"Silver Hand, Purify!"
Uther roared and was the first to charge forward.
Wielding his warhammer and standing on Consecration, he and his four companions formed a wall of Holy Light, pushing forward.
Wherever they went, all shadows were purified, and all shadow creatures were destroyed.
The novice Paladin Liadrin quickly followed.
Her understanding of the Holy Light was no less than that of the five, and though her combat skills were far inferior, the artifact compensated for the gap, allowing her to display formidable combat power.
Those low-level shadow creatures were no match for her.
However, they soon encountered truly powerful enemies—the Faceless One had made its move!
The six at this time were not yet the legendary Paladins renowned later; neither their Holy Light power nor their combat skills were comparable to the Faceless One, who possessed Zakajz's legacy, and they were quickly suppressed.
"I'll do it—"
Igrim intended to intervene but was stopped by Kael'thas.
"Trust them, trust the power of mortals, Lord Igrim."
"They are the first Paladins in this world, and each has great potential."
"They will eventually confront the deepest darkness beneath the earth, confront Zakajz, and confront the Ancient Gods."
"And this small Faceless One is precisely the best sparring partner at their current level!"
Igrim was initially a bit worried.
In his eyes, the strength of these six was too weak, their skills too crude; even with the aid of artifacts, they could not be a match for the Faceless One.
But he quickly discovered that these six, whether in their faith in the Holy Light, mental fortitude, wisdom, comprehension, or combat talent, far surpassed all Tirisfal Guardians.
After only a short while, their initial awkwardness disappeared, and they cooperated seamlessly.
Liadrin, wielding an artifact, stood at the very front!
Though her combat skills were lacking, she relied on the power of the artifact and her unwavering will to repeatedly block the Faceless One's attacks.
Of course, she would make mistakes, but standing beside her was Turalyon, who also adhered to the principle of "protection."
The two, one on the left and one on the right, cooperated with each other, forming a perfect dual-tank array, and no matter how the Faceless One attacked, it could not break through their defenses.
Tirion and Gavinrad, wielding their greatswords, attacked under the protection of Liadrin and Turalyon, their weapons burning with Holy Fire repeatedly striking the Faceless One, causing it irreparable damage.
And in the rear, Uther and Saidan erupted with a purer, more powerful Holy Light, transforming into Holy Fire that descended from the sky, scorching the Faceless One and continuously neutralizing its shadow energy.
"Not bad," Igrim nodded secretly.
The aptitude of these six was quite good; with proper training, they would all be able to advance to the legendary level before long.
Alonsus Faol, leaning on his staff, smiled so much that wrinkles appeared; "Aren't they impressive? Five of them are my disciples, whom I trained!"
With a bang, the Faceless One fell, revealing the tomb door behind it, which had been sealed by shadow energy.
All six Paladins were panting heavily, utterly exhausted, but their faces were alight with excitement, their eyes shining, for they had not let down everyone's expectations.
Igrim strode forward, and a Holy Light far exceeding the combined strength of the six surged into the tomb door; the shadow barrier crumbled on contact.
Everyone entered the tomb and saw an altar in the center, surrounded by shadow creatures, including no less than five Faceless Ones.
Four of them were positioned at the four cardinal directions of the altar.
The fifth stood on the altar, emitting mana fluctuations far exceeding the other four, clearly indicating it was stronger.
"Mortals—invaders—. Disgusting Holy Light—"
"Gronos—kill—kill—kill!"
A mad will assaulted everyone's minds, like an indiscriminate Psychic Scream.
Gronos led all the shadow creatures in an attack.
"So many?"
Saidan Dathrohan's expression changed slightly; one Faceless One was already difficult to deal with, and this small tomb actually had five, with one clearly stronger than the others.
"It is an Exemplar among the Faceless Ones; you can think of it as an elite."
Kael'thas said, "Ordinary Faceless Ones don't have names; only Faceless One elites do. They often serve as captains or low-ranking officers and are generally at the high-tier legendary level."
At these words, Tirion, Turalyon, and the others were all startled.
Among them, only Igrim had truly reached that level; Kael'thas was not even qualified!
Uther, however, gripped his warhammer and loudly boosted morale: "Don't be afraid, we have more numbers! So what if they're elites? We fight elites!"
"That's right, we fight elites!" the other Paladins shouted in unison.
"Uther is right!"
Igrim looked at Uther, his eyes filled with approval.
This young human Paladin seemed to have no fear in his heart; no matter how powerful the enemy, he would charge forward without hesitation.
He had no doubt that even when facing a true Ancient God, Uther would absolutely be the first to charge, never backing down.
"Kael'thas, I'm not familiar with everyone's strength; you command," Igrim said.
"Understood!"
In a critical moment, Kael'thas certainly wouldn't be modest.
"Liadrin, Uther, Turalyon, Tirion, each of you take responsibility for one ordinary Faceless One and make sure to hold them off!"
"Saidan, Gavinrad, you two are responsible for clearing the small fry—that is, the other shadow creatures!"
"High Priest, Archbishop, Marshal Lothar, you are responsible for killing those Faceless Ones one by one!"
"Lord Igrim, we will deal with that Faceless One elite together!"
"Lord Thoradin, cheer us on!"
Everyone immediately complied.
Igrim's tall figure bypassed the foremost Faceless One and arrived at the altar.
He leaped up, and his fist, the size of a casserole, burning with Holy Fire, slammed directly into the Faceless One elite Gronos's face.
With a thud, the face, the size of a stove, caved in, and the hard fist forced its way in, breaking through the skin and flesh, causing blood to gush out.
However, Faceless Ones are not ordinary beings but creations of the Ancient Gods, so this level of damage had little effect on it.
It roared, and its sticky tentacles wrapped around Igrim's body, forcefully pulling his fist out of its forehead.
Surging shadow energy pulsed like a tide, its aura continuously escalating, the wound on its forehead rapidly healing, and the strength of its tentacles grew, holding Igrim tightly in its embrace.
Igrim's expression drastically changed; the opponent's strength was too great, and his hands, feet, and even his head were controlled by the tentacles, making him unable to resist!
A tide of darkness surged, engulfing him, and a large amount of shadow energy sprayed out; this was an attempt to extinguish the Holy Light within him with shadow, corrupt him into a shadow creature, and make him a slave of the Ancient Gods!
More thick tentacles drilled out from underground, coiling around his body, filling all his orifices, trying to penetrate his body and directly plant a shadow seed within him.
At the same time, shadow energy transformed into dozens, even hundreds, of shadow arrows, shooting out in all directions.
"What a powerful area-of-effect attack!"
No one dared to be negligent. Those with shields raised them, and those who cast spells did so, blocking this wave of attacks, then continued to deal with their assigned enemies.
Flashes of fire appeared as Kael'thas traversed half the battlefield, arriving at a corner of the altar. Fireballs, as if free, continuously struck Gronos's back. Elemental fire constantly scorched its body, causing massive damage.
He flashed again, and Flame Strike forcefully pierced through the tentacles of Gronos that were wrapped around Igrim's right arm.
Then, he pulled it out and retreated!
Shadow energy gushed from the wound like spring water, and the tentacle, which had been firm moments ago, went limp.
Kael'thas cast another spell, and Flame Strike enveloped the area, burning both Igrim and Gronos!
Since Igrim had a body of steel and extremely high fire resistance, he wouldn't be burned through in a short time.
If he did get burned, he could slowly recover from his injuries later. This was not the time to be concerned about such things!
"Now!"
Amidst the rolling elemental fire, Igrim's right hand reversed its grip, grabbing the now limp tentacle, and with a sudden surge of strength, he actually tore it off.
Gronos cried out in pain, relaxing its grip.
Igrim seized the opportunity to unleash his Holy Light, transforming it into sacred fire, which burned alongside the elemental fire, incinerating all the tentacles that had burrowed into his body.
At this point, Igrim, whose body was glowing red from the thousand-degree heat, wrestled with Gronos.
One had many tentacles and many moves, excelling at entanglement and penetration. Its body could be soft or hard, constantly changing, making it impossible to guard against.
The other had hard fists and great strength, disregarding all flashy moves, delivering powerful blows repeatedly, relying solely on brute force to fight head-on.
In the fiery inferno without kindling, these high-level legendary arch-rivals were evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand for a time.
However, a third party intervened!
Kael'thas's characteristic could be summed up in one word: fast!
His spellcasting was fast; all his fire spells were instant casts, and their power was not diminished at all under the artifact's amplification.
His flashing was fast; unlike the foot soldiers, his Flash had almost no cooldown. He could flash however he wanted. Although Kael'thas was said to be a Fire Mage, he was actually a dual-spec Fire and Arcane Mage, and his Arcane magic was not inferior at all!
Though mages were often said to be frail, they actually possessed many life-saving skills.
A skilled mage could dance on a knife's edge, or rave on a cliff.
Every time you thought you could harm him, he would always use flashy spells to save himself and escape.
The situation quickly became one-sided.
With a snap, Igrim twisted Gronos's neck, tossed the corpse aside, and looked sharply towards the deepest part of the tomb.
There was a very deep tunnel there, sealed by a shadow barrier.
Massive amounts of shadow energy surged out from within, like the tidal bore of the Broken Isles' beaches.
Igrim frowned: "Who dug this?"
There were two layers of tombs here in total.
The upper layer was Thoradin's Tomb, and the lower layer was Zakajz's Tomb, or rather, Zakajz's cage.
Between the two layers was a thick layer of compacted earth, tamped down extremely hard, mixed with a large number of rune-inscribed stones, all intended to seal Zakajz below forever, to be slowly purified by the power of the Silver Hand.
Now, a tunnel had actually appeared!
It was this tunnel that broke Zakajz's seal, allowing the shadow to infiltrate the upper layer!
"I didn't do it on purpose—"
"When I first came here, didn't I sense shadow power below? As righteous individuals, how could we ignore it? Of course, we had to dig a hole to investigate—"
Emperor Thoradin muttered softly.
Kael'thas looked around and saw that everyone else had also achieved victory.
Everyone here was among the most capable mortals, and there were also the High Priest and Archbishop, two legendary priests clad in epic gear. It would be strange if a righteous group beatdown didn't win.
"Such powerful shadow energy!"
Alonsus Faol walked to the underground passage, gazing at the impenetrable shadow, his expression solemn.
Igrim said: "No matter, the Silver Hand is sufficient to purify all darkness."
Uther asked: "Lord Igrim, where is the Silver Hand? Why can't we see it?"
Everyone looked around, only to see the altar empty, surrounded only by burning holy fires. Besides that, nothing else was visible.
"The Silver Hand is hidden and will only appear once the ritual is complete."
Igrim said: "These flames are tir's fire. They are actually part of the Silver Hand. Through them, we can summon the Silver Hand and so on—wait!"
His expression turned grim: "One is missing! One tir's fire is gone!"
Without tir's fire, the Silver Hand cannot be summoned!
"It must have been taken by these Faceless Ones, down below," Kael'thas said, pointing to the passage.
Uther nodded: "In the endless darkness, I sense a ball of Holy Light; it is being corroded by shadow."
Igrim shot a glance at Emperor Thoradin: "The tir's fire is part of the seal. If the seal hadn't been broken, let alone these common Faceless Ones, even Zakajz wouldn't have been able to take it."
Standing at attention after being reprimanded, Thoradin stood ramrod straight, not saying a word, pretending not to hear.
Anduin Lothar put a hand to his forehead. As expected of his ancestor, just as unreliable as he was in his youth—this was right!
How could truly awesome people be reliable? Medivh even accidentally blew up his own father when he was a child!
And that Khadgar, he had been a super troublemaker in Dalaran since childhood. A good mage, but he was best at picking locks; he had picked every door in Dalaran, otherwise he wouldn't have been sent to Karazhan!
Kael'thas said: "It seems we must go down there, destroy Zakajz, and retrieve the tir's fire."
He looked at Emperor Thoradin: "Lord Thoradin, you are more familiar with the area below. Please lead the way."
The opportunity for atonement had arrived!
Emperor Thoradin immediately perked up, waving his hand: "Follow me!"
Igrim broke through the shadow barrier, and after the group eliminated several more Faceless Ones, they reached the depths of the underground and saw an enormous Faceless One.
Unlike the soft, squishy octopus-like Faceless Ones, it was covered in hard carapace, looking like a tens-of-thousands-year-old, bipedal, upright, ancient demonized giant lobster.
It was over ten meters tall, lying on its side on the cold ground, surrounded by chains thicker than an adult's thigh.
Those were not ordinary chains, but magical chains inscribed with runes. Each one was forged from rare metals like mithril and adamantite, and even legendary weapons would struggle to cut them.
Yet, they were broken, all of them.
They were originally used to bind the Lobster Faceless One, but now they were corroded by shadow energy.
It was so colossal it looked like a small mountain.
And embedded in the body of this Lobster Faceless One was a Vrykul-style greatsword.
"Faceless One General, Zakajz!"
Thoradin's eyes were filled with sorrow: "It was the last enemy of my life, killing all my companions! To atone for my mistakes, I fought it to the death, plunging Strom'kar into its spine, but I could only severely wound it, not kill it!"
Seeing Zakajz, Emperor Thoradin was reminded of his companions from back then.
Among them were warriors, archers, and mages, all master-level professionals. Each had a glorious future, yet all died here because of his curiosity.
Damn Zakajz, damn Ancient Gods!
Kael'thas looked at the greatsword, seeing it covered in familiar High Elf runes, radiating magical energy.
The warrior artifact, Strom'kar, the warbreaker!
It was a weapon crafted by the ancient Vrykul, passed down through generations of Vrykul warriors, eventually reaching Emperor Thoradin's hands.
It accompanied Emperor Thoradin in his campaigns, uniting humanity, establishing the Arathor Empire, and then with him, it slew countless trolls, laying the foundation for human civilization.
To thank Emperor Thoradin for his immortal contributions, the most skilled blacksmiths and enchanters of the High Elves spent countless efforts, infusing Strom'kar with incredibly powerful energy, elevating it from epic to legendary.
It wasn't just this Vrykul greatsword that severely wounded Zakajz, but also the High Elf magical energy contained within it!
Zakajz remained motionless, seemingly suppressed by the magical power, unable to move.
"Pull out that sword and deliver the final blow!"
Emperor Thoradin said, "Anduin, you go!"
"Yes, Ancestor!"
As Thoradin's direct descendant, Anduin Lothar did not hesitate and was about to step forward.
A hand stopped him.
"Don't go over there."
Kael'thas's expression was solemn: "The Elven magic can't suppress it; it's feigning, waiting for you to get close to launch a surprise attack!"
No sooner had he spoken than a demigod-level energy swept through the entire cave. Zakajz slowly stood up, clear shadows flowing from the eyes hidden within its carapace.
"It seems very sluggish, very confused... I know, Strom'kar's power is still harming it, it hasn't fully recovered yet, a good opportunity!"
Thoradin said, "Kill it!"
Igrim said, "I'll take the main attack!"
He took the sword and shield from Lanathel's hand and walked step by step towards Zakajz: "I am Tyr's warrior, Thoradin's Tomb was built by me, Zakajz was sealed by me, so it should be eliminated by me upon its resurrection!"
"You all assist me!"
Everyone surged forward.
This time, Kael'thas no longer held back and summoned a phoenix.
Zakajz at its peak was an existence capable of clashing head-on with the Titan Guardians, not something they, with their limited numbers, could handle.
But it was in distress!
A phoenix losing its feathers is no better than a chicken. Its current strength was even inferior to those weaker Faceless One generals, not much stronger than the Faceless One commanders outside, and it soon fell under Igrim's sword.
"It was I who awakened it, and it was my mistake that allowed it to resurrect; it should be me who ends it."
"However, I am only a soul now and powerless, so I can only rely on you, Anduin."
Emperor Thoradin said.
Anduin Lothar quickly walked over and grasped Strom'kar, the warbreaker, immediately feeling a sense of bloodline connection.
He forcefully pulled out the greatsword, jumped up, and swung it with all his might, slaying Zakajz.
"Whew~~"
Thoradin let out a long breath, feeling Zakajz's will dissipating within him. He was free!
"This sword—"
Alonsus Faol's expression was solemn: "It absorbed Zakajz's corrupt blood and was reforged by shadow energy. It is now a Shadow Artifact!"
He raised his hand, intending to purify it.
"No, absolutely not."
Kael'thas said: "Zakajz's blood and energy have transformed this sword. Originally, it was just an ordinary legendary two-handed sword; now its quality has improved, possessing power no less than the oathbinder, or even the Silver Hand."
"If the shadow energy on it is purified, its quality will drop, which is not worth it!"
Faol frowned: "But it's been corrupted by shadow—"
"Power only has attributes, not good or evil."
Kael'thas looked at the Archbishop, full of meaning: "There are also people in the priestly community who embrace the shadow and use shadow power to fight the Horde, aren't there?"
Faol was silent.
Even at the very beginning of the priest profession, there were not only Holy Priests but also Shadow Priests who embraced the shadow.
Now he knew that those priests were close to the shadow because they were affected by Zakajz's leaked energy.
Shadow Priests were not inferior to Holy Priests; he had seen the most despicable Holy Priests and also the most noble Shadow Priests.
Currently, a group of Shadow Priests was active in the land of Lordaeron. Their leader, Natalie Seline, possessed a Shadow Artifact that had eliminated many powerful enemies and made great contributions to the fight against the Horde.
That artifact was even darker than Strom'kar!
He indeed couldn't say that shadow was necessarily bad; it was just a natural repulsion due to his faith in the Light.
Kael'thas looked at Anduin Lothar: "Marshal, shadow energy is not the problem, but this sword absorbed Zakajz's corrupt blood, containing a part of the Ancient Gods' will. The hidden danger is great; even a person with strong willpower like you could be corrupted and fall by the Ancient Gods if you use it for a long time."
Anduin Lothar was a bit reluctant: "Then what should I do? Do I really have to purify it?"
"It's simple, seal it."
Kael'thas said: "This sword was reforged and enchanted by the High Elves, but the magical power on it is not enough to suppress the Ancient Gods' will. Later, come to Silvermoon City, and I will invite mages to re-enchant it together."
Anduin Lothar was overjoyed: "Then thank you very much, Your Royal Highness!"
He had heard Medivh say that High Elves were best at enchanting, and Kael'thas was an expert among them, stronger in this aspect than all the mages in Dalaran.
With Kael'thas willing to help, this matter was settled!
"Lord Thoradin, what are your plans next?" Kael'thas asked.
Alonsus Faol and the others all pricked up their ears.
This matter was of great importance, potentially even changing the entire world's pattern.
Emperor Thoradin smiled: "I am tired of the world of the living, and the life of an emperor no longer belongs to me. I want to travel around and see this world, but I'm afraid I might be eliminated by some priest or paladin one day."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, Emperor Thoradin had no intention of leading his descendants to charge again, otherwise, the leaders of various nations would have a headache.
Anduin Lothar said: "Ancestor, please come with me; I still wish to listen to your teachings!"
Emperor Thoradin's expression changed slightly, and he quickly waved his hand: "No! I've just regained my freedom. Don't let worldly affairs trap me. I'd rather be purified by a priest or paladin than be a teacher!"
Kael'thas asked: "Lord Thoradin, are your remains still here?"
Thoradin gestured towards Kael'thas with his chin: "There, right under your feet."
Kael'thas lifted his foot and saw a large number of bones half-buried beneath, all preserved for over two thousand years due to being corroded by shadow energy.
However, bones are not steel, and their hardness is limited, so many of them had been broken by being stepped on.
"It's good that there are bones."
Kael'thas asked: "Lord Thoradin, are you interested in becoming an Undead?"
Emperor Thoradin seemed a bit surprised, "Undead? You mean like Meryl Winterstorm? That's… not impossible."
2800 years ago, many of the first human mages died in battle. Due to the urgency of the war, some were resurrected as undead mages to continue fighting. Meryl Winterstorm was one of them.
That kid had good talent. Now, I wonder if he's still alive—no, if he still exists.
If it were before, he would have had no interest in becoming undead.
But he had already existed as a ghost for over two thousand years, he was used to it, and being undead wasn't so bad.
Alonsus Faol and the others wanted to speak but hesitated. Saying this in front of priests and paladins, professions that detest the undead the most, wasn't quite right, was it?
If it were anyone else, they would have purified them with a burst of Holy Light and been done with it.
But facing Emperor Thoradin, with Anduin Lothar and Kael'thas standing beside him, they truly didn't have the guts.
Kael'thas said, "Exactly. The Silvermoon City library has records of such spells, and the orcs also have corresponding magic. I can resurrect you as a Death Knight."
Creating a Death Knight actually wasn't that difficult.
Essentially, Death Knights were just stronger undead.
If all else failed, he could interrogate the orc warlocks, using torture if necessary. Several orc warlocks were captured during the Battle of Silvermoon City and were currently held in prison.
Emperor Thoradin thought for a moment and said, "Alright, it's settled then! Anduin, don't just stand there like an idiot; quickly gather my bones."
"Hey, hey, be gentle! You've already broken dozens of them. If any more break, they won't be able to be reattached!"
Anduin Lothar quickly tore off his cloak and, under Emperor Thoradin's direction, packaged all the bones, only to find that about half were missing.
But it didn't matter; other bones could be used as a substitute.
"tir's fire!"
Igrim plunged his Steel Hand into Zakajz's body and pulled out a ball of flame.
The ground suddenly trembled, and broken rocks fell.
Kael'thas said, "Zakajz's shadow energy is out of control. This place will collapse soon. Let's go!"
Everyone returned to the upper tomb. Igrim walked onto the altar and began the ritual.
Minutes later, all the tir's fire converged in the center of the altar, and a two-handed warhammer appeared out of thin air, emitting a gentle yet powerful Holy Light energy.
"Silver Hand, Lord Tir's weapon—"
All the priests and paladins present knelt on one knee, their right hands clasped to their chests, showing the highest respect to the King of Order.
Kael'thas's gaze swept over these people, finally resting on Uther.
In his opinion, Uther was the most deserving of this divine artifact.
Indeed, the moment it appeared, as everyone watched in anticipation, the Silver Hand warhammer automatically floated in front of Uther.
"Me?" Uther was stunned as such immense fortune befell him.
"Yes, you."
Igrim was filled with relief: "Divine artifacts have spirits. The Silver Hand contains Lord Tir's will. Only those approved by Lord Tir can possess it. It chose you, which means you have Lord Tir's approval. You are the inheritor of Lord Tir's spirit and will!"
"Of course, it's you."
Kael'thas smiled, "You are the leader of the Silver Hand Knights, the first human paladin. This is the choice of the Holy Light, and also the choice of Tir's will in the unseen. From now on, you are the new guardian."
"It can only be you."
Alonsus Faol looked at him with pride: "The Holy Light has many profound meanings: Turalyon's protection, Tirion's retribution, Saidan's holiness, Gavinrad's passion—and what best aligns with Lord Tir's will is, of course, your justice!"
"It must be you!"
"Take it, Uther!"
"If you take it, it's as if all of us take it, the Silver Hand Knights take it!"
"If you don't take it soon, then I'm going to take it, alright?!"
Turalyon, Tirion, and others spoke up, with blessings, envy, and some disappointment, but no jealousy.
They were genuinely happy for Uther!
Uther no longer hesitated, grasping the hammer handle and raising the Silver Hand, feeling Tir's will.
Brilliant Holy Light erupted from the warhammer, dazzling and illuminating the entire Thoradin's Tomb. Shadows retreated wherever it reached, and the entire tomb was purified.
However, the deeper shadows still existed, still resisting the Silver Hand, and they were stronger.
Dying early is indeed not as good as dying late; a weapon is simply not as good as the main body.
Tir was truly dead, completely. The result of his self-destruction was that not even a corpse remained, and his invincible Silver Hand was also gone, leaving only his weapon, utterly unable to contend with Zakajz.
"Zakajz is, after all, a Titan Guardians-level existence. A single divine artifact cannot purify the shadows he left behind."
Kael'thas said, "Let's go up and gather everyone's strength to purify this area!"
The light of a single flashlight is limited; it can only cast a single beam in the darkness.
A bunch of flashlights is different; they are enough to dispel the darkness over a large area.
Everyone returned to the surface before Thoradin's Tomb collapsed. The Silver Hand in Uther's hand immediately attracted everyone's attention.
"Is that the legendary Silver Hand warhammer?"
"It's in Lord Uther's hand!"
"Lord Uther must be the one chosen by Lord Tir, chosen by the Holy Light! He is the spokesman of the Holy Light!"
All the priests and paladins bowed simultaneously, saluting Uther, or rather, the Silver Hand warhammer.
Hmm, the defender of truth and the oathbinder didn't get that treatment.
Divine artifacts and divine artifacts are indeed not the same—
Admiral Daelin, King Thoras, and others had complex expressions.
As Tir's successor, Uther's status was rising steadily. It wouldn't be long before he became the spokesman of the Holy Light for the human race, his prestige surely surpassing Alonsus Faol.
The faith in Holy Light was too widespread among the human race!
It could be said that in a few years, Uther would be an uncrowned king, his status and influence no less than theirs.
A new human giant had risen!
"Marshal Lothar, what's in your cloak?" Admiral Daelin asked curiously.
"The remains of an ancestor," Anduin Lothar replied.
Daelin said "Oh," knowing that these were to be taken back for burial. The dead always needed a resting place.
He wondered if there would be a make-up funeral later; he would definitely have to attend, and the contribution money couldn't be skimped.
"Let's begin," Igrim said. Over a thousand priests and paladins worked together to purify the entire area, completely annihilating Zakajz's will and dispelling the darkness that shrouded the entire valley.
However, shadow energy would not completely disappear; instead, it would continuously dissipate, merging into the air, into the earth, into living beings, coexisting with the Holy Light, becoming a part of human and High Elf life.
Where there is light, there is darkness; where there is Holy Light, there is shadow. This will never change.
"Lord Igrim, what are your plans next?" Kael'thas asked.
Igrim looked at Tavad of the Tirisfal Guardians: "What about you? Thoradin's Tomb has collapsed, and the divine artifact has been taken. No one will covet this place anymore. You are—free!"
Tavad said in a deep voice, "I want to join the Silver Hand Knights and undergo paladin training!"
Tens of thousands of years had passed; it was time for the Tirisfal Guardians to keep up with the times.
Uther had obtained the Silver Hand warhammer, and following Uther was equivalent to following Lord Tir.
The other Tirisfal Guardians all shared this thought.
Uther opened his arms, "The Silver Hand Knights welcome you!"
He looked at Igrim: "Lord, do you want to join the Silver Hand Knights? I am willing to cede the position of leader to you, or perhaps you could be an advisor?"
"Forget it."
Igrim refused, "I'm tired. After I help you rescue the Red Dragon Queen, I'll go into seclusion in Stormheim. The future is up to you."
Having fought his entire life, he truly wanted to enjoy himself now.
He used to fight for Tyr, for order, for the Light, and for justice. From now on, he wanted to live for himself.
Kael'thas smiled, "Then let's go to Silvermoon City first. You're idle anyway, and you can teach Liadrin and the other Paladins."
Igrim nodded, "Alright."
Although he hadn't officially taken any disciples, he had already come to regard Liadrin as his only disciple in tens of thousands of years.
After all, Liadrin had inherited the weapon he had used for tens of thousands of years.
He didn't want that sword and shield to be disgraced in Liadrin's hands, bringing shame upon him.
A few minutes later, Kael'thas arrived at Silvermoon City with Liadrin, Anduin Lothar, Igrim, and the others.
He immediately consulted the records and resurrected Emperor Thoradin.
He also had blacksmiths custom-make an epic set of Vrykul-style armor for him, which looked majestic.
"I feel my body brimming with power. I could punch a Faceless One apart with a single blow."
Thoradin moved his limbs, feeling as if he had been given a second life.
He had died, but he had become stronger, even stronger than when he was alive.
Kael'thas, a legendary mage, had personally resurrected him, consuming a considerable amount of Sunwell energy.
All that energy had transformed into Death power, reaching a legendary level.
And having been corrupted in Thoradin's Tomb for over two thousand years, the Shadow power within him had also reached a legendary level.
Although he had just been resurrected, his power level already surpassed most legends, even the current Theron Gorefiend and the future Four Horsemen were inferior to him.
Aside from the great filial son of Lordaeron, who was empowered by the Lich King, he was the strongest Death Knight in Azeroth.
"He's still missing a weapon."
Kael'thas looked him up and down.
As expected of the first Human Emperor, Vrykul blood flowed in his veins. He stood over two meters tall, mighty and imposing.
Anduin Lothar was already considered a Human strongman, half a head taller than Admiral Daelin, and Emperor Thoradin was half a head taller than him, practically a small giant.
If he were alive, he would be a younger version of Igrim.
"Ancestor, your body is filled with Shadow energy, just like Strom'kar. This sword should still be for you," Anduin Lothar offered Strom'kar, the warbreaker.
Emperor Thoradin waved his hand, "No! How can I take back something I've given away? Besides, I just want to travel around. I won't be fighting and killing, so I don't need it."
"Furthermore, you're not as good as me at self-preservation, and I'm even better than you at fighting. You need it more than I do!"
He had heard that this was the only direct descendant of the Seven Human Kingdoms, the sole heir.
If he died, the Arathi bloodline would end.
Kael'thas smiled, "Marshal Lothar, just keep it. I do know of a weapon that would be more suitable for Emperor Thoradin. We can go look for it together when we have time."
Emperor Thoradin laughed heartily, "It's a deal then, no backing out!"
Subsequently, Kael'thas summoned the best blacksmiths and enchanters to enchant Strom'kar, the warbreaker for a second time, thoroughly sealing Zakajz's lingering will.
"Kael'thas, I owe you a favor—no, two—no, four! Whatever you need in the future, just come to me!" Anduin Lothar solemnly pledged.
Rescuing Emperor Thoradin was one.
Resurrecting Emperor Thoradin as a Death Knight was one.
Helping him acquire Strom'kar, the warbreaker was one.
And enchanting this divine sword was another!
One man and one ghost departed.
Kael'thas looked at Flame Strike at his waist, rubbed his temples, feeling a bit of a headache.
Although this sword was also an artifact, it ranked at the bottom of all artifacts, not even as good as the current Strom'kar, the warbreaker.
His own strength ranked among the top few among all Humans and High Elves, yet his equipment was inferior even to Liadrin, Uther, and the Windrunner sisters. What a situation—
"Aside from Dragonwrath and the focusing iris, Mage artifacts all seem to be pretty weak," he said, feeling helpless.
Dragonwrath was in Khadgar's hands.
Khadgar was a younger mage from Dalaran, and in a sense, he was also his student, so it wouldn't be right to snatch it.
The Frost Mage artifact, Ebonchill, was in the hands of Eredar Lord Balnazzar. He could be in the Twisting Nether, on Argus, or any other world, making him impossible to find.
The Arcane Mage artifact, Aluneth, was in the hands of the Blue Dragons, entrusted to the Kirin Tor Council by Aegwynn, and then to the Blue Dragonflight by the Kirin Tor Council.
He couldn't just forcibly take it, or he would offend three major forces at once.
And with his current strength, he likely wouldn't be able to get it anyway.
The focusing iris, needless to say, was a Blue Dragonflight artifact, in Malygos's hands, utterly unobtainable.
Mage artifacts were already considered bottom-tier among all class artifacts, and he couldn't even get them. It was too tragic!
If he didn't like being a mage so much, he might even consider switching to a Warlock.
He knew exactly where Miss Xal'atath was, and that one ranked among the top of all artifacts.
"If all else fails, I'll just have to find a way to forge an artifact myself."
Of course, this was just a thought.
Artifacts weren't so easy to create, requiring very high standards for materials and techniques. It was a matter of fate.
"Prince, Master Krasus requests an audience." One day, Kael'thas was researching magic when a guard came to report.
"He's finally here! How long has it been? Krasus is so inefficient."
Kael'thas quickly said, "Bring him in!"
"Kael'thas."
Krasus looked dispirited and mentally exhausted, as if he had just been through a—no, many hardships, but his tired face couldn't hide his excitement, "They agreed! We'll go rescue Her Majesty the Queen now!"
"See, you're rushing again."
Kael'thas was very calm; it wasn't his wife who was being held captive, "Grim Batol is, after all, the lair of the Dragonmaw Orcs, and Nekros has the demon soul. He's not so easy to deal with. We should first formulate a complete plan."
"You're right, I was too impatient."
Krasus always listened to advice and asked, "You must already have a detailed plan, right? Tell me about it."
Kael'thas said, "Actually, the most important thing is Deathwing. He must be constantly watching Grim Batol, and no movement can escape his notice. As soon as we make a move, he will definitely intervene, and only the Dragon Aspects can stop him."
Krasus nodded, "That's not a problem. Ysera, Malygos, and Nozdormu have already gone to Grim Batol and are hiding nearby. As soon as Deathwing appears, they will tie him down. However, you must rescue Her Majesty the Queen and destroy the demon soul as quickly as possible, because they can't hold out for long."
He was a little nervous, "Do you really have a way to destroy the demon soul?"
Kael'thas smiled, "Of course, I found a weapon made from Deathwing's scales."
Deathwing's scales?
Krasus was stunned for a moment, then clapped his hands and said, "Brilliant, why didn't I think of it? The demon soul was created by Deathwing, and only he can destroy it, and his power is contained in his scales!"
He regretted, "I should have thought of it sooner! If I had thought of it sooner—"
"It wouldn't have mattered even if you had thought of it sooner. Where would you find Deathwing's scales? So it's not your fault," Kael'thas comforted.
Deathwing is a dragon, not a snake, so he doesn't shed his skin. His scales are not that easy to find.
Perhaps there are some in the Highmountain lair, but it's too dangerous. Entering might lead to being discovered by Deathwing, and an encounter would be certain death.
"So there's only one problem left: infiltrate Grim Batol, kill Nekros, and seize the demon soul."
Krasus asked, "How are the personnel selections coming along?"
Kael'thas said, "Kurdran is one. He's very familiar with Grim Batol and can help us infiltrate secretly. Then there's me, Vereesa, Liadrin, and Lanathel."
A mage, a hunter, a paladin, a warrior, plus a Gryphon Rider who is a shaman-warrior hybrid. With a tank, a healer, DPS, melee, and ranged, and all of them legendary professionals with legendary weapons.
Such a team could challenge Molten Core, let alone a mere Grim Batol?
Actually, he even wanted to bring Alleria and Sylvanas.
However, the war in Lordaeron was currently intense, and many Dragon Riders had been dispatched there, including two ancient Red Dragons over ten thousand years old.
Seeing that they couldn't break through Lordaeron's magical barrier, the Horde army's strategy changed. They began to find ways to break out, retreat to the Khaz Modan subcontinent, accumulate strength, and then attack again.
The northern mountains were guarded by the Lordaeron army, the southern seas were occupied by the Kul Tiras fleet, and Thoradin's Wall in the east was easy to defend but difficult to attack.
The only easy breakthrough was Silverpine Forest.
Quel'Thalas, Gilneas, Lordaeron, Stormwind Kingdom, Dalaran—the Alliance nations had a total of a hundred thousand troops pouring into Silverpine Forest, engaging in a fierce battle with the Horde.
Under these circumstances, the Windrunner sisters, as the main and vice commanders of the expeditionary force, naturally had to return to the battlefield to personally command, leaving them unavailable.
Krasus frowned, "Vereesa? Liadrin? Lanathel? Who are they, and what are their strengths?"
He knew nothing about the middle and lower ranks of mortal kingdoms.
In all of Quel'Thalas, he only knew Anasterian, Kael'thas, the Chief Archmage, the Chief High Priest, and a few others. He hadn't even heard of Alleria or Sylvanas, let alone anyone else.
"You'll know when you see them."
Ten minutes later, the three female High Elves arrived at the Prince's palace, and Krasus's eyes instantly lit up.
"Four artifacts?"
"Quel'Thalas actually has so many artifacts?"
Even the Blue Dragonflight didn't have this many!
And such precious and rare artifacts were given to three ordinary young women. Wasn't that too extravagant?
"How about it, is their strength enough?" Kael'thas asked.
"Enough, of course enough!"
Artifacts are artifacts after all; even if these three young women themselves weren't exceptional, they could still display the strength of great professionals.
Coupled with Kael'thas, a legendary mage no less powerful than himself, leading the team, dealing with a mere Orc Warlock would be a piece of cake.
"Kael'thas, I'll go ahead. See you at Grim Batol."
Krasus teleported away.
Kael'thas took the three female High Elves to Lordaeron to rendezvous with Kurdran, then teleported to the High Elf expeditionary camp in the eastern Arathi Highlands.
"Your Highness, what are we doing here? Couldn't we just fly there on Gryphons?" Kurdran asked, puzzled.
Kael'thas said, "Grim Batol is the Dragonmaw Clan's lair, heavily defended, and there are certainly Dragon Riders patrolling day and night. Gryphons can't fly over it. We need to change our mode of transportation."
The five entered the camp and met Ranger-Lord Halduron Brightwing.
"Greetings, Highlord."
He greeted them, then reported to Kael'thas, "Your Highness, the items you requested have been transported from Silvermoon City. I'll take you there."
Kael'thas asked, "How are things here?"
Halduron quickly replied, "During this time, my subordinates have been clearing out the Horde. Now, there are no traces of the Horde within a hundred kilometers. We have built ten camps along the mountains."
He glanced at Kurdran and lowered his voice, "King Thoras hasn't inquired, perhaps he's too busy, or perhaps he tacitly agrees to us controlling this area. However, I'm worried that after the war, he will drive us away."
The Arathi Highlands have historically been an inseparable part of Stromgarde. Both emotionally and practically, King Thoras must reclaim it; otherwise, he cannot account to his people.
But he didn't want it to be reclaimed.
The more territory he conquered, the more land he would possess.
This was the Prince's promise, a great opportunity for the Brightwing family to soar, and he absolutely could not give it up.
Kael'thas said, "Do what you need to do. We'll discuss post-war matters after the war. As long as there's enough benefit, nothing is insurmountable."
The group arrived deep within the camp and saw five Goblin Airships.
Kurdran slapped his head, "Why didn't I think of it! Traveling to Grim Batol by Goblin Airship, the Dragonmaw Clan definitely won't attack us. Those damned green-skinned Orcs are so stupid!"
Halduron waved his hand, and several captured Goblins, with their heads bowed, walked over to teach them how to operate the Goblin Airship.
It wasn't difficult.
After a brief rest, the five flew the Goblin Airship over the Arathi Highlands, across the narrow strait, over the swampy wetlands,
and arrived above Grim Batol.
"What a magnificent city, even grander than Aerie Peak!"
Kael'thas looked down and saw a city embedded within a massive mountain, with huge walls and gates towering on the mountainside, ancient and weathered.
"Of course!"
"Aerie Peak is only our second city built after our migration; Grim Batol is our eternal capital!"
Kurdran said proudly, "Our ancestors hollowed out the entire mountain, taking decades to build this city. It's larger than Lordaeron, sturdier than Dalaran, and—no worse than Silvermoon City and Ironforge!"
"You really know how to put things in perspective," Kael'thas said. "Highlord, where do we enter Grim Batol?"
Like Ironforge, Grim Batol is entirely within the mountain, with only one entrance: the main gate.
The gate is closed most of the time and heavily guarded. Anyone entering would be subjected to layers of scrutiny, and there are many spellcasters among the guards.
Trying to sneak in would be too difficult.
However, such a massive city couldn't be strictly guarded everywhere, nor could it truly have only one connection to the outside world. At the very least, there must be drainage channels and ventilation shafts; otherwise, the people inside would surely suffocate and be overwhelmed by stench?
Kurdran patted his chest, "Don't worry, leave it to me. No one in this world knows Grim Batol better than I do. I've explored every part of this mountain. Follow me!"