The battle at Crusader's Hold lasted an entire day. The Holy Light Barrier was finally destroyed by four Nerubians that infiltrated the fortress, but thanks to the knights' vigilance and reinforcements from Chillwind Camp and Hearthglen, the undead, thrown back into chaos without Arthas's command, were driven off nonetheless.
But this was only the beginning!
In the hall deep within Crusader's Hold were the gravely wounded Dathrohan, Gavinrad, who had nearly been cut down by a single stroke of Arthas's sword, Alexandros, clutching a box, Isillien, who had come to reinforce them, Alexandros's deputy, High Priest Fairbanks, and General Abbendis, who had returned with the remnants of her troops.
These senior commanders of the Order of the Silver Hand and Lordaeron had gathered here. In their midst stood a block of ice radiating cold, with Uther lying inside. Even through the ice, the black wound on his chest sent an involuntary chill through everyone's heart.
"You're saying... once Uther dies, his soul will be drawn into that runeblade, and he might even become a tool that helps Arthas commit his atrocities?"
General Abbendis was a veteran soldier in her forties, her uniform immaculate and a warhammer strapped to her back. He placed his hand on the ice and asked with a sigh,
"Then is there anything else we can do to help Uther?"
Alexandros glanced at the ice and spoke in a low voice,
"Someone offered a terrible solution, but the worst part is that, as things stand, it may be our only hope of saving Uther's soul."
"What solution?"
Isillien asked. Alexandros glanced at Taelan Fordring, who stood beside Isillien, and shook his head.
"There's one more guest. I'll tell you after he arrives!"
Everyone exchanged glances. Dathrohan and Gavinrad said nothing either, merely keeping their eyes closed as though gathering their strength.
Ten minutes later, a tall figure wearing a gray cloak entered the hall. He glanced at those standing there, and when he saw the puzzled Taelan Fordring, his body trembled. But before he could speak, Isillien rose excitedly from his chair.
"By the Holy Light! Tirion! You... you're still alive!"
"What!"
Hearing that name, Taelan nearly fell out of his chair. He stared at the figure as memories from almost two years ago churned through his mind, from his initial fondness to resentment, and now longing. The boy, who had only just reached adulthood, could no longer contain himself upon hearing that familiar name.
"Ah... my old brothers, it's me."
Tirion Fordring removed his gray cloak, revealing his weather-beaten face to everyone. They all grew excited.
Tirion Fordring was no ordinary man. In the original history, of the five first-generation paladins to receive baptism, he was the only survivor to escape the disaster. Seven years later, this legendary paladin took up the corrupted Ashbringer and restored the holy blade's sanctity. After his appearance, the Argent Dawn and the Scarlet Crusade, divided for seven years, reunited.
In the final battle against the Lich King, the world's mightiest champions were gathered together. When the Lich King defeated them, it was Tirion who stepped forward, called upon the Holy Light to empower him, and, wielding the Ashbringer, shattered the runeblade Frostmourne with one stroke, saving the entire world from the darkness of the undead.
During the third demonic invasion, twenty years from now, Tirion Fordring became a primary target of the demon army's assault and ultimately fell on the shores of the Broken Isles. He was also the one who handed the holy blade, the Ashbringer, to the player.
In short, he was an unquestionable hero, whose life was even more glorious than Uther's.
But now, Tirion had yet to attain that future glory. He was merely a middle-aged man stripped of his power of the Holy Light. It had begun
when Tirion Fordring was attacked by an old Orc during a hunt. Rather than kill him, he became friends with him. But Barthilas, the mayor of Hearthglen and a petty man, reported this to the Order of the Silver Hand. Tirion Fordring was consequently imprisoned and tried for treason. In fact, had he simply agreed to lead a party to hunt down that Orc, Uther and Dathrohan would have released him regardless of the outcome. But Tirion refused to betray his friendship and convictions. He chose to be stripped of all authority and status and imprisoned for life.
Yet on the very day his sentence was to be carried out, a group of Orcs suddenly appeared and carried Tirion Fordring off. Nothing had been heard from him since. In truth, however, this cemented the evidence that he had colluded with the Orcs, leaving even Uther unable to clear his name.
Everyone thought he had died or fled. None had expected this exile to appear here again today.
"I received your letter, Alexandros. Uther... has Uther really..."
Tirion reached out and patted his excited son's shoulder, then turned toward Alexandros. The latter waved a hand, and Fairbanks stepped away from the front of the ice. Tirion Fordring's gaze fell upon it.
"By the Holy Light!"
Tirion hurried over to the ice. Looking at the wound, he knitted his brows deeply.
"I heard about Arthas even in Eastweald. It's hard to imagine such dark power! Is there really nothing we can do?"
"No! There is a way!"
Dathrohan suddenly opened his eyes. He rose, embraced Tirion, and then turned to everyone.
"Someone told us that in Deadwind Pass, in the Kingdom of Stormwind, the Wizard's Tower of the slain Kirin Tor, Medivh, holds another dark runeblade that shares Frostmourne's origin. They say it's the only weapon capable of countering Frostmourne's uncanny power. As long as Uther touches that runeblade, his soul can continue to exist. But..."
Dathrohan drew a deep breath and stated the terrible consequence.
"But Uther will also be transformed into a death knight... a death knight with his own consciousness and a free soul!"
"By the Holy Light!"
Hearing this news, Isillien, the oldest among them, sank into his chair, closed his eyes, and cried out. He hurriedly took out his Holy Light Prayer Beads to calm himself.
The others looked as though they had seen a ghost. Abbendis even roared,
"Have you lost your minds? Uther would never agree!"
Everyone fell silent in the face of Abbendis's accusation, but Alexandros raised his head and asked just one question.
"Then what exactly must we do to preserve Uther's soul? Fall into darkness and become an accomplice, or erase his faith and take another path?"
Abbendis fell silent. The hall remained quiet for several minutes. Tears welled in the eyes of Taelan, the youngest among them. He could not understand why the Holy Light would let such a terrible fate befall a knight as great as Uther.
"Whew..."
"I'll take Uther south. Once his soul is saved, I'll leave the choice to him. Now, let's discuss the second matter!"
Alexandros drew a deep breath. With an impassive expression, he tossed the box in his hand onto Uther's block of ice and motioned for Fairbanks to open it.
Fairbanks stepped forward and carefully opened the exquisite box. A gleam of black light burst from within, and at that moment, everyone felt pure darkness spread through the room.
"What... what is this!"
Gavinrad sprang from his chair. This grand knight kept a low profile, which also had to do with the path he had chosen. Unlike Uther, who favored defense, or Dathrohan and Tirion Fordring, who favored offense, Gavinrad's path emphasized healing. This was also because he had joined the Church at Northshire Abbey when he was very young.
Yet no one dared underestimate Gavinrad's influence. In fact, among the first paladins, Gavinrad had the deepest ties to Light's Hope Chapel. He even had very close ties to the Cathedral of Light in the Kingdom of Stormwind.
But just as Gavinrad reached out to touch the little box surging with dark light, Alexandros stopped him.
"Don't touch it! Gavin, or your hand will end up like this!"
For the first time before them all, Mograine removed the glove that, to their recollection, he had never taken off. Only then did they discover, to their astonishment, a wound on Alexandros's left hand so deep that bone was visible. Black energy surged within it as though it were part of his body. It looked like a terrifying spectral claw!
"This was the price I paid the first time I touched it!"
The old knight took an exquisite pipe from inside his clothes. Only after taking a silent puff did he speak.
"Back at Blackrock Mountain, I led my troops to intercept the fleeing Orcs. I found this Gemstone on an Orc Warlock. Its energy was pitch-black, like ink, like water, but it didn't actively affect anything around it, so I hid it away. Not long ago, however, someone told me this Gemstone was the key to fighting Arthas!"
Alexandros swept his owl-like gaze around the room and repeated what Dick had told him.
"He told me that at the end of the Holy Light lies darkness, but at the end of darkness lies the Holy Light as well. Those words gave me an idea, but I need your help!"
"Blast this Gemstone with the Holy Light!"
"Won't that damage it?"
Isillien opened his eyes and lightly tapped the Gemstone's surface with his staff. That simple action alone left a startling speck of pitch-black light suspended at the staff's tip, though it soon dissipated.
At Isillien's question, Alexandros shook his head.
"Don't forget, I'm a paladin too. In fact, before you arrived, I tried blasting it with the Holy Light. But my Holy Light energy was too weak. It might not have reached the threshold needed to transform it! I need us to work together!"
Isillien fell silent for a moment, then asked another question.
"Alexandros, can you tell me who told you these two things?"
Dathrohan glanced at Alexandros and shook his head.
"Sorry, Grand Inquisitor, we can't. But we can guarantee that he's someone we can trust!"
"Very well!"
Isillien stood and aimed his staff at the black Gemstone. The others took up their weapons as well. There was no need to worry about hurting Uther. The erupting Holy Light energy would only slow the progression of his injury, and would not destroy this block of ice reinforced with Enchanted Fortification Runes.
"Three, two, one!"
Boom!
Apart from Tirion, who had been stripped of his power of the Holy Light, the other seven, including Taelan Tirion Fordring, unleashed all their Holy Light energy at the Gemstone. Dense darkness surged within it, like a pool whose depths could not be seen. It absorbed the vast combined Holy Light of all seven in its entirety.
Under everyone's gaze, it began to shine, like the first point of light piercing the darkness. Then it grew brighter and brighter, until everyone had to close their eyes or raise their hands to shield themselves from the dazzling radiance.
Once the light subsided a little, Alexandros was the first to open his eyes. He saw a silver sun. The black Gemstone had completely transformed into a jewel surging with the Holy Light, so concentrated that it had turned from yellow to silver.
Alexandros could not help reaching out to touch the Gemstone's surface. Unlike the warmth he had imagined, its surface was still cold. But a tingling ache came from his left hand. Alexandros glanced down, and his eyes immediately widened!
His wound!
The unhealable wound left by touching the black Gemstone all those years ago had actually... actually healed in an instant!
"By the Holy Light! What tremendous power!"
Alexandros raised the Gemstone high, as though holding up a little sun. He looked at everyone, his eyes filled with excitement.
"It has been born! Look! Our hope of defeating the undead and the darkness! It... the Ashbringer has been born!"
Although Alexandros did not know why he had called this Gemstone the Ashbringer, the words Dick had left before departing made him feel the power of fate.
And so he decided to call it the "Ashbringer"!
Yes, on this day, a legend was born!