Light's Dawn of Azeroth

Chapter 104: 3. Diakam in Garona's Eyes and Garona in the Sage's Eyes

"We have found the location of the Dominant Orb and will soon be able to free your bound mind. Hold on, and be as strong as you were when you were little."

Outside the prison wagon, Lelan handed a piece of Draenei pastry to Garona, who was curled up in front of her. She encouraged her child as usual, but Garona did not respond.

The Orc Assassin's condition is visibly bad!
It seemed that the closer she got to the Orb of Domination, the more troubled her mind became. She huddled in the corner of the prison cart, holding the elemental beads that Lantresor had given her before. This thing could help the swordsman control his reason in anger and allow them to maintain the warrior's most perfect state of "fatal calm" for a long time. Therefore, it was also helpful for mentally controlled individuals like Garona.

But unfortunately, an elemental bead can only prevent Garona from losing control. It is not so easy to get rid of the eerie ghost whispers implanted in her mind by Gul'dan.

"Don't come near me!"

When Leilan wanted to wipe the sweat from Garona's forehead, a suppressed hoarse voice sounded, and Leilan's hand was pushed away with a wave of fingers.

The orc's movements were rough, but he was clearly suppressing the destructive desire surging in his body.

She was trying hard not to hurt Leland.

This situation made the Arcanist feel extremely distressed. She had raised Garona since she was a child and had already formed an affection for her. Seeing the child in so much pain, in addition to hatred for Gul'dan and the Shadow Council, she also wished she could take their place.

"Holy Light, why do you allow such a painful fate to befall my child?"

Leland grabbed the handkerchief in his hand and couldn't help but say something.

She knew that this was not the fault of the Holy Light.

Orcs have no tradition of believing in the Holy Light, so the blessings of the Original Light hardly shine upon them. Even if the Holy Light cherishes all life, it cannot send down thunderbolts of light to kill all the bad guys every time something bad happens.

At least in the power system of the Azeroth universe, the Force does not operate in such a rough and humane way.

"If the Holy Light heard your complaints, it would surely be secretly hurt. After all, He has done His utmost to send His followers to rescue this child from the claws of darkness before Garona's fate fell into an even darker despair."

Diakum's voice rang out behind Lelan. The saint placed his warm hand on the arcanist's shoulder and whispered:

"Go, take a break. I'll talk to this child. She needs help now, but your understanding of the arcane arts is not enough to counteract Gul'dan's curse, so you can't help her."

"So, you think I'm useless, too, don't you, Uncle?"

Lelan looked at the Sentinel and said softly:

"I keep saying I want to find a way for orcs and draenei to coexist peacefully, but I've spent two hundred years accomplishing less than you've accomplished in a month. Compared to you, I'm nothing but a coward who boasts big words, thinking I'm powerful but can't even protect my own children."

Dick shook his head at these words of self-blame and weakness, and said:
"But if it weren't for your travels and accumulation over the past two hundred years, it wouldn't have been so easy for me to gain the goodwill of Mother Gaia and Lady Draka. It was precisely because they had come into contact with you that they believed that the Draenei were not a warlike race.

Without this premise, even if I tried harder, it would be difficult for me to cooperate with them to resolve the dilemma of Oshu'gun so smoothly.

All the greatness you see cannot be attributed to one individual, child. It is the result of the joint efforts of many people. History is not entirely written by heroes. People like you who silently contribute are also part of it.

As for Garona."

Dick looked at the painful figure huddled in the prison van. He paused and said:
“Fate always imposes various hardships on individuals destined to shoulder heavy responsibilities, in order to ensure that capable people do not waste their talents.

Your child is an individual valued by fate, Leland. Everything she endures now will lay the foundation for an extraordinary life in the future. Although we cannot sing the praises of simple suffering, I always believe that without these pains, it would be difficult to shape a transcendent personality.

Of course, I am not educating you as an elder.

I just want to tell you not to carry responsibilities that do not belong to you and the mistakes of others on your shoulders. Doing so proves that you are a kind person, but kind people should not suffer from mental torture and interrogation because of this. Kind people should be treated kindly by the world.

It was Gul'dan who caused this suffering.

What we need to do is make that bad guy pay for all these tragedies with his blood."

“You are a truly remarkable preacher.”

Leland sighed and said:
"You can see through my inner conflict in just a few words, but I always think that if I could protect Garona when danger came that day, perhaps she would not have suffered such pain.

It's a lesson, uncle, and I've learned from it.

You are right. My arcane magic is still no match for the warlocks' foul spells. I must delve deeper into the arcane arts to prevent Garona's tragedy from happening to others. But how should Garona be accommodated while we fight in the town of Mogol?

We can’t just leave her here alone.”

"I'll take care of this. Go get some rest. We're about to set off. The target you're facing this time is very dangerous, so make sure you're fully prepared."

Dick persuaded Leland to leave. He stood outside the prison van and swung his thick tail. Amid the clashing sound of the golden tail sleeve, the Sentinel stared at the curled up Garona and said:
"What do you want Gul'dan to do now?"

"Kill you!"

Garona lowered her head and said in a hoarse voice:
"His voice rolled in my mind. He told me to seize every opportunity to harm you, using poison, daggers, and claws, just like what he asked me to do in the past days and nights. He already knew my location, and he also knew you through my perspective.

Especially in your position, saint.

I told my mother not to look for the Orb of Domination. Gul'dan turned it into a trap.

The more you don't give up this scourge of mine, the closer you get to the trap. My mother couldn't bring herself to do it. In my memory, she was such a kind person. I traveled with her in the wilderness of Gorgrond, and even if we encountered iguanas blocking our way, she would not take the initiative to hurt them.

She is the most perfect kind person.
But you can!

You are an iron-blooded commander.

You know very well that the risk of saving me is far greater than the benefits of killing me here. Please do it and free me from this dark fate. I don't want to implicate anyone again, and I don't want to go back to the darkness and take other people's lives at will for my own survival.

That's not what my mother taught me, but Gul'dan insisted on making me like that!
He enjoyed my pain and took pleasure in it.”

Facing Garona's request, Diakum remained expressionless. He said:

“I once vowed to fight against fate, and I have always done so. But right before my eyes, a soul trapped in a dark fate is struggling, and you are asking me to give up this rescue. You are asking me to abandon my morality and oath.

Child, what I am about to do has nothing to do with you, the 'rescue'!
This is a battle between me and fate.

You are just one link in my struggle with it, so when faced with your request to commit suicide through the hands of others, I can only tell you that I refuse! "

"."

Garona fell silent.

After a few seconds, the painful orc raised his head and looked at Dick. His large Draenei eyes were filled with vigilance and resistance. He looked at Diakam, as if trying to find even a trace of insincerity on the face of this tall saint.

but no.

Diakum's expression was calm, and there was no burden or pressure in his eyes. He faced Garona's scrutiny calmly, which made the assassin shaped by the darkness grit his teeth.

she says:

"But are you truly as holy and noble as you claim? Do you truly treat every soul equally? Isn't it because I'm someone 'valued by fate,' as you call me, that I'm worthy of all your fuss?

From my mother's teachings, I know that the Draenei have a tradition of 'prophets', and those special individuals among you can see through fate.

Isn't it because you see me doing something terrible or glorious in the future that you look at me differently?
It's like Gul'dan originally wanted to kill me like he killed the orcs of the Bladewind clan, but because I escaped several times, he realized my "talent", so he spent so much effort to shape me into what I am today.

He's taking advantage of me.
But aren't you the same?

You want to change my fate because you hope that this forged dagger of mine will stand on the side of the Draenei in the future and fight against the fate that wants to harm you for your benefit.

Am I right? You false saint!

"I never imagined that I, who wanted to save you, would be seen like this in your eyes. It seems that Gul'dan has indeed taught you well, giving you the best qualities of an assassin and a killer.

Doubt and questioning.

Use your keen perception to detect the true face beneath the mask of everyone you meet, find their weaknesses and exploit them to make them your weapons.

I've heard that the greatest assassins never hesitate to use only their own daggers.

They can turn everything in the world into a sharp weapon to kill their opponents, including language."

Facing Garona's verbal attack, Dick smiled, put his hands behind his back, and said:

“But you’re wrong!

You are indeed very talented, Garona. Among all the lives I have seen, only the former Commander Targas can compete with you in the field favored by shadows. You are a natural assassin, which means that as long as you are placed in the right situation, you can easily dominate the outcome of a war, the survival of a country, and even the direction of the world.

Of course, I can't allow such a talent to be possessed and used by a scum like Gul'dan.

But that’s not what drove my decision.”

He looked at Garona and saw the wounds on the child's arms that were torn from the pain of fighting the dark temptations within her heart.

There were many such wounds, some of which had turned into scars.

This proves that even during the time under the control of the Shadow Council, Garona was not always submissive. She had been trying to resist the control from the Orb of Domination, and she wanted to use pain to keep herself awake.

Using pain to fight despair, this unique concept may come from the teachings of a certain "orc assassin predecessor".

Dick stretched out his hand, wrapped in healing holy light, and reached into the prison car, but before it touched Garona, the latter grabbed him with both hands and used her only remaining weapon to bite Diakum's wrist with her teeth.

That was not a coquettish bite, but a real life-and-death fight, using the orc's fangs to tear Dick's arm artery to complete the assassination.

But it didn't work.

The absolute strength gap between the two is quite large.

The "perfect endurance" and super defense bestowed by the Legacy of the Naaru made it difficult for Garona to break through the defense even though she tried her best. Before the skin was bitten and the blood could drip, the wound healed in the beating of holy light.

Diakum is now the Archon of Light!

If he can't even cure such a minor injury, then his title as a legendary pastor would be in vain.

As Garona attacked him, her Archon of Light talent activated, causing a gentle, holy aura to emanate from her arm, enveloping her like a halo. The healing holy light gently filled her body, healing her wounds and dispelling the chill that enveloped her. Garona felt a warmth, like she had seen a campfire after walking alone in the cold night for a long time, exhausted and hungry.

She knew that a good assassin should not be distracted by such warmth, but her exhausted spirit could not resist the temptation of light. She finally let go of Diakum's wrist and let the saint's hand gently place on her forehead.

Mental prayers and Holy Word: Fortitude were cast upon Garona's body, strengthening both her body and mind, causing the dark and decadent sounds in her mind to vanish in an instant. The subsequent Dispel spell also swept away Garona's weakness.

As Dick chanted softly, in less than half a minute, the orc assassin felt himself recover from weakness to full mobility with the help of a series of divine arts.

Her spirits improved a lot, and she even felt hungry. She picked up the Draenei pastry that Lelan had placed beside her and started eating it without caring about her decency. Seeing that she ate too fast, Dick took out the Talbuk sheep yogurt and split-hoof beef jerky he carried with him from his bag and handed them to her.

As a result, Garona ate three servings of food in one breath before stopping.

She wiped her mouth, looked at Diakum's surprised gaze, and explained with some shame:
"This is because Gul'dan used a sorcery to forcibly mature this body, but this sorcery only accelerated my growth and couldn't replenish the energy needed for rapid growth. Therefore, my appetite has increased significantly.
At least that's what the sorcerers explained!"

"No need to explain. Being able to eat is a skill. Especially for the thrilling battles that outstanding assassins will encounter, replenishing physical strength in time is the right choice."

Diakum waved his hand and said:
"Your skills are worthy of this appetite, but I'm curious, was it Chieftain Kargath of the Shattered Hand who trained you?"

"I 'taught myself' in that sadistic arena."

Garona stroked her arms and whispered:
"You're not so naive as to think that Gul'dan's so-called 'training' means finding me some serious teachers, like you taught those orcs? He threw me and the other assassins into Kargath's death arena and gave us a month to fight various opponents and each other. In the end, I was the only one who survived.

By the time I left the arena covered in wounds, I had become a qualified assassin.

There are many similar experiences.
In the despair day after day, I was forced to abandon cowardice and hope, and could only let the darkness envelop my spirit and pray to the things in the darkness. Those voices helped me survive.

But as I escaped death again and again, I fell deeper and deeper into the mental manipulation brought by the Orb of Domination, unable to extricate myself.

That thing was not only a container to lock away the spirit, Gul'dan also used it to teach me those dark and evil knowledge.

How to hide in the shadows, how to complete an assassination, how to make poisons, how to disguise yourself. I absorbed this knowledge day and night, which allowed me to become what I am now in a very short time, but Gul'dan is just a warlock!
He clearly shouldn't understand this, perhaps his voice isn't the only one in the orb."

"Gul'dan serves a greater evil, and the orcish proto-warlock and leader of the Shadow Council is but a pathetic pawn to those destroyers who stalk the sea of stars."

Dick listened carefully to Garona's description of the Orb of Domination and said:
"The Burning Legion possesses countless assassins from countless servant armies. The power and skills they possess are beyond your imagination. Rather than saying that Gul'dan trained you, it is better to say that the demons of the Burning Legion used Gul'dan to shape you into the most deadly blade in Draenor.

This is their code of conduct.

Just like the two daggers Gul'dan prepared for you, you can hear some sounds from them, right?"

"Hmm! Those two daggers have a mind of their own! They're alive!"

Garona said with a hint of caution and fear:
“Every time I use them I feel like I’m not wielding them, but they’re driving me!

The poison on the two daggers does not need to be tempered. The sharp blades are always filled with deadly plague, and they can also transform the blades into different forms according to my needs. Gul'dan said that it was Chieftain Blackhand who personally forged the weapons for me in order to reward my merits.

But I know, it’s not!

"That wasn't a weapon an orcish forger could craft. Blackhand could only forge its framework! The power within that weapon came from a darker place, a power loaned to Gul'dan!"

"Yes, from Azeroth, a legendary world."

Diakum took out Garona's two daggers from his bag.

This set of weapons was very similar to the "King Slayer" double-edged swords in his memory, but due to a change in fate, the source of the weapons' power had changed. Their handles were made entirely of living wood, and a strange vitality was bubbling from them.

Garona said that these two daggers can automatically generate toxins, which is also one of the characteristics of powerful life power.

As he caressed the two daggers, the item descriptions appeared before his eyes:

[Weapon Name: Pain and Sorrow·Death Plague Regicide

Weapon Quality: Artifact [Shadow/Poison]

Weapon characteristics: Adaptive deformation, Death Plague, Devouring Growth, Wild Strengthening
Weapon Effects: Not available for [Assassin/Stalker/Killer] paths
Forged by: Cenarius the Defiler/Warchief Blackhand

Belongs to: Garona [Temporarily bound]

Weapon description:

[You bastard! You had to randomly add all sorts of weird, messy things to the perfectly good Shadow Blades. This seriously damaged the heights that these two blades could reach in the assassin world.]

As an assassin, you should be pure!
Poisoning weapons is something only cowards do. Choosing to kill all witnesses like I did back then is also a perfect infiltration.

But what to say?

The handle made of the living wood of the World Tree originating from Azeroth gives this thing a very special natural affinity, which greatly enhances the stealth of the holder. It is a pleasant surprise, especially after you interfered with fate and turned the Fang of Redmaw from an assassin's artifact into a hunter's artifact. The poison from the Polluter has made this weapon fill the gap in the way of poison.

But I still want to insult Cenarius the Defiler harshly. What the hell does a half-baked druid know about the ways of an assassin?

】

"These two blades are imbued with the deadly plague poison bestowed by the Defiler. I guess you showed mercy when you used them to assassinate Old White Claw. Otherwise, that old orc would never have survived until I called upon the Holy Light to save him."

Diakum placed the two daggers beside the cage. As Garona looked on in surprise, he said:

"When we leave, I will release you and leave you with these weapons."

"Are you crazy?"

Garona exclaimed:

"I can't even control myself! If I get my hands on these weapons, I'll be forced to attack you! You might not care, but others won't be able to withstand my assassination.

If their skin is pierced, they're finished!"

"The only reason such an outcome could occur is that you once again succumbed to Gul'dan's dark temptations."

Dick looked at her and said seriously:

“Remember what I told Leland earlier.

If we are to save your soul, we will require your own resolve to return from the shelter of darkness to the world of light. Gul'dan has shaped you into what you are today, but you still have the opportunity to choose.

That is a decision you have to make for yourself.

Will you continue to stay in the darkness, or will you resolve to return to the sunlight where your mother is?

This is not just our battle, Garona. While we destroy the Orb of Sovereignty, you must also have a fair fight with Gul'dan, who has been manipulating you, on the battlefield of your own will.

The warlock underestimated your determination to protect your loved ones, and he will suffer a defeat as a result.

As for what you will do with these daggers given by darkness when you return to the world of light, that is not my business.

The Holy Light has not taught me to arbitrarily decide the fate of others. I will only rescue you from the shackles. This is your life, and you have to decide how to go on and where to go.

Of course, I'll tell you in advance.

If you should regretfully succumb to the temptations of darkness and become Gul'dan's accomplice in harming the good, your compatriot Lantresor Burning Blade will offer you relief on our behalf."

"I'd be honored to do that."

Amid the faint sound of the wind, the Fire Blade Sword Saint emerged from the Wind Step.

He stared at Garona and said in a deep voice:
"Becoming a 'Halfolsen' is already the worst fate you can have in Draenor. I cannot allow my compatriots to continue to degenerate into monsters! If you cannot save yourself, I will give you the execution you crave.

The Nagrand Steppes are the Burning Blade's hunting grounds, Garona, don't let yourself become the prey!"

Faced with this warning, Garona gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and nodded to Diakum and Lantresor.

As the saint turned to leave, Garona suddenly asked:
"You haven't answered my question yet. When I accused you of using me just like Gul'dan, you still didn't answer me. Why are you willing to do this for me, someone you have no connection with?"

"I don't want to disappoint my girl. I promised my battle-brother, Mardran, that I would protect his children like a father. That is my oath."

Dick waved his hand without looking back, and after taking a step forward, he said:

"What's more, I didn't see a dagger sharp enough to change fate. I only saw a twelve-year-old child covered in scars, helplessly and stumbling forward in the darkness.

Who would remain indifferent to this?
Every kind person will lend a helping hand to you.

The reason is not as complicated as you think.

Like I said, this is just a little help.

The Holy Light will be pleased to see me do good deeds in its name, and I will be satisfied with this help and even receive rewards from the Holy Light."

After saying that, Dick strode away, leaving only Lantresor and Garona by the prisoner wagon. The two remained silent until more than ten seconds later, when Garona looked at her compatriots and whispered,
"Do you believe what he said? It sounds a bit high-sounding."

"I believe."

The Fire Blade Sword Master closed his eyes, feeling the slightest movement around him.

He whispered:

"He's a warrior with conviction. Such a person disdains to use words to promote himself. Moreover, I think the 'Holy Light' he believes in is not the same as the Holy Light that other Draenei people talk about.

Blessed are you, Garona.

The blessing of such an elder is enough to save you from the tragic fate of Havolsen.
Of course, the prerequisite is that you can escape from my blade."

Lantresor took a step back and disappeared in the shadow brought by the Wind Step. At the moment of disappearance, he stared at Garona and said:
"Child, win the battle you must fight! Don't ever give me a chance to draw my sword."

(End of this chapter)