After Lyral was struck down by Arthas, he immediately tried to stand up, but the giant hammer condensed from Holy Light was much heavier than he had imagined, and this giant hammer continuously struck his body, each blow bringing him more severe injuries than before.
Arthas's face was indifferent as he manipulated the Holy Light hammer to repeatedly smash down. Seeing the unfavorable situation, the worgen tried to help Lyral, but they were all blocked by the flying Frostmourne.
In front of Arthas's power, Lyral, infused with a portion of Goldrinn's wild power, was like an underdeveloped wolf cub, pressed to the ground and repeatedly trampled.
Goldrinn's power made Lyral virtually invulnerable, with skin like steel and bones like iron, but Arthas's Holy Light did not bother with reasoning, unceremoniously crushing all of his advantages completely.
No matter how tough a body, it could not withstand such heavy blows. After the overflowing divine light splashed in front of Arthas for a while, all of Lyral's fur drooped, and the entire wolf looked half-dead.
Although he was still protected by the moon god scythe's power, this was not Lyral's own strength after all. His eyes, fixed on Arthas, were filled with terror.
He had once known no fear, otherwise he wouldn't have become the untamed alpha wolf, but under Arthas's "torment," he suddenly realized that his every move seemed to have been anticipated by the human in front of him.
Whether it was his use of the moon god scythe's power, or summoning the wolf pack to attack Gilneas, even his confident wolf god power was directly overwhelmed by Arthas.
The moonlight cast Arthas's shadow over Lyral, making the druid, who once believed he possessed unimaginable power over the wolf pack, feel a sense of "how could I have such a ridiculous idea."
But Lyral was, after all, an old fellow who had lived for countless centuries. He quickly recovered from the blow Arthas had dealt him, though it was merely a realization. He had already accepted reality: his power was far inferior to Arthas's.
It wasn't that he was too weak; it was that Arthas was too strong.
That strange longsword, and the weapon that changed forms at will in Arthas's hand, were things that even Lyral, a Night Elf, had rarely seen.
Lyral was filled with regret, not regretting becoming a worgen, but regretting attacking Arthas's group.
If he had let the worgen hold off Arthas while he led the remaining main force to attack Gilneas, perhaps the entire Gilneas Peninsula would have already fallen by now. Even if Arthas's personal strength exceeded Lyral's expectations, it would have been too late to remedy the situation.
However, it was precisely this seemingly unproblematic attack that caused Lyral's plan to fail completely.
Arthas waved his five fingers, and the Holy Light hammer shattered into fragments, then instantly reformed into several golden chains, binding Lyral tightly. The golden chain tips even pierced his collarbone, completely stripping him of his ability to resist.
Pulling on the chains, Arthas dragged Lyral up from the ground. After he stood him in place, the surrounding worgen cowered, baring their teeth and growling, but dared not approach.
Firstly, because of Lyral's defeat, the alpha wolf's failure made the wolf pack wary. Secondly, because Velinde had already obtained the scythe and was trying to straighten out the worgen's minds.
With a metallic clang, the blade of Frostmourne rested against Lyral's jaw. Arthas gripped the hilt, looking calmly at Lyral, who seemed somewhat lost. "Human… why are you so powerful?"
Arthas said nothing, but the movement of Frostmourne made Lyral's wolf fur instantly bristle—he felt something tearing at his soul!
His wolf eyes stared intently at Arthas, filled with disbelief. Although he was not a user of Holy Light and was unfamiliar with this power, the power of Holy Light could never be so dark and obscure. This did not conform to the basic composition of energy.
Lyral understood the power that was tearing at his soul; he had even personally witnessed someone wielding similar power.
It was the source of everything, and the root of his hatred: the dark magic used by the satyrs.
"What do you want to do?!" Lyral began to struggle violently. He could accept his defeat and death, but he did not want his soul to become nourishment for dark magic.
But at this moment, Lyral discovered that the inconspicuous, shallow sword wounds on his body were emitting a strange power, separating his soul from his body. And it was precisely this cold, dark energy that had prevented Lyral from truly unleashing Goldrinn's power.
"Ho ho ho—" Lyral let out a hoarse growl, his expression becoming ferocious and terrifying, clearly enduring immense pain.
However, Arthas paid no heed, continuing the soul extraction ritual.
Just then, a blue light flashed, and Lyral collapsed to the ground as if exhausted. This time, he truly had no strength left, not even to move a finger, and his vision darkened.
The blade of Frostmourne shifted slightly. Arthas withdrew his longsword, and in his sight, a ghostly ice-blue wolf appeared.
"He has become like this, do you still wish to help him?"
Arthas sheathed Frostmourne at his waist, and the light of dawn transformed into a stream of metal, forming a Holy Relic on the other side. He was not angry or displeased that his actions had been interrupted; he merely asked the blue wolf spirit a question.
The blue giant wolf glanced at Lyral, who lay on the ground like a dead dog, and imperceptibly shook his head. He then continued to look at Arthas. "I do not wish to save him. He is no longer the Lyral of yesteryear."
"Who knows," Arthas said noncommittally, not particularly bothered by it. "So, do you still want to exchange a few blows with me?"
"No."
The giant wolf shook his head. Logically, he would not fear a human, as most people couldn't even attack his ethereal form, but he knew that the human in front of him was different. The sword in his hand made him feel an instinctive repulsion and fear.
"But may I please ask you to return the cursed wolf god soul? You should not need that cursed power." The blue giant wolf appeared very humble. He did not want to provoke such a terrifying enemy for himself.
"No, at least not for now." Arthas concisely refused the giant wolf's request.
The giant wolf's body lowered slightly, unsure if he intended to plead or attack. "This power is cursed; it will only create another tragedy like Lyral. Please do not be as deluded as Lyral."
"I am not like that bewitched druid, and furthermore, your deity may not need this power."
Arthas's words momentarily stunned the giant wolf. He stared at Arthas and asked, "Why do you say that?"
"Goldrinn isn't dead. Perhaps he's still watching us now, we just don't know it," Arthas had no particular feelings about the Wild Gods who were close to the Elven druids. He didn't want to lose allies like the Night Elves by being penny-wise and pound-foolish.
However, this particular power of Goldrinn was very special. The moon god scythe was composed of a staff blessed by Elune and Goldrinn's tooth. Two items with divine properties formed this incredibly powerful scythe.
Yet, when this scythe caused calamity among the elves, the two deities who granted it power did not appear.
If Elune wouldn't descend a miracle for this, then so be it, but Goldrinn didn't perish in the battle against the Burning Legion. If he had truly perished, this scythe might not possess its current power.
This Wild God, who protected the wilds of Azeroth and also the Emerald Dream, not only did not stop his followers from making such a grave mistake, but instead silently allowed the worgen to grow stronger.
Perhaps the demise of his physical body weakened Goldrinn's power somewhat, but he was still the mighty White Wolf God, one of the most powerful Wild Gods on Azeroth. Even the Twilight's Hammer, backed by the Old Gods, had no great way to deal with this Wild God.
Compared to other deities who were easily imprisoned or killed, Goldrinn was quite formidable, so much so that the cultists' ultimate solution was to use an incarnation of Goldrinn's negative emotions to "replace" the wolf god.
The Twilight's Hammer's approach clearly illustrated the wolf god's power; they couldn't directly eliminate this powerful Wild God, so they could only choose to use a "similar" imposter to take Goldrinn's place.
The final result, of course, was that the imposter and those cultists were torn to shreds in Goldrinn's wrath.
Such a Wild God, even after his physical demise, still possessed numerous ways to influence reality and the Emerald Dream. However, Goldrinn seemed to ignore the matter of the moon god scythe.
And Arthas, who possessed the power to control souls, "coincidentally" discovered the problem: the divine power contained within the moon god scythe, compared to genuine wild power, was mixed with a lot of negative emotions.
For Wild Gods, beings with a mysterious connection between soul and body, their emotions could very realistically affect reality. That is to say, negative emotions and thoughts could make originally normal power become violent and unstable.
Arthas speculated that the wolf god power within this scythe was probably the undesirable parts that Goldrinn intentionally separated from his own body to avoid being influenced by them.
But somehow, this part of the power accumulated in one of Goldrinn's teeth, and this tooth became a sacred relic for the druids.
Later, Lyral used this tooth to form the moon god scythe. However, although the tooth contained genuine Goldrinn's power, it was much more violent and difficult to control than a normal wolf god's blessing.
Because it originated from his own issues, Goldrinn found it difficult to resolve. Moreover, after the war with the Burning Legion, having lost his physical body, he was more or less affected in his power and influence, so this outcome is not inexplicable.
"So, after knowing all this, do you still insist on returning this part of the power to your deity ?"