23. The Despair Before One's Eyes: Time! You fool, the problem is time!

From the perspective of the physical universe, a World-Soul is an absolute rarity.

Life nurtured within the cradle of a celestial body can never be taken lightly, and naturally, communicating with such an existence requires a special method. In the official history of the Dark Portal—the main stage for a series of epic legends—the heroes of Azeroth communicated with their World-Soul through the order-based technology left behind by the Pantheon of Titans, and with the World-Soul’s guidance and assistance, they dealt with one major threat after another.

However, they were able to use Titan technology only because the Pantheon had noticed Azeroth long ago and subjected the world to an almost comprehensive transformation; those Titans had utilized their highest technology on Azeroth.

Argus, by contrast, did not have that "privilege."

According to all the ancient legends of Argus that Dick had collected so far, no information related to the Titans or the Pantheon had ever appeared. Those gods who walked upon the sea of stars on two legs had not noticed this planet.

This was both a good thing and a bad thing.

Argus did not have to suffer the "poisoning" of the Arcane power of Order, but it also meant that it became difficult for the Eredar, the native race of Argus, to communicate with their own World-Soul. Without the aid of Titan technology, the Eredar could only perceive their World-Soul through the most primitive methods.

This placed an extremely harsh requirement on individual talent. According to Xal’atath’s accounts and the shamanic legends described by Exarch Haddon, the "Progenitor Wizard" was likely the only one in Eredar civilization since its birth who could communicate with the World-Soul.

The "Holy Stone" before them, clearly linked to the elemental powers present at the dawn of the world’s creation, was likely the "tool" the Progenitor Wizard used to sense the shifts of the World-Soul.

This made sense.

According to the rules of the material universe, the birth of all planetary entities stems from the initial agitation of ancient elemental forces within the cosmos. Through the conflict and fusion of wind, fire, water, and earth, celestial bodies take shape in the sea of stars; it is precisely because of the collision of these elemental forces that the celestial body completes its first "polishing," providing the initial impetus for the birth of life.

Following this theory, it is not difficult to conclude that the elemental power present on every planet is the most primitive force that a World-Soul can wield while it has yet to choose its own path or awaken!

This was the origin of the Holy Stone before them.

The members of the "World-Soul Exploration Team," at the old shaman's request, had retreated to a safe position. Before them, Diakem—protected by the Holy Light—appeared at this moment as if cast in light, rendering the ancient elements unable to encroach upon or interfere with his conversation with the World-Soul.

Dick remained silent, but everyone believed he had already established a connection with the World-Soul.

But for now, there was almost nothing they could do but wait.

The old shaman muttered difficult-to-understand phrases like "the Chosen One" and "the World Will shall be revealed," while Jaid was deeply worried about his father’s mental health and his brother’s physical well-being.

The "Five Mighty Warriors" made no special moves. As excellent soldiers, they knew that the more dangerous the situation, the more one must obey orders. They maintained a safe distance from the Holy Stone as requested by Brigadier Diakem and Chieftain Haddon, lest the agitation of the Holy Light within them trigger a counterattack from the absurdly powerful elemental forces in this cavern.

To what extent were the elemental forces here exaggerated?

The Holy Light within the Five, which should have been gentle, had automatically shifted into a highly aggressive state. It wasn't that the Holy Light had any grudge against the elements, but purely because the elements here held an absolute crushing advantage, and the Holy Light had to protect its followers!

The bold and ambitious twins had recovered from their shock and were now carefully recording every detail around the Holy Stone with arcane runestones. This was the most crucial part of their first mission as "rookies" of the Assassin’s Court; they had to record this "audience" in its entirety and even produce a sufficiently detailed mission report after the task was concluded.

However, the focus of their commander, Captain Neri, a high-ranking ranger of the Assassin’s Court, was rather strange at this moment.

She seemed to have full confidence in Diakem, seemingly unworried about the Brigadier’s "audience" failing. While others were observing the Holy Stone and Diakem, she nonchalantly wandered over to the stone throne not far away, circled the ancient skeleton a few times, and returned to the twins, whispering:

"Are you certain that is the Progenitor Wizard, Lord Ogure?"

"Just measure the head circumference."

Oleses, who was busy recording the action, whispered back:

"Ever since the rise of the obscure and incomprehensible study of phrenology, all Eredar arcanists have used this absurd standard to determine the limits of their spellcasting talent. We sisters are no different; we have measured our head circumferences no less than twenty times since we were children, and the unified comparison standard we use comes from the head circumference data left behind by the Progenitor Wizard himself.

That’s right.

Lord Ogure, the Progenitor Wizard, was the inventor of 'phrenology'!

In that sense, our Eredar ancestor was a very complex person."

"But Lord Ogure lived in the dawn of civilization! Wasn't it normal to sacrifice a few living people in a barbaric age?"

Neri sighed and quipped:

"It is said that the Progenitor Wizard was not only the founder of the Arcane path but also the creator of the Shamanic path. Perhaps Ogure personally sacrificed many living people; perhaps he invented phrenology purely to make it more convenient to oversee tribe sacrifices?

Regardless, you arcanists are truly a bunch of vermin!

It’s been tens of thousands of years, and to deliberately maintain such barbaric customs is truly absurd. You two! After you're done, go measure the head circumference of that skeleton."

The ranger captain glanced at Diakem, who was shrouded in brilliant light. She flicked her little tail with slight unease and cautioned the twins, who seemed a bit "clumsy" due to their youth:

"Remember to be gentle, show the necessary respect—that is your ancestor, after all."

"Isn't he your ancestor, and the ancestor of all other Eredar as well? He is a legendary, great figure!"

Saloras retorted, but she and her sister still took out their "special tools" and ran over to measure the Progenitor Wizard’s head circumference.

Xal’atath, the leader of the arcanist community in this era, was a "loyal devotee" of phrenology, which meant that every single arcanist today possessed this terrible "basic skill."

Time ticked by second by second, the elemental power was receding, but the Holy Light on Diakem was growing brighter. That seemed to signify that his "communication" with the World-Soul had entered a critical stage. To avoid any unexpected situations, old Haddon decided to take measures. Under his command, the shamans planted more totems at a safe distance, and the arcanists deployed shields.

Just as everyone held their breath, watching the Holy Light on Dick shining in tandem with the Holy Stone, Imira, who was nervously gripping her healing staff, suddenly spotted with sharp eyes what the twins were holding as they snuck over.

Her eyes widened in an instant, and she exclaimed:

"How could you take off the ancestor’s head? Put it back! This is sacrilege!"

"Stay out of arcanist business, priestess!"

Saloras snapped back with a fierce whisper, but their dialogue had attracted the attention of everyone nearby.

Under the strange gazes of the crowd, Jaid, a prairie man who deeply respected tradition, had already half-drawn his waist blade. Clearly, this act of "desecrating the dead" had crossed the simple moral line of Jaid and the Krokuun people.

Seeing that things were about to go wrong, the more stable Oleses hurriedly waved her hand. She stroked the "Skull of Ogure" in her hand and explained seriously:

"Have you forgotten? Senior sister and everyone, arcanists have always had the tradition of removing the perfect skulls of distinguished predecessors to be refined and used as spellcasting mediums. This is by no means sacrilege! In fact, according to the most basic interpretation of phrenology, a spellcaster’s talent and genius are preserved within the skull after death.

As long as it is used reasonably, future generations can also admire the glory of their predecessors.

Since Ogure is the founder of phrenology, he naturally would not resist his own perfect skull being crafted into a powerful magical artifact by his promising descendants.

Of course, a relic of this level is not something our sisters can covet.

Please rest assured, this skull will be sent to the two Triumvirate, to be crafted by the master artisans of the Relic Chamber and handed over to the noble Velen to use! My sister and I are only responsible for the first step of 'raw material' collection!

I guarantee it."

"You better keep your word. I'll be watching you."

Although Imira had once been an arcanist, having converted to the Holy Light, she still felt this tradition was too absurd. She tossed out a harsh remark, then turned her head back to look at Lord Dick.

"Light! Look at that light! There is radiance emanating from it!"

A few seconds later, Jaid’s shout came from the crowd.

The group struggled to open their eyes against the pressure and buffeting of the elemental storm. Indeed, as the sharp-eyed Jaid had said, a special light was erupting from the Holy Stone.

It was a radiance that could not be clearly described in words. It formed a stark contrast with the Holy Light entwined around Diakem; it was not a pure color but constantly shifted in spectrum and form, like silk cloth in water, possessing a certain soft, tangible quality. Yet, within the brilliant multi-colored beams, there was a hint of intoxicating, bewitching deep blue.

It looked very much like a crystal constantly changing between solid and liquid.

This beam of light escaped from the Holy Stone, and in the blink of an eye, it permeated the entire cavern.

Under the stunned gaze of the crowd, rocks turned into trees, wind and sand transformed into flowing water. Solid matter that should have been firm was constantly and randomly converted into other forms, as if the rules of the material world had failed within this light.

But this was to be expected!

Everything that shaped the planet of Argus came from the great power of the World-Soul, just as the master of a house has the authority to decide the placement and form of all the furniture.

As long as the World-Soul willed it, it could, in a single thought, whip up a storm of creation, turning the current Argus into another form entirely. The prosperous Eredar civilization would be wiped away like a sand sculpture in a heartbeat, only to become the "past" excavated by some future civilization among the ruins of history.

In the face of such creative power, the Eredar... no, all the skills and heritage that any mortal civilization took pride in seemed so humble.

"It is It who generously allows our existence, rather than us shaping It. Oh, Supreme Lord!"

Exarch Haddon, as a shaman, could feel the magnificent essence emanating from the World-Soul more clearly than the others.

He breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his child, Diakem, had truly gained the World-Soul’s recognition at this moment. Amidst the now-gentle elemental storm, he prostrated himself on the ground again, devoutly calling out the name "Argus."

This was the name the Eredar called their planet, a decision handed down from the Progenitor Wizard, and a title that Ogure and his descendants humbly offered to the World-Soul.

Seeing the Exarch’s actions, the others followed suit. Even the arrogant twins were forced to adopt the most devout posture at this moment.

Thus, the only person left standing in the cavern was Dick, who was in the middle of a "Talk."

It wasn't that his bones were too stiff to kneel; rather, his spirit had already detached from his body. Under the proper protection of the Holy Light’s power during this moment of "destiny's choice," he was delving deep into the Holy Stone, as if being guided by the power of origin into another "world."

Within that brilliant power emanating from the World-Soul, he felt like he had been thrown into a time tunnel. Amidst the constant spinning and falling, he could vaguely see all the traces of everything that had happened in the world of Argus.

He saw how the first Eredar were born in this lush, great forest, how they gradually shed their ram-horned beastly forms to possess human shapes, and finally, from the hunched, primitive, and humble forms of the Broken, grew into the strong and vibrant bodies they had today.

He saw the young shaman Ogure, in an early Eredar tribe, fall into this cavern during an accidental exploration. Ogure discovered the Holy Stone and humbly prayed and prostrated himself for seven full days and nights, finally, in a courageous touch, he—like Dick—fell into this shimmering "world memory."

He saw Ogure go from panic to curious observation, and finally to wholehearted submission.

He saw the Progenitor Wizard begin to learn the precious knowledge bestowed upon him by the World-Soul, and subsequently summon the power of the ancient elements in the guise of a "spokesperson."

He saw the Progenitor Wizard bravely lead his people out of the great forest they had lived in for generations, coming to the outside world for the first time. In that wild and dangerous world, Ogure, blessed by the World-Soul, wielded the power of the elements to change the world.

He shaped the initial Krokuun grasslands, raised monstrous waves to crash against the coasts of other continents, and finally built stone bridges connecting the straits, leading the ancestors into the mountains of Mac'Aree.

He also saw Ogure, following the guidance of the World-Soul, find the Atar-Mal relic—which had fallen into the world in even more ancient times—within the towering mountains of Mac'Aree, and establish the first city of the Eredar there.

That was the ancient memory; that was the recollection of the world.

The immortal nature of the Eredar allowed Ogure to hold this mantle for the long years that followed until he sensed his end was near.

Perhaps he had lived long enough, or perhaps it was the call and enlightenment of the World-Soul.

In any case, the Progenitor Wizard, who first "concluded a contract" with the world, returned to the place where he was first blessed and used his great power one last time to protect this site.

He walked his final path here in solitude, returning the power bestowed upon him by the World-Soul to the true master of the world.

The subsequent history passed in the blink of an eye, like the changing of the seas. The Eredar went from unity to division, to war, and finally, unity once again, pushing their civilization to its peak. And in the following images, Dick saw another familiar figure follow the legends of the ancestors here.

Xal’atath!

The Enlightener was dressed in fine robes, showing off the air of a big shot, but in these "world memory" images, his face was gloomy and worried, clearly trapped in terrible mental turmoil.

He came before Ogure’s remains, paid humble tribute as a disciple to his ancestor, and then, like Dick, attempted to touch the Holy Stone to communicate with the World-Soul.

He completed the ritual, proving he was also a "Chosen One."

In Dick’s words, he inherited Ogure’s duties and became the second "World Guardian" born in the history of the world of Argus since the Progenitor Wizard.

However, Xal’atath did not accept this blessing.

Instead, after completing the contact with the World-Soul, Xal’atath seemed to lose all courage and hope, collapsing beneath the Holy Stone, weeping loudly, shrouded in despair.

The helplessness and despair of that powerful arcanist at that moment made him look like a child whose lollipop had been snatched away.

At this moment, Dick was completely certain why Xal’atath would be so desperate as to kneel before the Burning Legion after facing the World-Soul.

He shifted his attention away from the world memories, walking forward in this world of light. Amidst an eruption of radiance, his spirit fell into a state of confusion and bewilderment, as if a massive blast had stunned him.

When Dick came to his senses, he finally saw the "World-Soul" itself.

Just like the scene in his memory when he had an audience with the World-Soul of Azeroth, within the "cradle" woven from light so brilliant that words could not describe it, and beneath the veil that even destiny had to bow and hold its breath for fear of disturbing, the noble and magnificent World-Soul was still sleeping.

It was sleeping, and it was slumbering.

But even the idle disturbances of the world’s dream allowed its great power to emanate, shaping the magnificent scenery of modern Argus.

To an existence like It, the planetary body was merely a cradle for rest, and the Eredar living on the surface of Argus were merely "little ants" crawling upon its magnificent divine body, not worth noticing, and not even worth destroying.

It possessed power that did not need to be described in words. Even just looking at It gave Dick an urge to "bow and submit."

This urge was hard to resist with willpower, just as it is hard for a mortal to decide to rebel against their creator, especially when this creator is neither cruel nor evil, and is, in fact, very generous and gentle.

Its power shaped the Eredar and bestowed immortality upon them. This alone was enough for the Eredar to be grateful to this deity.

Unfortunately, stripping away this magnificent cloak of myth, the World-Soul in Dick’s eyes was still unformed and nowhere near as powerful or invincible as the Titans of the Pantheon.

This was enough to show that "Argus" had not yet reached the stage where it could gestate a clear self, let alone use the celestial body to shape its own supreme divine form. Its current stage of growth might even be later than that of the supreme star-soul of Azeroth, which could actively seek out a "spokesperson" and guide its children to eliminate hidden dangers for it.

Although star-souls are naturally magnificent, their growth requires an incredibly long time.

It is a time scale that even immortals like the Eredar can hardly measure; tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of years are but a moment of a dream in the sleep of a star-soul.

In the most extreme case, even if the Eredar were not harassed by demons, even if they developed smoothly, by the time this civilization naturally developed and naturally perished, the last Eredar would likely not be able to see with their own eyes the magnificent sight of "Argus" naturally being born among the stars before they died.

Perhaps it would take millions of years or longer for the star-soul Argus to open its eyes from its cradle in an invincible posture, and then walk among the stars as a celestial god, sowing blessings for the physical universe.

However, would the Burning Legion, already closing in, and its Dark Titan give the Argus star-soul and the Eredar millions of years to grow in peace?

Obviously not!

This was the source of Xal’atath’s despair, the final blow that broke the Enlightener’s spine!

It was also the reason why Xal’atath refused to accept the power and glory of the "World Guardian," turning instead to kneel before the demons and willing to sacrifice Argus to the Dark Titan, in hopes that the Eredar civilization could survive in the dark ages.

Dick sighed deeply at this moment.

Now, this "infant" Argus star-soul, no matter what, could not resist Sargeras, the most powerful Dark Titan in the physical universe. It being captured, infused with Fel energy to "force growth," and eventually appearing as the "Fel-Titan Aggramar" was already a predetermined ending.

At this moment, Dick seemed to hear the cold mockery of destiny.

At the moment of destiny’s choice, where the hand of fate shaped Argus, the burning power of the Prime Force had arrived at the most magnificent place a mortal could reach. Yet, there was absolutely no "hope" here that he, despite his exhaustive efforts, had longed to find.

Time—the most generous thing in the world, and the most cruel thing in the world.

The Eredar had obtained that most precious key granted by destiny.

But regrettably, they had come too early...

Too early.

Not even at the beginning of the beginning, they were already about to face the end of the end.

But unfortunately, destiny could not see a single trace of discouragement or despair on the face of Diakem, this "Hand of Destiny." The Holy Gun Commander’s expression was as calm as if he had known all of this long ago. At the very least, in the field of "observing the future," destiny was not fit to be Dick’s opponent.

He was a transmigrator.

From the moment he awoke, he had known of destiny’s malicious and cold arrangement for Argus, but even without those memories, he could have glimpsed a shred of truth from Xal’atath’s abnormal reaction.

In the official history of the Dark Portal, the rebellion of the Enlightener Xal’atath was merely a footnote used to describe the story of Archimonde’s rise. It was not clearly explained why an arcanist leader like the Enlightener would suddenly switch his allegiance to Fel energy overnight.

But attributing it entirely to Fel corruption and the temptation of the Dark Titan was not quite right.

Xal’atath was, after all, an outstanding spellcaster who had lived for thousands of years and could be mentioned in the same breath as old Velen. Although he was completely incomparable to the famous "Astral Mage" Medivh in terms of talent and ability, Medivh, after being directly "possessed" by the Dark Titan ten thousand years later, was still able to maintain resistance against Sargeras throughout his short life. Therefore, there was no reason for a spellcaster standing at the peak of civilization like Xal’atath to have his spirit crushed and fall overnight.

His transformation was too abnormal, almost to the point of absurdity.

But now, having seen the situation of the World-Soul Argus with his own eyes, one could no longer blame Xal’atath for not being firm enough.

It wasn't that the Enlightener was born spineless and didn't want to resist the Dark Titan and its world-ending demon army.

That he could follow in the footsteps of the Progenitor Wizard Ogure to find the Holy Stone meant that Xal’atath had had the intention to resist after realizing the threat of the demons, and he had even found the most powerful assistance he could find. But the cruel reality eventually shattered all his confidence.

As one of the first leaders of Eredar spellcasters to be tempted by the Dark Titan, Xal’atath had the deepest understanding of the power of the "Benefactor." He knew very well how wide the gap in power was between the two sides, and in his helpless despair, he allowed himself to fall into the "promises" given by the Dark Titan.

However, Dick had thwarted the dark coup of the Awakening Cult and had killed Archimonde, leaving not even a bone behind. This had broken the "cycle" of the official history.

The two spellcaster leaders in Eredar civilization most likely to be recruited by the Dark Titan had both failed; the seeds of Fel corruption had been completely eradicated, and Sargeras’s means of polluting and interfering with the Eredar had all been rendered ineffective.

If the Dark Titan did not intend to abandon the plan to capture the Argus star-soul, then the situation this world would face next was clear.

The Burning Legion would arrive in this world cloaked in the Dark Titan’s wrath, sweeping away obstacles with force to seize what Sargeras desired. In this process, the only outcome the Eredar would get was destruction.

It seemed that only by surrendering in advance, allowing themselves to be infused into Fel monsters, could they escape the outcome of civilization’s extinction. No wonder Xal’atath had angrily accused Dick in his cage of "ruining everything," and no wonder Xal’atath had positioned himself as a "martyr" who preserved civilization.

This was the only way the old wizard could think of in the face of a desperate situation.

But the Brigadier had no regrets at this moment.

The light shining in his eyes represented that everything was within his expectations, and the way he looked at the baby World-Soul declared that this was actually part of the plan.

Precisely because he knew how history would develop, he would not sit by and let things go on as they had.

Since he had come, he couldn't leave empty-handed. Besides, he had killed Archimonde; this life was worth it! Now he just needed to go all out. No matter how the situation changed, it wouldn't be worse than the outcome of Eredar civilization in the official history of the Dark Portal.

As the Brigadier truly saw the World-Soul’s true form and reaffirmed his determination, a sequence of images appeared in his mind.

In those chaotic, fast-cut, montage-like images, Dick saw a flaming giant walking in the sea of stars, and he also saw torrents of demons gathering on a Fel-corrupted planet.

He even saw an image of the Dark Titan’s magnificent figure, large enough to crush galaxies, appearing in the sky of the world of Argus. Without a doubt, this was some kind of prophecy.

This was also what the World-Soul wanted him to see.

Although it was still sleeping and very far from truly "breaking out of its shell," the World-Soul had its own wondrous power, and It sensed that a great disaster was coming.

It vaguely felt what kind of desperate future It would encounter.

Everything was as Dick had expected: as long as he reached the Holy Stone, as long as he appeared here, he would definitely be able to establish contact with the World-Soul, because It was also calling for help!

The World-Soul was also thirsting for a counterattack in a desperate situation.

Very well!

As long as It didn't choose to lie down in the face of a desperate situation, Dick’s trip had not been in vain.

"You must be very afraid."

After the poorly-edited prophetic images ended, Dick let out a long breath. The Holy Gun Commander whispered:

"The mere fact that your most powerful, yet fallen-into-darkness 'brother' is coming with a burning dark sword to 'have a talk' with you is terrifying enough; I don't even need to dwell on that fear...

I have come precisely for this, Lord Argus.

I know that before making a decision, we, who are indecisive, need to discard hesitation, and I also know that after taking action, we, who cannot turn back, need to struggle long and hard against regret.

But now, please skip the part about shivering due to the enemy’s power!

Before coming here, I had already strangled the hesitation in my heart; when standing before you, I had already regarded future regret as my lifelong enemy.

We must resist the Burning Legion and fight the Dark Titan!

This is not a question of winning or losing, but that we must hold on until that moment; we must choose to fight to have any possibility of passing on true hope to this sea of stars.

What I bring is not just a heart full of blood seeking life in death. If you, like me, are unwilling to give up, then please listen as I declare my plan. I have spent a lot of time perfecting it; perhaps there are still flaws, but we have no other way.

Your body is destined to be defiled, but perhaps your spirit can still be saved...

So, let us prepare and stage the most magnificent 'cicada shedding its skin' for the incoming Dark Titan."