So It Wasn't Unrequited Love

The grand celebration concluded as night fell. White Lady and Blue Child arrived as promised, and the devout believers began their prayers. There are so many people; no wonder the Night Elf of the future became a race that turned day into night—is this where the root lies? Has the radiance of the moon goddess already begun to favor this race? Azar had no mind for such things for the moment. He and his new bride, Azshara, were in their bridal chamber, taking stock of today's gains. The nation had been founded, and King Jabani opened the kingdom's treasury of titles to bestow rewards lavishly. Azar was enfeoffed as a Viscount and placed in charge of the Warrior Legion with the rank of General, along with a pile of miscellaneous item rewards. His wife, Azshara, was granted the title of Baroness in recognition of her contributions to the tribe's arcane arts, with the official position of Kingdom Archmage, responsible for all matters concerning mages within the Kingdom of Suramar. Just like that, the two main military forces of the kingdom were placed firmly under the King's control. Poor High Sorcerer; he held great power, after all—divine authority. Even the King was crowned by him. Right, he was the High Priest, the High Priest of the Temple of the Moon.

"It seems your teacher is not content to sit still, either. There are quite a few followers of the moon goddess." On their wedding night, fearing an awkward silence, Azar made small talk.

"Can't you say something else to me, like the love letters you wrote when you first left?" Hearing this, Azar felt as if he had returned to the time he first met Azshara, and his spirits soared! He took two quick steps forward and grasped Azshara's hands.

"Azshara!"

"Gently, you're hurting me," Azshara pouted in feigned anger.

"You love me, don't you?" Why was he asking such a foolish question? "I knew it, I knew it." The lad was so excited he was practically dancing.

"Silly!" Watching the nearly delirious Azar, Azshara laughed until she was doubled over, her frame trembling like a flower in the wind.

"Tell me, when did you start liking me? Was it the first time we met, or after you read the letters I wrote?" The lad's questions were becoming increasingly foolish.

"Does that matter?" Azshara gently cupped Azar's face in her hands, looking him straight in the eyes, and asked softly.

"Yes, that doesn't matter; we are husband and wife now. Heavens, earth, I am so, so happy today. Hey, why is the moon so round tonight? White Lady, Blue Child, are you happy for us too? Hahaha."

"What are you daydreaming about?" Seeing Azar unresponsive, Azshara asked again.

"Nothing, I'm just too happy. Do you know how heartbroken I was when you ignored me?"

"Do you want to know the reason?"

"En, I want to hear it. Wait, let me guess first. Is it because of the High Priest? Did he disapprove of us being together back then?"

"You really are clever; no wonder the teacher values you so much," Azshara said, affectionately pinching Azar's cheek.

"The King is your teacher? Not the High Priest?"

"Hold me, and I'll tell you slowly." Azshara leaned comfortably into Azar's embrace and casually cast a magic barrier.

"My arcane talent was first discovered by the King. He secretly took me as his disciple and then arranged for me to be 'discovered' by the High Sorcerer. In truth, he knew the High Priest had always wanted to expand his own influence. At that time, the tribe was at a critical juncture and could not afford a single mistake. So, I was placed into the High Priest's Arcane Research Base. The goal was to control it and serve the King." She spoke softly and carefully.

"When you first distanced yourself from me, was it because you were afraid I would disrupt your plans after I went to the base?"

"Yes. At first, I didn't know you were the teacher's man. Especially with the first reward scheme you drafted—I was worried you would disrupt my layout, so I was very unhappy. Azar, in truth, I was just like you; I was deeply attracted to you the moment we first met."

"Why did the High Priest initially disagree, only to later suggest that you and I unite?"

"That was because you demonstrated your value. His mission for me was to control you, to indirectly control the army, and to sever one of the King's arms."

"So you and your uncle simply played along with his scheme?"

"Yes."

"But now the High Priest has mastered a new force—the Temple of the Moon. I dare say the Temple of the Moon will become unimaginably vast. The difficulties we face in the future will remain immense," Azar said with great concern. He knew that the future Night Elf society would be divided between the priesthood of the Temple of the Moon and the Druid, two major powers. One of the two giants—the influence would be immense.

"That is not for us to consider. Our power is still very weak, isn't it? What we should do now is enjoy our world for two. Come, my dear, love me well."

"As you wish, my Queen!"

Newlyweds, inseparable as glue and lacquer; the honeymoon life was always intoxicating. With one party calculating and the other unaware, the sweet life of the couple placated the King and the High Priest on the surface, but in reality, it was all part of the King's long-term plan. In this round, King Jabani won a complete victory.

What were the couple doing? They were conducting an academic exchange in a friendly atmosphere! Azar used Charge, Azshara's Ice Barrier shattered, Azshara used Thunderstorm, followed by an instant-cast Frostbolt—it hit! She created distance, Polymorph! Baa... Azar cast Arcane Cleanse, followed immediately by a Sprint to reach Azshara, using a kick to interrupt her Arcane Missiles. Azshara's reaction was not slow; she immediately used Blink to create distance. Distance is the key to a duel between a mage and a warrior, bar none. Azshara understood this well, but there was one thing she overlooked: Azar was no ordinary melee warrior; he was an all-around warrior. Heroic Leap, followed by an Intimidating Shout in mid-air. Azshara was left slightly dazed, her movements slowed, and she saw a blade held to her throat.

"I'm not playing anymore, it's no fun, you always win! Can't you go easy on me?" It was true; you're a man sparring with your wife, couldn't you show some restraint? Winning once in a while to prove your strength would have been enough.

"Alright, alright, next time I'll definitely lose to you." He comforted his wife while helping her straighten her disheveled clothes. Who would have thought that as soon as these words left his mouth, Azshara became even angrier.

"Who wants you to go easy on me! Go easy on your whole family! Sleep on the floor tonight!" With that, she stomped off in a huff.

"What kind of person is he? I've never lost to a warrior before, why is it so uncomfortable fighting him? I'm restrained at every turn." Azshara muttered to herself as she walked. "Don't just stand there! Come help me rub my hands!" she shouted at Azar, who was following behind.

"Your servant is here, where does it hurt, my lady?" Azar rushed up, saying with a cheeky grin.

"Here, here, here! It hurts everywhere!" Azshara still looked pouting.

"Rubbing it now, rubbing it right away." The two found a large tree to sit under, bickering while he rubbed her hands. Rubbing and rubbing, before long they were tangled together, whispering sweet nothings.

"How did you do it? I felt so uncomfortable when I was fighting you," Azshara asked, lying in Azar's arms, tracing circles on his chest with her finger, her voice sweet and coquettish.

"Prediction and skill counter-play! You can't learn prediction; it's experience accumulated through actual combat. Skill counter-play is something I researched when I had nothing to do, studying my potential opponents and their skill characteristics."

"In other words, the former relies on combat and intuition, while the latter relies on the compatibility of skills. The former varies from person to person, while the latter can be taught to others, is that right?"

"Yes, my dear. If you're interested, I can teach you. But for now, look at our position, look at our surroundings—we should be engaging in a deeper level of physical exchange." Having said that, Azar ignored the struggles of the beauty in his arms and kissed her deeply.

"Ah, you rogue!" Azshara only had time to cry out once before she was lost in the intoxication of the kiss.