After reporting to the parliament, Rhonin came outside Krasus's private laboratory. His fingertips were hanging in front of the heavy oak door, but he was still unable to knock on it.
He took a deep breath and suppressed the complex emotions surging in his chest. (He couldn't put it off any longer.)
The sound of knuckles tapping on the wooden door was particularly clear in the silent corridor.
There was no response from the door.
Rhonin frowned and was about to knock on the door again when Krasus's voice sounded directly in his mind:
"Come in, kid."
The voice is gentle, but carries undoubted power.
Rhonin opened the door and was greeted by the familiar smell of herbs and sulfur. Krasus's laboratory will always be like an island forgotten by time, isolated from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. Candlelight flickers., reflecting the slender figure of Master Red Dragon - he was standing in front of a row of dragon scale specimens, his fingertips gently brushed a Red Dragon scale, and his golden vertical pupils flickered slightly in the dim light.
"Teacher." Rhonin stood still, his voice hoarse than expected.
Krasus did not look back, but continued to sort out the specimens. "You came later than I thought."
Rhonin was startled. (He already knew I was coming?)
"I applied to go to Northrend." He apologized to his instructor, "I'm sorry for not reporting to you in advance."
Krasus's hand paused for a moment. "What's the reason?" Master Red Dragon finally turned around and looked directly at Rhonin with his golden pupils.
Rhonin has already prepared his words: "Malygos's recent actions are becoming more and more unpredictable. The connection between Northrend Netherweave node and Dragonblight--"
"The real reason." Krasus interrupted him softly, "It's Vereesa·Windrunner, right?"
Ronin's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the scorch marks on his cuffs - they were left when Antonidas experimented with nitroglycerin. The explosion in the council chamber still seemed to be echoing in his ears, but what was clearer than that was the warmth of Vereesa's fingertips when she tugged on his cuffs in Theramore's market.
"Dalaran needs Arcane Gas, Theramore needs elf craftsmen." Rhonin stared at the red scales on the floor, "And I'm just a postman delivering letters."
Krasus was silent for a moment and suddenly sighed. "So you choose to run away? Just like you do when you deal with all emotional problems?"
Rhonin looked up sharply, only to see that the instructor's eyes were not reproachful, but an expression that was almost compassionate. The magic hourglass in the corner made a tinny sound, and grains of sand of time fell to the bottom.
"Northrend is becoming dangerous." Krasus finally said, his voice low. "Arthas--no, it should be called Death Knight now--his troops are stronger."
"Just in time to monitor Scourge's movements in Northrend." Rhonin forced a smile.
Krasus took a deep look at him, and suddenly reached out to hold his shoulders. Some kind of warm magic flowed into his blood vessels,
"Since you have made up your mind." Krasus took back his hand, turned and walked towards the bookshelf, "Take this with you."
He took out a ruby brooch from the hidden compartment. There seemed to be flames flowing inside the gem. "Crush it when your life is in danger." Master Red Dragon handed the brooch to Rhonin, "But remember - it can only be used once."
Rhonin took the brooch and the moment his fingertips touched the gem, a warm current surged into his heart. (This is Dragonblood Magic...)
"Thank you, mentor." He whispered, but did not dare to raise his head and look at Krasus.
Master Red Dragon stared at him quietly for a long time before softly saying, "You have changed, Rhonin."
Rhonin's body stiffened.
"I am no longer that reckless young man." Krasus's voice contained an imperceptible sigh, "Go ahead."
Rhonin bowed deeply, turned and left.
The moment he closed the door, his back was soaked with cold sweat.
(He noticed it.)
In the shadow of the corridor, Rhonin clutched the ruby brooch. Doubts over the years came like a flood--
Why is it that despite having made great achievements, he is always marginalized in Dalaran?
Why do every promotion opportunity inexplicably slip away?
Why can even outsiders like Vereesa see his situation, but Krasus - the mentor who claims to value him the most - never really fights for anything for him?
A wry smile appeared at the corner of Rhonin's mouth. (The answer may have been there for a long time, but he just didn't want to admit it.)
Krasus needs an obedient tool, not a truly independent mage.
And now, he finally had a chance to break free from this invisible prison. He thought to himself: Vereesa, forget me!
A few days later, when Vereesa stood in the middle of the square in the Dalaran Elf District, her short golden hair swaying gently in the breeze. In her hand, she held a parchment scroll - the "Elf Artisan Exchange Agreement" signed by Antonidas.
"One thousand two hundred elven craftsmen, plus civilians who voluntarily immigrated."
This number was more than she expected.
Around the square, High Elf people gathered together in twos and threes, chatting in low voices. Their eyes glanced at Vereesa from time to time, with hesitation and desire flashing in their eyes.
"Miss Windrunner," an older elf craftsman stepped forward and spoke in a very low voice, "Are you sure Theramore can provide enough Arcane Gas?"
Vereesa nodded, took out a test tube from Leather Pouch on his waist, and shook it slightly. "Ms. Jaina promised that every immigrant elf's Mana Addiction will receive free treatment."
The test tube reflected a dazzling halo in the sun, and a suppressed exclamation suddenly sounded around.
"But Kael'thas, His Highness..." The old craftsman hesitated to speak.
The corners of Vereesa's mouth tightened. She knew very well what her compatriots were worried about - the pride of Quel'dorei, the majesty of the royal family, and... the last dignity of the elf women who had become Dalaran's playthings.
"Listen," she lowered her voice, "At midnight in the next few days, the goblin airship will take off near the clock tower in the old city. There will be no registration and no review." She glanced at the crowd, "Those who want to come, decide for themselves."
A commotion spread among the elves.
In the corner, a thinly dressed elf girl clutched the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turning white. There were still rough bruises on her wrists.
"I've had enough." The girl suddenly raised her head, her voice trembling but firm, "I want to go."
This sentence was like a spark, igniting the long-suppressed firewood.
"Count me in."
"Me too."
"Take my sister..."
Vereesa looked at the renewed light in the eyes of his compatriots, and his chest felt slightly hot. (This is what Quel'dorei should look like.)
suddenly--
Boom!
A deafening explosion sounded in the distance, and the ground beneath his feet was shaking slightly. Vereesa instinctively held down the sword at his waist, but saw Dalaran that the residents just sighed as usual.
"Is this another experiment by Lord Antonidas?"
"This is the seventh time..."
Vereesa suddenly remembered something and grabbed a passing apprentice. "Rhonin Where is Master? I have something to give to him."
The apprentice scratched his head. "You can go find Krasus Archmage. Go over there, there is his magic tower. Rhonin is his student."
Vereesa walked all the way and asked, and found Krasus's magic tower. When he entered, there was a mage registering at the door. Seeing Vereesa's ranger dress, he stood up to greet her and asked her what she wanted. What kind of help do you need? When he learned that he was here to ask about the whereabouts of Rhonin, he said with a strange expression, "Master Rhonin is no longer in Dalaran. He went out to perform a secret mission."
Vereesa's fingers froze. (He left? He didn't even say goodbye?)
"Okay! Thank you." Vereesa was filled with disappointment. The distance between her and Rhonin was getting farther and farther.
Just when she was feeling depressed, a burst of red Arcane light suddenly flashed. Krasus walked out of Portal and looked at Vereesa gently. "You are Miss Vereesa. We met a long time ago."
Vereesa has a good memory. She immediately recognized that the mage in front of her was the one she had met when she went on an adventure to Grim Batol. She happily saluted him. "Hello, Archmage. We traveled together in Grim Batol."
Krasus nodded, waved his staff, and there was a space shift. The two were already in a starry sky. Krasus said slowly, "Rhonin set out for Northrend not long ago to perform the task of monitoring Blue Dragon. It may take a few years."
"Is that dangerous?" Vereesa asked urgently, "Why are you walking in such a hurry?" He was a little disappointed.
Krasus laughed loudly, "He is a spirited person, and his own strength is also strong. I believe he can come back alive."
"That's just to avoid me, right?" Vereesa was a little angry.
Krasus dian. "Maybe he can't face this relationship! This guy is already in his thirties, and he's still as ignorant as a young man. He has no choice but to walk away."
Vereesa took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He took out the letter entrusted by Jaina from his arms. "Then please forward it to Speaker Antonidas."
Krasus nodded, took the letter, and sent Vereesa out.
That night, the Dalaran night sky was illuminated by the sudden Arcane fireworks.
At the top of Violet Citadel, Antonidas's loud laughter echoed over the entire city--
The old mage laughed for a while before finally calming down. He looked at the test tube surrounded by ice and murmured to himself, "The low temperature is stable! That's it! Jaina This girl really did not disappoint me! Oh, the red-haired mage also reminded me that the temperature needs to be controlled. Haha, I am old and have a bad memory!"
Then he Void held up the test tube and carved a tiny fire array on the outer ice. Then he waved his staff and the test tube was carried high into the sky by a burst of air. With Eagle Eye's blessing, Antonidas watched the test tube successfully reach a height of several hundred meters, and then gently used magic power to detonate the magic circle on the ice. "Boom!" Dalaran Another shining firework exploded in the sky, but it was brighter and more deadly.
The old mage's ecstatic voice scared away a group of night crows. In his opinion, as long as the magic apprentice knows a little bit of wind and fire spells, or even just Mage Hand, he can use this glycerin product to greatly increase the lethality. The combat power of Dalaran will almost double.
On the other side, in various alleys in the Elf District, more and more figures are quietly packing their bags and heading towards the clock tower in the old city Stealth.
With broken pride and faint hope, they prepared to embark on the unknown journey to Theramore.
Vereesa stood on the top of the bell tower, the night wind blowing her short hair. She looked at the brightly lit Dalaran in the distance and clenched her fists gently.
At dawn, Kael'thas·Sunstrider stood beside the central fountain in the Dalaran Elf Zone, with his fingertips deeply pinched into his palms.
The fountain has long since dried up, and there are rotten leaves accumulating at the bottom of the pool. Just like his kingdom, the once glorious Quel'Thalas, now only remains are ruins.
"House 37." The guard beside him reported in a low voice, with uneasiness in his voice, "The Morrowind family's mansion was found empty this morning, and even the ancestral silverware was taken away."
Kael'thas's golden pupils shrank slightly. The Morrowind family - the ancient nobles who have served Sunstrider Dynasty for generations, even they chose to betray?
"Are they going to betray me?" Kael'thas's tone revealed anger, "Have they forgotten who helped them find shelter in Dalaran?"
"Go find Antonidas! I don't believe that Dalaran can watch all the elves run to Theramore." Kael'thas said through gritted teeth.
At the door of Antonidas's laboratory, the hem of Kael'thas's robe was covered in dust from the corridor. He had been standing there for two full hours, until the old mage finally opened a crack in the door impatiently.
"Dalaran Elf immigration must be prohibited!" The prince ignored the etiquette, "This is a violation of Quel'dorei tradition!"
The old mage still had the residue of glycerin explosives hanging on his eyebrows. "Then what? Let you continue to grab Arcane Crystal on the street? Or let my mages have to deal with fights caused by elf ladies going shopping every few days?"
Kael'thas had a sickly blush on his pale face: "We can rebuild--"
"Rebuild with Arcane Gas?" Antonidas sneered, "Save it, kid, your father is still alive but he hides all day long. What do you think it is for?"
Kael'thas regained his composure and advised patiently, "Your Excellency Antonidas, we High Elf are also an important supplement to Dalaran's defense force. Especially in the face of the threat of Undead's heavenly spirits. They need to organize themselves and become part of Dalaran's magical power."
"What about Mana Addiction?" Antonidas asked disdainfully, "We have consumed too much Arcane Crystal to give your elves relief Mana Addiction. Now that there is a substitute like Arcane Gas, why should we insist on rejecting any noble tradition?"
"But, Arcane Gas is so depraved, Quel'dorei has lost his dignity and pride, what is left?" Kael'thas is still distinguishing.
"You don't even have a tomorrow, so why are you talking about dignity and pride?" the old mage laughed, "Either you adapt or you are eliminated. I don't understand what you High Elf have in your mind. Is it so difficult to adapt?"
Kael'thas was speechless.
"How about you ask your father to come out and take charge of the situation? He has been hiding all day long, and everyone has almost forgotten that Sun King is still alive. This is his responsibility. You can just be a Kirin Tor councilor and prepare to face Undead's attack." Antonidas suggested.
"Don't mention him!" The magic power around the prince suddenly went berserk, and the glassware in the laboratory exploded. "I can control everything without him."
The old mage narrowed his eyes, and the Arcane light began to condense on the top of the staff. "If you don't listen to the old man's words, you can do whatever you want. Even though you have been a prince for thousands of years, you are actually still young."
Teleportation Spell's blue light flashed, and only Kael'thas was left in the corridor. His shadow was stretched by the setting sun, like a broken sword.
The airship platform in the night was crowded with elves. Vereesa was counting the number of people when he was suddenly forced to take two steps back by a dazzling fire.
"Windrunner." Kael'thas walked out of the flames, the crown hanging crookedly on his forehead, "The royal family treats your family well."
Vereesa's fingertips unconsciously touched the Theramore badge on his waist. "I am only loyal to Quel'Thalas, Your Highness. And what have you done for the people? For such a long time, their situation in Dalaran has become worse and worse. Theramore at least treats them as human beings."
This sentence seemed to turn on a switch. An elf in the crowd suddenly cried out, it was a disheveled girl. More people began to whisper--
"Two more girls were found yesterday."
"My son went to steal for a piece of crystal and is now imprisoned in Violet Hold."
"At least Theramore gives us land seeds and gas treatments."
Kael'thas's eyes swept over these once noble faces, but now there was only hunger and despair in their eyes. He thought of his father, Sun King, who had been hiding in the secret room all day long. Had he expected such a situation -
"What did I do wrong?" Kael'thas thought of his empty treasure house and tried his best to obtain benefits for the nobles. But when he was left penniless, they abandoned him without hesitation.
"Haha, it turns out that everything is fake, there is no wealth, no strength, and the crown is just a false phantom." The night wind blew away the prince's whisper. When the first airship took off, no one noticed the figure that was once as dazzling as the sun, walking alone to the darkest corner of Dalaran.
Today's first update. After this update, the novel has more than 200,000 words, and there may be no new books to recommend. From now on, I will rely on the support of readers. Only if everyone likes to read it, the author will work hard to write it down. The following stories will become more and more exciting. Where are the tickets and where are the collections? There will be a second update in ten minutes. Let's continue to enjoy the wonderful content!