Resurgence of the Light ch 15

Sylvanas and her rangers fled through the crumbling tunnels of the Nerubian kingdom as debris and dust rained down around them. The explosion, designed to trap the remaining Nerubians and ensure their tunnels could not be easily restored, threatened to swallow them as well.

Sylvanas briefly questioned whether she had triggered the explosion too soon, but the risk of being tampered with by Nerubian forces made the decision a necessary one. She only hoped they would reach safety in time.

A silver lining amid the chaos was that the Nerubians, too, were fleeing. Their death cries echoed as they were crushed beneath falling rocks and debris. Sylvanas pressed forward, urging her rangers to follow her.

But as she took her next step, the ground beneath her gave way, and she found herself plummeting into a seemingly bottomless abyss. Her rangers tried to reach out and save her, but she was already too far from their grasp.

"Run, you fools!" Sylvanas shouted, her voice echoing in the underground chamber as she disappeared into the darkness below.

Falling – was this how she would meet her end? No, she refused to accept it. Desperation and panic swelled within her. She needed to find a way out, and she focused all her strength on doing so. If only she could fly!

Then, a strange sensation overcame her, and she looked to her side to see that the earth around her was falling, but she remained suspended in the air. It was as though some unseen force held her aloft.

Summoning all her determination, Sylvanas rose slowly, unsteadily, levitating upwards. But the ceiling above the hole she had fallen through began to split and crumble, sending an enormous section of rock hurtling toward her. She was trapped.

"Aghhh!" Sylvanas screamed in a mix of anger, fear, and frustration. In her desperation, she tapped into a power she hadn't accessed since her time as a banshee, a power that had been lost when she was transformed by the Light. Now, she was no longer a mass of darkness but of pure Light.

Her newfound power helped her escape this death trap. Sylvanas surged forward, flying through the crumbling tunnel, and even caught up with her rangers. She touched each one, allowing them to transform as well, and they all emerged through the entrance they had used earlier.

Landing safely some distance away, they watched the ground continue to quake and tremble, with more and more of it sinking into the expanding hole. Sylvanas frowned. The immense size of the Nerubian kingdom was working against them, making it impossible to fill the colossal hole they had created.

Then, a surprise – the nearby mountain was shifting, beginning to sink. Sylvanas couldn't help but smirk. But as her eyes narrowed with a trace of suspicion, she pulled out the last of the orbs that had been given to her.

Studying the orb and the descending mountain for a moment, a plan began to take shape in her mind. She turned to her rangers. "Stay here; I will be back." With that, she transformed once more and flew toward the base of the mountain.

The rangers were left in silence, exchanging uncertain glances as they watched their lady take flight. They waited patiently for her return.

Some time later, Sylvanas touched down near her rangers. The mountain had ceased moving, and her suspicions were confirmed. But she wasn't concerned; her plan was already in motion.

Sylvanas wore a smirk as she raised her hand and snapped her fingers, invoking the magic of the last orb. A deafening explosion rocked the earth as the mountain began to crumble and topple. Satisfaction filled her as she watched the mountain fill the enormous hole left by the Nerubians' kingdom.

Perfect. While it wouldn't eliminate the Scourge's presence entirely, it would significantly delay their attempts to rebuild the tunnels. Time was on their side now. Sylvanas turned to her rangers, who stood in silent awe.

Their lady had once again proven her cunning and resourcefulness. She didn't need their praise; the satisfaction of a well-executed plan was enough. Wordlessly, she led her rangers back to their landing zone, their steps filled with determination and renewed purpose.

~~~~

Uther bashed another undead in the chest, grimacing as it fell apart, some of its remains splashing on him. Ever since they made landfall, it had been a constant battle. Both on land and at the ships, the undead had deployed fliers attempting to sink the ships, which now served as a resting place for those too tired before returning to the field of battle.

He himself had taken a rest, as had all others, except one. One who was responsible for them not being overrun completely. One who stood as an immovable object and an unstoppable force: The Light's Chosen.

After destroying the sinkholes from which the first wave of undead had poured at them, he had chosen a spot to stand and remained there, radiating power and stability. Bathed in his power, not a single one of their numbers had fallen. Even those that had fallen rose once more.

If the Scourge were not simply mindless wretches, the sight of a knight cleaved in half rising to his feet and striking down his attacker would shatter any morale the attacking force had. No doubt the necromancers overseeing this attack were fuming at being denied, also fearing failure, which would elicit punishment from their master.

Thinking of Arthas soured Uther’s mood, and he felt a surge of annoyance at having to deal with this rabble. He called upon the Light; enough was enough. The fools should have understood by now that they would not be stopped, and that throwing these corpses at them would achieve nothing.

It was time Uther showed them this, borrowing inspiration from the Light’s Chosen. Uther began to emanate Light, channeling it intensely. Motes of Light gathered above him, and he advanced. All the undead that stood before him were destroyed in a rain of Light spears.

The Light had shown him where his current enemy hid; he would take care of it. The further he stepped away from the Light’s Chosen and his aura of power, the more clearly he felt the sheer corruption of this land. It only strengthened his resolve to purge it of its corruption. Men and women stood beside and behind him. They all advanced as one; it seemed the necromancers had surmised their purpose, and the undead focused on them.

But it was too late for that.

With every step he took, his resolve grew; with every undead that fell, his determination was strengthened. He was Uther the Lightbringer, and it was time he lived up to it.

Raising his mace, he poured Light into it. Before long, sparks emanated from it due to the contained power. As he crested the hill, his target was in sight: a ziggurat, the residence of the necromancers controlling the attacking undead.

With a firm grip on the mace, he assumed a strong, wide stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He swung the mace overhead, building momentum with each rotation. As he felt the weight of the weapon in his hands, he calculated his target with a focused gaze. With precise timing, he released the mace, launching it toward his target. The mace sailed through the air, leaving a trail of Light.

Once it struck the ziggurat, there was a moment of silence before it exploded in a burst of Light. A dome expanded from the place of origin, destroying all undead caught in it.

When the Light subsided, nothing remained of the ziggurat or the surrounding undead. It was a taste of what was to come; he, or rather they, would not stop until all taint of the Scourge was cleansed from this world.

Giving one last gaze across the land, Uther turned and began to walk back toward the main force. The men and women who had protected him, allowing him to destroy the ziggurat, dealt with any roaming undead that bothered them during the return trip.

~~~~

Uther’s actions had bought them a reprieve, during which they hurried to construct a more permanent base. In fact, the Scourge had inadvertently assisted them in doing so, as the sinkholes had allowed access to materials for their construction.

Now, as walls and the keep were taking shape around him, Uther allowed some of the weight to fall from his shoulders, allowing a breath of relaxation to escape him. While they were still harassed by the undead, the attacks were mere paltry annoyances rather than genuine threats. In fact, now that he wasn't constantly battling to exhaustion, Uther allowed a thought that had been lingering in the back of his mind to resurface.

Where had Sylvanas and her rangers departed? He had overheard the Light’s Chosen granting her permission to leave, yet the question remained: where had she gone?

Another matter to consider was the massive earthquake they had felt not long ago. Thankfully, none of the tunnels had collapsed on top of their workers, but the event had startled them significantly. For most, the worst they had to worry about were scrapes and bruises from loose rocks and dust covering them.

Uther’s brows furrowed. Could Sylvanas be responsible for the earthquake? He had no doubt in his mind that she was deployed to destroy a target, one that had been deemed important enough to be dealt with upon their arrival, no less.

In any case, his questions would soon be answered, as a scout had reported seeing Sylvanas and her rangers returning. It seemed even the Light’s Chosen was interested in their findings, for the first time since coming to this land, he had moved from his spot. Not even the keep being built literally around him could sway him.

A snort escaped Uther; Tirion was right – as imposing as ever, that one. Still, seeing Sylvanas walk inside and turn toward the Light’s Chosen made him move in that direction as well.