The battle between Eldar and the Gloomy Withered Willow ended with the willow's narrow victory. After luring Eldar into overextending, it struck back with a condensed dark energy sphere, shattering his assault—but at the cost of its own protective aura. Now weakened, it could only muster faint attacks with withering mist and leaf blades. Even so, the injured Eldar and his disciples were forced into retreat.
Just then, a surge of thunderous energy erupted from another direction—violet-gold lightning piercing the sky.
Hidden within the rocks, Alaric was pale and drenched in sweat. The Northrend Meteor-Iron Thunderblade hovered above him, crackling with blue-purple arcs of electricity. This Spirit-Forging artifact consumes too much power. I don't have enough!
It was his only chance. Eldar had weakened the willow; if Alaric didn't act now, it would recover. Desperate, he drew out the Sky Thunder Jade, attempting to channel its energy.
The pure, massive surge of lightning nearly electrocuted him on the spot. Energy overflowed from his pores, threatening to tear him apart. Pushing the Nine Heavens Thunder Canon to its limit, he forced the power into the Thunderblade.
He became a conduit—linking the jade and the sword. The blade blazed with light, its energy condensing into a pure white luminous sword. At its tip gathered a basketball-sized sphere of lightning, radiating devastating pressure.
The display caught everyone's attention—the fleeing Eldar, the terrified villagers, even the weakened willow. Before any could react, Alaric unleashed the strike: "Northrend Meteor-Iron Thunderblade—Judgment of Thunder!"
A brilliant arc of lightning tore across the sky, striking the willow. The withering mist and leaf blades offered no resistance—disintegrating on contact. Branches and trunk shattered like porcelain, collapsing into charcoal fragments.
Exhausted, heart still numb from energy overload, Alaric barely remained standing. But then he stiffened—a faint white glow emerged from the remains.
It was an elf maiden, barefoot and dressed in snow-white robes. Her beauty surpassed even Elara's, yet Alaric felt only cold dread.
Her silver-white hair flowed freely as her gaze locked onto him. A low, husky voice echoed in his mind: "My name is Lirael. Remember it—for I will remember you." Then she vanished.
Alaric sighed grimly. Being remembered by a being like her was anything but good.
Around him, the villagers knelt in tearful gratitude. Eldar's group watched from a distance. "He took advantage of our fight!" Kael complained.
Eldar shook his head. "That lightning strike surpassed my full strength. His power is unfathomable."
As they debated returning to thank him, Alaric released a faint threatening aura. Sensing the warning, Eldar's group chose to withdraw.
Alaric finally relaxed. Now—for my first disciple.
Changing into his lightning-patterned robes, he returned to the village chief's courtyard, sitting calmly with the Thunderblade across his knees.
When the chief and Thor entered with the villagers, they froze at the sight. Thor was the first to understand. "Lord Alaric… Was it you?"
Alaric smiled faintly, offering no direct answer. The villagers remembered the thunder amulet he had given Thor and the miraculous lightning that saved them. They dropped to their knees in gratitude.
Alaric maintained his composed demeanor, though his eyes never left Thor. The village chief approached hesitantly, glancing between the two.
Inside, Alaric's mind was pleading: Thor, say yes. Become my first disciple.
✅ SYSTEM:
Faction Points: 250
New Objective: Formalize recruitment of [Thor Stone] as first personal disciple.
Note: Entity [Lirael] has registered awareness of host. Threat level: Unknown. Proceed with caution.