The following day, the sea of trees around Gran Village stood quiet. No more orcish assaults. No border raids. Gran was still.
With the villagers calm, Galen made an announcement: the Holy Light Church would hold a Holy Knight initiation ceremony the next morning.
Every villager would participate—not for recruitment, but for healing. Galen's real goal was to use the Light to restore their spirits and bodies after the attack. The timing was deliberate. He needed to rally morale. He might remain here for some time, and he couldn't afford anyone lagging behind.
At dawn, the village square filled. Locals gathered alongside the Gran militia and two hundred knights of the Iron Horse Brotherhood. With Galen's men in charge of defense, the ceremony would focus entirely on the Stormwind citizens.
Galen stepped into the center of the square. Gavinrad, Omar, Varrokal, and Heini stood beside him, backed by their respective units. Varian had declined the invitation—he upheld the Thoradin warrior tradition. Fadir, more hunter than knight, also refused.
Ten barrels of holy water were rolled into the square—prepared overnight by Danas, Turalyon, and more than twenty paladins.
"The ceremony begins!" Galen's voice echoed across the square.
Turalyon followed him, holding a tray with four servings of holy water. Danas and the other paladins moved down the line, distributing cups to the waiting men and women.
One by one, the villagers drank. Then came Galen's moment.
The Holy Light exploded around him. He activated Vengeful Wrath for dramatic effect—wings of Light unfurled behind him, each nearly three meters long. The spectacle was breathtaking.
"Feel the Light," Galen called out. "Tell me,what do you feel? In your heart, what is the Holy Light to you?"
It was the beginning of soul-searching—painful and deep. A spiritual test few could pass.
But Galen didn't stop there. He pushed his Light outward, flooding the square with healing energy. Thousands of villagers were bathed in it. Fresh wounds closed. Old injuries—forgotten aches from labor and war—eased. Even emotional scars began to mend.
Ten seconds passed before the first response.
"Sacrifice!" Gavinrad's body glowed with pure white Light. He stood tall, his faith burning like a beacon.
"Valor!" Omar's voice rang out next as he raised his warhammer.
"Compassion!" a third voice declared.
It was Heinie Harbaugh. Galen was momentarily taken aback—but it fit. Heinie would one day be the legendary mayor of Southshore, leading with kindness even through tragedy. Compassion was his truth.
"Loyalty!" came the final cry.
Varrokal. The last to awaken among the four, but the first to pass with loyalty as his core virtue. Galen chuckled silently. His most loyal retainer—he'd make a fine Marshal someday.
Applause broke out across the square. The moment was stirring.
In addition to those four, six others awakened—two from the village militia, four from the Iron Horse Brotherhood. Not surprising. Galen suspected Gran's militia would one day evolve into the Night Watch. And the Brotherhood? They were Stormwind's elite.
Still, even among top warriors and pious priests, soul torture was rarely overcome. Galen considered a new approach: planting Holy Light seeds in chosen individuals, bypassing the soul trial. It would work much like the Sunwalkers' path—an external Light source embedded within.
To Galen, the Holy Light wasn't divine dogma. It was energy—pure, ordered, universal. A force of justice and harmony, counter to the chaotic fel magic of the Twisting Nether. To wield it, one didn't need permission from gods—only belief and understanding.
But in Azeroth, faith came with fear. Church doctrine painted the Light as a divine gift to be revered. This fear stifled many during the soul trial. Only the resolute succeeded.
Planting Light seeds could change that. It lowered the barrier to entry. Like giving someone a modem to access Light—easier, but more dependent. Such knights wouldn't channel Light from within, but through the seed. Their connection would be slower, their control weaker.
Still, it was a viable compromise.
Galen envisioned using it for loyal Alterac citizens—after vetting their character. Let them attempt the soul trial first. If they failed, seed them.
He had Minas Tirith's Cathedral to train elite knights, but Stromgarde's native population couldn't be ignored. If he hoped to rival the Silver Hand, shortcuts might be necessary.
He smiled. The future looked bright.