Deren Talks About Dalaran

A dazzling arcane radiance flashed in the Central Courtyard of the Violet Citadel, tearing open an azure rift in space. Jaina Proudmoore stepped out of the Portal, the scent of sea breeze still clinging to her cloak. Deren hurried after her, curiously looking around this city of magic.

"Master Antonidas," Jaina said impatiently as she pulled Deren into her teacher's office, "forgive our sudden visit, but the situation is urgent."

The old mage lifted his head from a heavy tome, his gaze sweeping over the two of them. He looked at Deren, a thin young human who did not seem like a mage.

Jaina quickly introduced him. "This is Deren Losen, my Tactical Advisor."

"So young," the old mage said, his tone utterly flat. But Deren knew he was being underestimated.

"Jaina," Antonidas said slowly as he rose to his feet, "what wind has blown you here from Theramore?"

"The wind of the Undead, Master." A trace of gravity flashed through Jaina's blue eyes. "Quel'Thalas is burning. Kael'thas has already come to me. My advisor believes we should act."

"It seems," the old mage said in a voice as low as thunder, "that we need to have a proper talk."

Inside the Council Chamber of the Violet Citadel, heavy Magic Tomes cast shadows across the long table, while the Crystal Ball reflected the burning skies of distant Quel'Thalas. Antonidas stood by the window, his aged knuckles lightly tapping his staff, his expression grave.

Jaina stood before the table with Deren and said anxiously, "Master, Quel'Thalas can't hold on much longer."

Antonidas did not turn around. He merely said quietly, "Dalaran does not interfere in the internal affairs of other nations."

"But if Silvermoon City falls, who will be the Scourge's next target?" Deren countered. "Lordaeron has already fallen, Gilneas has shut itself off from the world, and Kul Tiras lies far out at sea—can Dalaran truly remain untouched?"

Antonidas fell silent for a moment before finally turning around, his sharp gaze settling on the letter in Deren's hand.

"Prince Kael'thas has not formally requested aid. If we act rashly, the Council will only be dragged into political disputes."

The corners of Deren's lips lifted as he spread the parchment across the table.

"No. He already has."

The writing on the parchment was neat yet hurried, and the flamboyant signature at the end clearly had been written under extreme pressure. But the most eye-catching thing was the seal below—not the official royal seal of Quel'Thalas, but a personal insignia: a crest of phoenix and flame, Kael'thas's own mark.

"This is... the prince's personal seal?" Antonidas frowned.

"King Anasterian and the Silvermoon Council have already lost contact. Whether they are dead or alive is unknown." Deren's voice was low but firm. "Kael'thas is now Quel'Thalas's highest authority. His seal should count as an official state document."

Antonidas stared at the mark, his knuckles tightening slightly.

"How can you be sure this letter is genuine?"

Deren took a faintly glowing Phoenix Pendant from his robes and gently placed it beside the letter.

"This is Kael'thas's token. He gave it to me personally. Silvermoon City is surrounded now, and the official royal seal may already have been lost, but this mark is enough to represent his will."

Antonidas's gaze shifted between the letter and the pendant. At last, he slowly let out a breath.

"Even so, Dalaran's neutral position..."

"This isn't interference in internal affairs, Speaker," Deren cut him off. "This is fulfilling magic's duty to help magic."

Antonidas was silent for a moment, his fingertips lightly tapping the table as his gaze fell upon the Request for Aid Deren had brought. After a pause, he finally spoke, his voice low and cautious.

"Even if Kael'thas's request is genuine, Dalaran cannot directly enter the war. We are not an army, and we have no obligation to hold back the Scourge for Quel'Thalas."

Deren had expected that answer. The corners of his lips rose slightly.

"Speaker, we don't need to enter the war." He leaned forward, his tone certain. "We only need to send an elite Mage Squad, open Portals, and evacuate the surviving High Elves."

Antonidas frowned slightly, seeming to weigh the pros and cons. Deren did not give him much time to think and immediately added,

"For every elf we save, there is one less Undead."

The words struck Antonidas's blind spot like a precise Arcane Missile. His fingers paused, and his eyes flickered slightly.

Deren pressed the advantage.

"Especially elven mages—every one who dies becomes another undead mage."

Antonidas's breathing hitched almost imperceptibly.

What did undead mages mean? It meant the Scourge would grow even stronger. It meant Dalaran would face even more powerful enemies in the future.

Watching his expression, Deren continued to raise the stakes.

"Besides, many of the High Elf civilians in Silvermoon City are Magic Craftsmen. For centuries, they have made magic orbs, rune weapons, arcane cores... There is no second group like them anywhere in the Eastern Kingdoms."

At last, Antonidas's expression changed.

Magic Craftsmen.

What Dalaran lacked most were Magic Craftsmen.

High Elf craftsmanship was irreplaceable—their enchanting techniques, rune forging, and the cutting and charging of Magic Crystals were all priceless. If these talents died in Silvermoon City, or worse, became Undead serving the Scourge...

"These craftsmen will need somewhere to make a living in the future," Deren said meaningfully, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.

"Perhaps Dalaran could give them an opportunity?"

Antonidas's fingers finally stopped tapping.

His eyes narrowed slightly, sharp and profound, as though he had already seen the future—High Elf craftsmen working intently in Dalaran's workshops, carving Magic Crystals, their skills bringing unprecedented prosperity to the City of Violet.

"...You're right." He nodded slowly, his voice low and resolute.

"This isn't entering the war."

"This is... talent acquisition."

Deren smiled.

Antonidas lifted his gaze from the Request for Aid, though his frown had not eased.

"Even if we send a Mage Squad, it is still risky to penetrate the enemy's lines without sufficient Melee Guards." His fingers lightly rubbed his staff, his voice low. "The High Elf ranger forces have already collapsed, and the streets of Silvermoon City are packed with Undead. If our mages are engaged at close range, the consequences will be unimaginable."

Jaina quickly added from the side, "That problem... has already been solved."

Antonidas raised a brow. "Oh?"

Jaina hurriedly explained, "I have already borrowed a Royal Guard Elite unit from my father. They are currently standing by in Theramore."

Antonidas's gaze fell on Jaina, and she nodded to confirm it.

"The Royal Guards of Kul Tiras?"

"The best of the best." Deren nodded. "Admiral Daelin's Bodyguard Squad. Every one of them is a battle-hardened warrior, specially trained to form defensive lines around spellcasters."

Antonidas pondered for a moment before slowly asking, "Admiral Daelin also supports your plan of action?"

Deren shrugged. "What do you think?!"

Antonidas narrowed his eyes. "He wouldn't send out his personal guards for no reason. There must be a reason?"

Deren smiled without answering and merely continued.

"If the Speaker agrees, Jaina can personally lead the team and join us through the Portal with the guards."

Antonidas's fingertips lightly tapped the table as he sank into thought.

The guards of Kul Tiras, along with Jaina's support... that would indeed greatly improve the operation's safety.

"Jaina's position..." he said quietly. "Does Admiral Daelin know?"

Deren's smile faded slightly, and his tone turned serious.

"Lady Jaina knows exactly what she is doing. Rather than wait for the Scourge to reach Dalaran's gates, it would be better to weaken them in advance."

Antonidas nodded slowly, finally showing a trace of approval.

"Very well," he said gravely. "With Kul Tiras's guards present, our mages will at least not be dragged into close-quarters chaos."

Deren gave a slight bow, a glimmer of victory flashing in his eyes.

"Then, Speaker, can we begin drafting the Rescue List?"

Antonidas looked once more at the burning Silvermoon City in the Crystal Ball and slowly said, "Summon the Council."

In a quiet small meeting room in Dalaran, several core Council Members were listening to Deren's report.

Someone questioned him in a low voice, "Have you calculated how many Magic Crystals it will consume to teleport an elite squad to Silvermoon City from afar, then bring back a large number of refugees?"

Prepared for this, Deren took out a roll of parchment covered in dense writing. "A Promissory Note personally signed by Prince Kael'thas. He will reimburse all Rescue Costs."

"This is absurd!" Archmage Morthos abruptly rose to his feet, his robe knocking over an ink bottle on the table. "All this just to save a few elves."

"Without these elves, Quel'Thalas will cease to exist forever," Deren interrupted calmly. "Only by saving these mages and civilian craftsmen will the High Elves have a future. Otherwise, what would he be? A prince with nothing but an empty title?"

The Council Chamber suddenly fell silent. Antonidas's fingers froze in midair, and a gleam flashed through his eyes.

"Go on." The old mage's voice suddenly became exceptionally calm.

Deren stepped forward and lowered his voice. "More importantly, the Undead have already occupied the Sunwell. They can't possibly leave such a treasure unused. It has most likely already been corrupted."

Antonidas's knuckles turned slightly white. Everyone knew what that meant—the Undead's magical power would become even stronger.

"But this expense..." Treasurer Lester said with difficulty. "After the war, whether Quel'Thalas can..."

"We can put it on Theramore's account for now," Deren said quickly. "Lady Jaina has already agreed to provide a Temporary Credit Guarantee."

Antonidas suddenly sneered. "Using Kul Tiras's gold to fill Dalaran's hole? What will Daelin think when he finds out?"

Deren showed a sly smile. "That's why I simply had Quel'Thalas use the Sunwell and Silvermoon City as collateral."

A chorus of sharp breaths filled the Council Chamber. Archmage Morthos's beard trembled. "Have you lost your mind? That would be equivalent to..."

"It would ensure that we always have a stable supply of magic power," Deren pointed out calmly. "And it is only a temporary mortgage. Once Quel'Thalas is rebuilt, the Sunwell will still need to be purified, but I believe it is worth it. Gentlemen, what are your opinions?"

Antonidas suddenly raised a hand, cutting off all discussion. The old mage slowly rose to his feet, his staff striking the floor with a heavy knock.

"Use some Magic Crystals," he said gravely, "in exchange for temporary usage rights to the Sunwell. This transaction..." A sharp glint flashed through his eyes. "It is very fair."

Deren bowed deeply, an almost imperceptible smile curling his lips. He knew that he had won another round in this game.

"I will immediately contact Lady Jaina to prepare the teleportation coordinates." As he turned away, he heard Antonidas's final words.

"Remember, Deren, we are saving the future of magical civilization, not taking advantage of a crisis."

Deren's steps paused slightly, but he did not turn around. "Of course, Speaker. Purely for academic exchange."

When the doors of the Council Chamber closed behind him, Deren finally let his victorious smile spread fully across his face. He touched another Mortgage Agreement he had drafted long ago, hidden in his robes—the clauses regarding the Sunwell's Mana Allocation Ratio were something Antonidas knew absolutely nothing about.

That was the fourth update. Wishing everyone a pleasant evening. No need for votes or bookmarks. I'm exhausted.