Inheritance

"Duke Nalorath." Kael'thas looked at his cousin, his expression complicated. "How did it feel?"

Without question, Lister had acknowledged his Sunstrider bloodline, but he had cleverly relinquished the Sunstrider surname, because it represented the imperial authority of the high elves. Of course, if he and his descendants chose to keep marrying into the Sunstrider collateral branches and continuously purify their bloodline, they might truly one day lay claim to Silvermoon City.

"Not good at all." Lister lay on the ground. Belo'vir had just beaten him down again. Even the Grand Magister had to admit that Lister seemed to have unleashed some potential akin to that of a mage who had downed three barrels of cider; his attacks had clearly become far more ferocious. "What is it?"

"It's like this. My father believes you should find a high elven woman as your partner. Uh, that is his suggestion. If you do so, you can obtain a council seat in Silvermoon City once you come of age." Kael'thas tried his best to avoid such complicated political affairs, but he could not escape this matter. The one before him was his cousin, and Sunstrider blood flowed through Lister's veins. He could not simply turn a blind eye. "Of course, you can refuse."

"Then I refuse." Lister's answer made Kael'thas pause. He smiled. "You're still as decisive as ever."

"No one likes being bound." Lister picked up the training greatsword from the rack. Salorian stepped forward from Belo'vir's side. Both of them used two-handed greatswords for training, and Kael'thas had to admit that Lister had indeed inherited the finest qualities of House Sunstrider.

Resolve, decisiveness, talent in the arcane arts, and potential in the realm of warriors. The prince watched the two greatswords cross. King Anasterian and Kael'thas were both exceptional mages and formidable warriors, just like their ancestor Dath'Remar.

Lister displayed the same traits. In the opening exchanges, his greatsword actually matched Salorian blow for blow. Though he later fell into a disadvantage, that was merely a gap in stamina and experience. In the realm of willpower, he was no inferior to any of the finest warriors.

Without suspense, Salorian knocked the sword from Lister's hand. The heavy stoneheart-wood blade struck his left arm and sent him sprawling to the ground. Salorian immediately stopped. Lister lay there, sucking in cold breaths, then gritted his teeth and took out a bottle of healing potion, pouring it into his mouth. After drinking it, he set the crystal vial aside. Kael'thas continued, "We have already sent word of you to every kingdom. At Grand Master Antonidas's request, the earliest Lordaeron envoy will arrive at the Violet Citadel in three days. I will return with you to meet those envoys."

"I know." Thinking of the lessons he owed Kel'Thuzad gave Lister a headache. Belo'vir's lessons progressed from shallow to deep, while Kel'Thuzad's cramming-style instruction was simply murderous. Many questions required him to consult Grand Master Antonidas before he could resolve them thoroughly. "I'll meet them."

"The royal court's master of ceremonies will arrive this afternoon to teach you how to receive those distinguished guests." Kael'thas folded his arms and continued watching Lister's battle with Salorian. This time, they had switched to one-handed swords. Lister held a greater advantage now. He had many feints, which instead left Salorian constrained at every turn, making the fight even fiercer.

"He looks very normal." Belo'vir stood beside Kael'thas. "Too calm. When I learned this news, I could scarcely believe it, yet he seemed to recover quickly and adapt to it."

That was because Lister possessed the soul of a modern man. In any case, they had not raised Lister. To him, the elderly couple sleeping beneath the earth were his parents, not Nalorath. Perhaps Nalorath truly had unspeakable difficulties, but that did not stop Lister from treating him as a cash machine, then merely mourning him with a few words in public. It would not kill anyone. Gold coins were what was truly real.

For the elven race, a half-elf duke was certainly not good news. But for the thinly populated House Sunstrider, it was necessary. The branching and flourishing of their bloodline would indirectly raise the high elves' influence. Blood relatives carrying their own family's blood were better than those elven nobles, after all. Lister could never gain the elves' recognition and inherit the throne; this was all the more an ingenious move for the elves to contend for power in Dalaran.

Just imagine: if Lister became the new Guardian and, incidentally, a Kirin Tor councilor, then Dalaran would have two councilors from House Sunstrider. House Sunstrider would ascend to a peak beyond anyone's reach. And if Lister chose a high elven woman, then passed the Guardian's power to his child as Aegwynn had... In fact, Lister was very likely to monopolize that power himself and live forever, until the day he no longer wished to live.

Then the high elves would have a demigod forever guarding Silvermoon City, while House Sunstrider would have its most steadfast and reliable ally forever protecting the king's position. Anasterian sighed. These were the matters a statesman had to consider. Within controllable limits, he had to maximize the high elves' interests.

For this, he met with numerous high elven nobles and spoke with them one by one, striving to secure Lister's position in Silvermoon City. A demigod belonging to the high elves—this was enough to convince even the most stubborn opposition. Even the old patriarch of House Delashir, a venerable elder of fully 3,800 years, had to admit that one had to invest in order to reap a harvest. Especially when the harvest was so immense, it was worth the high elves taking the risk.

And so, Lister gained his title. He gave up the Sunstrider surname, but did not choose a new surname for himself either. His reason was simple: he had not yet come of age.

A thoroughly exasperating reason, but an excellent one. It meant he had never intended to lay claim to the king's throne.

"So, that Blood Warrior is a descendant of House Sunstrider?" King Llane, ruler of Storm City, had never imagined matters would become so complicated. He rubbed his brow. His child had just been born that morning, and the baby's cries had shaken the entire castle. Yet this news had arrived at precisely such a time, forcing him to give up caring for his own child to think about someone else's. "Heavens, I thought elves were the very embodiment of fidelity. I did not expect I had overestimated them. They, too, scatter romantic debts wherever they please."

"All intelligent beings are like that." The giant standing before him said this. He stood an astonishing 2.1 meters tall, with resolute eyes beneath sparse hair and muscles as solid as mountains. He was Anduin Lothar, inheritor of the Arathi bloodline. Wrynn was a branch of Arathi; after the descendants of Arathi lost power, Lothar's ancestors had come to Storm City to seek refuge with their relatives. "Though dishonorable, it is normal."

"Yes, normal. The elves see us as animals, yet what they do now is little different from gnolls." Lothar smiled faintly at his friend's complaint. After a moment, Llane raised his head. "Storm City and Dalaran do not have a good relationship. They are hostile toward Medivh. But Lothar, you have close ties with House Sunstrider. It could not be more suitable to send you."

"I would be delighted."