In short, please unleash your holy fist upon the enemy! Loyalty!

"Bang, bang."

Just as the potion of heaven-knows-what effects was about to be forced down Dick's throat, two perfectly timed muffled thuds echoed through the room.

Thal'kiel the Stalker appeared by the bedside, wielding a gem-encrusted blackjack. With a swift motion, he snatched the vial that had slipped from Salara's hand. Before the two girls, dazed from the blow, could react, the "Five Little Toughs" burst through the door and dragged them out with prepared chains and ropes.

Ymira, the "tail-ender" of the group, was the most excited. She bound the mouths of the wicked twins with rope—a technique that looked brutal but was, in fact, a refined method to prevent them from chanting spells for self-rescue. It was a standard "spell-breaker" tactic explicitly recorded in the Vindicator Academy’s tactical manual. Judging by her beaming expression, it was clear that the "personal grievances" between the academy’s underachievers and overachievers ran deep.

"A third-stage extract mixed with a hint of Starlight Radiance, prepared with an incredibly delicate technique into a top-tier assassination potion. This is definitely a classic formula from the Assassins' Court." Thal'kiel identified the potion's origin after only a few sniffs. He capped the vial, shook it, and watched as the liquid inside shimmered with illusory starlight. He looked at Dick with a mocking gaze and shook his head. "You really are 'blessed,' kid. High-level toxins like this are typically used by the Assassins' Court for the secret execution of high-profile targets who need to 'die suddenly' of natural causes. You won't die immediately; instead, you’ll feel mentally rejuvenated for a short time. Once the toxin accumulates to a certain level, it claims your life through sudden heart and brain failure. The best part is, even the finest priest wouldn't be able to detect the cause of death."

"Archimonde is truly ruthless," Vindicator Mal'dran, who had witnessed the entire scene, said with an expression of disgust. "Diakom has served him well, even risking his life to retrieve intelligence for him. Yet, out of pure lust for power, he wants to silence his follower, even stooping so low as to order the brightest students of the Arcane Academy to carry it out. Whether judged by the reputation of a leader of spellcasters or the duties of an academy headmaster, he is utterly unqualified! I truly believe Diakom's accusations against him now. Allowing such a hypocritical and malicious person into the upper echelons of Argus's government is a gross dereliction of duty toward the people."

"Yet, it is not up to you or me to decide. I must report all of this to the two Triumvirs," Thal'kiel said, dismissing the sentiment. The Eredar civilization was glorious and ancient, but only those who dwelled in the shadows of history knew how much filth existed in the dark corners of their society. The power struggles between arcane mages and Holy Light priests over the right to define faith had buried countless souls over the past millennium. Wherever there is power, there is strife. Archimonde was merely another ambitious climber, and the fact that he could be countered by a small fry like Diakom suggested that Archimonde was not even the most brilliant schemer Argus could produce.

"The Seat of the Triumvirate will make a decision soon. Vindicator Mal'dran, you must properly protect Diakom, our key witness, in the coming days. Do not act rashly until the Commander makes his decision. I will also invite a trusted high priest to treat your injuries, Captain Diakom. Just focus on your recovery for now." Thal'kiel swapped back into his scholar’s robes, gave a few final instructions, and departed the Arcane Academy, riding his flying ray into the night.

Vindicator Mal'dran informed Dick that he needed to go settle his family. He had brought them to the Arcane Academy, perhaps fearing that the chaos sparked by the Awakener cult in Eredath would threaten their safety. In that regard, Mal'dran was a standard believer in the Light—caring for his family, valuing order, protecting the weak, and upholding justice. Becoming friends with such a man was undeniably comforting.

"I recall you have a son and a daughter?" Dick asked, leaning on his war spear as he escorted Mal'dran to the gate. He communicated through the telepathic link of his mind's eye: "In Eredar society, where reproduction is difficult, families with two heirs like yours are quite rare. Perhaps this is the Light’s reward for you."

"I believe so, too." Mentioning his children brought a smile to the usually stern Vindicator. He mounted his Talbuk and said softly, "I have always considered my little Maraad and little Leira the greatest gifts the Light has bestowed upon me. Perhaps, after you survive this crisis, you should try to find your own emotional anchor and start a family. Although for immortals like the Eredar, romance and reproduction are often seen as unnecessary burdens, believe me—being a husband and a father is a memory you will cherish for eternity. Get some rest. I will return at dawn."

With that, the old Vindicator pulled the reins and vanished into the evening shadows of the academy, leaving Dick standing there in surprise for a long time.

*Maraad and Leira? Could it be the 'Maraad' from my memories? Even though the 'Uncle' storyline has been retconned in the main history of the Dark Portal, he is at least someone who can stand center-stage alongside Velen in the Draenei racial lore.* Dick looked back at the "Five Little Toughs" guarding the prisoners and mused, *If these five youngsters are all S-tier prodigies, then Maraad, who is currently just a kid, will undoubtedly become an SSR-tier leader in the future. To put it loosely, he could even be called one of the symbols of the Draenei. It’s just a pity about little Leira; I wonder if she will face the same tragic fate in the future?*

With these thoughts, Dick walked over to the five young recruits. They were on high alert; for novices, "catching assassins" sounded thrilling. The tightly bound twins were bruised and bloodied, their mouths stuffed with rope, emitting only muffled whimpers.

*Arcane Twins in Distress and Confinement, eh?* Dick thought. Their magical items had been confiscated by Ymira. Without the ability to perform the "ventriloquism spellcasting" known only to high-level casters, they were truly trapped.

"Salara and Oreses are acknowledged geniuses of the Arcane Academy, Captain Diakom, but they have a terrible reputation," Ymira, the academy's well-known "big sister," explained to Dick and her four companions. "Ever since they entered the academy, they’ve broken records in every spellcasting exam. They were quite the stars. Not long ago, they were even selected as junior students to undergo a personal test by Headmaster Archimonde. It’s rumored that the Headmaster greatly admired their magical talent and their unique psychic bond. There’s gossip that even though they are years away from graduation, they have already been promised the 'Distinguished Graduate' medal."

She paused, then added, "It’s not just the resentment of an underachiever like me—they are incredibly arrogant. They frequently hog the best practice arenas under the guise of training, and they often use 'wager duels' to forcibly seize magical artifacts from other students. Even in an Arcane Academy known for its aggressive style, they are among the most ruthless. Oh, and one more thing..."

Ymira glanced nervously at Dick's expression before whispering, "They and some of their 'bad sister' friends allegedly used magic to spy on you while you were bathing."

"?" Dick raised an eyebrow, stunned. He stared blankly at Ymira, only to hear her add in a strange tone, "Because of your strange nickname, 'Holy Spear'... and it’s said they were all terrified that day..."

"Haha!" Faria, who was listening in, couldn't hold back a laugh, but she quickly stiffened her expression after a sharp jab in the back from Tramon. The five youths trying to suppress their laughter severely ruined the gravity of the scene, but Dick could only sigh in helplessness. It wasn't his fault he carried a large spear, right?

"Do you want to interrogate them?" Ymira asked, concerned. "Or... execute them?"

"I am not that cruel, and the Light does not teach us to act that way," Dick replied mentally. "They are merely two students with a history of bad behavior; how great a crime can that be? They were used by an ambitious schemer like Archimonde due to vanity and ignorance, leading them astray. Their fate will be decided by inquisitors after this storm ends. Keep them locked up in the room next door for now. Get some rest, children; we continue training in the coming days. I have already relayed the vital information to Commander Kil'jaeden and General Elodus; I trust they will reach a sound resolution. Don't worry! The shadow woven by Enlightener Xal'atath and Headmaster Archimonde cannot harm anyone else. You will participate in this and witness their end. This will become a glorious chapter in your newly begun careers as Vindicators."

He waved them off and went into his room to pretend to rest, while actually attempting to call upon the Light to seek new moral clarity, hoping to unlock his sealed professional skills. To be honest, in the current situation, Dick felt a lack of security as long as his strength as a high-ranking Vindicator remained unrestored. The twins' assassination attempt was only the first step; who knew if Archimonde would send even more powerful assassins, or even do it himself? If it came to that, Dick would be forced to fight to the death just to maintain his dignity. Excluding sneak attacks, even ten of him combined probably couldn't take down Archimonde, who was still just a "weakling" at this stage.

The next morning, as the Five Little Toughs were preparing to challenge the "Demon Trial" again, Vindicator Mal'dran arrived with a high priest riding a tall elekk. He introduced the visitor to Dick: "This is Lady Ishana, a high priestess from the Temple of Larah. She has come at the invitation of Lord Thal'kiel to treat your injuries."

Dick felt a jolt in his heart. The Temple of Larah was a sacred sanctuary dedicated to the Naaru. Over a thousand years ago, current Triumvir Velen had accidentally awakened the Ata'mal Crystal, a holy relic found by the Eredar in ancient times, causing two Naaru to descend from the heavens. This forged an unbreakable bond between the Eredar and the Naaru, those sacred and pure beings of Light. And the Ata'mal Crystal itself had been found in the mountains of Mac'Aree by the legendary "Ancestral Wizard Ougurei." It could be said that the Eredar's connection with the Light was forged at the very birth of their civilization.

However, Dick knew that the Naaru's arrival wasn't entirely for the purpose of "guiding" the Eredar; the story was complicated. Regardless, the Naaru were the most effective conduits for the teachings of the Light in Eredar civilization, viewed by the Eredar as the "Will of the Light." The Naaru K'ure and Larah had remained on Argus for millennia, answering questions and imparting the power of the Light to Eredar priests and Vindicators in their respective temples.

Undoubtedly, the Naaru were the symbols of faith for the Eredar at this stage, and the high priestess before him served Larah, proving her status was high and prestigious. Would such a person really be invited by a mere assassin leader like Thal'kiel to treat a security captain? Dick didn't believe a word of it.

He looked at the gentle Lady Ishana and bowed with the humility expected of a Vindicator, but inwardly, he was on high alert. He felt this might be a test, possibly coming directly from Commander Kil'jaeden or Triumvir Velen. After all, his whistleblowing directly involved the prestigious Enlightener and the high-ranking Archimonde. If these two were implicated, it would certainly cause a public outcry in Eredar society, so it was understandable that the two Triumvirs would want to ensure everything was in order. If there were some "filth" inside Dick, it would certainly not escape the notice of a legendary high priestess who served the Naaru.

*Ah, who said these Light-wielders were straightforward? They seem quite cunning to me.* Dick sighed internally, but he remained calm, not fearing the priestess's secret examination. He had no "filth" within him; if anything, the translucent light screen that always hovered before his eyes might have some "origin," along with his soul from another realm. However, since Archimonde's personal memory search had been blocked by the "Veil of the Beyond," Dick trusted that this priestess was not more skilled in magic than Archimonde, the universally acknowledged genius.

"Do not be nervous, Vindicator Diakom," Priestess Ishana said in Dick's room, setting up an exquisite gem incense burner and placing several other materials for mental tranquility nearby. Her tone was gentle as she explained to the seated Dick: "I learned of your injuries from Lord Thal'kiel before coming. Because the injury to your throat is so critical, using the Light for cauterization will cause extreme pain, which might lead you to hurt yourself while you are still weak. Therefore, I need to hypnotize you. Please do not worry; this is a normal part of the treatment. I have brought medicine blessed by Lady Larah, which will restore your strength and vitality in a short time while dispelling the curse upon you. The treatment will last several hours, and the hypnosis is merely to allow your mind to rest. I can see just by looking at you that you have been under immense pressure."

"I trouble you, Priestess Ishana," Dick replied mentally. "I am a Vindicator, and I have taken the Vindicator's oath. I believe in the Light and follow the teachings of the commandments. You are my sister in faith, and I would never doubt you."

"Good. I will not betray your trust. Now, take a deep breath." Ishana lit the incense and picked up a pendant polished from a radiant gem. After infusing it with a touch of the Light, she swung it before Dick's eyes. As Dick's gaze turned vacant, Ishana picked up her healer's staff and began to cast.

At that moment, the translucent light screen before Dick's eyes flickered with runes, indicating it was still operational:

[External power connected... Analyzing power path... Determined as: Holy Light Prime·Healing System·High-Level Heal/High-Level Restoration/Prayer of Mending·Energy Recovery/Mass Dispel/Power Word: Fortitude being applied. This power is determined to be harmless. Do not worry. Warning! Caster 'Ishana, Legendary Priest/High Priestess/Master Jeweler' is casting 'Soothe Mind' and 'Mind Control.' 'Veil of the Beyond' status is active! Caster 'Ishana' cannot peek into content she should not see.]

The appearance of this text allowed the worried Dick to relax instantly. He felt his mind grow weary and then drift into a sweet, deep sleep.

Outside, under the watchful, somewhat helpless and ashamed gaze of Vindicator Mal'dran, Lady Ishana adjusted her hand seals. She looked at Diakom, who had fallen into a hypnotic trance, and asked in the gentlest voice possible: "Now, tell me, Vindicator Diakom, what exactly did you experience alongside Archimonde and Xal'atath?"

"He... threatened me! He used the favor of his mentorship to coerce me! He wanted me to infiltrate the dangerous Xal'atath; he wanted me to be his eyes to spy on the rebellion plot of the Enlightener and the Awakener cult. He hoped to gain merit, to climb to a high position by stepping on the head of the mentor who had groomed him and treated him like a son. The power of Headmaster of the Arcane Academy was not enough for him; he hoped to stand alongside the noble Commander Kil'jaeden and the merciful Triumvir Velen to share the highest power of the Eredar. To achieve this, he would sacrifice anyone, and I was just the first... They discovered me! They sent demonic minions and Man'ari. Blades stained with fel energy cut my throat. Pain... death... Ah!"

Dick spoke these words intermittently, letting out a painful cry as he recalled the assassination that night. Vindicator Mal'dran couldn't bear to watch and reached out to stop her: "Enough! High Priestess, you are forcing Diakom to relive the most painful experience of his life. Is this really treatment? Why would a sister of faith from the Naaru Temple participate in such 'interrogation'?"

"This is one of our duties, Brother Mal'dran," Ishana said, maintaining the spell. She spoke in a low voice: "You have not discovered the true predicament Brother Diakom is suffering. He has lost the favor of the Light; his moral compass is shattered. Perhaps it is precisely because he has experienced such painful events that he has developed doubts about his faith. The Light no longer responds to him. This is the mental pain that must be healed. I am helping him, not interrogating him. You should know that the Light teaches us that the best way to face fear is to confront it, not to escape it."

"Ah?" Hearing Priestess Ishana's answer, Mal'dran finally realized Dick's predicament. No wonder Diakom hadn't used the Light to heal himself in the past few days. It wasn't that he didn't want to—it was that he couldn't! The old Vindicator sighed, "Anyone who has experienced death, only to be betrayed by their superior and sent assassins, would have doubts about life and faith. I do not blame him."

"Indeed, he has not been crushed by the weight of fate, but has firmly chosen to confront evil. That alone proves Brother Diakom's courage," Priestess Ishana nodded approvingly. "With such courage, I believe it is only a matter of time before he regains his moral compass. But his past morals are shattered, and his Vindicator's oath has been rendered void. Brother Diakom needs to undergo a new choice of heart and will. He needs to prove himself and find the path back to true faith through the eruption of his courage. No one can help him with this. Since it is a knot in his heart, only he can untie it. The merciful Light never abandons anyone; its brilliant radiance blooms for all that is good in the world, but he must actively call upon it for the Light to bestow its blessings upon him again. He must re-examine his inner self! He must find the vows that bind him and the path he is willing to persist in for a lifetime, just as a warship moving through a storm needs the guidance of a lighthouse in the darkness. Our Brother Diakom is currently lost in the sea of darkness; he needs to relight that spark."

*Huh? Is that how it works?* Dick, who was under mind control but remained rational, heard every word of the conversation between Priestess Ishana and Mal'dran. Through their words, he finally understood the correct interpretation of the Light's moral code.

*This Light is truly the most idealistic of the six primal forces,* Dick thought with a mental scoff. *Fel energy only needs infusion, Void craves an embrace, Life evolves on its own, Arcane blindly follows authority, Death is the simplest—just give yourself or someone else a stab. Only this Light... requires setting a vow from the heart and finding a path to persist in for a lifetime. How does this feel like a monk taking vows? But here is the problem: as a soul who has crossed into a foreign realm, what kind of goal should I choose to persist in for a lifetime? Well, it is certainly worth a good think.*