Two Old Foxes and a Cheating Little Fox

"My lord, the person has been brought here."

"Thank you, Iniven. You may withdraw."

"As you command."

The meticulous mage bowed to Belovar and then retreated from the room without a sound. As for Lanlos, he stood at the doorway, locking eyes with the man, and for a moment, silence descended.

There was no sharp confrontation, no overwhelming aura of authority; the Grand Magister looked just like a kind, middle-aged uncle. Given the pride High Elf society took in their appearance and temperament, he looked remarkably plain and unremarkable, lacking any of the world-dominating majesty one might expect from his station.

He seemed like a completely different person from the one Lanlos had encountered at the Eastern Temple.

"It seems you aren't very happy to see me again?" Snapping his fingers, a delicate goblet drifted slowly toward Lanlos.

Taking the glass, Lanlos made no move to taste the fine wine within. "A little, perhaps. After all, our meeting could have been moved up by more than an hour."

"Oh? Are you very busy?" Magic lifted a slice of lemon into the wine. As a chill surged through the air, layers of white frost bloomed upon the surface. Belovar sipped his iced cocktail, seemingly more interested in the drink than the man before him.

Yet, Lanlos could feel a subtle gaze resting upon him from time to time.

"Just some minor matters."

Lanlos felt incredibly awkward. He disliked being in Belovar's presence; he harbored a faint fear that this Grand Magister might, in the midst of casual conversation, suddenly reveal the secret of the Fel within him.

"Then I suppose I must apologize." Belovar tossed the goblet aside, and it rode the wind back to the table with steady precision. "Today's meeting might be a long one."

The furrows between Lanlos's brows deepened as he stared at the other man with a solemn expression.

After a brief silence, just as the atmosphere threatened to reach a freezing point, Belovar suddenly laughed. "Haha, don't be nervous. I was only joking. Please, sit."

Glancing at the chair that had appeared behind him, Lanlos hesitated for a moment before sitting down, half-believing and half-doubting.

Thankfully, it didn't collapse... and it was actually quite soft.

"In truth, I brought you here for two main reasons." Seeing Lanlos relax, Belovar shed his flippant attitude and finally returned to the main topic.

"First, could you tell me how you managed to resolve that energy vortex?"

It had finally come.

Lanlos's muscles tensed involuntarily. After a short, cold silence, he put on an innocent, questioning face. "I'm not entirely sure myself. Landral had gone off to chase that Troll, and being left alone, I didn't know what else to do. I cast a Force Impact at the crystal, and then it just fell."

A long silence followed, the atmosphere in the room becoming awkward to the extreme. But both men were quick-witted and revealed nothing of their true thoughts to the other.

Lanlos hadn't expected the Grand Magister to believe his fabrication, but since there was no second witness to the event, as long as his story wasn't completely absurd, it would suffice.

After all, with such a mess occurring across several temples, Grand Magister Belovar surely had plenty to keep him busy. He certainly wouldn't waste his energy on a minor incident that couldn't be verified and posed no threat to Quel'Thalas.

The Grand Magister's lips curled into a faint arc, breaking the ice. "In that case, you are quite lucky."

Lanlos's brow furrowed slightly.

He had prepared himself to deny everything to the death, but the fact that the other man chose to believe his words so quickly—without further questioning—made him even more nervous.

It meant that either Belovar trusted him implicitly, or he had found a reason to shield him. The former was a joke; as for the latter, the possibilities were endless.

"Thank you for clearing that up for me. Now, let us discuss the second matter." Nodding, Belovar crossed his arms, and an imposing, effortless authority suddenly filled the room, causing Lanlos to feel immense pressure.

This was the true bearing of a Grand Magister, the legendary spellcaster he had seen that day!

Watching Lanlos walk away under Iniven's guidance, Belovar kept his gaze fixed on the young man's back until he vanished from sight.

"It seems your judgment was wrong."

The Grand Magister's voice echoed in the room, and a moment later, a straight-backed figure emerged from the corner. Instantly, it felt as if countless windows had been opened in the dim room, and the surroundings seemed to brighten inexplicably.

The newcomer was older than the Grand Magister, with a thick, neat, graying beard that covered his chin perfectly. Paired with his crisp robes and the warm aura he radiated constantly, he appeared more spirited and upright than Belovar.

"The lad has a good heart, but his thinking is still quite immature—very much in line with his age. Though he hides a few things, he is a young man, after all; everyone has secrets they don't want others to know. Your worries are likely unnecessary." Producing another filled goblet from somewhere, Belovar sipped it while sharing his opinion.

Standing still for a long time, Vondelor watched the spot where Lanlos had stood until a goblet drifted before him.

"I still stand by my view. There is something about this boy—something that even the Sunwell avoids." Taking the glass, Vondelor did not drink heartily. "We cannot afford to be careless."

As old friends of many years, Belovar had long since established a deep, unspoken understanding with the man. He knew Vondelor—in some ways, better than Vondelor knew himself.

"You just trust that 'Holy Light' of yours too much. You get suspicious the moment there's the slightest disturbance. Old friend, you're being neurotic."

Glancing at the Grand Magister who was mocking him, Vondelor sighed expressionlessly. "You're right, I am indeed too anxious. It seems I must recall all the priests of the Sunfury Legion to counsel me for a decade or eight..."

"Old brother, try this. It's my private reserve of Winterspring Firewater. It's potent, spicy, and clears the mind and strengthens the body! Any neurosis will vanish like smoke!" Flashing to Vondelor's side, the Grand Magister produced an unassuming bottle from nowhere, its rich, intoxicating fragrance inexplicably captivating.

Vondelor smiled slightly and, without a hint of politeness, took the entire bottle. "You are thoughtful, old brother. I will be sure to tell my students of your and the Sunfury Legion's generosity."

Though he kept a straight face, the twitching corner of Belovar's eye betrayed his true thoughts. As the saying goes, he who holds the milk is the mother; the value of healers in war goes without saying, especially for the Dawnblade Knights, who were few in number but held critical positions.

If not for the fact that Vondelor controlled the supply of healers... Damn it, my Winterspring Firewater!!!

Stepping out of the Tower of Sunfury, Lanlos let out a long breath. The feeling of being watched vanished, and the pressure lifted along with it.

The second matter Belovar had mentioned was unexpected, yet reasonable: the Grand Magister wanted him to join the Sunfury Legion.

No wonder Fastherin had given him such a generous reward and used a string of trumped-up errors to stir his guilt; he had clearly anticipated this all along.

Recalling his time since entering the academy, Lanlos couldn't help but wear a playful smile, realizing he had never truly been treated like an educator. Now, even a Grand Magister had come to poach him; these blockheads were finally starting to trade favors.

Thinking of this, Lanlos couldn't help but see Alona in a new light. Although she was strict, she remained true to her principles, willing to assign him tasks even at such a critical juncture—and the most tedious, errand-running ones at that.

If he hadn't truly lacked any intention of jumping ship, Alona would likely have been reprimanded by the board of decision-makers.

That was right; Lanlos had rejected the generous offer from Belovar.

It wasn't just because of the Bag of Holding and the staff; the key was that Sargerite had discovered a third person in the room.

Bowing his head, Lanlos kept his face hidden in the shadows, ensuring no one could see his piercing, sharp gaze.

Although he couldn't pinpoint it exactly, the shadow energy within him was trembling; such powerful Holy Light... and more importantly, it was in the same room as the Grand Magister!

Lanlos knew this man: Vondelor, the future adoptive father of the Blood Knight leader Liadrin, and the current High Priest of Silvermoon City.

For the usually upright High Priest to be hiding in a corner—no one in their right mind would believe there wasn't something fishy going on.

Lanlos had no desire to live under the surveillance of these two old foxes.