Borrowing a Chicken to Lay Eggs

"I bear the Master's teachings in mind." Glancing at the scythe flickering with a scarlet glow, Velania could not help but recall the first time she laid eyes upon it. Though it was merely a projection, the wails of countless souls seemed to ring in her ears; within seconds, she had nearly been driven to madness by the torment of those shrill cries.

"You summon me with such urgency—has the mission been completed?" The Eredar cared little for her petty anxieties; fear was a necessity.

"It would be more accurate to say... half-completed." Velania's voice was soft, betraying a sense of trepidation.

"Hmm?"

With that inquiry, a bone-chilling wind surged through the room. Velania shuddered involuntarily and hurried to explain: "We successfully seized control of the Northern Temple's conduit device, but Kaidenis is no weaker than I; he will discover the changes in the temple soon."

"And that bit... Landral, at the Eastern Temple, has successfully seized the Fel Crystal. Although the fel energy has disrupted the flow of magic, making long-range communication impossible, she has not yet fully secured the temple. If things continue this way, I will be exposed, and your plans, Master..."

"Heh." Sathael scraped his fingertips against the blade, producing a hair-raising sound. His raspy voice was low, yet it pierced straight to the soul. "You should know by now: the Burning Legion has no use for failures."

Velania bit her lip in resentment. Though he had granted her the power she had dreamed of, she was but one person; to stir up a tempest in Quel'Thalas was a monumental task.

If only... if only she had enough help.

"But do not worry." Sathael's next words made Velania's eyes brighten. "I anticipated your failure, so I have found others to help us unleash the power of the crystals."

"When that time comes, the iron hooves of the Burning Legion will trample this golden forest!" Thinking of the death and destruction about to befall this land, the Eredar could not help but laugh heartily.

"Before that, Master." Waiting for him to recover, Velania raised her head, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. "I still have questions."

"Speak, my elven protégé."

Ignoring the sarcasm in his tone, the image of that mage assistant surfaced in Velania's mind: "That Lanlos—he used the same power as us before the Conduit Crystal. Why did you specifically order that he not be killed?"

His emerald eyes were instantly replaced by cold indifference as Sathael gazed at her calmly: "That is not for you to know."

"But... ah!"

She had performed her duties, and his dismissive tone left Velania deeply indignant. Yet, before she could retort, her Eredar master raised his scythe.

The blade of Ulthalesh suddenly bloomed with a faint red light, and strands of pale, ghostly silk drifted through the air, rooting themselves deep within Velania's soul.

The excruciating pain nearly sent the Ley Line Warden crashing to the floor; only a desperate reflex saved her from intimate contact with the filthy ground.

"Wh-why?!" Velania's trembling arms braced against the floor, summoning every ounce of her strength to force out the words.

"As a servant, your only duty is to obey... though I do admire your ambition." His tone shifted. Perhaps struck by a sudden thought, Sathael offered a faint smile as he withdrew the Soul Lash. "However, that traitor is not someone you can afford to provoke."

"Traitor?" After a brief silence, Velania's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean to say... he is a demon?!"

"Indeed, and a powerful, vital one at that. Did you not ask me how to open the portal connecting the Shattered Abyss to Azeroth?" The smile on Sathael's face made Velania feel a bone-deep chill. "He is the Keystone."

!!!

"Remember, attend to your own tasks. The Legion's plans are not for you to pry into." Sensing the energy of the altar nearing exhaustion, Sathael ended the conversation with a 'benevolent' reminder. "Otherwise, I shall reclaim the gift I bestowed upon you."

A gift?

Watching the projection fade, Velania seemed to recall something. Panic-stricken, she gathered her magic, and a veil of water appeared before her.

The reflection in the water remained youthful and vibrant; her alluring face was the asset she took most pride in.

But now, her once smooth, delicate skin was cracked over large areas, and clusters of azure crystals, like tumors, protruded from her flesh.

"No!" Instantly frantic, Velania wore an expression of terror far greater than when she had faced Sathael.

But she quickly regained her composure, immediately channeling the dark power hidden deep within her soul.

Threads of green flame appeared, clinging to the crystallized magic like maggots to bone. Gradually, the fel fire consumed them as easily as if they were fuel.

As her appearance returned to normal, Velania let out a long sigh and slumped to the floor, indifferent to her posture. Looking at the withered, decaying corpses nearby, her eyes shimmered with a complex, inscrutable light, and her thoughts drifted far away.

Velania's parents had died in the Troll Wars; orphaned and helpless, she had suffered endless bullying and humiliation. Yet, the tides of fortune turn; though her youth was fraught with hardship, fate had not driven her to a dead end.

She possessed a beautiful face, and through her charm and assets, she had the fortune to walk the path of the Arcane, earning the envy and respect of many. Alas, spellcasting demands talent and diligence—two things she lacked as someone who sought only quick success.

To advance her spellcasting, she had come to the Western Temple and, through various means, became a Ley Line Warden in a very short time. Though her lack of strength drew much criticism, the Western Temple was remote and desolate, and there was no fixed standard for a Warden's power, so the gossip eventually faded.

Velania finally had the chance to realize her ambitions. When she impatiently absorbed the vast magic surrounding her, her arrogance cost her a price she would regret for a lifetime.

The temple's magic was far more potent than she had imagined. The uncontrollable power eroded her body like cancer; purple magical crystals gradually replaced her smooth skin, and the shadow of death loomed over her. The very asset she had relied on and taken pride in all her life... was gone.

If people knew of this, I would become the laughingstock of all... No, never! I will make those wretched elves pay for what they have done!

Where there are people, there is oppression—all the more so in Quel'Thalas, where the caste system reigned supreme. Velania was a victim of this class divide. For revenge, to overturn this status, she needed power. To gain power so great it could not be shaken, she would sell her soul—let alone this gilded, hollow Quel'Thalas.

At this moment, Lanlos did not know he had become a 'tool' for Sathael. He sat quietly in his cage, focused on constructing the spell model before him. Though he had roughly guessed the sequence of events, he could find no way to clear his name. As for pleading his innocence, any fool could see he was a scapegoat, but as a Warden, Landral had to provide Silvermoon City with an answer—and until Velania was caught, Lanlos was that answer.

Across from him, Vereesa surveyed the cage—originally intended for Trolls—with a complex expression, her heart filled with boundless grievance and bitterness. Yet, seeing Lanlos so calm, his refusal to yield forced her to suppress the urge to scream and rage.

"How can you be so calm? Aren't you worried about our situation?"

"Worried? Does it help?" Continuing to trace the projection only he could see, Lanlos diverted a fraction of his attention to ask in return.

"But we were framed! We must find them and explain everything..."

"Vereesa, do you think they have the leisure to listen to us right now?" Lanlos shook his head gently, secretly envying her naivety.

"We can't just stay here forever! I never imagined I would be imprisoned by my own kin." Vereesa sounded indignant.

"Don't be impatient. Once Landral deals with the crystal issue, they will come for us... Look, aren't they here now?" Turning his head slowly, Lanlos fixed his gaze on the distance.

Following his line of sight, several mages in exquisite robes were walking briskly toward them.

"Take them to the temple. Magister Landral wishes to interrogate them personally."

Lanlos offered Vereesa a faint smile and stepped out of the cell of his own accord. As for Vereesa, she curled her lip and shook off the guards' restraints: "Don't touch me, I can walk on my own!"

It turned out that having a high Charisma stat really had its perks. The guards cast an inquiring look at the mage, and upon seeing him nod, even the guards beside Lanlos released his arms.

"Lady Vereesa Windrunner, we express our deepest sympathies for your ordeal, but please, you must understand our position." Although the elven mage who delivered the order spoke with a respectful tone, his stern expression remained unchanged.

Hearing this, Lanlos narrowed his eyes. Of course, he wasn't concerned with how the other party knew Vereesa's identity, but rather the implications behind those words.

The only ones capable of tampering with the Conduit Array would, unsurprisingly, be spellcasters.

Besides, with a half-baked mage like himself present, the Eastern Temple had no reason to risk offending the Windrunner family by pinning the blame on Vereesa as well.

Silently shaking his head, Lanlos did not rush to defend himself. He followed closely in the mage's footsteps, carefully contemplating the events that might unfold next and how to respond to them.