35. Kil'jaeden's Final Offering

The first batch of Naaru starships to leave Argus did not immediately head into deep space. Instead, these ships—varying in size but all sharing a crystalline aesthetic—remained in orbit around the planet as planned. This was a safety precaution. To evacuate as many Eredar as possible, the Naaru had arrived with their ships essentially empty, but now, every vessel was packed to capacity. Relying solely on the Naaru’s own energy was no longer sufficient to maintain the maximum speeds required to traverse the stars. They needed to wait for the "Mother of Light," Xe'ra, to perform a massive divination to reset the return routes for each ship, thereby avoiding potential threats along their paths.

Although the Burning Legion had not yet recruited enough Mo'arg war-crafters, nor had they unearthed a destructive genius like Kin'garoth to design warships suited to demonic sensibilities—meaning the sea of stars remained relatively safe—the absence of the Legion did not mean the cosmos was free of peril. Unpredictable stellar vortices and sudden Void cataclysms could spell disaster for any vessel. The most direct example was the Void catastrophe that erupted on the planet Karkora. The corruptive power from the Sea of Lights-Out instantly swallowed that world and its surrounding star system. If not for a passing Naaru who sacrificed itself to purge the pollution, Karkora would have become a gangrenous void-source spreading corruption throughout the physical universe. Incidentally, that self-sacrificing Naaru was named "T'uure," and its remains were fashioned into a staff of the Light, which Velen currently held.

Thus, while the Naaru had their share of quirks, if you were living in the Azeroth universe and your world faced an extinction-level threat, you would do well to pray that a wandering Naaru happened to be passing by. Among all mythological beings in the physical universe, only the Naaru would selflessly sacrifice themselves to save a group of strangers with whom they had no connection. In comparison, even the Dragon Aspects appointed by the Pantheon seemed selfish, and the Titan Keepers were, one and all, insufferable misers. This noble desire for sacrifice was ingrained in the Naaru at their creation by the Prime Naaru of the Light, a biological instinct that none could defy. Even the most notorious, fanatical, and extreme of them, the "Mother of Light" Xe'ra—whose orchestrations led to the massive "psychological infection" incident—was driven by the original intent of saving the cosmos from disaster. One could call her a madwoman, but not a villain.

While the first fleet maintained its orbital maneuvers and the second batch arrived on schedule to begin extreme rescue operations on the surface of Argus, inside one of the starships, Commander Kil'jaeden—having just endured a frustrating "Sibi-Sibi coup"—finally broke free from the seals Velen had placed upon him. The reason it took so long was twofold: Kil'jaeden had indeed been severely wounded in battle, and even with the nourishment of the World-Soul, he required time to recover. Furthermore, the "cunning" navigation Naaru on the ship had been quietly maintaining the seal, likely due to some agreement reached with Velen.

In short, Kil'jaeden felt stifled and furious. The moment he broke the seal, he expressed his mood through decisive action.

"Bang!"

Ekinus, the Light-sworn guardian of the commander, was sent flying from the cabin by a ferocious punch, the sturdy bulkhead torn open by Kil'jaeden's sheer rage. The commander had been a legendary warrior even before the World-Soul’s blessing; now, still within the Argus system and bearing the world's favor, he had long surpassed the demigod threshold. Beating a Light-sworn was child's play. However, anger did not consume his mind; he did not strike the fallen guardian again. He panted, suppressing his fury, and strode out of the cabin. Several other guardians attempted to block him but were struck down one by one, until by the time the priests arrived, Kil'jaeden had already reached the plaza on the ship's main deck.

As a starship, the space here was not comparable to smaller vessels. In reality, the interior of a Naaru ship was like a tiered city. Despite being at full capacity, it was not overly crowded; grieving civilians were still allocated eight-person cabins. The living conditions had declined, but not drastically—this was, after all, a rescue mission, not a slave trade.

"It’s the High Exarch! It’s Lord Kil'jaeden! Thank goodness, we are saved!"

Someone shouted, and the civilians praying to the Light in the plaza immediately gathered around. They wept, pleading for the High Exarch's blessing. Surrounded by his people, Kil'jaeden’s volcanic rage could find no vent. He could only stiffen his face, reaching out to touch these terrified souls, expressing his presence to calm their fear-stricken hearts.

The Eredar Governor assigned to this ship was old Haddon. Upon hearing that Commander Kil'jaeden had awakened, Haddon hurried over, only to be scolded by the commander for not caring enough about the people's mental state. But Haddon had his own hardships. Nearly 110,000 Krokuun had been settled here, and his administrative staff had yet to be fully organized. That things hadn't descended into chaos was solely due to the Eredar's civilized nature. He didn't explain this to the High Exarch; instead, he pleaded with Kil'jaeden not to take further risks.

"Velen has foreseen your dark fate, High Exarch!" Haddon, unable to stop him otherwise, gritted his teeth and revealed the truth. He grabbed Kil'jaeden’s hand and said in a deep voice, "When I left the Seat of the Triumvirate, Velen specifically instructed me not to let you return to Argus. He said you would fall into a dark conspiracy and that in every future prophecy regarding the Eredar, you would play a terrifying role! As your friend and brother, Velen does not want you to walk that path... for this, he has defied his obedience to fate for the first time in his life. Please, do not betray his efforts!"

"In his eyes and yours, am I such a coward?" Kil'jaeden could no longer suppress his fire. He roared, "Even if that is my fate, I will never choose to flee! I am the leader of the Vigilant, Haddon! I am the protector of my people and my world! Now you ask me to sit by and watch my people be slaughtered by demons, and you want me to run away without a fight? Do you wish for me to be remembered in Eredar history as a coward? And how can you expect me to allow my brother to take that terrible future upon himself instead of me? Move aside! I know the Naaru ships carry escape pods. I will not take others; I will return alone! I have already made up my mind. Even if I die, I will die on the land that birthed and raised me. How can a leader die in a foreign land?"

"But this seemingly brave act is, in reality, an abandonment of your duties as High Exarch!" Haddon exploded. Ever since the fall of Krokuun, the governor had been consumed by self-reproach. With bloodshot eyes, he roared at Kil'jaeden, "Is dying so easy? I could strangle you right now, and I guarantee it would be painful and long! But you are not an ordinary person, Kil'jaeden! You are our leader! Now that our people are being sent to different worlds in the sea of stars to struggle and survive, preserving our final embers, this is exactly when we need you. Only you and Velen have the prestige and foresight to lead us. Returning to Argus is a beautiful vision for the future, but without you two, we cannot achieve such a difficult feat! You wish to satisfy your own personal honor and reputation, but at the cost of leaving your people to face unknown dangers in the cosmos alone? Wake up!"

"Slap!"

An angry strike landed on Kil'jaeden’s face. Haddon pointed to the people in the hall below and roared, "Look at them! Look at them, Kil'jaeden! Tell me, do you want to be a hero for one, or a hero for all? You cannot abandon your duty... I beg you."

Kil'jaeden wanted to retort, but as he looked at the Eredar in the plaza, they looked like a flock of sheep that had lost their shepherd. He could feel their confusion and pain without a word being spoken; the suffering each of them endured at this moment was no less than his own. Kil'jaeden felt as if his courage and the fire in his heart were being bound by rope after rope. He wished he were truly a heartless madman so he could make his choices without the burden of guilt. But alas, he was not. At least, not yet.

"You need to calm down," Haddon panted, urging him. "Through the connection between this ship and the Genedar docked at the Seat of the Triumvirate, we have maintained communication with the surface. Lord Talgath sent word hours ago that the evacuation of Mac'Aree is in its final stages. High Exarch Velen and the people of the Seat are boarding the Genedar, which is protected by the Naaru K'ure and L'ura. The civilians on the other side of the Eredath Sea have also begun their transfer under the protection of the great ship Tempest Keep. Everything is proceeding smoothly! The demons lack commanders and high-level power; their chaotic assaults cannot break the dual defenses raised by the Vigilant and the Naaru. If we are lucky, we can complete the total evacuation before the Dark Titan arrives on Argus."

"How much time is left before the thirty-day doomsday countdown ends?" Kil'jaeden asked. Haddon checked a timing gem-watch and said, "Only six hours remain. The Naaru on the ship have yet to detect any signs of the Dark Titan's approach. Perhaps... perhaps it was a deception?"

Kil'jaeden shook his head. He did not believe that the entity at the pinnacle of the physical universe would use a deception to frighten the Eredar.

He would come. At the very moment the countdown ended, he would surely...

"Report! Commander, we have discovered something strange on the surface!"

An arcanist acting as a temporary lookout rushed over in terror, pointing at the viewport. Both men rushed to the observation tower, where the crystalline console simulated the surface of Argus, now showing patches of deep green.

"It's a Fel storm! Like an energy tide sweeping across the entire world!" a one-armed high arcanist explained, his face pale. "Just now, the Fel concentration on the surface of Argus has spiked unreasonably. We cannot understand what has gone wrong, but the empowerment from the World-Soul is weakening. It seems some greater power is suppressing the resistance of Argus's World-Soul. Worst of all, Commander, look here!"

He magnified the projection, pointing to the Mac'Aree region. "The Fel resonance here has expanded a thousandfold in minutes! It is identical to the echoes of the Fel demigods we captured on the Antoran battlefield! They should be dead; they were slain by our bravest warriors! But they have appeared again! It makes no sense—as if they were instantly reshaped and resurrected from the Twisting Nether and dropped into our world, right near the Seat of the Triumvirate! At least seven Fel demigod echoes are pulsing, and the demons are rebuilding their offensive... In this state, High Exarch Velen and the last of our people will be annihilated before they can even board the evacuation ships."

Kil'jaeden stared at the dark green glow echoing on the light-beam, his fists clenched. "It is Him! The Dark Titan has arrived! He is the master of the Fel domain. If the Argus World-Soul can shape World-Guardian demigods, then He can just as easily dictate the resurrection process of demons in the Twisting Nether. That bastard! Hmm? What is happening? Why is the ship moving?"

The commander felt the ship vibrate violently. He rushed to the viewport and saw the gem-like ships that had been orbiting Argus one after another entering superluminal acceleration. Those ships turned into streaks of light in the dark cosmos, beginning their flight of escape in different directions.

Soon, Kil'jaeden received news. "The Naaru of this ship says they have received a warning from the Mother of Light, Xe'ra. She has completed the divination of their routes and ordered them to leave the Argus system immediately. She also said the Dark Titan's path of destruction through the stars has already extended here; his proximity has warped the physical laws of this sector, capturing all light, and our sun is even extinguishing! If we don't leave now, we never will!"

Haddon was sweating profusely. Upon learning that Velen and the last civilians might be wiped out, his resolve to return to the surface to support them was even more urgent than Kil'jaeden’s, for among those last civilians were the Talbuk-riding cavalry of Krokuun, his child Jaid, and another child, Dick. The Eredar could not bear the desperation of losing their High Exarch, nor could they allow their extreme self-rescue efforts to fail at the final hour.

"Tell that Naaru to pause; I wish to speak with it!" Kil'jaeden decided immediately. Escorted by Light-sworn and several Vigilant, he strode to the navigation deck. These ships were driven and navigated by the Naaru; thus, in transit, the Naaru remained there.

When Kil'jaeden arrived, the Naaru—whose body was wreathed in holy light but was a beautiful azure rather than gold—seemed to know why they had come. In that ethereal and lingering Naaru song, it spoke to Kil'jaeden: "As a scion of the Prime Naaru Xe'ra, while receiving the route divination sent by the Mother of Light, I also received a prophecy from her. That dark prophecy is for you, High Exarch Kil'jaeden of the Eredar."

"Oh?" Kil'jaeden looked at the holy being. "Then it is only fitting that I open this 'gift.' Let me see it."

"Hum." A beam of light shot from the Naaru’s rotating, graceful body, enveloping Kil'jaeden. It lasted only a few seconds, but Kil'jaeden’s expression became extraordinarily complex, his aura shifting from sharp, angry intensity into something more indescribable. No one knew what Kil'jaeden had seen in the Mother of Light's prophecy, but it was certain that it had changed him.

"So, must a High Exarch embrace this heavy fate?" Kil'jaeden asked in a hoarse voice. The Naaru did not answer, but its silence was deafening; the meaning was clear. The Dark Titan would surely take an Eredar leader as his lieutenant to carry out his grand work of destruction. If it were not Kil'jaeden, it would have to be Velen!

"If you leave this ship..." the Naaru whispered, "you will be abandoning all the efforts Velen has made to defy fate. As an outstanding prophet, the determination he has paid for this is beyond your imagination. Personally, I hope you do not betray this..."

"Enough!" Kil'jaeden cut the Naaru off. He raised his head and answered earnestly, "If the great man destined to shine for ages is not me, then I should send my brother to the center of the stage with a smile, then step back with satisfaction! Not like this, shamelessly stealing the glory he should have worn. My brother is the best prophet in the sea of stars! Does he not know what sending me away means? Does he not see this desperate future? To save me from a dark future, he is willing to sacrifice himself to cold fate! Ah, born in such a great world, having such steadfast kin, and having a brother like him by my side—what regrets could I have in this life? If my brother can make such a sacrifice for me, how should I repay his earnest hope? The Eredar need to recuperate; I am only skilled in battle and war. In this age of encroaching darkness, the people do not need a bellicose, angry, paranoid leader; they need a symbol of hope. They need Velen! More importantly, if Velen’s fall or death allowed me to survive, I cannot guarantee what terrible things I might do, shrouded in darkness and despair! If my fall can buy Velen’s survival... Prepare the escape pod! I am returning to my world! I will face my fate as a Commander of the Vigilant and High Exarch, to save my brother and protect my people! Haddon, will you stop me this time?"

"No, Commander Kil'jaeden." Governor Haddon took an ancient shaman totem from his adjutant and whispered, "It is not just you who has seen fate; I have also foreseen that tragic future. In reason and in heart, I cannot allow you to return to the battlefield alone. Please allow me to serve as your temporary adjutant and return with you to Mac'Aree to rescue our people and our prophet."

"Then let's go." Kil'jaeden didn't even bother to say another word to the Naaru. Although he was not entirely clear on the Mother of Light's ways, the fact that she sent such a prophecy at this moment carried a very obvious "hint." She did not wish for the established future she envisioned to be further disrupted... Hmm, in Dick's words, this legendary "Mother of Light" was probably just the kind of prophet who blindly followed prophecies.

The commander strode out of the navigation deck. The Light-sworn guards outside handed him his war-helm and weapons, and the last guard fastened his cloak. He walked toward the escape pod. It was a small craft, but designed for starship usage; theoretically, it could carry a small force back. Kil'jaeden stopped, looked at the civilians in the plaza who were watching him with worried eyes, and shouted:

"The demons and their master are about to arrive in our world! They want to trap High Exarch Velen and our kin in Mac'Aree. I cannot allow that to happen! I am returning to save the last of our people! This is a one-way trip, but as commander, I cannot go to the battlefield alone. So, warriors! I cruelly demand that you accompany me. All warriors who participated in the Demon War, step forward!"

"Swish!" Nearly a hundred men stepped out from the crowd immediately. Their families tried to hold them back, but they simply embraced their parents, comforted their wives, kissed their children one last time, and joined Commander Kil'jaeden’s ranks without hesitation. They knew it was a one-way trip... but like the spirits of those who lay buried on the plains of Krokuun and Antoran, their sacrifice was for the peace of many more.

"Commander, I was just a farmer before becoming an apprentice priest." A young Eredar approached, slightly embarrassed, carrying his two war-scythes. He said nervously to Kil'jaeden, "But I have had militia training, and I hope... I hope to..."

"Follow me, kid." Kil'jaeden nodded, patting the young man on the shoulder. "In the war against demons, power is the most insignificant link, and courage is the spear we thrust into the Dark Titan's heart... What is your name?"

"Akama, Commander! My name is Akama!" The young apprentice priest shouted, "I am from the Antoran Plains. I have seen with my own eyes what those demons did to our world, and I wish to fight them to the end!"

"Very well, Private Akama! Gather your courage and grip your weapons." Kil'jaeden led the warriors toward the escape pod, saying, "They say this thing moves fast when it hits the atmosphere, and we'll be packed in tight; I hope you don't throw up on me."

The joke drew smiles from the veterans. Amidst tears, silence, and blessings, they walked toward the "Gate of Glory" bestowed by fate. More and more people joined them—farmers, tailors, jewelers—people who had perhaps never fought a real battle, yet the surge of courage gave them endless fervor at this moment. They would make one final sacrifice for the world they were about to lose to darkness.

——————

"Oh, Light!"

The Seat of the Triumvirate was surrounded by an endless sea of demons. Velen, the spellcaster, was forced to the front lines, gripping his staff and engaging in fierce melee combat with the empowerment of the world's strength. Well, do not underestimate this old prophet's fisticuffs. He was a hero who had trained in the Jed'ni arts since childhood; rumor has it he even won the "Eredar Bare-Knuckle Wrestling Championship" in his youth. Although his combat techniques weren't as refined as Dick’s or Maldran’s on the front lines, common demons couldn't withstand a single punch from the old prophet.

However, the demon demigods resurrected by Fel-acceleration would not go easy on Velen. As he tried to call upon the Light to heal the surrounding warriors, a sinister sneer echoed, and the Dreadlord Tichondrius suddenly struck from the shadow of a warrior, his claws wrapped in swarms of foul insects dealing a heavy blow to the old prophet. Although he was driven back by an explosion of the Light a second later, Velen still clutched his chest in pain, the Demon Lord sneering.

"Ah, radiant Velen, that is the response to you burning me with your Light earlier! You! You are destined to belong to the Burning Legion! You will become the 'Defiler,' hahahaha, that is a title already bestowed upon you."

"Ha, Dick! Come here! Don't run! Come and die!"

The Doom Lord Kazzak was arrogant. He swung his sword of destruction, fiercely attacking Dick’s defensive line, determined to strangle this shameful Vigilant officer himself, lest his bravery be noticed by the soon-to-arrive Lord Sargeras and he be granted the gift of Fel. Uh, demons were vengeful and knew how to clear out "competitors" in advance.

"I must call upon the might of Argus." A pained Velen looked back at the Seat of the Triumvirate, which was still being defended behind him. The Genedar was docked in the residential area. Tens of thousands of people were waiting to be transferred, the shield raised by the Ata'mal Crystal used by L'ura holding against the demons' bombardment. The battlefield was ravaged by Fel-enhanced breakers. He knew he had to make a choice. It might consume his life, but Velen knew the moment of decision had arrived. Just as he grasped the Heart of Argus, Talgath beside him suddenly let out an exclamation.

"There is something in the sky... What is that? A bird? A meteorite?"

"No, that is a light... I defied fate, but Kil'jaeden also defied fate. Alas, my brother." Velen sighed. He had seen the truth—a Naaru escape pod was plummeting toward the battlefield at extreme speed like a meteorite. His brother, Kil'jaeden, had broken free from fate, or perhaps embraced it, at the cost of himself. As the dark age of the stars began, he transformed into a blinding streak of light, returning to the world he loved, returning to his brother's side.

"Boom!"

The falling escape pod struck the center of the battlefield like a heavy punch from fate, crushing the Doom Lord Kazzak, who was too big and too slow to dodge, leaving him half-crippled. In the Doom Lord's agonizing, frustrated roar, he saw Dick, empowered by the world's strength, dragging a decapitation axe meant for hunting giants with a blank expression. In his other hand, he held a spear made from Kazzak's own horns, walking toward him amidst the blazing fire of the Light. Countless demons tried to stop the "Butcher of Light" from approaching their beloved demon commander, but every demon that neared Dick was burned to ash in the explosions of the Light, leaving only a scorched and holy path of ash in his wake.

So bright, so terrifying, so ruthless, so insane!

Dammit! Is there no end to this? You’re just picking on me, aren't you? Dick Zastins! Are you even human anymore!?

But the entire battlefield fell silent for a moment due to this extreme descent, and no one even paid attention to the Doom Lord about to be decapitated by the same Eredar Vigilant for the second time. As the escape pod door was kicked open, war-scythes wreathed in Light flew out, striking the head of a Felguard. Amidst the demon’s dying wail, Kil'jaeden strode out of the damaged pod with sword and shield in hand, Akama following behind him with trembling legs.

"A brilliant raid, kid. Argus will remember your sacrifice." The commander, covered in vomit, complimented him with a straight face, making Akama, who had just claimed his first kill, give an awkward laugh. Then, Kil'jaeden raised his gem-encrusted sword high. As his aura surged under the world's empowerment, he shouted to the entire battlefield:

"Do not fear! Eredar, your commander has returned! Children, I am back... Eredar, keep fighting!"

He was answered by a brief silence followed by a counter-attack war cry that erupted like magma, like a mountain of waves. Even Dick, who had just finished off Kazzak for the second time, joined in, shouting Kil'jaeden's name as loudly as the other Eredar, even more fanatically, excitedly, and angrily. Look, that was their greatest commander!

Cold and ruthless fate laughed in Dick’s ear, about to reclaim a tragedy that would have made it swoon with desire. But for this moment, at least, Kil'jaeden was the true hero of this world!

Well, salute to you, Commander.

Ps: Many of you had fun with the Archon meme yesterday. Do you believe I’ll have the Archon distribute solar axes to you all so you can embrace the glory of battle? Ha, jokes aside, the "Immortal" setting really isn't me letting my imagination run wild. The Eredar really have this technology; even the Draenei in the Warlords of Draenor version had plenty of these eternal guards. Their bravest warriors would embrace their fate upon death, placing their souls into mechanical bodies to continue protecting their people. There are records of this in the Auchindoun dungeon descriptions; the Soulbinders under Maladaar are tasked with exactly this. It is said that Blizzard referenced Protoss culture significantly when designing the Draenei, and there are many hidden eggs paying tribute to each other in both games.

Back to why there is an appendix explanation in this chapter: I did consider letting Kil'jaeden and Velen fly off together or fall together, but unfortunately, the Burning Legion's advantage would have been too overwhelming. As many readers pointed out yesterday, logically speaking, if a hardline war-faction leader like Kil'jaeden led the Eredar away, they probably wouldn't have survived until Draenor; they would have joined the Army of the Light under his command and blown up Sargeras. He was too radical. While that would have been cool, this is fanfiction, and the Eredar arc is essentially the "hidden main line" of the Azeroth universe. Changing too much would mean discarding the original framework to write an original work, and my original work performance... well, suffice it to say, it’s better left unsaid. My current level cannot handle such drastic revisions from the start. I’ll try it if there's a chance in the future; after all, the DH hasn't been written yet, right? There’s still a chance.

Additionally, the controversial plot from yesterday has been modified. I apologize to the offended readers and will pay more attention to this in the future.