The victory on the front lines swept away the gloom hanging over the tribe. The negative impact of Zhakun's death vanished, too. The tribe's leaders even prepared a grand welcome ceremony, going ten miles out to greet him and honor his achievement. Seeing the smiling faces of the tribespeople gathered to welcome him, Azar felt both thrilled and deeply relieved. At last, all his efforts had paid off. He wished he could protect them forever, so they could always face everything as victors. Azar knew that would be difficult, but he would keep trying. He wanted to change the Night Elves' fate; he didn't want them to remain supporting characters. Parades, banquets, speeches—Azar spent the next several days surrounded by these tedious obligations. Yet a sense of disappointment lingered in his heart. Why hadn't Azshara come? Was she unwilling to accept him?
At last, he could rest. Half a year of campaigning had left Azar exhausted, and he truly needed a break. He also needed to review what he had learned from his recent battles, improve his combat skills, grow stronger, and explore his Arcane abilities. He practiced martial arts every day with his four guards, instructed them in how to sense the Power of Order, and found time to visit Maiev's Sentinel unit. It was dull and repetitive, but at least it kept him busy.
Night fell, and the two moons still hung high in the sky. Azar remembered a legend from the games he'd played in his previous life: when the two moons aligned, something major was bound to happen in Azeroth. He didn't know if it was true; he'd never seen it happen. Better to sit and meditate. It was a habit Azar had developed over many years: he meditated instead of sleeping, convinced that hard work could make up for a lack of talent. He wasn't one of Blizzard's favorites, so he had to do everything he could to improve himself. It wasn't all that difficult, really. Azar had discovered that meditation gave him better rest than sleep, while also steadily increasing the strength and purity of his Power of Order. Just as he entered a meditative state, a sudden surge of Arcane energy appeared outside his door. Azar swiftly prepared to fight, gathering his strength. Whoever could get in here without alerting the guards must be formidable. That Arcane energy—is it Azshara? No, surely not. She didn't even come to my welcome ceremony. Why would she show up in my bedroom now? Could my luck with women finally be changing? His fantasy was shattered. It wasn't her. It was him!
"Relax, my child. It seems that even at home, you remain highly alert. The battlefield really is a place that toughens people up." The Chieftain's gentle voice rang out.
"Uncle, what are you doing here?" Azar lowered his guard and asked, puzzled. A dozen questions were whirling through his mind, but he couldn't bring himself to voice them. Why couldn't this wait until daytime? He had plenty of chances to talk to me over the past few days. And how does he know Arcane Magic—advanced spatial magic, no less? There's so much I don't know.
"I came to see you and have a chat." The Chieftain still wore a kind, gentle expression. Azar didn't respond. He waited for him to continue, letting his expression show that he was listening attentively.
"You don't blame me for arranging your marriage, do you? I'm sorry I didn't tell you beforehand."
"Of course not. I know you have my best interests at heart. I already liked Azshara, so I can only thank you. How could I blame you? I just don't know whether she'll agree." Azar replied shyly, his cheeks turning a little red.
"That's good. She may be a little shy, so I asked her teacher to speak with her. I'm sure she'll listen." The Chieftain still had a smile on his face.
"Are you wondering why I know Arcane magic?" The Chieftain fixed his eyes on Azar. The gentleness and kindness in his expression vanished, replaced by a sharp intensity.
"Yes." Whether it was a blessing or a curse, there was no escaping it. Azar steeled himself.
"What I'm about to tell you must not be repeated to anyone, including your future wife!" The Chieftain seemed pleased with Azar's answer and gave a slight nod, though his tone remained stern. Is this something important? Why all the secrecy? As soon as he finished speaking, he cast a high-level spell: a spatial barrier. Azar knew it was perfect for preventing eavesdropping.
"I know what you've planned for your subordinates." The Chieftain's first words hit Azar like a thunderbolt. It wasn't the content that startled him, but the bluntness. A leader had to have influence of his own, or he'd have been replaced long ago. Azar had been prepared for that.
"I approve of what you're doing. I'll use my influence to help you." Azar felt as though his mind had stopped working. This wasn't a situation he knew how to handle. What is he trying to do?
"I don't understand," he answered honestly.
"You're my nephew. Your cousin, my only son, died in battle. Do you understand now?" As the Chieftain spoke, Azar could clearly sense the grief inside him.
"Although we all know that the Well of Eternity is gradually transforming our bodies, and I can feel that I've regained the strength I had in my youth, I know I'll still die. I was already too old when I came here."
"You want to groom me as your successor? Is that why you arranged for me to marry Azshara—to help me gain a powerful ally?"
"The first part is right; the second is wrong. I appointed you to lead the unit because we believe in your abilities. The new troops were trained according to your methods, so you're the most qualified to lead them. This was the first test. If you failed, you'd have remained no more than a captain of the guards. But you completed the mission perfectly—even better than the best outcome we'd expected."
"That's all? Isn't that a little hasty?"
"No, no, no. The tests have continued these past few days. I'm pleased with how you've conducted yourself. You've maintained a certain level of contact with everyone, making them feel at ease while also keeping your distance. Those are essential qualities for someone in a position of power. And I haven't seen you grow arrogant over it. You've still been able to settle down and improve yourself. That's rare in a young man. When I consider this alongside everything you've done before, I reach one conclusion: you're very ambitious!"
"Aren't you worried about me?"
"Worried? No. This is your mission, because you carry Alazan's bloodline!"
"What did you mean when you said the second part was wrong?"
"Because we and the High Sorcerer are not on the same path!" His words were shocking. Azar had never imagined it. Startled for the second time, he was thunderstruck.
"Political power and religious authority have never coexisted harmoniously. Each has its own aims. They depend on each other and guard against each other, and, more importantly, each is always looking for a chance to replace the other. Do you understand?" Azar understood. He understood all too well. This old man is impressive. He's thought through a question this profound. Why has Chinese civilization endured for so long, generation after generation? The other four great ancient civilizations have all fallen, while China is still going strong. Its level of civilization may not always have been the highest, but its lifespan is unquestionably unmatched—the only one of its kind, with no precedent and no successor.
"I understand what you mean. I just don't understand why, if that's the case, you still agreed to my marriage with Azshara. She's the High Sorcerer's prized student! Everything points to Azshara being the next High Sorcerer."
"How do you know Azshara isn't on my side?" A smug look spread across his face. Oh, come on! A third shock—and this one left Azar completely stunned. That's a crafty move. No, it makes sense. The Chieftain knows Arcane magic, and he's clearly a master of it! Azar had naively thought he was impressive, always planning three steps ahead. He hadn't realized the Chieftain was already ten steps ahead. Remember, young man: never underestimate anyone. You need to be more humble from now on. You still have a lot to learn. In his previous life, Azar had been only a humble teacher. Although he'd met all kinds of people, putting his experience into practice still made him feel the gap between them.
"Think it over, young man. You still have a lot to learn." That expression, that tone—why did he sound so much like the way Azar used to speak to his good students when they asked him questions?
"That's enough for today. You should get some rest. Make your preparations. The wedding will take place in three days, together with the ceremony founding the nation!"
The wedding of Azar and Azshara would surely go down in history. What an incredible honor!
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