[What the Dagger Lady Was Good For]

"How is she doing now?"

Xal'atath had said a great deal, most of it filled with schemes and twisted values that would make any normal humanoid shudder.

Tonatiuh only half-listened. Once he felt he had heard enough, he interrupted the dagger lady and pointed at the pitiful human mage lying on the Devilsaur-hide mattress.

"Oh! Very badly."

"Her arcane skills and magic are quite good. But her mind is utterly fragile. I used less than one ten-thousandth of my power, and she lost herself."

"To defeat her enemy."

"She even couldn't resist casting magic she could no longer control, and unfortunately encountered the former Guardian. That was not an enemy she could defeat yet, so she was severely injured. Her body is fine, but magic is raging through her body. It will make her wish she were dead!"

"Oh, the poor little girl... That must feel awful! I think..."

Xal'atath was about to start rambling again. Tonatiuh felt that the dagger lady was truly a little too talkative. He knew that one of the Old Gods' greatest traits was their endless chatter, but it still became irritating after a while.

"If I wanted to heal her, what should I do? Is there any way?" Tonatiuh cut in.

"What a strange troll. Aren't trolls and humans sworn mortal enemies? Healing her would be simple. What is happening inside her body is not an injury, merely magical backlash. The best solution would naturally be to send her to Dalaran, or to those pale, long-eared folk."

Quel'Thalas or Dalaran?

Sorry, that seemed impossible. And even if it were possible, it would probably take a long time to get her there.

Tonatiuh shook his head.

"What's a more practical solution?"

"There is none. Without outside intervention, you can only wait for her to wake up, then let her slowly recover and deal with it herself."

Tonatiuh fell silent.

He glanced at Modera. The young mage's breathing had remained uneven. Although her eyes were closed, her expression had never relaxed. She was clearly enduring immense pain.

There was nothing he could do.

At least she did not look like she would die anytime soon, and they had no real relationship. Saving her in the first place was already proof enough of his conscience. Tonatiuh stood, picked up Xal'atath, and walked out of the tent.

"Can you not hold me like that? Contact with you makes me feel awful. I can't muster even a bit of strength."

"No."

[Quest Requirement: Subjugate the fire elementals of Fire Plume Ridge. Kill at least ten Flame Invaders, fifty Living Flames, and one hundred Scorching Elementals...]

[Current Progress: Flame Invaders 0/10, Living Flames 31/50, Scorching Elementals 58/100]

The quest progress appeared before his eyes. So far, completion was going quite well. The only problem was the Flame Invaders. Their class levels were as high as level 15 and level 14. According to the system's assessment, if beings at that class level were intelligent creatures living in groups, they would already be among the strongest figures in their city or tribe.

Like Modera.

At such a young age, she was already an Archmage of Dalaran, a level 16 mage. According to the "original plot," around two or three decades later, during the Second War, she would become one of Dalaran's most powerful figures and one of the six members of the Kirin Tor Council.

Her current status in Dalaran and among humanity was certainly not low.

The Flame Invaders had been rated as high as level 15 by the system, seemingly not much weaker than an Archmage like Modera. But Tonatiuh also knew that if they truly fought, an Archmage would definitely crush a Flame Invader.

It could not be helped.

Prepared mages were simply that unreasonable, especially after Tonatiuh had personally watched the system-rated level 15 Aegwynn crush the level 16-rated Modera.

That made him believe even more strongly that different power systems and classes could produce vastly different results, even at the same level.

If a level 20 legendary mage fought a level 20 legendary warrior—say, Khadgar, Rhonin, or Jaina against Saurfang or Grom Hellscream—who do you think would win without any cheats?

Tonatiuh thought it would be the mage.

But if it were Jaina against Grom Hellscream, the outcome might be different. After all, Grom's cheat was his own ability. With a lucky swing of his axe, even demigods and demon lords would have to kneel...

Tonatiuh vaguely understood that the reason he had been able to trade blows with two such powerful elementals and escape safely was not because he was strong enough. It was because his absurd magic immunity had rendered the fire elementals' greatest trump cards useless.

If an ordinary great warrior faced a Flame Invader, the flames surrounding it alone would likely be enough to reduce low-level class holders to ashes, or inflict grievous injuries upon them.

That meant his troops and subordinates, whose approximate strength ranged from levels 4 to 7 according to the system's assessment, could gang up on Living Flames of at most level 9 and Scorching Elementals of level 6 with little pressure, aided by enchanted weapons and equipment. But against Flame Invaders with such an overwhelming gap in strength... the odds were grim.

Even if he used human-wave tactics, he might be able to complete the quest, but the casualties would certainly be severe.

The key was his weapon.

The fine-steel greatsword he had bought from the goblins was decent against flesh-and-blood creatures, but it was not very effective against elementals. After this battle, many chips had appeared along the blade. It was not hard enough.

He needed a better weapon.

But he could not use enchanted weapons. Once elemental-slayer weapons and similar enchanted armaments reached his hands, they would lose their enchantments before long.

Even a terrifying weapon like Xal'atath, when held by him, kept her dreadful dark power obediently sealed within the dagger, without leaking even the slightest trace.

Other than being able to speak.

She was almost no different from an ordinary dagger. The only difference was probably that her material was rather special.

Wait.

Xal'atath...

Tonatiuh remembered that the Blade of the Dark Empire itself seemed to be made from a fragment of the Old God Xal'atath's claw.

An Old God's claw!

That should be pretty hard, right?

As he walked among trolls who respectfully greeted him upon seeing him, Tonatiuh suddenly asked in his mind, "Little Xal, I have a question!"

"Don't call me that! Call me Xal'atath, or Old God!"

"Alright, Little Xal."

"..."

The Old God was under someone else's roof. Xal'atath swallowed her anger. Once I break the spell that restricts me, I'll make you suffer eternal damnation!

"I have a question."

"Ask."

"The dagger you're hiding in seems to have been made from one of your original body's claws?"

"That is merely an insignificant part of my great body. It is not even—"

"Is it hard enough?"

"Why are you asking that?"

As they spoke, Tonatiuh arrived before a group of gathered trolls beneath their curious and reverent gazes. The two troll guards, Dezla and Kezra, had silently followed him the entire time.

Tonatiuh did not answer the dagger lady's question. He looked at one of the trolls. "Well? Is there any way to repair my weapon? It's covered in chips now..."

"Your Majesty..."

The troll he questioned trembled with fear, lowering his head as he held Tonatiuh's greatsword. "I'm afraid it will be difficult... I only know the most basic blacksmithing, which my grandfather learned from Zul'Farrak and taught me long ago. Please forgive my incompetence, Your Majesty..."

The troll blacksmith apprentice was practically about to kneel.

"I understand. Once our trade with those little green-skinned folk is established, I want you to study smithing in a goblin city. The Loa need trolls to forge weapons for Their warriors."

"For the Supreme and Most High! For Your Majesty, I am willing to give everything!"

"Mm..."

Tonatiuh patted the shoulder of the troll who possessed a little smithing skill. The latter was so flattered that he nearly dropped to his knees.

He took his weapon from the troll, holding the greatsword in one hand and the Blade of the Dark Empire in the other.

He lined them up.

Xal'atath felt a wave of unease.

"Troll, what are you trying to do?"

"Hmm... I want to test something."

"Test something?"

Suddenly.

Tonatiuh raised Xal'atath and, beneath the watchful eyes of the trolls, viciously chopped down on his old weapon.

Within the sea of consciousness.

The Old God roared furiously, "No! You can't do this!"

Clang!

Sparks flew.

The fine-steel greatsword snapped cleanly in two.

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