Diablo Chronicles Episode 14: The Night the Star Fell, the Last Horadrim

This is a fan narrative newly written based on the events of the original game. The characters' emotions, dialogue, and the atmosphere of the scenes have been reconstructed, and it contains major spoilers.

Ominous Portents and the Falling Star

The air in New Tristram was always damp and heavy. In a corner of the dusty tavern, Leah let out a deep sigh as she organized piles of old parchment. Across the table, Deckard Cain peered into an ancient tome containing prophecies of the end times, repeatedly murmuring unintelligible words. Even in the midst of ordinary daily life, the old man's eyes constantly trembled with anxiety over the impending doom.

Leah tried to reassure her uncle while wiping away the stale dust accumulated on the table. To her, prophecies were merely illusions trapped inside old books, but to Cain, they were a reality that would soon strike. He buried his nose in the parchment, bending his hunched back even further, insisting that the Lords of Hell would move once more. Leah swallowed her pity as she looked at her uncle's frail shoulders.

At that moment, the earth beneath their feet began to shake violently. Books on the shelves tumbled down, and the lanterns flickered precariously. The night sky outside the window turned a bizarre blood-red, and a blinding flash of light tore through the clouds, illuminating the entire town like broad daylight. Leah lost her balance, stumbled toward the window, and witnessed a massive fireball plummeting from the sky.

The trajectory of the falling star, which let out a fierce roaring sound as it tore through the air, was headed precisely toward the old cathedral. A shockwave that seemed to rip the atmosphere apart struck with a thunderous roar, making all the buildings in the town feel as if they were about to collapse. Screams of the townspeople pierced the night air, and beasts wailed in terror. It was not a mere natural phenomenon, but a signal flare announcing the prelude to a massive catastrophe.

Cain's eyes widened in shock and realization. It was the moment when the prophecy of the end times, to which he had dedicated his entire life, finally materialized as a light of ruin crashing through the cathedral ceiling. Despite his frail body, the old man clutched the ancient books next to the altar to his chest and shouted urgently to evacuate Leah amidst the massive tremors shaking the cathedral floor.

Leah stumbled and reached out, trying to grab her uncle's hand through the thick dust. However, the cathedral floor split open massively, revealing an abyssal pit, and Cain was swept down into the deep underground along with the collapsing stone debris before he could escape. Leah screamed as she stared into the fissure, but the cascading stone dust and flames blocked her path.

The moment the star that fell from the sky collided deep within the cathedral, a shockwave of sacred magical power swept in all directions along with a massive explosion. A powerful gale mercilessly threw Leah's body toward the cathedral entrance, and she barely escaped the collapsing pillars, collapsing onto the cold dirt outside. Acrid gray smoke blanketed the night sky, making it difficult to see even an inch ahead.

As the dust inside the cathedral slowly cleared, a devastating sight was revealed: a massive crater of unknown depth yawned in the middle of the chapel. Deckard Cain, who had been by her side just moments ago, had been swallowed by the darkness of the deep pit, leaving no trace behind. Leah desperately called out her uncle's name at the collapsed entrance of the cathedral, but only an ominous wind echoed from the abyss.

The Cursed Cathedral and the Hand of Salvation

When the Nephalem hero, who had sensed an ominous energy from the outskirts of Tristram, hurriedly arrived in the town, it was already in utter chaos. Awakened by the impact of the fallen star, the dead had broken through their graves and were attacking the living. Amidst the panicked residents, Leah, her face pale with terror, desperately grabbed the hero's sleeve and pleaded for help.

With tears in her eyes, Leah spoke in a trembling voice, saying her uncle had fallen into the cathedral depths. The hero nodded silently and gripped their weapon tightly. Although the sickening stench of corrupt magic emanating from the cursed ruins stung their nose, there was not a single moment of hesitation in the hero's steps. The entrance to the dark cathedral looked like the very maw of Hell.

As they descended deeper into the cathedral's underground along the collapsed stairs, the air grew foul with the stench of rotting flesh and ancient mold. The moisture running down the walls was stained blood-red, and only the bizarre sound of clashing bones echoed in the darkness. The hero cautiously stepped into the crypt, their senses heightened, feeling the ominous hostility closing in from all sides.

From the shadowed corners untouched by torchlight, skeleton warriors launched a surprise attack. Holding rusted swords and shields, the dead rushed toward the hero, driven solely by the hatred they held in life. The hero nimbly dodged and shattered the skeletons' frames with heavy blows. The rupturing sound of steel clashing with bone broke the silence of the underground, creating a cold echo.

Avoiding the cracked floors and collapsing pillars, the hero relentlessly broke through the labyrinthine corridors. They navigated by relying on the faint sound of an old man's heavy breathing and chanting of spells in the distance. Sweat beaded on the forehead of the hero as they cut down the endlessly swarming undead, but the promise made to Leah to rescue her uncle pushed them forward.

In the deep chamber they finally reached, Deckard Cain was fighting for his life, completely surrounded by dozens of undead. The last Horadrim clutched his old staff tightly, barely holding on by projecting a weak protective barrier. Blood was trickling down the old man's forehead, and his physical strength had already reached its limit, making him look precariously close to collapsing at any moment.

The hero plunged into the center of the enemy ranks without hesitation, unleashing a fierce assault. With every strike of their powerful skills, the skeleton soldiers scattered into dust in the air. Having cleared the enemies in the room in an instant with overwhelming power, the hero approached Cain while catching their breath. At the sight of the savior appearing in a desperate situation, the old man let out a sigh of relief and sank to the floor.

Catching his breath, Cain thanked the hero and pointed toward the center of the crater with a trembling hand. He revealed the shocking truth that the star that fell from the sky was not a burning meteor, but a man. The old man's eyes shone once again with scholarly curiosity and fear of the prophecy, and the hero instinctively knew they had to find the whereabouts of this mysterious stranger.

The Rest of the Mad King Leoric

The path leading to the deeper crater where the stranger had fallen was firmly shut by the curse of Leoric, the king who had gone mad long ago. His maniacal laughter, resurrected as the Skeleton King, vibrated unpleasantly throughout the crypt. Passing through the Royal Crypts adorned with decaying royal banners and faded gold, the hero witnessed the tragic scene where past glory had been stained by corruption.

The massive throne room they finally reached was filled with a chilling cold and the aura of death. Atop the massive throne in the center lay the giant skeleton of Leoric, and as the hero approached, an ominous blue light flared up in his empty eye sockets. The Skeleton King slowly rose, picking up his heavy mace, and spat out cursed words filled with endless hatred toward the living.

As Leoric swung his mace heavily, a massive stone pillar was split in two, sending debris flying in all directions. The strike, filled with the Mad King's wrath, boasted a destructive power that seemed capable of crushing anything it touched. The hero narrowly dodged the attack, rolling across the floor, and immediately launched a counterattack. Sharp sparks flew as their weapon struck the thick armor encasing the king's bones.

The enraged Skeleton King summoned his once-loyal royal guards endlessly, drawing upon the power of the throne. In an instant, dozens of skeleton soldiers filled the room, pressing in on the hero. The hero calmly executed a tactical retreat, luring the enemies to one spot, and then unleashed area-of-effect skills to break through the encirclement in one go. A chaotic melee of bone and steel ensued.

With his summons defeated, Leoric charged even more fiercely, seeking the hero's life. The hero exploited the openings in the king's large, slow movements, focusing their strikes on the vulnerable bones of his joints. The sound of cracking could be heard from inside the heavy armor, and the Skeleton King's movements began to slow down noticeably. The scales of victory were slowly tipping in the hero's favor.

Squeezing out their remaining strength, the hero leaped into the air and delivered a decisive blow toward the cursed crown resting on Leoric's head. With a thunderous roar, the crown shattered and flew off, and the blue magic that sustained the Skeleton King's torso exploded and dispersed. Leoric's soul let out a painful scream and finally vanished into the air, finding eternal rest.

As the Mad King fell, the heavy curse that had weighed down the throne room began to lift in an instant. The massive stone door of the firmly shut secret passage slowly opened with a heavy grinding sound. Catching their breath, the hero wiped the dust off their weapon and stepped toward the newly opened path. The stranger who fell from the sky would be waiting there.

At the end of the passage, in the deepest center of the crater, a man lay collapsed in the middle of a pattern emitting a strange light. He was in a deep state of unconsciousness without the slightest movement, and an unknown heavenly energy rose like a haze around him. The hero cautiously approached to check the man's condition, sensing the massive secret this individual held.

The Swamp of Oblivion and the Shattered Sword

Although they safely brought the fallen man back to New Tristram, he was in a desperate state, completely unable to remember who he was or where he came from. The stranger's eyes were vacant, and his lips only intermittently muttered fragmented, incomprehensible memories of a shattered sword. His voice carried a deep sense of loss and an inexplicable sadness.

Deckard Cain stayed by the stranger's side, instinctively sensing that the lost sword was the key to unlocking all the secrets. The old man began to search through ancient texts, tracking the locations where the shards of the sword might have fallen. Hope shone in his eyes that if the sword regained its whole form, the stranger's memories would return, and they would find a way to face the impending prophecy of doom.

Following Cain's instructions, the hero embarked on a perilous journey to the Festering Woods, the Sunken Temple, and the dens teeming with ferocious Khazra. Although bloodthirsty goatmen and specters harboring ancient curses blocked their path, they could not break the hero's resolute determination. After a fierce battle, the hero recovered the first sword shard from an altar stained with the blood of beasts.

The collected sword shards held a sacred and dazzling light that could never be forged in a mortal's smithy. Every time the hero held a shard, a strange and powerful heavenly resonance flowed through their veins. It even created the illusion that the sword itself was alive and breathing, yearning to be whole. The hero carefully gathered the shards and returned to the town.

Receiving the pieces brought by the hero, Cain meticulously caressed their edges with trembling hands. Wonder and fear crossed the old man's wrinkled face. The perfect craftsmanship, unseen anywhere in mortal history, and the holy magic imbued within proved that this sword originated from the heavens. Cain adjusted his magnifying glass and studied how the shards fit together.

The stranger stared blankly at the pieces of the sword placed on the table. Instantly, a painful fragment of memory flashed through his hollow eyes, making his body flinch. He parted his lips to utter some important truth, but oblivion, draped like a thick fog, weighed down his mind once more and snatched the memory away. He clutched his head in agony and let out a deep groan.

Leah watched the stranger from a corner of the room with anxious eyes. She instinctively felt that this man was no ordinary human. Standing near him, she could feel an inexplicable wave of massive power, which seemed to stimulate an unknown force sleeping within her. A complex mix of compassion and primal fear tormented her.

Once all the shards were gathered, Cain hurriedly began preparing an ancient ritual to restore the sword to its original form. He firmly believed that the moment this sword became one again, the stranger's lost memories would return, and the true nature of the darkness they faced would be revealed. Sweat beaded on the old man's forehead, but his hands were resolute, driven by a noble sense of duty as the last Horadrim.

Maghda's Attack and the Great Sacrifice

Just as the ritual was about to begin, the sky of New Tristram turned an ominous purple, and an unpleasant silence settled over the entire town. Soon, dark cultists began to swarm from all directions like ants, chanting bizarre spells. With their mad attacks drawing magic circles and shattering barriers, the town was instantly transformed into a chaotic hell.

In the midst of the cultist horde, the witch Maghda appeared, accompanied by a phantom-like swarm of disgusting insects. Her elaborate yet bizarre ornaments clashed to make a spine-chilling sound, and a cruel smile mocking the living hung on her lips. As Maghda's mocking laughter drifted through the air, the temperature dropped rapidly, bringing a bone-chilling cold.

Maghda demanded in an arrogant voice that they hand over the shattered sword shards and the stranger immediately. However, Deckard Cain did not back down even an inch, slamming his staff onto the floor and blocking the table. Though his body was old and frail, his resolute determination to protect the world as the last Horadrim firmly shielded the shards and the stranger like a massive shield.

As the enraged Maghda reached out, a lethal orb of dark magic was shot mercilessly toward Cain. Hit squarely by the magical strike with a dull rupturing sound, the old man's body was thrown into the air and slammed hard against the stone wall. With a horrific sound of breaking bones, Cain spat blood and collapsed to the floor, and the weak protective barrier he had projected shattered into pieces.

Leah, who ran into the tavern a step too late, screamed as she witnessed the horrific sight of her uncle lying bloodied. The moment uncontrollable grief and anger snapped her sanity, an uncontrollable black and red wave exploded from deep within Leah's body. It was a terrifying and overwhelming power of destruction, hard to believe as belonging to a mortal.

The unknown power erupting from Leah instantly tore apart the cultists inside the tavern and even pushed Maghda back. Flustered by the unexpected and powerful force, Maghda clicked her tongue and hurriedly chanted a retreat spell. However, taking advantage of the confusion, her minions snatched the unconscious stranger and vanished into a dark portal. Only a heavy silence remained in the tavern.

Leah collapsed by Cain's side, clutching his blood-stained hand and weeping bitterly. Even as he gasped for breath, the old man squeezed out all his remaining life force to chant the last Horadrim spell toward the sword shards scattered on the floor. The golden magic extending from his fingertips wove the pieces back together, forging them into a whole sword that emitted a miraculously dazzling light.

With a trembling hand, Cain lifted the restored sword and placed it in Leah's arms. He left a warm final testament to his weeping niece, telling her that he believed in the light within her, and finally closed his heavy eyes. The moment the breath of the great scholar and last Horadrim, who had dedicated his life to the peace of Sanctuary, ceased, only Leah's heartbreaking wails filled the room.

The Halls of Agony and the Bloodthirsty Butcher

The agonizing grief of losing her uncle soon hardened into a cold, firm resolve. Leah wiped away her tears and, along with the hero, followed Maghda's trail past Wortham and into the rugged terrain of the Highlands. In her eyes, set on rescuing the stranger and completing Cain's revenge, the fragile girl of before was nowhere to be seen; only a fierce fighting spirit directed solely at her goal burned brightly.

The path descending into the Halls of Agony, Maghda's lair, was like a miniature version of Hell. The sickening stench of burning flesh vibrated from all sides, and the screams of those suffering from horrific torture echoed endlessly in the darkness. Dried bloodstains covered the walls, and beneath the iron grates underfoot, boiling lava spewed red light, emitting a dreadful heat.

The cultists desperately rushed to block the hero's path, but they fell like autumn leaves before the merciless blade of the hero, who was armed with wrath. Swinging their vengeance-fueled sword, the hero carved through flesh and bone, advancing relentlessly into the depths of the halls. Only the horrific remains left by Maghda's minions lay scattered in the blood-stained corridors.

In the center of the Chamber of Suffering they finally reached, a massive demon emitting a terrible stench, the Butcher, stood blocking the way. The hideous demon, looking as if it were bizarrely stitched together from numerous corpses, hungered for the flesh of the living. Holding a massive, blood-dripping cleaver and a hook in his hands, the Butcher charged mindlessly toward the hero with a deafening roar.

As the Butcher slammed his cleaver onto the floor, the entire room shook, and bright red hellfire surged up through the iron grates on the floor. The hero narrowly avoided the spewing flames and closed in on the demon's flank. The moment the hook swung by the Butcher missed and lodged into a steel pillar, the hero did not miss the opening and unleashed a lethal flurry of strikes against the demon's stitched flesh.

The battle turned into a breathtaking war of attrition. The hero's breathing grew heavy, and their entire body was covered in sweat and blood, but their focus became even sharper. Luring the Butcher's enraged charge into a wall to make him crash, the hero seized the fleeting moment the demon stumbled. The hero leaped with all their might and drove their weapon deep into the Butcher's hideous throat.

The dull sensation of the blade piercing the demon's thick hide and severing its spine was felt through their fingertips. The Butcher let out a deafening, painful death rattle and dropped his massive cleaver. Kneeling as he spewed black blood like a fountain, the demon's massive body soon collapsed onto the floor with a heavy thud. The terrible demonic malice that had filled the Chamber of Suffering finally subsided.

As the bloody stench emitted by the fallen Butcher settled, the firmly shut prison door slowly opened. On the cold stone floor beyond, the stranger, who had been bound by the cultists' horrific ritual, lay unconscious. The hero rushed over, severed the magical bindings holding him, and carefully placed the restored sword that Leah held into the stranger's hand.

The Archangel Who Cast Aside Heaven's Law

The moment the stranger's rough hand tightly gripped the hilt of the fully restored sword, a massive tremor shook the entire Halls of Agony. A blinding flash of white light erupting from the sword instantly washed away the deep darkness of the underground, expanding explosively. Before that sacred and overwhelming wave of light, the hero and Leah instinctively had to raise their arms to shield their eyes.

As the light slowly subsided, the silhouette of the stranger who had been lying on the floor was clearly revealed. He was no longer a faceless archangel of light. Standing there was a man clothed in a whole human body, with distinct facial features and a strong, dark complexion. In his eyes dwelt a heavenly wisdom and a steadfast resolve that transcended mortal limits.

He spoke in a heavy, majestic voice to Leah and the hero, who were watching him with bated breath. The truth that flowed from his lips was too shocking. The stranger who had fallen from the sky and lost his memory was none other than Tyrael, the Archangel of Justice of the High Heavens. The moment that name was spoken, an inexplicable awe settled over the entire space.

Tyrael revealed with a bitter expression the conflict he had with the Angiris Council in the heavens. Imperius, the Archangel of Valor, sought to stand by and watch the ruin of Sanctuary due to humanity's corruption, and Tyrael fiercely opposed his brother's self-righteousness. If the shackles of Heaven's law bound his will to save humanity, Tyrael's firm resolve was to willingly break that law.

After a fierce clash with Imperius, he endured the horrific pain of tearing off his own wings of light, the symbol of an angel. Casting aside both eternal life and heavenly glory, he chose the path of falling to Sanctuary, clothed in a fragile and finite mortal body. It was a noble and desperate sacrifice, made solely to stand by humanity and protect them from the impending threat of Hell.

Leah covered her mouth with both hands in disbelief as she listened to Tyrael's confession. The fact that a divine being had willingly taken on the yoke of mortality—experiencing hunger, pain, and the fear of death—solely for weak humans like themselves moved her deeply. It was the very proof of hope that Deckard Cain had spent his entire life believing in.

With a firm expression, Tyrael looked at the hero and Leah in turn, warning them of the massive catastrophe to come. Belial, the Lord of Lies, and Azmodan, the Lord of Sin—the last Lords of Hell—had already begun to move to consume Sanctuary. Cain's death was a tragedy, but there was no time even to mourn. The demons' cunning plots had already taken root deep within the human world.

Tyrael's decision to cast aside his angelic status and become a mortal breathed a burning sense of duty into the hero's heart. To repay his boundless trust in humanity, they had to stop the Lords of Hell. Sheathing his sword, Tyrael revealed that the Lord of Lies had infiltrated Caldeum, the desert city to the east. Their perilous journey was now truly beginning.

A New Journey Toward Caldeum

When the party emerged from the Halls of Agony and returned to New Tristram, a small, simple grave had been prepared for Deckard Cain in a corner of the town. The morning sun rose, casting a faint light over the cold tombstone, but it was far from enough to warm the cold loss nestled in the hearts of those left behind. The townspeople stood at a distance, keeping a mournful silence.

Leah knelt before her uncle's grave and carefully placed a single wild flower—the kind he had liked in life—upon the soil. A great scholar who had clung to the prophecies of doom his entire life, treated as a madman, yet never letting go of hope for humanity. To her, Cain was her only family and her entire world. Hot tears flowed silently down Leah's cheeks.

Tyrael approached and placed a warm hand on the slender shoulder of the grief-stricken Leah. His touch, carrying the warmth of a mortal, conveyed a strange comfort. Tyrael softly said that the noble sacrifice and unyielding will shown by Cain were so great they would put even the angels of heaven to shame. His heartfelt words of tribute seemed to soothe Leah's torn heart.

Leah wiped her tears roughly with her sleeve and stood up. In her eyes, there was no longer the grief of a fragile girl, but a strong resolve to carry on her uncle's legacy and save the world. Clutching the old journal left by Cain to her chest, she swore firmly before the grave that she would never stand by and watch the Lords of Hell trample Sanctuary.

The group's gaze was now directed toward the east, where Maghda's remnants had fled—toward Caldeum, known as the jewel of the desert. The cunning shadow of Belial, the Lord of Lies, would already be sickening the heart of that great empire. The hero thoroughly checked their weapons and armor, silently preparing for the new battles to be fought amidst the scorching desert heat and unseen conspiracies.

The survivors of New Tristram gathered a small wagon and supplies for the group as they hurriedly packed. Although the town was in ruins after losing Cain, their eyes held deep respect and a shred of hope for the hero and Tyrael. Leaving the silent support of the residents behind, the hero took the reins of the wagon and fixed their gaze on the rugged dirt road stretching to the east.

Tyrael, who had come to walk the earth of Sanctuary in a mortal body; Leah, bearing the mission of the last Horadrim; and the Nephalem hero, who had awakened their boundless potential. This small yet resolute group slowly set off, leaving Cain's grave behind. The dry wind blowing from the desert shook their cloaks violently, but it could not stop their steadfast march forward.

On the road leading toward Caldeum, where a massive sandstorm would be waiting, Leah once again tightly embraced the journal in her arms. Even if the desert journey ahead was perilous and filled with unpredictable dangers, the group silently moved forward for a single goal: the survival of humanity and the salvation of Sanctuary. This great journey, which began on the night the star fell, was now stretching vigorously toward a new continent.

Verified Sources

Official Blizzard Chronicle: After the Destruction of the Worldstone

Official Blizzard Lore: Book of Tyrael and the Leoric Lineage

Official Blizzard Lore: Adria's Betrayal

Official Blizzard Materials: The Black Soulstone and the Reconstruction of the Horadrim

Official Blizzard Materials: Malthael and Westmarch

Official Diablo III Purchase Site: Battle.net