Azeroth Monster Manual

Warlocks are a dangerous yet intriguing profession. Many say warlocks originated from another world, an evil profession brought by invaders to Azeroth.

But that's not the case. Dalaran had clear records of it during its early establishment thousands of years ago.

The abuse of magic would attract the prying eyes of otherworldly visitors, and the Council of Tirisfal was a secret organization that dealt with these messes, a secret well known among senior mages.

Some mages with a strong desire for knowledge discovered that these otherworldly visitors called demons had a fatal flaw, which made them ecstatic because as long as they knew the demons' true names, they could subdue these powerful demons for their own use.

So these mages began to study those forbidden knowledge, studying how to summon demons.

As the saying goes, diligence pays off. Using some of their own methods, they finally learned the true names and summoning methods of some weak demons. Thus, the prototype of the warlock was born.

Of course, these people didn't have good endings, because their ignorant actions caused even more terrifying disasters.

They summoned a powerful demon. Although with the help of the Council of Tirisfal, this demon was banished, Dalaran was almost destroyed by this demon lord's fel magic.

This also gave rise to the Guardian project of the Council of Tirisfal.

......

Recalling the origin of Azeroth's warlocks, watching Fordring struggling under the shadow magic of that death knight, El fell into deep thought.

"Old guy, is this the real reason you sent me here?"

Mages and the high-end combat power of humans were retreating under the attacks of warlocks and death knights, leaving a trail of corpses. The Alliance's small-scale battle was undoubtedly lost.

Lothar urgently convened a war meeting, but everyone was clueless about those unfamiliar death knights.

Just then, Archbishop Alonsus Faol from Northshire Abbey in Stormwind Kingdom brought exciting news. He received an enlightenment from the Holy Light and was preparing to create a brand new profession - the Paladin.

Hearing this news, El was even more certain of his guess.

'The old guy sent me here not to have me learn the teachings of the Holy Light, right? Wouldn't it be more convenient to directly possess Archbishop Faol? Why let me learn the Holy Light from Fordring's perspective?'

The young man pondered in his heart, but had no clue.

With such thoughts and questions, El and Fordring embarked on a brand new path.

Although humans formed an alliance, the armies of these kingdoms had great differences in customs and habits. To unite them, Lothar had to find warriors who could be recognized by everyone.

Perhaps priests were the most suitable candidates. They were courageous, but lacked combat training. These followers of the Holy Light were not enough to take on the important task of commander of the Lordaeron Alliance.

After hearing about the recent events, Archbishop Alonsus Faol proposed the establishment of an organization composed of people with noble character:

They should not only be proficient in using the power of the Holy Light, but also be able to charge into battle in traditional warfare, and at the same time, they should also possess outstanding leadership skills.

Later, this group of Holy Light warriors who possessed the three excellent qualities of loyalty, courage, and honor were called Paladins, and this organization was the Knights of the Silver Hand.

Tirion Fordring, standing in the cathedral, was a little nervous, and so were several of his friends and companions beside him:

Turalyon, who facilitated the birth of the Alliance;

Saidan Dathrohan, who was strong and powerful;

Tirion Fordring, who was enthusiastic and tenacious;

Uther, a Holy Light believer with outstanding combat power.

Piously kneeling on the ground, although not a believer with the power of the Holy Light, Fordring's faith in the Holy Light was no less than anyone else's.

"Honesty, compassion..."

"Valor, humility..."

"Justice, sacrifice..."

"Honor, soul!"

Fordring silently recited the eight virtues of a knight, which filled his heart with courage and strength.

Looking at Archbishop Faol's kind and radiant eyes, Tirion Fordring lowered his head in front of the old man as if guided by divine intervention.

"Take the oath, child."

Faol stretched out his left hand and placed it on Fordring's head.

Feeling the warm touch and the majestic energy on his head, Fordring actually shed tears. He trembled and said firmly:

"I, Tirion Fordring, hereby swear: From this day on, my heart is with the Holy Light, using sword and shield to protect the weak, and using the Holy Light to expel evil.

Humility, honesty, compassion, valor, justice, sacrifice, honor, soul...

Are the eight virtues that will never be forgotten. As long as there are people who need protection, we will not fall. The Holy Light will never cease, and the faith will never die!

Even if my heart stops beating, the honor in my heart and the Holy Light covering my body will never disappear!"

As the last prayer was spoken, golden flames ignited on Fordring's body. The companions behind him looked at the completely different Fordring with solemnity and surprise, and all knelt down piously.

"Child... we have the Holy Light, and the Holy Light surrounds us at all times.

The Holy Light gives us courage, gives us strength, gives us faith, helps us punish enemies, and save friends.

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You must make good use of this power, and don't let your soul be dusted."

Faol sprinkled the holy water in the bottle on Fordring's head, stared into Fordring's eyes, and said the most sincere blessings.

Clearly looking at Fordring, El always felt that this wise old man was looking at himself.

"I swear that I will never betray the Holy Light in this life!"

As the ceremony ended, Fordring stood up and said loudly with excitement.

"Child... the Holy Light is there, it is a fire, rooted in your heart. As long as you don't betray your heart, the Holy Light will always bless you."

"A fire..."

El also felt the Holy Light infusion just now. Although he couldn't speak or control Fordring's body, his perception was connected to Fordring's. He could feel the warm and fiery energy.

"Damn it, I knew this old dragon didn't have good intentions. Letting a researcher believe in the Holy Light? Isn't this nonsense?"

Although he slandered in his heart, El still tried hard to feel the Holy Light energy in Fordring's body.

......

The war continued. Being with strategists and military experts like Lothar and Turalyon, El also benefited a lot. He not only made up for his shortcomings in commanding troops, but also learned the combat experience of those veterans.

It is no exaggeration to say that these twenty years of God's perspective have allowed El to gradually mature from a young leader, which also laid the groundwork for some of his future deployments.

On this day, the day of the final battle finally arrived. The old Horde was forced to Blackrock Mountain in the Burning Steppes.

'Thump'

With Lothar's fall, all the Alliance soldiers collectively lost their voices. Just now, that butcher, executioner, Orc Warchief Orgrim, in a fair duel, cut off Marshal Lothar's sword. The admired Marshal Lothar... sacrificed himself.

Turalyon and Uther suppressed the grief and anger in their hearts and led the Alliance army to launch a counterattack.

Fordring knelt on one knee, took out the Retribution Holy Book he carried with him, which was a gift from Teacher Faol to their five original Paladins.

After praying, the sadness on Fordring's face had disappeared.

"Knights! Follow me to charge!"

Mounting his beloved horse and raising his two-handed hammer, Fordring no longer hesitated or felt confused. At this moment, he was full of power, and under the shroud of golden flames, he looked like a god of war.