Arcane Gas Alliance

At noon in Theramore Harbor, the salty sea breeze carried the stench of fish straight into their faces. Sailors hauling cargo suddenly stopped in their tracks, staring dumbfounded at the blinding arcane radiance flaring across the open dockyard—a Teleportation Array of this scale was normally reserved for emergency military deployments, and the Magic Crystals consumed in a single use were worth half a year's profits for an ordinary merchant.

Runes scorched black marks into the ground, while the pungent smell of ozone filled the air. Three short green figures stepped out of the warped curtain of light, their polished crocodile-leather boots clicking crisply against the wooden pier.

"Time is money, friend!"

The leading green skin's booming voice frightened off the nearby seagulls. He wore a crimson cloak embroidered with gold thread, every one of his ten fingers laden with gem-studded rings. Even his pointed ears bore heavy mithril earrings. Behind him, two accountants in monocles frantically worked jewel-encrusted calculators, their crystal lenses reflecting dazzling streams of numbers.

Deren leaned against a cargo crate and waved at the Goblin.

"Brother Deren, hello!" Rivendare replied enthusiastically. "I can smell gold coins. Look at how quick Lady Jaina's Teleportation Array is—time is money. I'm sure this is another major deal."

Deren accompanied the Goblin Prince toward the city and lowered his voice. "An absolutely major deal." As he spoke, he glanced at the two Goblin Accountants behind them. The Prince caught on immediately and waved a hand. The accountants ran far away, leaving no one nearby.

"Old friend, hurry and tell me. What business is it? I can barely wait."

Deren kept his voice low. "You know Silvermoon City was overrun by the Undead some time ago, right?"

Rivendare nodded. "That's right. Those women from Quel'Thalas fled to Dalaran. I have business there."

Deren tempted him. "When those High Elf nobles escaped, they must have stuffed their Space Bags with the most valuable things from their homes. That's the essence Quel'Thalas accumulated over thousands of years. Now they're gathered in Dalaran. Everything they eat, drink, and enjoy has to be bought. Every last one of them is a walking money bag."

Rivendare considered his words. "But, Brother Deren, even if the profits are high, they're not enough to make me use a Teleportation Array to rush over here. For Fertilizer's sake, hurry up and tell me the truth."

Seeing that the Goblin had not taken the bait, Deren did not get annoyed. He led him and the accountants onto a carriage. "That's right. I'll show you something first."

The carriage soon entered Theramore and wound its way into a newly built neighborhood. Rivendare stepped down and discovered that the area was full of High Elves. Judging by their clothes, they all looked like ordinary civilians.

As soon as Deren got out, Sylvanas came over and asked, "Deren, are you here to check on the Mana Addiction treatment progress too?"

"Yes. Is Jaina treating them?"

"She hasn't come yet. Only two people are having episodes today." Sylvanas spoke with some sadness. Then she noticed the Goblin beside him and hurriedly asked, "Why is there a Goblin here? What is he doing here?"

"You know Goblins have connections everywhere, so I brought him to see whether there's a way to completely cure Mana Addiction." Deren made it up without missing a beat.

"Then come with me." Sylvanas led the way. The Goblin silently followed without saying anything.

They entered a newly built courtyard, where two High Elves were shackled in iron chains. Veins bulged across their bodies, their eyes had rolled white, and their limbs convulsed violently. The Goblin jumped in fright. Deren briefly explained what Mana Addiction was.

Rivendare's eyes immediately lit up. "You're saying every High Elf can suffer from this illness, called Mana Addiction. Only absorbing magic can ease it."

Deren nodded. "That's right. And the more they used to enjoy the Sunwell's magic, the worse their Mana Addiction episodes are now."

The Goblin asked, "Arcane Crystals are expensive. You can't possibly give them to these civilian Elves, can you?"

Deren said, "Exactly. Even nobles can't use crystals to solve Mana Addiction in the long term. Never mind whether there are enough crystals—if there were, they still couldn't afford them."

As they spoke, Jaina's Portal opened nearby. Seeing Deren and the Goblin in the courtyard, she gave a brief nod before taking out an Arcane Gas cylinder and beginning her spell. Soon, the two Mana-Addicted Elves who inhaled the gas began laughing madly. Their symptoms started to ease. After more than ten minutes of laughter, the two Elves were exhausted and gasping for breath, but their sanity gradually returned.

Rivendare jumped three feet into the air and exclaimed, "This is incredible! What kind of secret is this?"

Deren smiled at the Goblin. "A gas that makes people unable to stop laughing." He took out a small test tube and handed it to him. "You can try it. Pull out the wooden stopper and take a breath."

Rivendare backed away fearfully, but after thinking of the big business, he stepped forward and took the tube. He inhaled once. Less than three seconds later, the Goblin was laughing and rolling around on the ground, shouting, "Gold coins, so many gold coins! They're all mine, all mine!" His hands made grasping motions as though gathering coins. The two Goblin Accountants were frightened and wanted to help their boss up. Deren waved them off. "It's fine. It just causes a few brief associations. It'll pass soon."

The Goblin laughed for a full twenty minutes before recovering from the gas's effects. He sat up from the ground, looked around, and saw no gold coins anywhere. Only then did he say to Deren in disappointment, "What a shame. The gold coins I saw were fake. But this gas really packs a punch. I'm in."

Deren and Jaina exchanged smiles. Sylvanas felt that something bad was about to happen. But right now, she only wanted to manage Theramore properly.

Jaina teleported Deren and the Goblins back to her meeting room, where Thrall's massive figure sat boredly picking at his fingers.

Once everyone had taken their seats, Deren began the meeting.

Jaina spoke first. "Everyone has learned about the laugh-inducing Arcane Gas, right? It can ease High Elves' Mana Addiction."

"High Elves' Mana Addiction is not an illness," she said in a calm, clear voice. "It is inevitable."

Thrall leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed, Doomhammer resting diagonally against his shoulder. A thoughtful glint flickered in his eyes. "Inevitable?"

"They lived under the Sunwell's magical influence for thousands of years. Now they have lost its supply of magic. It's like an alcoholic without alcohol. Irritable, frenzied, craving anything with magic in it. Perhaps civilians had fewer chances to use magic, so their symptoms are milder and they can quit through willpower." Jaina lightly tapped the table with her fingertips. "But the nobles? Their bodies have long been saturated with the Sunwell's magic. Every cell in their bodies is screaming for magic."

Onyxia's soft laugh came from the shadows. A cluster of black flames ignited at her slender fingertips as she mocked, "Like a Goblin's obsession with gold coins—impossible to quit."

Deren spread his hands. "For Arcane Crystals, they will first sell their inherited enchanted items, then their children and relatives... When they have nothing left to sell, they will steal, rob, and even kill for a bottle of inferior arcane potion. Once they are driven out and discriminated against for those crimes, they will descend into the darkest corruption, selling their souls to anyone willing to let them consume any kind of magic."

Thrall's expression turned grave. "Demons..." He knew too well how easily demons could tempt a group of people desperate for magic into corruption.

"So laugh-inducing Arcane Gas is an alternative treatment." Jaina cut him off, her azure eyes meeting everyone's gaze. "It is not a cure, but it can shift their attention from Mana Addiction to laughter addiction. At least Arcane Gas does not require them to sell their souls."

Thrall asked solemnly, "What do you need me to do? I may not like those long ears, but I can't just watch them side with demons."

Deren unfolded a blueprint, covering the table with diagrams of complex pipes and Reactors. "Producing Arcane Gas requires three stages—heating, pressurizing, and cooling." He pointed at the three nodes on the plans. "We need the most precise elemental control. Precise manipulation of fire, wind, and ice."

Onyxia's red lips curled upward. "The Fire Elementals are mine. I am the master of flame."

Thrall nodded, wind elements gathering in his palm into a miniature tornado. "The Horde will handle pressurization."

Jaina's ice crystals spread across the blueprint, freezing a patch of frost into existence. "Theramore will handle cooling."

Rivendare suddenly jumped onto his chair, his yellow eyes spinning excitedly. "What about sales? You can't expect me to haggle with those annoying long ears, can you?"

"You only need to do two things." Deren raised two fingers. "First, ensure the gas is sold only to High Elves. Second, set the price at exactly what they can barely afford—but at a level that requires installment payments."

The Goblin Prince's ears perked up. "Aha! Make them stay in debt forever!"

"No. I need ownership of the Sunwell." Deren smiled.

Jaina asked in confusion, "Are you crazy? The Sunwell has already been contaminated by the Undead. What do you want it for?"

"Secret!" Deren made a shushing gesture.

"That's no problem. If the Quel'Thalas nobles learn that a contaminated pool can still get them a huge loan, they'll probably laugh in their sleep," the Goblin said without concern.

"Fine, then let's discuss the shares of the Arcane Gas Alliance." Deren looked toward Jaina.

Jaina struck the ground with her staff. Icy cold swept across the table, drawing everyone's attention back. "Distribution plan: Goblins, 30%; Deren and Onyxia, 30%; Theramore and the Horde, 20% each."

Thrall frowned. "The Horde only needs 15%. The remaining 5%..." He looked at Jaina. "Establish a relief fund for Elves who genuinely want to quit Mana Addiction. Orcs have had old grudges with Elves before."

Onyxia sneered. "Naive." But at Deren's meaningful look, she still shrugged. "Do as you please."

"Terms." Jaina's voice suddenly sharpened, ice crystals floating around her. "First, Elves who swear loyalty to Theramore receive free supplies. Second, Goblins may not sell to other races. Third—" She looked directly at Rivendare. "Transporting gas is small money. If we can obtain mortgage rights to the Sunwell and Silvermoon City, the Sunwell belongs to me, and Silvermoon City belongs to the Goblins."

The Goblin Prince swallowed and said quietly, "...Deal. But the Sunwell and Silvermoon City are both occupied by the Undead now. What use are mortgage rights?"

Deren explained with a smile, "The Undead are powerful now, but forces resisting them are gathering as well. Azeroth has plenty of hidden powers. The Scourge is only a small mortal war. Once the Undead are defeated in the future and the Sunwell and Silvermoon City are reclaimed, the High Elves will need our approval if they want them back."

"Wow, wonderful! Then we'll gouge them hard." The Goblin leaped up and nearly jumped onto the table.

Deren gestured to Jaina. She pulled a signed note from a stack of documents and handed it to the Goblin. "This is an IOU personally signed by Prince Kael'thas of Quel'Thalas. Of course, it is a copy."

The Goblin took it and read through it, then jumped again. "Wow, Prince Kael'thas agreed to use the Sunwell and Silvermoon City as collateral to reimburse your side for the cost of sending troops to rescue Silvermoon City. The expense list is attached. They need to repay Theramore and Dalaran a total of forty thousand gold coins."

"Take this note to Kael'thas first. If you can collect the money, you take 10%, while Dalaran and Theramore split the rest equally. Even if you cannot collect it, secure formal mortgage documents. You should be familiar with this sort of thing." Deren spoke blandly, then added, "There is only Undead and death in Silvermoon City now. They have no use for gold and jewels. So the wealth the Elves accumulated over thousands of years is waiting for us to dig it up."

The Goblin beamed. "No one can default on a debt to Goblins. Don't worry, leave it to me."

This was the second update. Since it involved a fictional alchemical product like laugh-inducing Arcane Gas, it might trigger sensitive-word revisions. Chapter 42 had to be revised three times before it met the requirements. I'm treading carefully on thin ice. Please bear with me.