Conflict

"Oh, that's right," the mage nodded, his gaze remaining fixed on the young warrior.

"Once I'm done with this dim-witted, muscle-bound excuse for a warrior—"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Kel'Thuzad abruptly thrust his right hand out, pointing directly at Uther, who stood only a few paces away. On his slender index finger, a pale blue ring shimmered with a mysterious luster, catching the sunlight and casting flickers of light. Violent Arcane energy was rapidly converted into biting frost, and several crystalline ice lances shot out in the direction the mage pointed.

The frigid spears whistled past the boy's head. Alvin only heard a few "whooshing" sounds before he belatedly sensed the chilling cold permeating the air. Since arriving in this world, this was the first time he had felt the breath of death so close; it felt as if the gap between life and death was merely a single step away.

Faced with the sudden attack, Uther didn't care about maintaining his dignity; he threw himself into a clumsy roll, barely dodging the trajectory of the ice lances. However, the mage, who possessed an incredibly high level of mastery over Frost-based evocation spells, had long anticipated this outcome. With a snap of his fingers, the ice pillars that the warrior had so narrowly avoided suddenly detonated, and the resulting mist and biting frost instantly engulfed Uther entirely.

When the ice mist dissipated, the Uther that appeared before Alvin looked as if he had been coated in a layer of white frost. He was shivering uncontrollably, yet his hands remained tightly gripped around his warhammer, maintaining a defensive stance. Although he hadn't suffered any substantial physical damage, Uther had undeniably come out on the losing end of this sneak attack.

Fortunately, Kel'Thuzad still possessed some sense of propriety, knowing that as a guest, he shouldn't go too far. The mage, looking somewhat displeased, chose not to press his advantage after the successful ambush and instead dispersed the Arcane power gathered around him. As the mage retracted his right hand, the boy keenly noticed that the ring, which had been glowing just moments before, seemed to have dimmed significantly.

"The Archbishop has some matters to discuss with you. Furthermore, that little toy is of no use to me anymore; I have already instructed him to follow by your side. Do not worry about safety; I guarantee he will be a good servant, absolutely obedient to a degree that is hard to believe."

Although the reason he had been suddenly assigned to the boy's side—as learned from his teacher—was somewhat irritating, the boy's status and the reward promised upon the mission's success caused the young mage, who was never accustomed to dealing with others, to temporarily restrain his bad temper.

After finishing his conversation with the prince, Kel'Thuzad turned to look at Uther, who had only just recovered from his shivering. With a light stomp of his right foot, he vanished amidst a flash of magical light. Only a mocking remark remained in the empty training ground: "For the sake of His Highness, this was merely a small lesson. I shall not hold your insolence against you any further, lowly warrior."

"That is exactly why I hate mages; they are all as arrogant as High Elves and possess all sorts of underhanded tools," the young instructor muttered, feeling a strange sense of relief now that the mage had teleported away, as he sheathed his weapon. "Come, I'll take you to change your clothes first, then we'll head to the Archbishop's residence."

Alvin followed silently in Uther's footsteps. In a room beside the training ground, he washed off the stench of sweat and changed into the gold-trimmed formal attire delivered by a guard. With preparations complete, the two—one large, one small—stepped out of the training ground and onto a walkway paved with white marble, their rhythmic footsteps echoing through the quiet corridor.

The boy observed his surroundings carefully while following the burly man ahead. Having arrived at the chapel only last night, he had neither the time nor the opportunity to properly explore this new place of residence. Today, he had been dragged to the training ground by Uther at the crack of dawn, so the environment remained quite unfamiliar to him.

The corridor was over three meters high, with massive pillars supporting the ceiling. The white stone surfaces bore the marks of time from years of wind and rain, lending the place an ancient and solemn atmosphere. The adjacent courtyard was planted with shrubs, and the expansive lawn was dotted with small white flowers. A faint, clean fragrance filled the air, soothing the boy's mind.

It lacked the grandeur and solemnity of the royal palace in Lordaeron, yet it possessed a unique sense of depth and warmth. What a wonderful place! Alvin took a deep breath, a look of satisfaction appearing on his face.

Just then, the warrior walking in front stopped in his tracks.

Uther stared fixedly at the Gnoll shaman standing outside Archbishop Faol's residence, his right hand slowly reaching toward his back as he asked in a low voice, "A Gnoll?"

"Prince Alvin, and this respected sir, Logul of the Maw-Claw Clan pays his respects to you here."

The Gnoll shaman did not react with agitation to the hostility displayed by the other party; instead, he performed a gesture of respect from human society toward the warrior, who was ready to draw his weapon and deliver a hammer blow at any moment. Although he didn't know what Kel'Thuzad had done to this test subject, Alvin, having witnessed everything, couldn't help but admire the mage's methods.

"Instructor, this is the servant Master Kel'Thuzad mentioned earlier. He will temporarily follow the orders of Teacher Faol and myself," Alvin said, catching a glimpse of Uther's hand reaching behind his back and immediately stepping forward to intercept the warrior before he could act.

He was joking—this Gnoll was tied to his plans for the next six months and served as a bargaining chip for Lordaeron in the war against the Orcs. If he were to be killed here due to Uther's momentary impulse, it would be a massive loss!

Therefore, even though this Gnoll shaman was technically Kel'Thuzad's responsibility on the surface, Alvin invoked the Archbishop's name to prevent his instructor—who was still venting his frustration from the mage's intrusion—from smashing his subordinate into the ground.

However, Alvin had clearly underestimated Uther's restraint. Or perhaps the Archbishop's reputation was simply enough to be convincing. In any case, after the explanation, the young warrior merely nodded and stepped forward to knock on the door, completely ignoring the Gnoll who had been treated as an enemy just moments before.

"Uther, how is the disciple I found for you?"

The old man, dressed in worn white robes, sat at his desk with a cheerful smile, squinting his eyes as he looked at the two people standing in the center of the room.

"Prince Alvin's physical condition is even worse than I imagined," the rigid warrior shook his head and said bluntly. "I can only do my best to teach him how to protect himself."

"For a priest, that is enough; Alvin is still just a child. Besides, I don't have much time to leave him entirely in your care; this child still needs to learn by my side."

Uther's confession did not anger the old man; he grinned and let out a hearty laugh. "Let's end today's lesson here. I will be taking this child to see the world beyond Lordaeron in a little while."

After the young man bowed and took his leave, the Archbishop beckoned to the boy and said kindly, "Alvin, come here. Today, I am going to take you to see the source of Stratholme's prosperity."