Wilton had clearly received a proper education in etiquette. He'd probably had no shortage of servants around him growing up, so serving as a valet came naturally to him. His deferential bearing made him look like an experienced old servant, and there was nothing to fault.
Looking at the "treasure" that had come right to his door, Liam smiled and nodded warmly. Since he'd decided to take Wilton in, the boy was one of his own now. As long as he showed no other ambitions, Liam would naturally treat him with courtesy.
But while Liam was polite, the words that came out of his mouth made Wilton's blood run cold.
"You can come with me, but first, go kill all those people. I don't want anyone leaking our whereabouts. Remember, I don't want a single survivor."
Liam had no fondness for people who did nothing but harass and oppress the common folk. Just look at what happened a dozen years later: several farms in Hillsbrad Foothills and Arathi Highlands were constantly plagued by those loathsome parasites. Anyone who refused to join them was left with nothing but a ruined home and a broken family.
Liam decided that scum who were vicious toward their own people but useless against outsiders deserved to die the moment he laid eyes on them.
As Liam said these horrifying words with a smile, a long sword appeared out of thin air in his hand. He passed it to Wilton. Of course, Liam could kill these people himself. At the very least, he could toss out a card and take care of everyone here.
But Liam wanted to put Wilton to the test, and to gauge him as well. He needed Wilton to understand where he stood, and he wanted to see whether the boy had the courage to follow him.
Before Wilton could react, however, a bandit whose wounds had just begun to heal shouted at Liam, trying to sound threatening.
"Do you know who he is? If you take him, the Syndicate will come after you until you're—"
Bang! A wisp of smoke curled from the Queen Killer in Liam's hand. A black hole appeared in the forehead of the bandit who'd dared interrupt him, followed by a spray of red blood and white brain matter.
Liam's casual execution of the bandit gradually dispelled Wilton's initial panic, replacing it with a yearning for power. The boy, who had never witnessed anything so bloody, hesitantly raised the long sword in his hand. He still looked at Liam with deference, but his expression turned uncertain as he stammered,
"B-but they're too strong, sir. I'm no match for them."
"Don't worry. I can grant you the power to kill them. As for whether you have the courage—that's up to you."
With that, Liam waved his hand, and [Prince Liam] appeared in it once more. He tossed the card, and it merged straight into Wilton's body.
A golden light flashed. The frail boy suddenly grew taller, and his features and clothes changed. He looked every bit like a copy of Liam Greymane!
Staring at his reflection, Liam was briefly stunned before finally realizing what ability Wilton had received: [Mask Collector] from the Witchwood set, a wondrous card that could freely change its owner's true appearance and form!
[Name: Mask Collector (Wilton)] [Status: Minion, Loyalty 30] [Origin: Witchwood] [Type: Minion] [Rarity: Legendary] [Stats: Attack (2), Health (2), Mana Cost (3)] [Skill: Each time the user changes appearance and form, it consumes (3) Mana Crystals.]
Two days later, at dusk, at the Southshore docks.
Two boys quietly guided a small boat into the little harbor. The one in front leaped out and headed straight for Southshore's inn. The other, a somewhat scrawny boy, tied the boat to a wooden post on the pier, then hurried after the first boy and followed close behind, looking rather cautious.
The two of them were Liam and Wilton, back from Atonement Island.
After gaining the power of Mask Collector that day, Wilton had easily finished off the remaining Syndicate bandits. It would be more accurate to call what followed a slaughter than a battle.
Mask Collector's power wasn't meant for combat, but it still gave Wilton abilities on par with those of an apprentice rogue—enough to match the bandits. If they'd been in good condition, Wilton would never have beaten them. But after Coral's instinctive Flamestrike had hit them, there was hardly any fight left in them.
Poor little Wilton had clearly suffered plenty at their hands in recent days, and showed no mercy. He dispatched the whole lot in no time. His Loyalty, which had been at 30, rose by a symbolic four points—a boost of over ten percent. Liam couldn't help sighing over that for quite a while.
Mask Collector's ability was far too powerful. Liam had considered taking it back, but turning such an ability into a one-use card would make it worthless. It was just too much of a waste, so after weighing the pros and cons, Liam decided to leave it with Wilton.
After all, each transformation consumed Mana Crystals. Liam wasn't worried that this seemingly honest, but not particularly "loyal," boy would try anything.
The moment he pushed open the tavern door, a roar of noise nearly knocked Liam off his feet.
Southshore hadn't yet become the ill-fated battlefield it would be in the future. The steady stream of merchants and travelers kept the inn lively, and even though night had fallen, plenty of people were still drinking and chatting inside.
Unfortunately, Southshore wouldn't stay so lively. Kobolds occupied the mines to the west, abominable snowmen blocked the mountains to the north, and murlocs rampaged through the harbor to the south. To the east lay Tarren Mill, seized by their old enemies, the Forsaken, and Durnholde, occupied by the Syndicate. Together, they left Southshore completely surrounded.
With such hostile surroundings, and the Scourge's rampage decimating the northern population, Southshore would be less than a tenth as lively a dozen years later...
In Liam's other set of memories, the only time large numbers of players came and went here was when the entrance to the Alterac Valley battlefield was still open. Once people no longer needed to travel here to reach the battlefield, the place truly became deserted. Only during Winter Veil did crowds flock here for presents, to bully the poor snowman Grinch who lived in the mountains.
"Since I'm here, I should at least do something good. I hope this lively scene can go on forever..." In contrast to the tavern's bustle, Liam felt a little melancholy. Watching the patrons raise their glasses, he wondered how much longer a scene like this could last.
A ridiculous thought suddenly crossed his mind: why not just head straight to Lordaeron City and kill that "idiot" whose intelligence was rapidly declining?
Before you continue