At that thought, Hilton ignored Liam, who was still eyeing him curiously, and took out a whistle. He blew a particular rhythm. Before long, two people dressed in the same black leather armor appeared on the other side of the cave. They looked at him, silently asking why he had summoned them.
"I still have to keep watch over the ritual. You two take them to see the Duke. Tell him they... Never mind. Don't say anything. Just say someone wants to see him."
The thought that he'd been forced into asking the manor for help after being mocked was too embarrassing to reveal. Besides, once these two were taken inside, they probably wouldn't mention what had happened here, so he could just let bygones be bygones. With the Duke there, he had no doubt they'd spill every last detail anyway.
Liam, following the two guards into the manor, had no idea what was going through Hilton's mind. He didn't even have time to check on Wilton, who had been carried in over someone's shoulder. He was truly captivated by the scenery in the manor, looking all around as he walked.
"Elf, this is no place for a Druid like you."
After watching them leave, Hilton turned toward the cave entrance.
"I'm sorry. I was only entrusted with protecting that young man. I meant no offense." A figure appeared around the bend at the cave entrance. Though the voice was light and masculine, the figure was a jet-black panther. The crescent-shaped markings on its fur revealed its origins: it was a Feral Druid of the Night Elves!
"Don't try to show off your imperfect Stealth in front of a rogue. Now that they've entered the manor, their safety is no longer in your hands. Please leave."
Hilton dismissed the visitor outright, his tone less than polite. The Druid knew this wasn't a place he could sneak into, so he retreated outside the cave. His body shuddered, and he transformed into a crow before flying off into the distance. He was headed toward the Kingdom of Gilneas.
She had fulfilled half of her promise. What happened next was beyond the reach of a high-ranking Druid like her, so she could only inform King Genn first.
As they entered the valley, the full scope of Ravenholdt Manor finally came into view before Liam.
No one could have imagined that this little valley concealed one of the oldest organizations in Azeroth: an ancient group with a history far surpassing the 2,800 years of humanity's first empire, the Arathor Empire, and one of the greatest powers lurking behind Azeroth's chaotic affairs.
It all came from the tradition upheld by the Assassin League: absolute neutrality!
Assassins from Ravenholdt could have allegiances and leanings, but the Assassin League itself never did. Its members were loyal only to the organization and to their "contracts." Not even Duke Jorach, the organization's leader, could make the loosely knit Assassin League take sides in any conflict. That was the foundation of its enduring legacy.
At the same time, the Assassin League's principle of targeting only the powerful ensured that it would endure. No matter how formidable their opponents were—even demigods or dragons—the assassins dared to face them head-on, but never preyed on the weak. This ironclad rule kept the organization's secrets from spreading and kept genuine villains from joining its ranks.
These two principles were also the main reasons Liam had decided to join them. Otherwise, no matter how powerful his backers were, a clash of ideals would only hold him back rather than help him.
The manor before Liam was enormous, nothing like the little two-story building in the game. Its main structure was a castle sprawling across nearly ten thousand square meters, even larger than a royal estate like Greymane.
Before the castle lay a flat training ground. Since it was already night, it was deserted, with no members left training there.
Farther on, near the cave entrance, lay a lush green herb garden. It was planted with a vast variety of herbs, only a small portion of which were used for healing. The largest plots were devoted to poisons! The garden was maintained by Druid specialists, providing the Assassin League with a steady supply of ingredients for its poison research.
The entire manor was unusually quiet, but Liam knew there could be any number of rogues hidden in the shadows around him, warily watching the outsider.
With the two guards leading the way, Liam went straight to the second floor of the castle.
To his surprise, Duke Jorach wasn't the only one waiting in the hall to receive them. There was also a young man who looked to be under thirty and a little girl who seemed even younger than Tess and Lorna. Both were sitting to one side, sizing them up.
The guards dumped Wilton into a chair and left. Liam was left standing in the middle of the room, curiously studying Jorach Ravenholdt.
With his graying hair and beard, and his fitted formal suit, the old man looked more like a merchant than an assassin. He seemed to have looked and dressed this way ever since he first appeared, but Liam remembered another side to him: clad in Nightslayer and wielding Dal'Rend's Sacred Charge, ready for battle.
The old man always seemed to stay at the forefront of every expansion, rivaling the legendary creatures known as "hardcore grinders."
Liam's scrutiny piqued Duke Jorach's curiosity. The old man smiled faintly and said,
"So you're the kid who wants to join the Assassin League? And who's that one over there pretending to be unconscious?"
The Duke could naturally tell that Wilton had woken up before they even entered the castle and was only pretending to be unconscious now. At his words, Wilton showed no embarrassment at all. He simply got up and looked to Liam, waiting honestly for him to answer.
"Well... I guess you could say he's a friend. The two of us came here uninvited to join the Assassin League. We also hope to train under you, Duke, and learn how to become real assassins."
Before Jorach or the young man could say anything, the little girl beside them burst out laughing. But as soon as she made a sound, the young man beside her stopped her with a gesture for silence.
The little girl, unfairly scolded, glared fiercely at Liam, who had made her look bad. She was puffed up with anger, seemingly quite displeased with the cocky boy.
But the girl's wild nature reminded Liam of his own sister, who was just as much of a handful. On a whim, he grinned and winked at her. Her cheeks puffed up even more with anger.
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