Defying Fate

"Save the world? You!?"

"The world is perfectly safe under Lord Medivh's protection! We don't need your concern!"

"A mere mage apprentice dares dream of surpassing the great Guardian!?"

"Duke Marcus! You are insulting the Archmage! Insulting this supreme hall of arcane arts!"

The mere mage apprentices had no right to interject at all. The ones roaring in outrage were the Stormwind mages who had come with Medivh. There were not only full-fledged mages among them, but court mages of even higher standing.

The apprentices who had just been envious and resentful of Duke all retreated to the sidelines at a time like this, watching Duke at the center of the storm with malicious, hostile eyes, eager for a good show.

At first, they were merely accusing him. A few seconds later, his ears were filled with nothing but abuse. The mages craned their thick red necks, opening their mouths wide enough to see down their throats, and nearly crazily unleashed a barrage of insults at Duke with language befitting their status!

Medivh, who still maintained his gentlemanly bearing, frowned. Duke, meanwhile, was dumbfounded.

So trolls existed in every world.

Trolls hardly needed a reason to attack someone.

But when trolls had a reason, their firepower was enough to shake heaven and make ghosts weep.

The nearly endless torrent of abuse drowned out the entire hall, while Medivh... or rather, Medivh under the control of Sargeras's will, deliberately or otherwise displayed his astonishment as he secretly fanned the flames.

Originally, a single word from him would have been enough to shelter Duke from the siege.

But he said nothing.

In Sargeras's eyes, once young Duke faced such overwhelming pressure, his immature mind would break. Then he would submit, weeping bitterly as he knelt at Sargeras's feet.

But Duke's reaction was beyond his expectations. Duke simply stood there with his head held high, glaring coldly at the masses.

Sargeras did not know that Duke was a transmigrator.

In truth, Duke was thinking about something else entirely.

It was a good thing that I came to Azeroth this early, because this is practically Azeroth's last period of peace. I still have time to build up my strength.

It was a bad thing that I came to Azeroth this early, because these people have lived in peace for far, far too long.

Prolonged peace could make people forget that danger existed.

A kingdom's ruling class, unchanged for too long, caused people to lose their drive. Corruption and arrogance grew from within their hearts, yet no one noticed.

Or perhaps they had noticed, but believed it was only natural.

The hereditary system of the nobility made every noble, even every person of high rank, believe themselves born superior, entitled to stand apart from the common world and above all other people. Rather than saying they had launched a bold verbal assault on Duke, it would be more accurate to say that Duke had inadvertently provoked the entire inheritance-dependent noble system, prompting this extreme reaction!

It was simple. Medivh's mother, Aegwynn, was the Guardian of the world, an immortal symbol who had lived for more than eight hundred years. She had passed down the noble and powerful position of Guardian to her son. That was the highest symbol of noble bloodlines enduring through the ages.

And now, Duke, in his "reckless arrogance," claimed that he, a common mortal, would surpass this noble symbol of inheritance. Without question, he had touched the greatest taboo of everyone in power.

Duke suddenly gave a bitter smile.

So history was astonishingly similar in every world.

Countless great empires in Earth's ancient history had perished because of this, and now history seemed poised to repeat itself.

Since he had transmigrated here and could not return, his fate had already become tightly bound to Azeroth, a world that was about to face countless crises of destruction.

Then he had to do something!

Duke suddenly felt every sound around him vanish. The countless fingers pointing at his chest and face blurred as well. Those noble mages became like crude puppets in a shadow play, utterly incapable of affecting Duke's thoughts.

This transmigrator named Duke carefully sensed the pulse of fate from the world of Azeroth, felt the nearly irresistible, terrifying impact flowing from the river of destiny, and reflected on the meaning of his existence as a transmigrator...

At first, Duke had been lost.

He did not know what he could do.

Nor did he know what he wanted to do.

Perhaps he had only intended to drift along, simply for his own survival and growth.

One question had troubled Duke for a long time: if Azeroth's fate continued along that terrible inertia... what should he do?

Now, the answer to that question was growing clearer and clearer in Duke's mind.

What if it was fate?

Fight it!

Reverse it!!

Never become fate's slave!

I, Duke, will become fate's master!

Though angry, even sickly gazes surrounded him, though Duke was the only outcast in the entire hall, though someone as weak as him should have yielded right then and there—

Duke instead felt a torrent of scorching, surging blood pump powerfully from his heart, rushing through his arteries and into every part of his body. Like ten thousand galloping horses, it thundered through him, sending fierce emotion into every corner of his body and stirring every cell within him.

The corners of Duke's mouth quietly curved upward. He should have been enraged. He should have sneered. Yet his soul seemed to have left his body, floating above the hall as it calmly looked down upon these people who appeared powerful but were truly cowardly.

His gaze seemed to transcend time and space.

Scene after scene from the game replayed vividly before Duke's eyes.

He saw Stormwind fall beneath the ferocious orcish army. The capital of the greatest human kingdom in the south, with its beautiful outer walls, perished amid flames of destruction.

He saw humanity reclaim Stormwind under Anduin Lothar's leadership. A brand-new, more vigorous kingdom was reborn from the ashes of ruin.

Then it was destroyed again, only to be reborn once more!

Humanity's unyielding will found its most perfect expression in Stormwind!

And countless heroic figures, worthy of song and tears, were born amid crisis after crisis that might well have brought about the destruction of the world.

Remembering those great scenes, Duke suddenly felt fortunate. This time, he could finally throw himself into this grand epic as a participant.

Abruptly, Duke burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Hahahahaha—"

His wild, arrogant laughter stunned the entire hall. Every mouth that had been hurling abuse remained open, forgotten and unable to close. Every accusing finger froze rigidly in midair.

The mages were all stunned.

Duke's proud gaze swept from left to right across one hundred and eighty degrees.

"So—merely dreaming of 'surpassing legend' is already blasphemy."

"So—merely being 'unwilling to remain ordinary' is a crime in your eyes."

"So—the dignified Stormwind Royal Academy of Arcane Arts is actually this narrow-minded. No wonder when people speak of the greatest holy land of mages, they name Dalaran, not Stormwind."

"Fine, if you won't have me, then I'll leave. Bye, everyone!"

"Or are you going to execute me in the name of offending Lord Guardian Medivh?"