Chapter 226: The First Generation of Holy Paladins

It's happening! It's really happening!

Duke's heart nearly leaped out of his chest when Archbishop Alonsus Faol uttered those words.

He'd had enough of the Horde's seemingly endless supply of formidable warriors, feeling powerless against even a single one of them.

Consider these frustrating exchanges:

"I've got General Hel... Oh, I mean 'Roar Daddy' Hell Scream... I surrender!"

"I've got Blademaster Saurfang... I still surrender!"

"I've got the Doomhammer... I can only surrender!"

What kind of nonsense was that!?

It was an embarrassment. Were they implying the Alliance had no one strong enough to stand up to them?

Duke had always wanted to exploit the mages' agility to give the Horde chieftains a hard time. However, he knew all too well that the Horde's demigod warlock, Gul'dan, had already awakened. Not just Gul'dan, but all of the remaining warlocks were formidable enemies.

In the face of the two armies, Duke had little chance to bypass the warlocks and go straight for the chieftains.

But now everything was different.

Alonsus Faol, this brilliant name, was best known not for his holiness, but because he was the mentor of the first generation of the five paladins.

Four of those first-generation Holy Paladins, or rather, paladins, were monstrous talents who were incredibly strong. Throughout history, with the exception of one who only made the cut due to sheer luck, the other four made their mark.

Witnessing the birth of the first generation of paladins was truly exhilarating!

Duke, Llane, and Anduin all pricked up their ears.

"Do you remember the conversation we had when you first arrived in Lordaeron?" Faol paced before them.

"I remember. It was about the destruction of Northshire Abbey."

As he spoke, Faol's gaze grew somber: "I must admit, I was quite disheartened. If only I could have found a way for those monks to survive in this suddenly erupting war. Perhaps the Light's missionaries wouldn't have suffered such heavy losses."

Lothar nodded, sighing, "Indeed, the priest's path of the Light doesn't permit them to wear anything heavier than leather armor. Their thin cloth garments offer no protection against the might of the orcs. Even in full armor, we still appear weak compared to them, let alone the nearly defenseless priests."

Faol smiled, a genuinely happy smile: "As I pondered these issues, an idea suddenly appeared in my mind, as if the Light had granted me enlightenment."

"Did you find a way?" Lothar inquired.

"Indeed!" Faol clapped his hands: "I will establish a new branch of the church—Paladins. They will not only have devout faith but will also practice a great deal of combat skills. They will receive both combat and prayer training, as well as healing. These brave warriors will possess both military and spiritual abilities, particularly the power of the Light to bless themselves and others."

"Is that really possible?" Lothar was full of doubt, not believing that priests, who could only heal soldiers, could fight on the front lines.

Duke was almost tempted to remind Lothar of the two paladins they had seen in the palace.

Duke held back.

Faol smiled and made a blessing gesture. Lothar and the others saw a surge of holy power burst from Faol's radiant body, gathering above his head into a shining red seal.

Although the seal was brimming with power and an inexplicable majesty, the three of them simultaneously felt a sense of peace and tranquility, as an indescribable sense of happiness reverberated through their bodies.

"Is this the power of the paladin?" murmured Llane.

"Yes!" Alonsus Faol smiled.

Duke was impatient to ask, "Have you found suitable candidates?"

"Indeed, I have found four. Tomorrow morning you can meet them. However, if you have more suitable candidates, feel free to suggest them to me. I plan to personally initiate them into their sacred powers in Stratholme, the holy city, within a week."

At that moment, Duke was thrilled!

This wasn't some kind of cheap initiation from a pretender.

This was the initiation of the one and only Highlord of the Holy Light in the world of Azeroth!

Perhaps those four legendary individuals were already formidable before becoming paladins, but without initiation, there was a limit to their prowess. After initiation, their strength would skyrocket.

Recalling the 'history' when Uther led a mere twelve paladins to charge against tens of thousands of orcs, the mere thought of it made Duke's blood boil.

Llane, easily seeing the eagerness on Duke's face, also smiled, "Duke, you think highly of Father Faol's plan?"

"Yes! Absolutely! It's fantastic!" Duke praised without reservation, "I believe this will undoubtedly be a groundbreaking new force. Not only will I have my follower, Reginald Windsor, come to receive initiation, but I also strongly recommend Duke Fairbanks to join."

"Varian?" Llane appeared puzzled.

"Don't you think he is suitable, Your Majesty? Duke Fairbanks possesses unwavering faith, a just heart, and exceptional combat skills." Of course, in Duke's mind, Varian at this moment was far from being as capable as Anduin. Facing the chieftains of the Horde's great clans, Varian would still be delivering vegetables.

With Duke's suggestion, Llane and Anduin both thought it was a good idea.

Anduin asked, "If Varian comes here, who will watch over Southshore's army?"

Llane chuckled, "That, of course, would be my responsibility as the Alliance's commander." Having said that, Llane gently punched Lothar's chest. The unparalleled trust between the king and his subject was evident.

"You're too kind, Your Majesty."

Llane waved his hand, "Just take care of the orcs quickly, and reclaim our Stormwind City."

The next day, on October 13th, as the entire city was buzzing with the establishment of the Alliance, Lothar and Duke arrived at the main courtyard of the Lordaeron Cathedral. They had already finished breakfast and were waiting for Archbishop Faol to arrive. At the appointed time, the archbishop appeared, walking calmly towards them.

"I am truly grateful that you could accommodate this old man in your busy schedule." He turned around and beckoned, and four men emerged from the end of a nearby corridor, walking briskly toward Faol.

Duke's eyes lit up instantly.

The four burly men, each clad in shining armor, bore the emblem of the Church of the Holy Light on every part of their armor, their shields, and the tops of their helmets.

All of them wore a sword, and from their walking manner, ready to draw their swords at any moment, Duke could tell that they were, at the very least, skilled swordsmen.

The only problem was that the armor and weapons were all brand new. There were no signs of repair or wear and tear, let alone any stains.