The assembled knights and foot soldiers shouted angrily when they saw Tirio emerge from the anxiously waiting crowd. The former paladin struck quickly and vigorously, and he scattered the frightened infantrymen with one blow. Several guards rushed at him, but Tirio hammered his old long-handled hands in a wide arc. Taking care not to use lethal force, Tirio pushed a dent in one guard's breastplate, breaking the facial armor of another's helmet. Seeing that he had earned himself precious seconds, Tirio jumped onto the scaffolding and headed straight for Bathoras.

The young paladin was startled when he saw Tirio rushing towards him. He fumbled awkwardly with his hammer, but Tirio was too fast.

He slammed his shoulder into Bathras's guts, which caused the young paladin to roll violently and sway off the platform. Buthras landed with a loud thud, nearly trampled on by the angry crowd.

The hunchman with a turban rushed forward to subdue Tirio, but the former paladin did not budge. Grabbing the hangman by his arm, Tirio threw him over his shoulder, flipping him over and down on the steps of the scaffolding. He could hear the knights and foot soldiers rushing up the steps behind him. They would have hanged him for it, he thought madly. Even the Lightbringer himself would not forgive such an offense as Tirio.

As fast as he could, Tirio ran to Itrigue's side to undo the noose around the orc's neck. Weakened to stand, Atreig fell heavily into Tirio's arms. The orcs could barely recognize the face of his savior.

"Humans?" Itreg grunted in surprise. Tirio smiled at him.

"Yes, Itrig," Tirio said. "It's me. Itreig shivered from pain and excessive weakness, but looked at Tirio with hazy eyes.

"You must be insane," said the old orc. Tirio smiled at himself and nodded in agreement. He turned, just in time to see Bathras climb onto the edge of the scaffolding. Tirio knew that the knights and infantry were only a few seconds away. Bathras straightened up and glared at him.

"Traitor! You're cursing yourself today!" The young paladin shouted. The frightened crowd shouted in support and threw trash at Tirio and Itreig.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tirio could see Lord Dasohan looming in a hidden place. Obviously, he didn't leave after all. The expression of the lord commander was one of sadness and disgust. Tirio wanted some way to make his old friend understand what he had been doing, and for the sake of honor, he had always done it.

Bathras shouted for the knights to capture Tirio and the orc. When they came up, Tirio opened his hand and ordered them to stop. He had spent his life leading people to war, and his deep voice still had the oppressive force of command. Many of the knights, who had previously served under him, found themselves overwhelmed by his presence. Tirio confronted them boldly.

"Listen to me!" Tirio shouted. His voice rumbled over the crowd and was echoed by the surrounding buildings. Many of the onlookers were incredibly silent. "This orc didn't do anything to hurt you! His death will serve no purpose!" The knights with a sense of honor hesitated for a moment, considering Tirio's objection.

"But it's an orc! aren't we fighting his people?" One of the knights shouted suspiciously. Tirio steadied himself and grabbed Itreg tighter.

"We are! But this one's war days are over!" Tirio said. "It is dishonorable to hang such a defenseless creature. He saw a few knights nodding reluctantly. Other bystanders still believe that the original view has not been convinced. They continue to taunt Tirio as a traitor who loves orcs.

"You don't even deserve to talk about honor, Tirio," Basshras scolded angrily. "You're a rebellious bastard, you deserve to die by that savage brute!"

Tirio twitched. Bathras's words struck him like a slap in the face. "I swore a long time ago to protect the weak and the defenseless," Tirio squeezed the words out of his clenched teeth, "and I'm going to do it now." You see, child, that's what it's really like to be a paladin - to know the difference between right and wrong, and to be able to distinguish between justice and revenge. You never made that distinction, could you, Bathoras?" Tirio asked. Baseras was almost speechless with rage.

Above the clamor of the shouting crowd, a drum rumble rang out, loud and clear. Itreig's tired head jerked instantly. He glanced around the square, as if expecting a familiar sight, and lowered his head again. Tirio looked at the orc suspiciously, convinced that the orc recognized the strange drumming sound. A few onlookers began to look for where the drums were coming from, but Basshras didn't care at all. The young paladin clenched his fists and walked over to Tirio.

"Have you forgotten so quickly, Tirio, you're no longer a paladin! you're a man of shame—an exile! no matter what you think or believe, it doesn't matter!" Bathras shouted.

"Hell, Bathoras, you need to keep your eyes open!" Tirio said urgently. "I have ruled the whole Hearthvale for so many years, and one thing I am sure of is that war will only lead to war! If we cannot control our hatred, then the pointless struggle will never stop! Then there will never be a future for our people!"

Bathras sneered contemptuously at Tirio.

The strange drumming sounded louder, accompanied by a new, stronger drum beat. It was then that most of the onlookers began to realize the inauspicious drumming. They were frightened to notice that the nervous sound was approaching. Several of the women and children present began to cover their ears and huddle tightly together in fear and panic. The guards present moved around the square, looking for anything that caused the constant drumming.

"The future of our people is no longer your concern," Basselas said coldly. "I rule the Valley of the Hearth now, Tirio. As long as I'm here, I swear that there will be no peace with the orcs!With the souls of my parents who have died, I swear that every orc left in the kingdom of Lordaeron will suffer for what they have done!"

Tirio was frightened by Bassoras's words. The young paladin is completely unreasonable. He had completely surrendered himself to anger and sorrow.

The thunderous sound of drums reverberated through the terrified plaza as Bathras ordered his troops to attack.

"Kill the orc now! Kill them both!" He shouted angrily. His shout was cut short as a rough, razor-sharp javelin burst through his chest. Batheras's blood splattered sideways onto the gallows, as a large number of blurred figures jumped from the surrounding rooftops and entered the plaza. Furious shrill war cries filled the air, and ferocious orcs stormed Stratholme's guards unaware. The powerful war drums thundered through the panic-controlled square.

Tirio sat down on the ground in shock, as Buthras fell to the ground in a daze. Instinctively, he rushed to help the young paladin, but Bathhras scolded him and waved at him in disapproval.

"This is the calamity you have brought upon us," said the young paladin with a shudder, blood pouring out of his mouth. His furious, hateful eyes locked on Tirio. "I always knew you were going to betray ......," were all he reluctantly said, and then he collapsed face down on the blood-soaked scaffolding. The crude orc javelin rose straight up from his back, like the mast of a ship.

Tirio immediately gathered his senses. He threw down his two-handed hammer and pulled Atreek up for him to put his feet on the ground. Leaning the heavy orc on his shoulder, Tirio left the gallows with Itreig. Tirio couldn't imagine how the orc forces had managed to get past the city's outer defenses. In particular, orcs always come to raid their targets from the front. However, as he watched the battle unfold around him, he saw that the sneaky orcs had been taking advantage of the rooftops and the narrow passages that surrounded them.

The knights and infantry ran forward to meet the onslaught of the orcs, and the whole public square erupted like hell. Tirio kept his head down, walking towards the inconspicuous street he had used earlier. The sound of steel clashing, and the roars of the people fighting, mixed with anger and pain, created a maddening commotion above Stratholme. Tirio struggled not to make noise and focused on staying alive. All around him was a killing place. Mighty orc warriors slashed at their foes with great axes, while others hurled long, vicious spears with frightening precision. Several orcs, dressed in what looked like wolf skins, rushed forward and raised their hands to the sky. Before Tirio could understand what they were going to do, arcs of lightning fell from the darkened sky, smashing into the human forces in the front row. Charred human bodies and thick stones flew into the air and rained down on the chaotic battlefield. Stunned by the ferocious elemental attack, the remaining human queue was forced to retreat before the orc's terrifying rage.

Tirio was surprised to find that the orcs were in unison, outwitting and outwitting, attacking the flanks of the nervous human defenders. As far as he can remember, the orcs have never been so unusually unified in battle. Despite their apparent cunning and skill, the number of orcs is too small. Tirio wanted to know what the orcs were looking for, and he attacked a fortified human city with such a fragile force. Soon every soldier of Stratholme will defeat their opponents in the square. Outnumbered orcs wouldn't have a good chance of standing up against a well-equipped garrison, he thought.

Despite the chaos around him, Tirio struggled to the edge of the square and fled down an alley. Holding up the weight of Itrag in place again, Tirio turned to take one last look at the carnage that had unfolded. He saw a huge orc, dressed in a full suit of black plate armor. The orc was holding a powerful warhammer, much like the ones used by paladins - only for a moment, the orc's hammer appeared to glow with active lightning. The dark orcs carved their way through the loyal human guardians, as if they were harmless children. It shattered and slammed everyone that came its way with a steady lethality - alertly shouting orders to its warriors. Tirio could only look at it for a moment with amazement and fear. The mighty orc leader was unlike anything he had seen before. Tirio recovered from his stunned state, quickened his pace, and with his arm around Itreig, he walked out of the besieged city.

××××××××××××××××××××××××××

With great effort, Tirio managed to drag Itreg out of the city and into the surrounding woods. Looking back, he could see that fires had begun in several parts of the city. He could hear screams and weapons clashing even from that distance. The visibly cunning orcs have been trying to disrupt and distract the human forces. Tirio noticed that whoever was the leader of the orcs was far smarter than the chieftains he had already heard of.

Wearily, Tirio dropped Atreig on the leaf-covered ground and crouched down next to him. He tried to calm himself down, carefully considering the form. He couldn't explain the orc's unprecedentedly assault on the city, and wondered if the creatures were there to save Itreig, as he had just done. Whatever the case, he was glad they would come. He was genuinely sad to see so many of his brothers fall in front of the orcs, but at least he had accomplished what he had done in the first place. Itrieg is alive. Despite his nervous tense and emaciated, Tirio's prized honor remained intact.

Itreg lay quietly on the tangled forest floor. Tirio bent down to check the orc's pulse. May the orc had only exhausted his strength from his torment, he mused. With a cool breath of panic, Tirio realized that Itreig's heart had stopped beating. The people who beat the orc clearly caused Yan Zòng's internal injuries. If he didn't do something about it, he knew that Itreig would die. Instinctively, he placed his hand on Itreig's chest, praying that the healing power of the Light would bathe emaciated orc's body. Surely, he was still strong enough to heal these extremely severe injuries.

Slowly, a sense of dread spread through Tirio's heart. Nothing happened. He bowed his head in frustration, remembering that he had been expelled from the Light Order. It's not going to happen, he thought miserably. He could almost feel Itreig's life waning away.

"No!" Tirio roared in despair. "You're not going to die, Itrieg, did you hear me, you weren't going to die in front of me!" He shouted at the sleeping orcs. He pressed his hands down hard against the orc's chest once more, gathering all his will. "By the grace of the Light, may your brother be healed. The phrases drifted through his consciousness repeatedly, and he captured the power that lurked somewhere in his soul. "In his grace he will do it all over again. ”

The Light would not be taken from him, he insisted. People can take away his armor and title, they can take away his family and his wealth—but the Light will always be in his heart. It must be.

Slowly, Tirio felt intense heat rise from within him. It filled his heart with strength and light, slowly overflowing and moving to his limbs. He cried out almost with pleasure as the familiar energy raced through his hands engulfing the orc's ravaged bodies. Tirio felt as if he was floating in the air. The purity and power of the Holy Light overwhelmed his being, and a waterfall poured through his body like the halo of divine fire. Awe and reverence for the power of reawakening, Tirio opened his eyes to see a warm golden glow enveloping Itrig. He watched in amazement, and the wounds on the orc's body healed under his gaze. Even the infected cuts on the orc's legs healed as if they had never been before.

The reassuring power subsided, and Tirio fell to the ground with all his might. He lay there panting for a while, trying to keep his head from vertigo. With a snort, Itreig sat up and looked around frantically. The old orc's face was pale and visibly weak, but his eyes were bright and alert. Itreg sprang to his feet, crouching defensively, sniffing the air. He scanned the edge of the trees closest to him, looking for signs of danger, and it didn't seem to be much. Itreig looked down and saw Tirio lying next to him. With suspicion, he moved his ass back and stared in surprise at the exhausted human.

"Humans?" Itrieg asked. "What's going on? How did we get here?" Tirio sat up and patted the orc on the shoulder comfortingly.

"We're out of town, Itrieg," Tirio said quietly. "You're safe for now. If we're both lucky, we'll never have another hangings anytime soon. Itreg purred and looked at Tirio suspiciously. He glanced down at his big green hand, then fingers groped for the spot where he had been hurting.

"It's your power, human," the orc began, "heal my wounds?"

Tirio nodded. "Yes. You've told me before that Pain is a good teacher. Well, you're going to have the last lesson. If he's a bad teacher, I think," Tirio said jokingly.

Itreg grinned and patted Tirio on the back. "Maybe I've learned enough eventually," the orc said sarcastically. The old orc coughed a few times, then relaxed himself and turned around to find a place to sit. The tension of the past few days proved too much for his tired and aging body, and he fainted. Despite his treatment, Tirio's experience told him that the orcs would be weakened for days.

He was startled to hear a sudden rustling sound in all the dense branches and bushes around him. Looking around with extreme unease, he prepared himself for danger. Slowly - inauspiciously - the shadows of the trees began to move, in all directions. Large, dark figures took on the form and came forward, surrounding the sleeping orcs and frightened humans. (To be continued.) )