put the invitation aside. At that moment, Miss Abbendis suddenly added,
"Actually, Grand Knight Uther hopes you can preside over tomorrow's meeting."
"What? Me? Are you kidding?!"
The news startled Dick into sitting upright, and the pipe in his hand fell onto the table. Faced with Dick's astonishment, Miss Abbendis finally revealed the cheerful smile befitting someone her age. The female soldier looked very pretty when she smiled, her eyes narrowing into crescents.
"Who doesn't know by now that Grand Knight Uther's entire strategy was built on the proposal made by Dick, the 'Fire of Justice'? At the prebattle meetings over the last few days, Grand Knight Uther has said more than once that without your proposal, the Silver Hand might well have been utterly destroyed. You're a famous 'Strategist' now!"
"Ah... what a headache!"
Dick made an exaggerated gesture, reaching up to rub his forehead. It sent Abbendis rocking with laughter, and the earlier solemn atmosphere vanished completely.
After carefully considering it, however, Dick still nodded. He looked at Abbendis.
"All right, I'll preside over it, but I can't guarantee how it'll turn out!"
"Yes, Grand Knight Uther also said that this is an emergency, so you can say everything you want to say. After all, almost all your predictions at the last meeting came true."
Brigitte was somewhat embarrassed as she said this, because at the time, she too had thought Dick's predictions were merely alarmist. Now that reality had proven her wrong, she felt rather awkward.
"By the way, Miss Brigitte, I heard General Abbendis has always disagreed with Grand Knight Uther's ideals. As you know, I'm just a newcomer, so..."
Dick spread his hands helplessly. "Please tell me, what exactly is causing the disagreements within the Silver Hand?"
A trace of helplessness appeared on Abbendis's face at this request as well. Perhaps affected by the relaxed atmosphere Dick had created, the young woman let her military manner show. She crossed her legs, leaned back in her chair, and imitated Dick by rubbing her delicate forehead before saying,
"Actually, the disagreement between my father and the Grand Knight mainly arose on the battlefield back then. The final battlefield of the Second War was Blackrock Mountain in the south. At the time, the commander, Anduin Lothar, had his sword shattered by the orc chieftain Orgrimmar, and the marshal died. At that critical moment, it was Grand Knight Turalyon of the Silver Hand who turned the tide and secured victory in that battle."
"My father witnessed all of it, so from that moment on, he believed that human strength had its limits. Even someone as great as Lothar could die on the battlefield. To make himself and his army stronger, he began studying the offensive properties of the Holy Light. This happened to coincide with Lord Alexandros's aims. Grand Inquisitor Isillien was also one of the senior figures who advocated 'making the Holy Light more offensive,' so the few of them gradually formed a small circle."
"But Grand Knight Uther insists on the purity of the Holy Light and opposes altering its nature through human effort. This is the greatest disagreement within the Silver Hand. As you said, it's a difference in ideals. It's only because of Grand Knight Uther's immense prestige that this disagreement has remained at the debating stage."
"Then, Miss Abbendis, do you think this disagreement will cause the Silver Hand to split?"