Ravenholdt Manor

"That's getting more ridiculous by the minute. You say someone slit their throats, but did you see what the person looked like? We went to the spot you mentioned the very next day—forget blood, we couldn't even find the place where you took a leak."

"But those two men really did die! I remember it clearly. A dagger seemed to just float right over their throats, and with one swift pull, they both collapsed to the ground. But... but... I really didn't see anyone. It must have been too dark that night, that's it, too dark!"

"Dark, my foot. I think you're just mistaking a sleepwalking dream for reality..."

One insisted he had seen the kidnappers, while the other retorted just as stubbornly, the two of them bickering back and forth.

"Black tight-fitting clothes, orange face mask—this attire is clearly the Syndicate. So, the one who struck was..."

Liam frowned in deep thought. It was clear this laborer had indeed stumbled upon Syndicate thieves in the middle of a kidnapping, and the one who took them out was likely a guard from Ravenholdt Manor. Ravenholdt guards were renowned for their peerless stealth techniques, and since it was night, it made sense that the witness hadn't seen who had made the move.

Stealth, huh... it really makes one curious. I wonder what the principle behind it is; it feels so unscientific. I just don't know if this technique is still as effective in the daylight.

There weren't many rogues in Gilneas, and most of them operated in the dark corners of the capital. Among the nobility, aside from himself and the future Tess Greymane, no one was interested in a profession that always hid in the shadows. Thus, Liam had never seen true rogue methods, and even rumors rarely reached the ears of a prince like him.

However, based on the laborer's description and the content of his other memories, Liam felt a growing anticipation for this unknown profession.

"Looking at it this way, the Durnholde Keep currently under expansion must not be far from Ravenholdt Manor, otherwise, no guard would be patrolling nearby at night."

He hadn't expected that a simple meal would yield unexpected information about Ravenholdt Manor, which made Liam quite pleased.

After all, the geography in a game couldn't be compared to reality. Here, what separated the entire Hinterlands region was a massive mountain range stretching thousands of kilometers, impassable even to birds—not the small hills one could simply fly over as in the game. Otherwise, the dwarves of Aerie Peak wouldn't need to guard that vital trade route to the human world; they would have just mounted their gryphons and flown out directly.

Precisely because of this, Liam needed to confirm the general area before he could enter the mountains to find his target. He had been prepared for a bit of trouble, but he hadn't expected to get the information he wanted directly from a tavern without even having to ask around.

Liam's focus on the two men also drew the attention of Wilton, who was busy stuffing his face.

He had seen the standard attire of Syndicate thieves, so the moment he heard it, he knew the laborer was telling the truth, and that those two were almost certainly members of the Syndicate.

The current capital of Alterac had been destroyed by the flames of war and also required reconstruction, and rebuilding cities was clearly not something these noble lords were good at. Yet, at this very moment, Terenas Menethil had sent a large number of laborers here to build prisoner-of-war camps. The Syndicate, a band of robbers, excelled at looting during a crisis, so it was only natural they would resort to kidnapping laborers.

However, Wilton clearly misunderstood what Liam was concerned about and spoke up to warn him.

"No matter how fierce the enemy is, they aren't scary. What's scary is having an inside man..."

Liam, of course, knew he was hinting at who was behind this, but he didn't dwell on their thoughts. In his memories, it wasn't until those creatures known as "Adventurer" appeared in Azeroth that the continent began to descend into chaos. He hadn't expected signs of instability to be everywhere already. Even if he had the heart to, he lacked the strength to put out fires everywhere. Therefore, there was no time to lose; he couldn't afford to delay even a day.

"Right, let's rest for the night. We set off tomorrow morning—into the mountains!"

Liam's reply left Wilton stunned. This time, he truly had no idea what this guy across from him was thinking, but he could only nod in agreement. He spent a restless night, worried that this unreliable fellow might end up selling him out.

Early the next morning, Liam set off with Wilton, who was sporting two dark circles under his eyes. Most of the townspeople were already up and starting their day's work. A large number of laborers were driving carts to transport supplies to the construction site in the north, while the locals had long since sailed out to sea in their small boats to haul in the nets they had set the day before, continuing to strive for the day's harvest.

Riding the two packhorses they had bought at a high price from the town the night before, the two slowly rode out of Southshore, following the small river that flowed through the town as they headed north, gradually leaving the bustling town behind.

Standing on a small, raised mound, Liam took one last look back at the vibrant Southshore. In his mind, he associated it with the later "Ruins of Southshore"—dilapidated, deathly silent, and flowing with plague. At that time, Southshore had nothing but slimes and rats...

"Goodbye. I will return." Turning around, Liam whispered a farewell to everything behind him, for once he entered these great mountains, it wouldn't be easy to come back out anytime soon.

With a definite direction, the target wasn't hard to find. After leaving Southshore for two days, the two rested briefly in Tarren Mill before continuing north.

In Liam's memories, Ravenholdt Manor was located at the turning point of this mountain range. He figured that although the world had been magnified countless times, the general location should remain much the same. According to information gathered in Tarren Mill the previous night, the laborers heading to build the prisoner-of-war camp at Durnholde Keep crossed the river at Tarren Mill before continuing east into the construction site.

Thus, Liam decisively chose the most straightforward method: follow the laborers toward the construction site near their destination, then, ignoring the well-meaning warnings of the laborers, plunge headlong into the vast, rugged mountains.

Following the direction of the mountain range as it veered west, while they were certain not to miss their destination, the behavior looked a bit like a headless fly to others. Wilton's gaze toward Liam over the past two days had been rather strange, as if he were deeply worried about Liam's intelligence.

Fortunately, this situation didn't last long. Less than a day's journey from the construction site, Liam found a very hidden, narrow mountain path amidst the tree-covered peaks.

Looking up, the summit was at least a thousand meters above where they stood, and it was hard to say just how long that clearly zigzagging path actually was.

"Games really are all lies..."

Liam silently grumbled about his unreliable memory, dismounted, and led a bewildered Wilton along the mountain path toward the summit...