The Changing World

The World Tree and Darkshore were still shrouded beneath gloomy skies and endless drizzle. With Suramar City restored, everything continued as usual.

The planet Sarodal had already gotten on track, and the divine kingdom could now operate independently. Elisande had gone to the Tower of Slumber for further study, learning mind magic from the Faceless One, while Hu Feng had become a hands-off boss.

Every elf knew that although the current rulers were the three great powers—the High Priestess Tyrande, Suramar's Council of Truth, and border general Garrond Shadow Song—their ultimate superior was still Hu Feng, the Divine Emissary of the God of Magic. Hu Feng simply disliked meddling in everything and had delegated extensive authority to all three sides. Unless it concerned major matters of racial direction or foreign relations, Hu Feng was basically idle. The leaders of all three factions were deeply grateful for this; after all, no one liked being a puppet.

Thus, Hu Feng spent each day absorbing and refining the power of faith sent by his believers while continuing to practice controlling the Void, fel energy, and Arcane Magic.

His Titan Core was thriving within the planet's core. Compared to Azeroth, a Titan plagued by endless disasters and therefore developing at an incredibly slow pace, Hu Feng's true body was doing so well it was practically soaring into the heavens. So, from time to time, Hu Feng diverted a portion of his excess power of faith and Titan Divine Power into Azeroth's planetary core. Each time, he could sense Azeroth's joyful mood.

In return, the World of Azeroth's recognition of Hu Feng was off the charts. Put another way, he was the world's favored son, carried along by the tide of destiny. Randomly finding gold coins by the roadside was child's play. As long as he was in Azeroth, Hu Feng's luck was absurdly outrageous.

Because his true body had not yet been born, Hu Feng could not yet comprehend his own divine authority. However, not every Titan possessed a divine authority, nor was a Titan with one necessarily stronger.

The Dark Titan Sargeras had no divine authority, yet before his fall, he had been the Pantheon's chief warrior and number-one enforcer—a ruthless figure who had slaughtered his way across the universe without equal. He was vastly stronger than some of his kin who possessed divine authorities, such as gods of forging or dreams.

Of course, if Hu Feng could comprehend a good divine authority related to combat, elements, or magic, then his strength would undergo a complete transformation, soaring straight into the sky.

At that moment, Hu Feng was sitting on the dock of Auberdine, a small town on Darkshore, leisurely fishing. Fishing had not originally been a popular pastime among the Night Elves, but under the Divine Emissary's influence, many Night Elves had begun coming to Auberdine to fish in their spare time.

The druids had protested this for quite some time. Several newly promoted druids born after the war had even fearlessly come to Auberdine to persuade Hu Feng in person not to use the lives of fish for entertainment. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Hu Feng could only agree that aside from keeping a few fish for a snack, he would release all the rest back into the sea. Only then did he send those druids away.

Yet in the eyes of the Night Elves, Hu Feng's image grew even more impressive. After all, the Highborne had once acted lofty and superior, whereas under the leadership of this approachable Divine Emissary, there was none of that arrogance.

Thus, voices within elven society calling for Hu Feng to permanently guard and lead the elves remained strong. Everyone was happy to see a supreme authority watching over the three ruling factions, especially one who enjoyed mingling with ordinary people.

Hu Feng sat on a homemade little stool. A hand formed from Arcane energy tightly gripped the fishing rod, utterly still as it waited for a fish to bite. He was reading all kinds of reports delivered by elven scouts and adventurers, reports on changes throughout the world. He knew well that isolationism was never the right path. Only by constantly following world affairs, continuously developing oneself, remaining open, and accepting new things could one stay strong forever.

In the Eastern Kingdoms, the Arathor Human Empire was flourishing and had begun exploring and developing the southern regions of the continent. Merith Winterwind, Hu Feng's disciple, had risen to prominence and become the pillar of the Arathor Empire's magical affairs. He had now been named Protector of the Realm Archmage. He taught generation after generation of young human mages and destroyed tribe after tribe of trolls.

Human lives were short. A hundred years was but the blink of an eye to elves, but to humans, it was an entire lifetime. Merith had already grown from that inexperienced young man into a stern middle-aged man. Throughout the human empire, people deeply respected this Archmage, who had personally established the Kirin Tor Council of Magic and devoted himself wholeheartedly to the human nation.

The Kirin Tor Council of Magic was humanity's first mage organization, marked by a purple eye. Everyone knew Merith had chosen it to pay tribute to his teacher, Hu Feng, Divine Emissary of the God of Magic. Every newly promoted mage and council member would hear Merith recount the Divine Emissary's deeds. Whenever he did, Merith would rarely reveal an expression of fervor and worship, something almost never seen on humanity's strongest mage. There were also rumors that, with Emperor Thoradin's support, Merith was researching a floating city like the legendary holy city of magic, Suramar, under his teacher's command.

Meanwhile, Lothar, Arathor's First General, received Emperor Thoradin's reward. He was granted a vast tract of land in the north of the continent, bordering the High Elf kingdom of Quel'Thalas, as his domain. General Lothar was bestowed the surname "Menethil," and his vast, desolate territory was named Lordaeron.

However, Lordaeron's land was exceptionally fertile. As long as it was carefully managed, it would become a prosperous region within a few years. Trade caravans between the High Elves and humans all passed through Lordaeron, bringing both races the goods they needed while also creating tremendous commercial opportunities for Lordaeron. A magnificent city, the capital city bearing the territory's name, Lordaeron, was thus established.

At the same time, a Stromgarde Royal Prince caught in domestic political struggles chose self-exile with his followers, voluntarily heading for the southern lands of the continent. They traveled southward, forging friendly relations with dwarves and gnomes along the way. In the end, they stopped in a fertile region called Elwynn Forest, where they established their own domain, far from the brutal political struggles of their homeland.

They established Stormwind City there and called themselves the Stormwind Territory of the Arathor Empire. Before long, the first blue banner bearing a golden lion's head—the symbol of Stormwind City—flew from the highest point of Stormwind City's walls.

The High Elves continued to immerse themselves in magic, unable to pull free. With no external enemies, other than trading and interacting with humans, they shut themselves away at home.

Dath'Remar Sunstrider's health worsened by the day. Knowing that he did not have much time left, he began establishing a magical defense system surrounding all of Quel'Thalas. Countless towering Rune Stones were carved and erected, forming an enormous magical barrier that firmly enclosed Quel'Thalas within.

Alleria led her Windrunner Family in commanding the Ranger Corps, patrolling the forests of Quel'Thalas day after day. Yet everyone knew that more than half her heart had already drifted across the Endless Sea, to someone idling beneath the World Tree. Whenever there was news concerning the Night Elves, Alleria would be the first to read it over and over, as though searching for traces of that person and what he had done.

Several shortsighted High Elf nobles had also set their sights on Alleria's beauty and the power of the Ranger Corps under her command, hoping to marry into her family. Their fates were so miserable they might as well have sunk to the bottom of the Endless Sea.

Dath'Remar looked at the foolish nobles before him with a faintly amused smile. These people seemed to still be immersed in the glory of the past, believing that being born into magical families meant they could manipulate a ranger family however they pleased.

To them, Dath'Remar offered only one sentence: "Take care of yourselves. If I were you, I would immediately bring gifts and beg Alleria for forgiveness. Otherwise, if you anger that being, the holy city of Suramar might appear above your homes the very next day and fire an Arcane railgun at you. Even if that person is too lazy to hold it against you, all they need to do is speak with the God of Magic and make a small report. If the god sends down Divine Punishment or ceases to protect the High Elves, then just wait to be slaughtered as sacrifices for the god."

From then on, Alleria changed from a delectable prize in the eyes of the nobles into an untouchable black hole. Nobles came one after another bearing gifts, then fled amid endless flattery. The Ranger Corps became Alleria's personal domain, and no one dared insert their own people to interfere anymore.

The humans also joined in the commotion. The Lord of Lordaeron and Protector of the Realm Archmage Merith both declared that whoever dared set their sights on Alleria would have them to answer to first. Alleria merely watched these farces quietly and voiced no opinion, continuing to faithfully carry out her duties as a ranger. Yet the occasional smile that appeared on her face proved that the ranger general was in a good mood. Sylvanas, the second daughter of the Windrunner Family, followed at her sister's side. She had just reached the required age and officially become a newly promoted ranger. Seeing her sister's rare happiness, she could not quite understand it.

"Sis, is that Divine Emissary Hu Feng... really that frightening? Those annoying nobles all looked like startled landstriders the moment they heard his name. And... that name sounds so strange."

Alleria paused, then chuckled softly. "He isn't frightening. He's just a shameless rogue. The God of Magic must regret choosing him as a Divine Emissary~"

Looking at her sister's radiant smile and the longing in her eyes, Sylvanas silently committed this Divine Emissary who had stolen her sister's heart to memory.

On the other side of the sea lay the Kalimdor Continent.

Hu Feng read those reports as though he had personally experienced everything within them. The faces and voices of every person surfaced one by one in his mind.

The Eastern Kingdoms had already embarked on a flourishing path of development, so Kalimdor could not fall behind. As the supreme authority of the Night Elves, he had to do something, didn't he? Having seen the future, Hu Feng knew the course of established history. For the dark tide that would soon cross the Dark Portal and sweep across the world, Hu Feng decided to begin preparing early.

That stretch of The Barrens in central eastern Kalimdor would make a fine place for those future outsiders. Of course, the prerequisite was beating them into obedience first.