Claiming Credit

After going inside, Duke was a little dazed.

Just like in World of Warcraft, the recruitment areas were divided by class.

But unlike a 3D game, this was a real world.

The warrior recruitment area had the most people. Looking at the warrior examiner and the applicants, every one of them had arms thicker than Duke's thighs. Duke knew he had no chance.

Was this some gathering of demonic musclemen?

"Rage! To become a warrior, the first thing you need is to sense rage! Not the rage you feel when someone stabs your ass with a knife, but rage that turns into energy—rage you can physically sense!" the examiner bellowed.

Duke pondered, Rage? Does having a goddamn heart count as rage?

The hunter test was also beyond what a college student like Duke could handle. Shoot an apple thirty yards away with a bow? Nowadays, aside from archery teams at sports academies, what college student had ever even touched a bow?

Rogues were no good either. Their test actually measured agility. Like some kind of mystical footwork, candidates had to "fly" across a river over ten meters wide by stepping on three small stones protruding from the water at varying distances.

The ridiculous part was that several people actually did it. Before Duke transmigrated, people like that could have gone on one of those water-park television shows and won big prizes!

Yet this was merely the entry trial for novice rogues!?

At that moment, countless thoughts ran through Duke's mind.

Even though he knew quite a bit about Azeroth's future course, it was useless. If his status was too low, no one would listen to him. He needed to attain a high position, but integrating into this fantasy world that resembled medieval Europe was far harder than he had imagined!

Suddenly, a burst of commotion rose up. Duke seemed to hear the crowd cheering, "Salute Sir Brando, who eliminated this menace to the people and slew the savage boar 'Prince'!"

The crowd erupted.

The young people from out of town were still confused, but all the locals eagerly crowded forward, offering their grandest blessings to the noble young master surrounded by the crowd.

There were simply too many people. Duke could not see what the nobleman looked like, but that did not stop him from seeing the boar hide held high on a wooden frame by four servants.

As if struck by lightning, Duke's mind went blank.

Wasn't that boar the very one that had killed him not long ago, before he had lured it over for Alleria to kill with her flashy three-arrows-on-one-string shot?

"Honorable Sir Brando, how did you kill this savage giant boar?" someone in the crowd shouted.

Immediately, Duke heard a shrill male voice. "Hahaha! I'm a once-in-a-century arcane genius! A mere boar was nothing—I killed it with a single Fireball!"

Someone immediately chimed in, "That's right! Sir Brando is an arcane genius! He has already passed the arcane trial and become a member of Stormwind Royal Academy of Arcane Arts!"

"Praise Sir Brando!" the crowd shouted in unison.

Duke had seen shamelessness before, but never shamelessness like this!

Claiming credit so brazenly, Duke was deeply annoyed when he heard it. That boar that killed me was clearly taken down by Demon King Alleria. What the hell does it have to do with a noble bastard like you?

But someone else was even more furious.

A graceful figure hidden among the treetops gave a cold snort. She glanced at Duke, who showed no reaction. Having just been led away and still nursing her displeasure, she suddenly realized this might be an opportunity to force Duke to reveal his true abilities.

Then she looked at the vial of holy medicine in her hand, capable of saving someone as long as they still had one breath left, and muttered with a spit, "At worst, I'll save you afterward."

The next second, a voice seventy percent similar to Duke's drifted over on the wind.

"Sir Brando's Fireballs are truly incredible! Two Fireballs shot into Prince's eyes like arrows, while another hit Prince's throat. Every wound was fatal! Look, there isn't even the slightest scorch mark on Prince's hide. Sir Brando is so amazing—"

The moment those words rang out, the entire scene fell silent.

Everyone's necks seemed to turn into rusted machines. With great difficulty, they turned their heads toward that nearly flawless boar hide.

Most commoners were ignorant. They blindly worshipped powerful mages who wielded mysterious forces, but anyone who thought about it for a moment would know why a Fireball had not burned the boar hide.

In truth, no one had failed to notice such a clumsy act of claiming credit. But nobles taking others' achievements for themselves had long become commonplace. Anyone with a brain rationally chose to remain silent. After all, deceiving ignorant subjects was no crime.

Yet some fool had exposed the truth, and now there was no way to smooth things over.

Actually, Duke had already felt that something was wrong the moment he heard that voice.

What made him feel most inexplicably targeted was the system notification he saw.

"You have been targeted by a powerful mysterious individual using the [Misdirection] skill. All threat previously generated against Brando will be transferred to you."

What?

What the hell was this?

[Misdirection] could be used like this? That made no sense!

At that moment, Duke knew he had been set up. Although he immediately realized who had set him up, where was he supposed to find a Yellow River to jump into and clear his name at a time like this?

Duke's face turned pale in an instant.

And through the "telepathic connection" formed by Misdirection, Brando easily spotted Duke in the crowd.

"You... you... what did you say? You lowly commoner, are you claiming that I—Sir Brando, whose veins carry the bloodline of Emperor Thoradin—am lying and claiming credit?" The crowd suddenly parted like a receding tide, revealing the protagonist Duke had pushed to the forefront. He was a blond young man with a pointed face and a mean-looking expression. With narrowed eyes, he glared furiously at Duke.

The bloodline of Emperor Thoradin was merely a common way for nobles to glorify themselves. Among all nobles, only one person was truly acknowledged to possess Emperor Thoradin's bloodline. His name was Anduin Lothar.

Actually, the moment a certain elven ranger general spoke up, Duke had considered making a quick escape. But for some reason, hearing that elf say what he had wanted to say but dared not, much of the anger in his heart dissipated instead.

He did not know why Alleria was here, but since she refused to let Brando steal the credit, would she dislike him if he chickened out?

Even though she had rather shamelessly set him up with Misdirection.

Besides, who was stronger—Demon King Alleria, or some nobody named Brando whose name he had never even heard before? Anyone could tell without thinking.

Trying to please both sides was clearly impossible.

So Duke decisively chose to raise his reputation with Demon King Alleria.

Duke smiled as well, fearlessly meeting the gaze of the noble youth named Brando. "No, I merely wanted to see how the great once-in-a-century genius mage Lord Brando could throw a Fireball as small as an arrow, without reducing its power, and instantly kill such a huge boar."

Naturally, Brando could not do that. If he could, he would at least be a high-ranking mage. His pointed face immediately flushed the color of pig liver, and he nearly screamed, "Commoner! You aren't even a class holder! You have no right to question me!"

At that moment, Vice Captain Viri, who had helped Duke earlier, somehow appeared beside him and quietly said, "Sorry, Duke. Commoners have no right to question any action by a noble, because subjects themselves are the property of their lord. I don't know where you came from, nor do I know why your parents never taught you the common laws of human kingdoms. But I must remind you that rashly offending a noble is not a wise thing to do."

Duke shuddered. He seemed to feel Alleria watching him, and immediately asked in a low voice, "Are you telling me to submit to that bastard?"

Vice Captain Viri's eyes dimmed. "Child, integrity is a rare and precious virtue. I do not want to discourage you, but the truth is—once you leave Northshire Abbey, I cannot guarantee your safety. And Brando holds the dual status of noble and mage apprentice. Even ordinary nobles would not choose to oppose him."