Investiture

There was no doubt about it. On one hand, the high elves were targeting him. If a half-elf could receive a royal investiture, then what if another half-elf came along? Would Silvermoon City eventually end up filled with half-elves?

On the other hand, the high elves led by the royal family were trying to win him over. Guardians had always been passed down within the Council of Tirisfal, and such immense power was enough to make everyone place their bets. If they succeeded, the rewards would be unimaginable.

How should he put it? One could not say the high elves were wrong. Their society had been like this for thousands of years, and these had always been their beliefs. They had grown too accustomed to it all. They believed everything revolved around Quel'Thalas, that without Quel'Thalas, no one else was anything. That arrogance ingrained in their bones could not be concealed.

Perhaps only Arthas's sword could shatter their sweet dreams. Only after Arthas slaughtered ninety percent of the high elves would they understand that the world had long since changed.

Lister returned to Dalaran. To commend his achievements, Dalaran decided to give him a tiny port west of Valgan's Field. It was a long-abandoned little harbor, truly tiny, with perhaps only a few dozen dilapidated thatched huts. According to Tarsis, a severe magical accident had once occurred here, leading to its abandonment. The Council of Kirin Tor had handed this miserable place to Lister with the deliberate intention of making him continue investing more in Dalaran.

Lister and his attendants rode swaying little boats over the broad, shimmering lake. A thin mist, like a gauzy veil, shrouded the shores of Shimmering Lake. The slightly frigid air left him in no mood to be happy. Dalaran's move was a promotion in name and a demotion in substance. Lister had solved a huge problem for them, and the entire human world knew it. They had to reward him.

But the troublemaking bastards of the Council of Tirisfal were also furious. Antonidas finally had an excuse to strike at those idle old lords, and they had used a few little tricks of their own. For example, they had driven Lister to this backwater, an abandoned ferry crossing. Well, wasn't he on good terms with Uther? Then he could go keep him company.

This place did not seem peaceful either, Lister thought. He slowly stepped onto the damp, cold hardwood pier. The wet lake water surged and continuously slapped against the dock. Looking over the nearly empty pier, there was almost nothing there apart from the little boat he had bought.

No people, no houses, no food. The only thing there was the howling of gnolls echoing through the forest. Korthira drew his bow and loosed an arrow into the brush. A shrill cry and the chaos that followed finally gave way to silence.

"It'll be normal soon enough." Lister watched Karel enter the brush and, a moment later, drag back a dead gnoll. From the gnoll's tattered leather pouch, Lister still managed to find a few things.

"Some simple herbs." Lister picked up the dew-covered plants and identified them one by one. "Earthroot, Bruiseweed, Peacebloom, Silverleaf, and Mageroyal. Silverpine Forest has everything. These fellows are pretty good at identifying herbs. They know eating these helps wounds heal."

Korthira nodded and looked at Lister. "The herbs in Eversong Woods are very limited. There is basically only Bloodthistle."

"It's because of the environment." Lister put a Peacebloom stem into his mouth and slowly chewed it. The sweet scent of the plant made him take a deep breath as he looked over the vast forest. "Silverpine Forest is an enormous treasure trove. They drove me out here. Good. Very good. I'll make them choke on their surprise."

Lister held out his hand. Just as Korthira reached for the short sword at his waist, arcane power had already gathered in Lister's hand, swiftly forming a hard ice blade. He walked into the brush, cut down a shrub, sharpened it in a few quick strokes, and planted it in the ground.

Then Lister unhesitatingly cut off the gnoll's head and mounted it on the wooden stake as a warning. The elves raised their brows. This was no different from what trolls did, but they had to admit that cowardly bullies like gnolls responded well to this sort of thing.

Salorian kicked the body into the water to feed the fish.

Bards sang the praises of Silverpine Forest. The forest was vast, vibrant with life, and stretched along the entire western coast of the Lordaeron Continent. Simple and beautiful, it had countless ballads sung each year about its abundance and wonders.

It was said that its rivers carried golden sand, while magical gems were washed along streams into Lake Lordamere, waiting for lucky people to dredge them up. All manner of wondrous magical plants flourished here as well; picking a handful at random was said to be worth a heap of gold coins.

But clearly, aside from a few human settlements, Silverpine Forest was not so wonderful. The most dangerous monsters in this evergreen forest were gnolls. These huge, cruel humanoid beasts loved robbing lone travelers of their possessions, then roasting or eating their victims raw after cutting them into pieces. Some gnolls even hid in the graveyard of The Sepulcher, waiting for someone to be buried before digging up the corpse that night to eat it.

Sunlight filtered through the layers of swaying pines and fell across everyone. Uther had hired more than twenty villagers from Valgan's Field to help build the houses. Lister was sitting bare-chested on a tree stump. A hibernating snake had been particularly unlucky. Its den had been destroyed, and it had only just slithered out in a daze when an ice dagger pierced its head. Lister was skinning it, intending to make it dinner.

The bugs here were especially fat. Korthira caught a plump wood grub from a stump, removed its head, and stuffed it into his mouth right in front of Karel. "Fatter than the ones in Eversong Woods."

Karel shrugged. "I think it would taste better roasted."

"Magic really is convenient." Uther looked at the dozens of large trees around them, each cut off at the roots by repeated blasts of Cone of Cold. "It would take us at least an hour to fell a tree that tall."

"And it's dangerous, too." Lister handed the skinned hide to a child who had come to play with his father. Liadrin took the snake meat and, looking thoroughly disgusted, put it over the fire. He screamed in horror, "Don't roast it like that! It'll burn!"

"This girl is older than you, but she knows less than you do." Salorian went over to help her. Lister looked at Uther. "How are things in Valgan's Field?"

"Very fulfilling. These farmers are honest, decent people, and they're all willing to help me." Uther helped Lister lift a log. "We've made quite a bit of money lately, and it isn't as if we haven't paid taxes to those people. So why were you exiled here? This place is so poor it has nothing but latrines."

"You think this place is terrible?" Lister and Uther placed the log into the dug-out foundation, and the workers beside them immediately got to work. The two continued carrying logs. "It's a wonderful place."

"You really think so?" Lister continued moving logs. His understanding of architecture was limited, but that did not stop him from pointing at the blueprints and offering his opinions. Salorian was thoroughly irritated, but he still had to explain things to him. "My friend?"

Lister went on, "According to the laws of the various kingdoms—oh dear, poor little field mouse, I crushed its head." The young man lifted his foot from the red-and-white mess and continued as he walked. "A knight's fief is roughly two to three hundred acres. Dalaran's arrangement is also very clear. Around five hundred hectares of land near this ruined ferry crossing belong to me."

"The territory of a baron." Uther was astonished. "A baron with actual power, completely unlike those people in the royal capital who do nothing but boast and scrape by. You could even grant fiefs to five knights. If such a large area of land were developed, you could even support a standing force of fifty soldiers."

Five hundred hectares was equivalent to 7,500 mu of land. Silverpine Forest had fertile soil, and each mu planted with potatoes could yield about six hundred jin a year, enough to feed one adult for a year. In other words, Lister's territory could support 7,500 people. At six mu per family, that came to 1,250 households. Supporting one knight—the knight's family, attendants, horses, armor, and daily expenses—required roughly 250 households. That was how Uther reached the conclusion that Lister could grant fiefs to five knights.

The people in the royal capital who boasted and scraped by referred to those unfortunate souls who had lost their lands. Their kings had stripped them of their fiefs without taking away their titles, leaving them to scheme and hustle everywhere in hopes of gaining wealth again.

"I'm already a duke of Silvermoon City. I just haven't designed my own coat of arms or chosen a family name." Lister looked at Uther. "Do you need me to invest you?"

"Uh, can you?" Uther hesitated. "I mean, you don't have a family name yet, and you haven't received recognition from the nobility."

"At least Dalaran recognizes me." Lister scratched his head. "Teacher Antonidas made me a baron, and the Council of Kirin Tor agreed to it."

Uther did not hesitate again. He set down the heavy log and dropped to one knee. Lister accepted the sword Korthira handed him and looked at his attendants. "You all come too."

Salorian did not need Lister to invest him. He was already the high elves' captain of the royal guard, a count personally invested by Anasterian. He watched Lister, Uther, Korthira, Falon, Solanar, and Karel with a solemn expression. Everyone stopped working, and the surroundings fell silent.

Only Melis muttered softly that the ceremony was far too simple, but Salorian signaled for her to be quiet with his eyes.

"You are not swearing to me. You are swearing to the Alliance." Lister's words startled the five of them. "Uther, you have already devoted yourself wholeheartedly to the Holy Light. You need not be loyal to me."

Gratitude appeared in Uther's azure eyes. Then the five swore together, "I swear: humility, integrity, compassion, bravery, justice, sacrifice, honor, and soul!"

The only difference was the soul. Uther offered his soul to the Holy Light, while the other four offered theirs to Lister. But there was no difference. Lister was not so narrow-minded.

"As a baron of Dalaran, I invest Uther." His sword tapped Uther's right shoulder. Lister then looked at the other four high elves. "In the name of Duke Nalorath, I invest you four. I share with you the right to use this land and to enjoy the food it provides. I hope you will uphold your oath."

The blade tapped each of their shoulders in turn. When it was done, the five rose to their feet, and the people around them burst into cheers.