Garus walked with the group toward the camp of the Silver Hand. Along the way, Kael briefed him on all that had transpired in Azeroth during his absence.
Though only a few years had passed, the world had changed dramatically—more than even the war-torn Marvel Universe. Conflict here was constant and far more brutal.
Arthas had fallen, and Highlord Bolvar Fordragon had assumed the mantle of the new Lich King. On the Horde's side, Vol'jin had risen as Warchief. Entire new races had emerged, along with uncharted continents…
When they reached the camp, the sight that greeted them was grim: rows of weary paladins. The Light could mend wounds, but it couldn't erase exhaustion.
Suddenly, Kael turned to Garus. "By the way, since you've returned… if you can revive the dead, could you help bring some of our people back?"
In theory, resurrection existed in Light-based magic, but only a few commanders of the Silver Hand were capable of using it, and even then, they could only resurrect a small number of people at great personal cost.
Kael still didn't understand how Garus—whose body had once radiated death energy—could now revive so many at once.
"Sure, no problem," Garus replied casually. It didn't take much effort for him anyway.
He followed them into a tent, where rows of fallen paladins lay still—their blood-loss deaths too recent for decay to set in.
Among the bodies, Garus noticed two beautiful blood elf women clad in paladin armor. They looked nearly identical—clearly sisters. In a world like this, beauty didn't spare anyone from the horrors of war.
Garus suddenly recalled the previous request from the Soulstone. A sly grin spread across his face.
A blinding gold light flared in the tent—though in truth, it wasn't the Light. It was merely an illusion conjured by Garus.
He inverted the energy of death, transforming it into a flood of life force that surged into the fallen bodies. The souls lingering nearby were drawn back into their flesh, one by one. The once-dead paladins slowly rose to their feet, their gazes confused and unfocused.
But Garus had tampered with the process.
He intercepted the souls of the two blood elf sisters and instead inserted the essence of the Soulstone and TOAA (The One Above All) into their bodies.
They staggered upright, clearly uncomfortable in their new forms.
"Don't say a word," Garus said telepathically to them. "And for the love of the Titans, don't let anyone find out you're not who you appear to be."
Still reeling from the transition, they sat on the ground, struggling even to form words. After all, they had never been alive before—not in the way mortals were.
TOAA, now inhabiting a mortal shell, felt outright repulsed. The body was far too weak, capable of only basic Light manipulation. For a being of her stature, it was like wearing a suit of wet paper.
The Soulstone, too, was displeased—but wisely held her tongue.
Staring toward the distant skyline, Garus spotted towering structures still visible even from here. "What's that place?" he asked. "Why are there so many powerful demons there?"
"That's the Tomb of Sargeras," Kael replied. "Once the resting place of the corrupted titan Aegwynn defeated. There are countless Legion portals within. Gul'dan opened them again… until you killed him."
As night fell, the camp grew silent. Apart from a few sentries, everyone collapsed into deep sleep, exhausted from days of relentless battle.
As Garus prepared to lie down, two graceful figures slipped silently into his tent.
He smirked at first—maybe he'd made an impression on someone during the day. But as he looked closer, he recognized them: the two blood elf women, now possessed by the Soulstone and TOAA.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" he snapped in a low voice. "Don't get seen! I don't want any misunderstandings. I'll be gone in a few days."
TOAA—now in the form of the blood elf named Aesh—stared at him with an expressionless face. "I want out of this body. You need to give me something stronger. Maybe not as strong as you, but at least something at the level of the Five Cosmic Entities."
"Keep dreaming. I don't have the time or the patience for that," Garus replied, eyeing them up and down. "Honestly, I think you look fine as you are."
His thoughts wandered briefly, but he shook them off. "Ahem. Anyway, let's not get distracted. I'm wrapping things up here and leaving soon. Now go back before someone notices."
The Soulstone—now calling herself Yuria—grabbed the grumpy Aesh by the arm and pulled her away, retreating into the shadows.
The next morning, the reinvigorated paladins gathered early for drills.
Highlord Tirion Fordring sat in his tent, lost in thought, his face marked by deep concern.
"Something troubling you, old man?" Garus asked as he walked in. "Maybe I can help."
Tirion looked up. "Gul'dan may be dead, but a faction of elves who've pledged loyalty to the Burning Legion remain. Our scouts report that Gul'dan and these elves were in contact with Sargeras. They intended to summon him from the Void. Whether they can still do it, I don't know—but we can't take any chances."
These Night Elves were powerful, and the Silver Hand alone wasn't enough to stop them. Both Horde and Alliance forces were stretched thin, barely holding their lines.
"Sargeras, huh? Leave that to me," Garus said calmly.
Tirion stared at him, struggling to understand his confidence. Sargeras was the mightiest of the titans—a being capable of turning a planet into a burning cinder with a flick of his hand. If not for Azeroth's ancient defenses, this world would have already been destroyed.
"Just wait for my good news," Garus said with a wink as he exited the tent.
Tirion hesitated, then quickly grabbed the Ashbringer and followed—but Garus was already gone.
He grabbed a passing paladin. "Where did Garus go?"
"He opened a portal right here in camp and stepped through, my lord," the knight replied.
Tirion let go and turned to his lieutenant. "Quick—assemble every combat-ready paladin. We march on Suramar."
"My lord, shouldn't we wait? You've not fully recovered, and the Horde and Alliance reinforcements haven't arrived yet. And we're still not sure how to breach the barrier."
Tirion narrowed his eyes. He trusted what he had seen. Garus's mass resurrection at the Tomb of Sargeras had proven he was no ordinary warrior. Still, he would need backup.
"We'll gather at the edge of the barrier and assess. Those Night Elves won't leave their city."
"Yes, Highlord."