Pride and Prejudice

Ignoring the daily bickering of his two good friends, Lanlos looked at the brief transfer order, his expression turning somewhat inscrutable.

'Tell Lanlos that the Windrunner Blade is his; this is a token of gratitude from the Windrunner.'

Gratitude? What gratitude? And is that it? Didn't I contribute quite a bit? Where is the promised reward?

"Brother, don't be discouraged just yet." Halduron clearly sensed that something was off with Lanlos and threw an arm around his shoulder. "You have to remember that you don't belong to the Farstriders. Neither Lor'themar nor Sylvanas has the authority to judge or reward you. The Grand Magister and the others certainly won't treat you unfairly."

Unexpectedly, Lanlos shook his head with a smile: "I'm not worried about that, it's just..."

"Oh~" Wearing a look that every man understood, Halduron tightened his grip, squeezing Lanlos until he could barely breathe. "Sylvanas? That woman is indeed beautiful, but don't get any ideas. Even if a rose has thorns, there's still a place to grab it, but have you ever seen anyone try to catch a hedgehog with their bare hands?"

Just because I haven't seen it doesn't mean it's impossible.

Shrugging, Lanlos chose to end the topic with silence.

Although he was indeed interested in Sylvanas, it was not in the way Halduron imagined.

As the second daughter of the Windrunner family, the Ranger General of Quel'Thalas, and the future Banshee Queen of the Undercity, this tall, beautiful elf was once the undisputed number one in popularity among players.

Lanlos had once been a fan of hers as well.

Of course, not of the Ranger General, but of the Banshee Queen who would one day rule from the Undercity.

He traced something in the air with extreme slowness and focus, as if he were not wielding magic, but painting with an artist's brush. Judging by the fine beads of sweat on Lanlos's forehead, this task was slightly overloading him.

This was already the third day since returning to the academy; including the time spent on the road, Lanlos had spent nearly a week on this spell.

Third-circle spells were even more difficult than he had imagined. Even with the help of the Sargerite's 3D projection, his progress remained sluggish.

Pyroblast model construction complete... Completion assessment: 73.14%... Activation failed...

Another failure. Although the completion rate was much higher than before, Lanlos still felt unsatisfied.

Pyroblast was not unfamiliar to him; he had even used it himself when wiping out those Troll in Golden Branch Village. While he had the innate affinity for fire magic granted by the Fel, there was no denying that he was already a practiced hand.

Yet now, he was stuck at the half-open door. He was just one step away—just one step away from mastering this weapon of mass destruction.

Slowly, Lanlos's mood began to grow agitated.

Just as he prepared to continue constructing the spell model, the elf youth noticed the 3D projection before him suddenly vanish. After a moment of stunned silence, Lanlos hurriedly questioned the Keystone: "Sargerite, are you glitching out?"

'Subject's focus state detected as terminated. Failure rate for continued model construction is high. Energy-saving system activated automatically.'

"I..." Clenching his teeth, Lanlos felt helpless, knowing the entity was right.

With a soft sigh, the youth sat on the edge of the cliff, his legs dangling over the side as he swung them unconsciously. His gaze followed the shimmering sea all the way to the horizon where the sky met the water.

This was the drawback of improving one's strength too quickly.

The complexity of the Pyroblast spell model was not much higher than a 2nd-circle spell, but the precision and magical intensity required to construct the spell nodes were significantly higher.

This was why it was said that a third-tier caster was the only one truly stepping through the gates of the Arcane. Lanlos had sufficient understanding and reserves of magic, but to successfully cast a 3rd-circle spell, he needed to compress and refine his magic repeatedly.

It was like a cup; before, it was enough to fill it with water, but now, he had to fill it with mercury.

Rustle!

The sound of abnormal movement in the grass reached his ears. Lanlos immediately stopped his reflection and began to gather his magic, but upon seeing the message from the Sargerite, he slowly withdrew it: "I said, hasn't Sylvanas already given the Windrunner Blade to me?"

Turning his head, a familiar, slender figure came into view.

Vereesa's beautiful eyes blinked rapidly, and an awkward smile flashed across her face: "Um, I'm here to apologize to you."

"Apologize?" Recalling the girl's consistently overbearing attitude, Lanlos looked quite surprised. "Are you serious?"

"I've already heard from the Farstriders about what happened in Golden Branch Village." Whether out of regret or nervousness, Vereesa kept her hands behind her back, her fingers twisting together involuntarily. "I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Hearing this, Lanlos shook his head with a smile. "That matter had nothing to do with you."

What Vereesa was referring to, naturally, was the task Sarell had given her, which had led her to prejudge Lanlos as a villain and mistakenly believe he had taken the Windrunner Blade purely for his own gain.

But she naturally wouldn't reveal the specific reason, leaving Lanlos somewhat confused about the motive for her apology.

"I'm talking about the things that happened afterward." Recalling how many jokes she had made of herself due to her own self-righteousness, Vereesa's face turned from white to red, the speed of the change truly astonishing. "Anyway, I've already apologized, now it's your turn!"

"My turn?" Seeing Vereesa glaring at him with her arms crossed, Lanlos pointed at his own nose, feeling confused all over again.

Did I do something wrong?

"You still want to deny it?"

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to be denying, so how can I?"

"You touched me that night... and what about that time at the Western Temple? Do you have no idea what you did with that rope?" Clenching her teeth, Vereesa recalled those humiliating scenes, and her anger flared up again. Those lively eyes seemed ready to spit fire at any moment.

Watching her bashful, unspeakable expression, Lanlos laughed heartlessly: "That can't be blamed on me. If you hadn't attacked me indiscriminately in the first place, I wouldn't have..."

Thwip!

A streak of light flashed before his eyes, cutting off Lanlos's speech. Looking at the arrow tail vibrating as it remained embedded in the ground, a flash of insight crossed his mind, but when he looked back, nothing remained.

"I knew it! You bastard, you're no good!" At some point, Vereesa had notched another arrow onto her bowstring.

"Little girl." Lanlos looked at the quivering fletching, his voice gradually deepening. Every word seemed to possess magic, striking Vereesa's chest slowly like a heavy hammer. "Didn't Lirath tell you? The academy doesn't allow the carrying of standard-issue weapons. That's exactly why he suffered such a huge loss."

Bearing this inexplicable pressure, Vereesa opened her mouth, but before she could make a sound, Lanlos spoke again: "And launching an attack on a faculty member within the academy is a serious violation of school rules. You'll be expelled."

Silence, a long, drawn-out silence. Vereesa's expression shifted constantly; under the other's stern gaze, she felt as if something were lodged in her chest, a stifling, inexplicable blockage.

"I have met both of your sisters." Rising slowly, Lanlos spoke in a voice that was faint yet possessed a magnetic, piercing quality. "Compared to them, you..."

The second half of the sentence remained unsaid, but that very omission left room for endless imagination. For Vereesa, who was at an age prone to overthinking, such unfinished words were impossible to forget.

"Bastard!" Shamed and furious, Vereesa let out a roar in a trembling voice. She immediately released her fingers, and with the vibration of the bowstring, the arrow was upon Lanlos in an instant.

Glancing at the arrow that had just embedded itself in the dirt right before his toes, Lanlos looked up again, only to find that Vereesa had already vanished from his sight.

Does no one want to sit down calmly and talk to this old man about ideals and life?

Shrugging his shoulders, a completely oblivious Lanlos pulled the arrow from the ground, only to freeze in his tracks.

No arrowhead?

Seeming to recall something, the elven youth immediately walked to a nearby tree trunk and pulled out the other arrow with a forceful tug. It was the same; the spot where the arrowhead should have been was empty, perfectly flat save for the wood shavings from the friction. It was less of an arrow and more of an oversized chopstick.

This little girl is not bad at all.

Caressing the flat tip, Lanlos wore a rather strange smile. These training arrows were not among the weapons banned by the academy; after all, not everyone was like Vereesa, capable of piercing halfway through a tree trunk with one.

To be precise, among all the ranger students, she was likely the only one.

Yet, this girl was not physically strong.

On the contrary, her strength was a notch below his own, making it truly incredible that she possessed such powerful marksmanship.

Recalling the moment the girl drew her bow, Lanlos stopped moving entirely. A familiar spark of inspiration flashed through his mind, and this time, he caught it.

Grinning, Lanlos let out an excited laugh, then immediately sat cross-legged and contacted Sargerite to project the 3D model of the Pyroblast spell once more.

There is a concept called "chocolate"... not the edible kind, of course.

In other words, breaking through a surface with a single point.

Most of Lanlos's insights regarding the Arcane came from Belash, that Doomguard. They were essentially based on simply saturating the entire spell model with mana. While simple, it required an extremely high level of personal power.

Among mortals, aside from that "Arcane second-generation" Medivh, few likely possessed such strength.

Lanlos, at present, was certainly not among them.

Therefore, mortal spellcasters focused on maximizing mana efficiency, streamlining mana output without sacrificing the spell's effect.

Previously, relying on the support of Belash's soul, Lanlos had ignored this technique, but now, with Vereesa's help, he prepared to put it into practice.

A spell model is composed of countless spell nodes, much like building blocks. Whether they are energy conversion nodes, flow-guiding nodes, or energy-gathering nodes, each performs its own duty, condensing, shifting, and altering mana step by step to form mysterious and powerful magic.

The composition of each node differs, and their functions vary wildly.

"Sargerite, analyze all spell nodes and provide optimization plans based on my instructions..."

Analyzing...

Node coordinates (2.82, -3.1, 11)... Function: Flow-guiding, transmission... Optimize mana infusion limit to 32.81%...

Node coordinates (0, 0, 0)... Function: Fire element conversion, activation... Node tolerance excellent... Optimize mana infusion limit to 195.27%...

Node...

Lanlos focused intently on the Keystone's corrections to the 3D model, tirelessly listening to the mechanical prompts ringing in his ears.

He did not notice that in the bushes not far away, a pair of azure eyes were staring fixedly at him.

Watching Lanlos subconsciously fiddle with the arrows in his hands, Vereesa felt an inexplicable sensation wash over her entire body. It was as if those two training arrows were extensions of her own limbs, and his repetitive touching made her skin crawl with goosebumps.

"Pervert!"

Cursing under her breath, Vereesa fled the grove as if escaping. She could not see that a crimson flush had already risen to her cheeks. Nor did she notice that the blockage in her heart had suddenly, completely, vanished.