"I would have thought that after I used my soul to shield you from the aftershocks of the Worldstone's destruction, you'd call me back for something a bit more important," Kanai said, his expression wry. "So, what of Bul-Kathos? Has he become the Immortal King yet?"
Kanai declined to answer the somewhat rude question and shifted the topic to Bul-Kathos. He could already sense what was happening on the mountain. A tragedy repeating itself? The High Elder didn't care for that sort of tune.
"He has become something even greater. He is not far from the dream of the First Ancestor," Vorusk replied, finally sitting down cross-legged. "He made a wager with Tyrael. The stakes are the status and power of the Archangel of Justice."
"Oh? A novel idea. It seems the Cube I left behind provided him with no small amount of help." Kanai glanced toward Baal's location, his voice filled with incredulity. "And the Lord of Destruction has... had a change of heart?"
"Baal will yield to power, Kanai!" Vorusk snapped, his temper flaring.
Near Kanai's grave, a crack appeared in the ground. A Fallen struggled to crawl out from the frozen earth.
"A familiar little fellow," Kanai shook his head softly.
In a flash, he appeared beside the demon. The Fallen, having just emerged, froze instantly. Normally, these annoying pests would flee screaming at the sight of danger, only finding courage once they'd gathered a mob. But facing Kanai's peaceful face, the creature couldn't even manage a twitch.
"Do you want me to intervene in this battle? To help Bul-Kathos win back Tyrael's power?"
Kanai reached out and gently rubbed the Fallen's head, as casually as one might stroke a house cat.
"I..."
Vorusk's words caught in his throat. He didn't know how to say it.
He needed Kanai's soul to be sacrificed. He needed Kanai to surrender all his knowledge, power, experiences, and history. To throw himself into his own relic—the Cube—to be refined and transformed into the purest essence for Bul-Kathos to absorb.
The cornerstone that Joraith had gouged out had affected Bul-Kathos too deeply. Until he conquered Fear, Bul-Kathos could not reclaim what he had lost. This required the sacrifice of a sufficiently powerful soul.
"It seems this is a difficult thing to ask, isn't it?"
Kanai looked at Vorusk and shook his head. The Fallen beneath his hand wiggled its body, purring like a cat that had found its favorite scratch.
"Fine. Tell me. What can this soul, which is about to dissipate forever, still do for the Great Immortal King? Do you need me to maintain your existence from the Worldstone's blast again? Or has the situation worsened so much that a soul with little power left needs to burn its very essence to end the war?"
There wasn't a trace of mockery in Kanai's voice.
He was the noble, kind, and merciful Kanai. The most respected elder. He belonged in a seat within the Hall of Elders, quietly observing the actions of the Immortal Kings.
Poise, civilization, and glory—these were the things Kanai, as High Elder, was supposed to bequeath to the Immortal Kings.
The Most Noble. That was Kanai's title.
"We need your sacrifice," Vorusk said, his voice dropping. He unconsciously hung his head, looking like a child who had made a mistake in front of his elder.
"Lift your head, Vorusk!"
Kanai's voice rang out, stern and dignified.
"An Immortal King does not bow his head! There is no such thing as 'bowing' in Barbarian civilization! So what if it's a sacrifice? I've been prepared for this for a long time. From the moment I died, I knew there would be something that only I could accomplish."
Kanai stood up. The Fallen beneath his palm shuddered and disintegrated into a mess of shredded meat. Filthy blood and gore splashed across Kanai's grave. To be toasted with the blood of a demon—this was Kanai's brand of free-spiritedness.
"But... I am the one who should be sacrificed!" Vorusk's voice trembled.
Before the elder who had guided him on the path of strength, Vorusk's arrogance vanished completely. All that remained was a heavy heart and the deep longing of a student for his mentor.
"Vorusk, listen to me."
Kanai paused, reaching out to cup Vorusk's lowered head and forcing him to look up.
"As the strongest warrior, the Immortal King should indeed face the strongest enemy and be the first to fall. But there are things that must be done by you!"
Kanai looked at Vorusk, who was now an old man himself. Just as he had when Vorusk was a child, Kanai continued to impart the wisdom of the Barbarians, guiding the "young man" who was no longer young.
"I've been ready for a long time. At least this time, I don't have to protect you from Rathma and the Worldstone simultaneously. Now, tell me the details."
Kanai's eyes were filled with earnestness. Life and existence only have value when they are tethered to a purpose, a dream, or hope. By using one's existence to seek and to witness—only then does life find meaning.
In the center of Harrogath, Bul-Kathos closed his eyes.
Watching others sacrifice themselves was something he fundamentally could not accept. Yet, he had no way to stop it. It was just like Leoric. This was the will of free souls; it was the glory of those worthy of praise.
There are things in this world that only a specific person can do. Bul-Kathos understood this well. He could only walk this path to the very end and use his own will to bring those who sacrificed themselves back.
The power of a Creator.
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