Three Artifacts: Kael'thas's Wrath

Morning light from the Violet Citadel streamed through stained glass, casting fractured patches of light across Kael'thas Sunstrider's desk. The prince's slender fingers hovered in midair as ink gathered at the tip of his quill and dripped onto the parchment, spreading into a dark purple stain.

He had held that pose for far too long.

Outside, Dalaran's morning bells had rung three times, yet the audience hall, which should have been crowded, stood empty. No nobles weeping about Mana Addiction attacks, no envoys kneeling and begging for crystal quotas, not even anyone attending the routine administrative briefings. This unnatural quiet was more unsettling than any clamor.

"Velas." Kael'thas suddenly spoke, his voice stirring a faint echo through the empty hall.

The attendant appeared like a ghost from behind a colonnade, the gold-trimmed cuffs of his sleeves trembling slightly. "Your Highness?"

"Where are the people from the Starfall family?" The prince tapped the tabletop lightly with his pen, the rhythm like drums before an execution. "Where is the Firewing family's representative? Where is the logistics officer from the Sunfury Legion?"

The attendant's Adam's apple bobbed. "They... sent servants with leave requests."

"Leave?" Kael'thas gave a soft laugh as a layer of frost suddenly formed over his crystal wineglass. "Since when did Mana Addiction learn to read a calendar?"

Velas dug his fingertips deeply into his palm. As an old servant who had served the Sunstrider royal family for centuries, he knew all too well what kind of storm brewed beneath the prince's calm tone.

"Perhaps... perhaps they found a way to ease it..."

The quill snapped with a crack. Kael'thas slowly raised his head. Morning light flowed over his golden hair, yet it could not reach those cold eyes. "Explain."

Cold sweat slid down the attendant's temples. He remembered what he had seen yesterday at the Starfall family's back entrance—three High Mages crouched in a corner like Goblin miners, taking turns inhaling from a silver tube and laughing until tears and snot streamed down their faces. Worse still, when one of them saw him, he had eagerly waved him over. "Come try it! It's much cheaper than crystals!"

"It's... called Arcane Gas." Velas's voice was barely louder than a mosquito's buzz. "They say... it can make them forget Mana Addiction for a while."

The sound of the crystal glass exploding made the attendant drop to his knees. Flames in Kael'thas's palm burned the parchment to ash, and the black flakes fluttered through the beam of light like dark butterflies.

"Ridiculous Arcane Gas?" The prince gently repeated the absurd name. "My subjects... would rather become so lowly... than come beg their prince?"

But you do not have many crystals left to give them. Velas silently complained.

Kael'thas waved a hand and dismissed him.

After Velas scrambled out, Kael'thas stood before a full-length silver mirror. His reflection was still perfect—golden hair like molten sunlight, skin more lustrous than the finest Moonlight Silk, even his fingertips giving off a faint arcane glow.

But beneath that perfect exterior, something was rotting.

Not bothering to dwell on it, he cast a Teleportation Spell.

Kael'thas stood before the gates of the Firewing family estate, Arcane Energy gathered at his fingertips warping the air slightly. This elven manor, once renowned for its elegance, now had its doors and windows sealed shut. Strange halos shone through the heavy velvet curtains—something more like an alchemical product than pure arcane radiance.

Two guards wearing armor bearing the Starfall family crest blocked the entrance. Their stances were slack, their eyes unfocused; they looked nothing like disciplined elven warriors.

"Your Highness..." one guard rasped, "the lord ordered... no visitors."

Kael'thas's pupils narrowed slightly. A foolish grin hung at the corner of the guard's mouth, and even his sword was hanging the wrong way around.

"Move." The prince's voice was colder than an eternal glacier.

The guard shook his head, then suddenly began to giggle. "You should try it... it's much happier than being a prince..."

The enraged prince unleashed his arcane magic. A ball of searing flame formed before Kael'thas, and the instant the blaze blasted open the gates, a shocking sight met him head-on. His long hair was tossed up by the shockwave, revealing his suddenly constricted pupils—

Lomar Firewing, head of the Firewing family, lay sprawled beneath the Crystal Chandelier, laughing madly. His wife was sprawled across the carpet, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.

In a corner, their eldest son—Alysande, once the recipient of Dalaran's Young Scholar Award—was stroking an empty wine bottle. "Father! The bottle... hahaha... looks like Antonidas's bald head!"

Kael'thas stood where he was, rage spreading from beneath his feet as though it had substance, eventually becoming a blaze that enveloped him.

"You..." The prince's voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. "How dare you?"

The head of the Firewing family staggered to his feet and hastily bowed. "Your Highness! You should try this!" He pulled an engraved silver bottle from his sleeve and offered it as if presenting a treasure. "No Arcane Crystals, no calculating how much remains in your money pouch."

Kael'thas stared at the silver bottle. A line of tiny words was written on its label: "Arcane Gas—Breathe More Freely."

He suddenly remembered his father's twig-like fingers, Velas's hesitant expression, and the nobles on Dalaran's streets who had abruptly stopped coming to beg him for crystals.

So they had not found a way to suppress Mana Addiction.

They had fallen so low that they no longer wanted even their dignity. Beneath that hysterical laughter, where was the Quel'dorei elegance and pride? If you no longer came to me for crystals, was the prince still a prince?

An arcane storm gathered in Kael'thas's palm, and every glass object in the hall shattered at once. Amid the frightened cries of children, he seized the Firewing family head by the throat and slammed him viciously against the wall.

"Who gave it to you?" The prince's golden eyes burned with a fury hotter than Fel Energy. "Where did this filthy thing come from?"

The family head's eyes bulged from lack of air, yet he continued to grin foolishly. "G-Goblins... three... three gold coins a can... not expensive, but it eases Mana Addiction—except you can't stop laughing. And you don't have to run off and beg for your crystal charity anymore."

Kael'thas released him and let him slump to the floor like mud. He turned toward the door, ice crystals spreading behind him to form a deathly pale path.

"From this day onward." His voice echoed through the silent estate. "Any elf using this ridiculous gas will be charged with a serious crime."

As he crossed the threshold, Lady Firewing's hysterical scream rang out behind him. "You don't understand at all! At least... it's better than suffering while sober! Without it, we can't endure Mana Addiction!"

Kael'thas did not look back. His fingertips dug deeply into his palm, letting blood flow freely.

Back in the private laboratory deep within the Violet Citadel, Kael'thas stared at the silver gas canister confiscated from the Firewing family. It gleamed coldly beneath an arcane lamp, while suspicious mist drifted slowly along the glass interior, tempting him like some living creature.

"Your Highness, are you really going to...?" Velas's voice trembled, the old attendant clutching a cloth embroidered with purification runes tightly in his hands.

Kael'thas did not answer. His slender fingers brushed the bottle, feeling the energy fluctuations within—not arcane, not Fel Energy, but a kind of tranquility he had never encountered before, one that was almost blasphemous.

"At least... it's better than suffering while sober!"

Lady Firewing's scream echoed through his mind again.

The prince suddenly pulled out the stopper—

The first second, nothing happened.

The second second, he tasted beans on his tongue, like some foul-smelling seafood.

The third second—

"Pfft... hahahaha!"

Kael'thas Sunstrider, the Quel'dorei Sun Prince, Dalaran's most elegant mage, suddenly laughed so hard that he doubled over. His crown clattered to the floor, and his carefully braided golden hair scattered like straw. His reflection in the mirror twisted into a ridiculous figure, the folds of his violet robes resembling a mocking face.

"V-Velas!" Tears streamed down his face as he laughed, pointing at the old attendant's twitching face. "Your wrinkles... hahaha... look like a map trampled by Trolls!"

The attendant backed away in terror and knocked over a rack of reagents. Amid the sound of shattering glass, Kael'thas saw his treasured Sunwell Water crystal specimen—the priceless treasure known as the "Tear of Eternal Day"—and it suddenly looked exactly like a cheap glass marble. That thought made him laugh even harder, until he slid to the floor with his long legs stretched out absurdly before him.

Ten minutes later, when the gas's effects faded, the prince found himself curled up in a corner of the laboratory, his palms covered in bloody nail marks.

Kael'thas rose unsteadily, his long hair stuck to his sweat-soaked forehead. The man in the mirror felt unfamiliar—faint laugh lines still lingered at the corners of his mouth, but an anger more terrible than Mana Addiction burned in his eyes.

"Velas." His voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like his own. "Bring me the person in charge of the Goblin trade consortium."

The old attendant swallowed. "But Archmage Antonidas said—"

"I said," Kael'thas raised a hand and blasted the attendant out with instantaneous arcane magic, "now."

Not long after, the Goblin merchant Gregory Rustfang, bound up like a dumpling by Arcane Chains, hung in the center of the laboratory, his yellow eyes rolling wildly. Kael'thas slowly wiped a crystal dagger, the reflected glint moving across the Goblin's face.

"Name."

"G-Gregory Rustfang, honored sir! Legitimate merchant! I have a license!"

"Where did you get the goods?"

The Goblin's green face suddenly stiffened. "This... free trade..."

The crystal dagger suddenly plunged into the Goblin's flesh. Amid his scream, Kael'thas leaned close to that twisted face. "I'll ask again. Who?"

"The goods came from Theramore!" The Goblin wept and sobbed. "All the elves there are inhaling this. Our boss found a way to get some out. He thought the elves in Dalaran would want it too. It can make a fortune."

Another stab.

"Sales records." Kael'thas held out his hand. "A list of every elf who purchased this filthy thing."

Gregory suddenly wore a smile uglier than crying. "Trade secret... aaah!"

This time, the dagger sank another half inch. When the Goblin's screams gradually turned into groans, Kael'thas pulled a roll of parchment from the Space Bag at his waist. The instant he unfolded it, his pupils shrank sharply—

The list prominently included:

Starfall family (purchase quantity: 47 bottles)

Firewing family (purchase quantity: 63 bottles)

Sunfury Legion Logistics Department (purchase quantity: 120 bottles)

Council of Six member Aethas Sunstrider (purchase quantity: 12 bottles)

That final name made Kael'thas's hand tremble slightly. Aethas was his staunchest supporter in Dalaran.

When the faint light before dawn filtered through the stained glass, the blood-covered Gregory was thrown out of the Violet Citadel. Kael'thas stood on the balcony, clutching the bloodstained list in his hand.

"Issue the order," he told the trembling Velas. "From this day onward, ridiculous gas is classified as contraband. Possession earns thirty lashes; selling it earns hanging."

The old attendant opened his mouth. "But the Council—"

"Tell them," Kael'thas said, gazing in Theramore's direction as dawn painted his golden hair blood-red, "this alchemical waste gas will never be allowed to sully the Quel'dorei's glory. High Elves shall always live with elegance. I, Kael'thas, swear to eliminate every filthy blasphemy."

"But what about the crystals? They need crystals to resolve their Mana Addiction," the old attendant asked quietly.

"I'll think of a way to handle the crystals later." Kael'thas adjusted his collar and told Velas, "I'm going to Theramore first. Keep an eye on those nobles."

Second update. The second artifact, "Kael'thas's Wrath," has appeared. The final artifact will be revealed tomorrow morning. Please continue to vote and add this to your collection. The numbers have risen quite a bit during the new-book recommendation period. Thank you all for your support. The upcoming mini-climax will be even more exciting and wildly imaginative—absolutely beyond your expectations!