"Arthas, what about Strom'kar? Who do you think is suitable to wield this sword?"
At a Silver Hand gathering, the Arch-Knights who had emerged from Tir's Tomb with Arthas recalled the divine sword.
Arthas could only smile bitterly. Although he had promised King Thoradin to find a new master for Strom'kar, because of Muradin's final blow, the sword had pierced Zakas's core.
Blood containing infinite energy had almost covered the entire blade, and coupled with the tremors caused by Zakas's soul being stripped away, Strom'kar was now a Void locator.
While this also enhanced its power, the consequence was that almost no one could use this weapon; once held, one would hear the endless whispers of the Old Gods.
Those with weak wills would instantly become followers of the Old Gods, while even those with strong wills would succumb to such daily whispers.
"That weapon is not yet suitable to appear in the mortal world. Its side effects already outweigh its power," Arthas said, draining his wine glass. "I've already had someone seal it away, lest its endless whispers drive others mad."
Fortunately, Zakas was not an Ancient God; he was merely a powerful subordinate of an Ancient God. Once his blood dried, the corrupting influence should significantly weaken.
At that time, the weapon's power would not be greatly diminished, yet it could be held and wielded by people. Otherwise, Strom'kar would forever remain in the sealing chamber, serving as mere decoration.
"Indeed, when we retrieved Strom'kar from that monster's body, just holding it for a moment sent shivers down my spine. I can't imagine what the outcome would be fighting with such a sword."
Mograine described their experience of retrieving Strom'kar, still shaken.
"Where did these monsters come from? They kept talking about Old Gods and the Void. I've never heard of such evil creatures."
Tirion sighed with some emotion. He had thought the Orcish Wars was brutal and dark enough, but now he realized his understanding of this world was far from complete.
Arthas also appropriately explained some knowledge about the Old Gods, because the threats facing this planet were essentially two-fold: one was the Burning Legion, and the other was the Old Gods.
"They are the source and seed of corruption, but a long, long time ago, perhaps at the dawn of creation, they were defeated and sealed away by the Titans and the Guardians they created. Zakas was a terrifying and dark creature, but he was merely an insignificant member of the Old Gods' vast army."
Dathrohan mumbled while listening to Arthas, "More seals... Can't these Old Gods just be killed directly? Why leave these scourges behind?"
"These are all matters that have become legends and myths. Who knows what truly happened back then?"
Arthas spread his hands, answering Dathrohan's question.
However, he himself couldn't quite understand it. If the Titans' power was too great to simultaneously eradicate the Old Gods and prevent Azeroth from being harmed, then after the lesson of Y'Shaarj, they chose to seal the Old Gods.
But the Guardians' size was utterly insignificant compared to Azeroth, and he didn't know why Old Gods who could be killed by life on Azeroth couldn't be dealt with by the Guardians.
However, this question held little meaning now, as the Guardians were currently considered completely wiped out.
The Guardians of Ulduar were all deceived by Loken, the High Guardian Lei Deng was in self-imposed isolation, Odin was forced into isolation, and only Archaedas and Ironaya remained, completely helpless against the Old Gods' endless army.
To contend with the threat of the Old Gods, they still had to rely on other life forms on Azeroth. Arthas wasn't excited by merely eliminating one K'thir; on the contrary, the power this K'thir displayed gave Arthas a new understanding of the Old Gods' strength.
"In short, many evil forces in this world are actually manipulated by the Old Gods, and the enemies in the Burning Steppes are inextricably linked to the Old Gods."
Arthas said, "In about a month, we will launch a surprise attack on the Searing Gorge, aiming to capture it as quickly as possible to serve as our stronghold for conquering Blackrock Mountain."
"Hey, a surprise attack! Then you'll definitely need an elite unit, Prince. If you need anything, just call on us old bones. We also hope to contribute more to the Alliance before we're too old to move."
The Paladins exchanged smiles. Having endured countless battles, they had long cast aside thoughts of life and death and feared no enemy.
"I think you won't have a chance to participate in this battle," Arthas said with a slight chuckle, placing his empty wine glass on the table.
"It's not our turn to act?" The Paladins were stunned, not expecting such a reply from Arthas.
"You are all heroes of the Alliance, who have fought your entire lives for the Alliance's interests and survival, accumulating countless merits and endless glory... Even besides all that, you are my closest comrades and mentors, my seniors on the path of the Holy Light.
As a member of the Silver Hand Knights, I've long had such an idea. After defeating Zakas, I believe it's time for the Silver Hand to make a change."
The Arch-Knights of the Silver Hand looked at each other, seemingly unable to grasp what Arthas intended to do, only Uther's expression remained calm.
"I think it would be better for Master Uther to explain this point."
Arthas looked at Uther, who nodded slightly and said to his colleagues, "After becoming the wielder of the Silver Hand, a portion of Tyr's power infused my body. Although it was only an insignificant part, it completely changed my body.
My originally aging body has returned to its youthful state. I can clearly feel that my lifespan has likely surpassed the human limit."
The Paladins looked surprised, yet showed no jealousy or regret; instead, they congratulated Uther with great joy, "That's truly wonderful! As long as you are with the Knights, it will surely develop even better."
"This is actually not the main point," Uther shook his head. He continued, "If only my lifespan were extended, with more opportunities to eradicate evil, it wouldn't mean much, because the strength of one person is always weak—but, Arthas and I have reverse-engineered the Holy Light power of the Silver Hand and replicated a blessing.
It is a key... a key where danger and opportunity coexist. It will grant followers of the Holy Light a longer life and physique!"
Uther's words were like a clap of thunder, striking the hearts of Tirion and the others. Not only were they not happy, but they frowned, clearly understanding what such power implied.
The artifact Silver Hand could not be replicated. If only the master of the Silver Hand could possess longevity, that would not be a bad thing; on the contrary, it would add considerable depth to the Alliance.
But the Holy Light blessing that Uther and Arthas had deduced had a completely different meaning. Since Uther told them, it meant that this blessing had the ability to be replicated and bestowed upon others.
This also meant that short-lived humans now had the opportunity for longevity. Such temptation could greatly magnify the dark side of human nature, and even within the Silver Hand Knights, there could be users with ill intentions.
"Indeed, just as you imagine, although this blessing is extremely difficult, it does have the potential for inheritance, and this is precisely what Arthas and I are concerned about."
Uther sighed. As Paladins, they would not maliciously speculate on the ill intentions contained within others' hearts, but they also could not ignore the darkness of human nature.
Humans are not born Holy Spirits; they will more or less possess an inner dark side. However, everyone present understood that such power could not be forever buried for this reason.
The power itself is not the problem; it is always because of the wielder of the power. If the Silver Hand Knights truly master this blessing, then they must consider whether they have the ability to protect the correctness of this blessing.
Otherwise, if desires were allowed to grow infinitely with extended lifespans, humans might become the next Night Elves.
Arthas knew very well that the opposite of Holy Light was endless shadow, and Holy Light was not an inexhaustible power; at least, it needed time to gather and recover.
Where there is light, there is always darkness. The more Holy Light people utilize, the more room there is for shadow to breed.
Coupled with the Old Gods on Azeroth, like ticking time bombs, the consequence of overusing Holy Light might not be much better than overusing Arcane.
The latter attracts the Burning Legion, while the former amplifies the influence of the Void.
After listening to Uther, the other four Paladins also sighed deeply. Tirion's eyes were filled with complex emotions. "This news is indeed somewhat shocking. I'm afraid we'll need some time to digest it."
"The blessing of Holy Light is not a bad thing. It can preserve the Silver Hand's cutting-edge strength for longer and give humanity the power to endure," Gavinrad said.
"But who can guarantee that those who receive this blessing will not gradually forget their original intentions and always hold themselves to the standards of a Paladin of the Silver Hand?" Dathrohan sighed with emotion. As one of the leaders of the Knights and a frequent drill instructor for new recruits, he had seen many different kinds of people.
Mograine remained silent, only rubbing his thumb against his wine glass, clearly indicating his inner struggle.
Arthas glanced at the somewhat somber private banquet and said, "Don't be so pessimistic. At least, if this blessing can be utilized well, it will be a powerful aid in our fight against the enemy.
Since those granted the blessing need to be strictly selected, why don't we establish an organization similar to Tyr's Guard? They guard Tyr's Tomb and commemorate this great Guardian. We will guard this blessing originating from Tyr, and inherit his spirit and power?
Only those selected into this organization can truly become eternal Guardians of the Alliance and Azeroth, bearing the grace and responsibility of the Holy Light.
Both Knights of the Silver Hand and members of this organization, let the Silver Hand become the soil for this great endeavor, nurturing more great heroes."
"That's a good suggestion, but how to select members is a problem. If it's done manually, I think there will always be oversights, and they will increase over time. We must have a strictly adhered-to standard."
The others pondered for a while, acknowledging Arthas's proposal as a preliminary idea, but how to select members became an issue. Compared to the Silver Hand's tenets and oaths, they believed that becoming a blessed member should require more rigorous methods and standards.
"Perhaps it's time to bring that out," Uther said, drawing everyone's attention.
"Are we opening that tomb so soon?" Tirion hesitated. "After all, it's a resting place for heroes. Is it perhaps a bit... presumptuous to disturb it?"
"That is the most sacred place we can find, not even the Holy Light Cathedral can compare to it."
"The temple should also be nearing completion. It's time for the Ancient Kings' Seal and the altar to see the light of day again," Uther said in a deep voice, having made up his mind.
The Paladins looked at each other for a moment, then spoke in unison.
"If you are certain, we have no objections."
...
"Where are these Naga and Murlocs coming from?" Sylvanas asked, rubbing her brow with a weary expression as she looked at a stretch of red-marked coastline.
The coast of Quel'Thalas had been harassed by Naga and Murlocs for over a week. Although their numbers were not large, they appeared almost everywhere along Quel'Thalas's long coastline.
The ranger corps was already stretched thin, having to guard against Troll invasions on one side and repel Naga and Murlocs on the other. This period had left Sylvanas physically and mentally exhausted.
Moreover, the Naga's offensive wasn't particularly intense. After all, with the Bandinoriel Barrier in place, their spellcasters would be at a great disadvantage when entering the barrier. So, those cunning Naga had been constantly patrolling the coast, causing a lot of trouble for the coastal villages.
As usual, Sylvanas submitted a routine report to Silvermoon City, hoping for assistance, but she had long known it was merely a formality and that not a single reinforcement would emerge from Silvermoon City.
The ranger corps alone could barely hold off the Naga and Murlocs. Occasionally, a few would slip inland, but they were unlikely to pose a threat to High Elf settlements.
Furthermore, such small-scale harassment made Sylvanas embarrassed to request aid from the Alliance again. If they couldn't even handle these Naga, the High Elf would lose too much face and might even be ridiculed within the Alliance in the future.
So, she could only grit her teeth and persist, engaging in meaningless tug-of-war with the Naga and Murlocs every day.
However, not long after Sylvanas prepared to spend a great deal of time and energy settling scores with the Naga, an urgent magical letter from Silvermoon City left her utterly astonished.