Career and Love

In my previous life on Earth, there was a saying: "Power and beauty—no, career and love." Which would you choose? I'd choose beauty and power.

Earth's entrepreneurs in my previous life used to say: First-rate companies set standards, second-rate companies do research and development, third-rate companies sell products, and fourth-rate companies sell their labor. Arcane magic belongs to me alone right now, so what we need to do is set every industry standard related to it. We need to develop new spells, figure out how to improve our magical power, and research large-scale destructive spells, handbooks for training soldiers to cast spells instantly, and so on. Our goal is for people to think of the Night Elves as the big shots whenever they hear the word "magic." Want to learn? Sure—pay up, and we'll sell you an inferior copy. If we're on good terms, we can work something out: pay a little less, and we'll sell you an improved version of that inferior copy, good enough to crush them.

Back in the Council Hall, once everyone had taken their seats, Azar began. "I'm sure everyone knows what our base is for. It's the hope of our tribe's growth and prosperity, our future. When faced with questions of life and death, every one of us must tread carefully, as if walking on thin ice. Arcane magic is our trump card. We need to use it well, in ways that benefit our tribe's development. That means every decision we make now is vitally important. That's exactly why we need everyone's ideas. We must be careful, then even more careful; thorough, then even more thorough. Above all, we need to look at the problems we face with an eye toward the future. I'll share my thoughts on our research priorities. Please feel free to add to them." Damn, I was starting to feel more and more like an official. There was a saying in my previous life: "Your position determines your perspective." It really was the truth.

"We await your words!"

"Here's what I think. Our research ultimately aims to protect our tribe from attack"—in plain terms, to wage war; why dress it up in such civilized language?—"so we need to advance on two fronts. On one hand, we keep exploring the unknown and stay ahead of the other tribes. On the other, we set combat standards, train our fighters, find a way to rapidly improve their Arcane abilities, and identify the spells that are most effective in battle and quickest to learn." Everyone nodded. The leader really did have insight. (Wahaha, let me enjoy this for a moment.) Nearby, Azshara's eyes lit up with interest, and she interjected, "Could you go into more detail?"

"Of course, beautiful lady." Azar teased her without thinking, hoping to ease the awkwardness between them. Then he continued, "Let's start with the standards. We need to gather everyone who can sense Arcane magic and train them together. I call them Magic Apprentices. At this stage, a unified group of junior instructors will teach them how to improve their Arcane abilities more quickly and effectively. There are two key standards: control and total magical power. Once they reach a certain level, they'll advance to First-Circle Mage. At that point, they can choose the school they like and continue learning under dedicated instructors in group lessons. The same goes for the second and third circles. From the fourth circle onward, they can have personal mentors. Mages of the first through third circles will be called Mages; those of the fourth through sixth, Archmages; those of the seventh and above, Legendary Archmages; the eighth circle will be the Immortal Archmage; and the ninth, a god—a God of Magic! The strong will guide the weak, and the old will train the new, building a complete system of teaching, learning, and research." There, I'd laid out the whole plan for you. Work hard, geniuses. The leader moves his mouth, and the subordinates run themselves ragged. You can work out the details yourselves. Before anyone could react, Azar continued, "Combat, at its most basic, is about killing and staying alive. So if we have evocation, we need protection too. An outstanding Battle Mage should specialize in one area while being capable in many others. We'll study whatever combat requires and focus on what matters most. Our priority right now is to train an experimental unit of Battle Mages."

"Do you intend to train the Elves on the outskirts to serve as soldiers?" a voice asked from the corner.

"No. They've already made strides in their own fields. We should train them to become excellent craftspeople. They can use their practical skills to provide the combat troops with superior weapons. Think about it: wouldn't a sword be more lethal if it dealt fire damage?"

A good leader wasn't necessarily the smartest person in the room, but he needed extraordinary perseverance to keep working hard, broad vision to devise plans for sustainable growth, and an open heart, so he could listen to others' opinions and make room for them. Only then would people be loyal and willing to follow him. Azar thought he could manage all that.

Azar felt he'd done all he could by leaving the work to the experts. He reserved only the right to review their work: every new discovery and achievement had to be reported, and the person in charge had to vet it carefully. Azar didn't want someone to develop Warlock magic just yet. After all, necromantic spells were the hardest to control, and Mages were a freewheeling bunch—broad-minded but naturally undisciplined. If they created a ticking time bomb, he'd be in for a disaster. A class as difficult to handle as Warlocks could wait for the Orcs to develop. He only needed to manage his own little patch of the world for the Elves.

As it turned out, once intellectuals had a goal, they were more driven than the common folk, and their results were more noticeable too. The relevant plans were drawn up quickly. Azar reviewed them carefully, found no hidden problems, then signed off on them with a flourish.

Azar's most pressing problem now was that Azshara still wouldn't talk to me. Compared with how happily we'd gotten along on the day we were introduced—no, the day we met—the only thing we exchanged now was a polite greeting. The difference was too great. Something had to be wrong, and I just hadn't noticed what. Azar was deeply conflicted. A man's love, especially his first love, usually started with lust, with beauty as the top priority. Once he fell for someone, everything about her seemed wonderful. And it was obvious he'd fallen for Azshara, so he was a little lost. To pursue her or not? That was the question. Azar was an adult male Elf. Though he was devoted to pursuing power, he still needed a sex life. What was that saying? Right! "You work hard for a better life." A life without love wasn't complete. People like that were empty shells, without souls, and destined to have no future. Even though Azar knew Azshara's future wouldn't end well, he didn't care. Wasn't love about throwing yourself into the fray, defying heaven and earth? Plenty of people throughout history had followed love without hesitation. What was one more? What if his arrival changed Azshara's fate? Let the War of the Ancients go to hell. Without Azshara, there would still be some Tom, Dick, or Harry. If Zhang the Butcher was dead, people could still eat pork with the bristles on. Without her, would Sargeras really fail to find Azeroth? If she didn't open the door, could the Burning Legion really not get in? There were plenty of ambitious people willing to fawn over the Fallen Titan. You folks, would you agree to do it? If you would, then go for it! Azar steeled himself, clenched his teeth, stamped his foot, and decided: he'd do it! He'd confess tomorrow! Now? Now he was going to catch up on his beauty sleep.