Blackmoore's Banquet

"Was there anything else, Rhode?" Hearthglen asked.

"Well, if I may ask a rather presumptuous question, where were you this morning?" Rhode said expressionlessly.

"Why ask that all of a sudden?" Hearthglen looked a little puzzled, but answered anyway. "I was discussing some matters with Lord Blackmoore, then I came back."

The balance between them seemed to have shifted. Rhode's presence now completely overpowered Hearthglen's.

"Well, here's the thing. Five people were murdered in an alley near here this morning." Rhode stared into Hearthglen's eyes. "After examining the scene, I believe a formal mage was responsible."

This was an investigative tactic.

Lay the matter out plainly, then watch how the suspect reacted.

A culprit would often behave unusually, and those little clues could help solve the case.

At the same time, however, it could also anger the other person.

Rhode was indeed deliberately trying to provoke the man before him. Some people only revealed their true nature when they were angry, and they might give away a few clues as well.

Sure enough, Hearthglen immediately widened his eyes and shouted at Rhode, "Are you saying you suspect me?!"

There were only a handful of formal mages, so he immediately understood what Rhode meant.

"Of course not. I was just asking." Rhode still wore that teasing smile, and his words had a peculiar ring to them.

Hearthglen grew even angrier. He slapped the table. "I put up with your rudeness, but now you're making baseless accusations! I haven't done anything to offend you, have I?"

Even if Rhode had two powerful backers, Hearthglen could no longer worry about that.

After all, this was an accusation of murder.

"If you didn't kill anyone, why are you so nervous? Easy, easy." Rhode waved a hand, still looking utterly unruffled.

In truth, he was observing Hearthglen while provoking him further.

Sure enough, Hearthglen began to lose control of his emotions, and a cold light gathered in his hand.

Was he getting ready to cast Frostbolt?

Better strike first.

Rhode gathered his mana, and a giant blue hand appeared between them to guard against Hearthglen's Frostbolt.

Two more giant hands appeared above their heads, seemingly ready to slam down at any moment.

Rhode's presence was terrifying now, and Hearthglen could feel his mana surge like towering, crashing waves.

Hearthglen swallowed and hurriedly said, "I mean no harm."

The cold light in his hand vanished.

In truth, if they actually fought, even if Rhode won, it would not be an easy victory.

But Hearthglen had already convinced himself that Rhode was beyond the rank of magus. He had lost in confidence and presence before the fight even began, and naturally did not dare take him head-on.

"You may leave." Rhode fixed him with an unblinking stare.

Hearthglen's face was thunderous.

He was furious, anger churning in his chest.

Yet there was nothing he could do.

He could only stand, leave the room, and head upstairs to his own quarters.

Rhode kept watching his retreating back until he disappeared beyond the doorway.

He had forced Hearthglen to gather his power so he could compare the mana surge given off during his casting with the mana residue at the murder scene.

He found that Hearthglen's power was stronger. The residue at the crime scene felt no stronger than that of a novice magic user.

Was it really not him?

That was why Rhode had let Hearthglen leave for now.

But he could not be certain.

After all, it was difficult for a low-ranking mage to pass himself off as a high-ranking mage, since his power had a lower ceiling.

A high-ranking mage, however, could control his mana output and pretend to be a low-ranking mage to mislead others.

After all, apart from magic apprentices and apprentice magic users, the city currently had only two intermediate mages and one high magic user.

There was not a single novice magic user!

Surely it couldn't be Audric?

That friendly mage did not look like a bad person at all, and he had no reason to murder a family of commoners.

Rhode thought for a while but could make no headway. He could only shake his head and return to his studies.

Night fell.

Unlike modern cities, which remained brightly lit at night, even large cities in Azeroth were dark across most districts after sundown.

Besides the curfew, maintaining the city's lighting was a considerable expense, so the lamps were usually left unlit.

Only the central Castle remained ablaze with light.

A banquet was being held there.

It was a banquet hosted by Aedelas Blackmoore, lord of Durnholde Keep, in honor of Hearthglen, vice president of the local magic branch. Naturally, many nobles had also been invited.

Blackmoore was a powerfully built, middle-aged man with black hair and a black beard.

He was an outstanding military commander. Besides his considerable fighting ability, he was intelligent and ambitious, with the courage to combine those qualities and put them into action.

Those qualities had carried him from lieutenant to lieutenant general after the war, earning him authority over all the orc internment camps and the immense power that came with it.

Together with his existing noble status, this had naturally made him the man in charge of Durnholde Keep-its lord.

But his ambition would not let him settle for that.

He therefore needed to win more people over. A mage like Hearthglen, who was a noble, possessed magical power, and had powerful backing, was naturally an honored guest.

The banquet hall was filled with good cheer.

The maids weaving through the crowd each carried a glass tray bearing several glasses of red or yellow fruit wine.

The finely dressed nobles occasionally motioned for a maid to stop, then took a glass and sipped, putting on an expression of enjoyment before resuming their boasts to those around them, punctuated by bursts of laughter.

Blackmoore and Hearthglen sat on a second-floor balcony, looking down at the crowd in the banquet hall.

"You mean this mage named Rhode has a rather unusual background?" Blackmoore asked after a sip of fruit wine.

"Yes. As I just said, he has no respect whatsoever for the nobility." Hearthglen still looked shaken.

"Interesting." Blackmoore took another sip. "By your account, he has noble status, but lacks a noble soul."

"You could say that. Perhaps his status is so exalted that he looks down on me... on us."

"That still needs to be investigated and confirmed." Blackmoore shook his head. "As far as I know, King Terenas has only two children: his daughter, Calia, and his son, Arthas. Arthas is a paladin. He joined the Order of the Silver Hand last year, or the year before, and I've met him."

"Perhaps he's some other prince or duke..."

"That's why we need to investigate. But whatever his noble status may be, if he is Antonidas's apprentice, then he certainly deserves our attention."

"Yes, that's what worries me too." Hearthglen nodded. "Antonidas suddenly sent his apprentice here to serve as a vice president. I really don't know what he's up to."

Blackmoore gently swirled his wineglass. "If you can't figure it out, don't bother."

Hearthglen asked curiously, "My lord, you mean..."

"Why not simply make him one of us?" Blackmoore chuckled. "Young men like him can't resist much temptation. Money? Women? More spells? There must be something he wants."

Hearthglen froze.

He fell silent for a long time, then abruptly tipped his head back and drained his fruit wine. His movements and expression were no longer elegant; instead, he looked rather tense.

He understood what Blackmoore meant.

But he had another concern.

He was a mage, and Rhode was a mage too-a more powerful one at that.

If they brought Rhode over to their side, wouldn't he still threaten Hearthglen's position?

Blackmoore smiled. He was an observant man; otherwise, he would never have reached his current position.

"Rest assured, Hearthglen. We only intend to use him." Blackmoore patted Hearthglen's shoulder. "Given our long-standing partnership, and our relationship with Kel'Thuzad, I would never treat you unfairly. In a few days, I'll personally invite him over for a chat."

Hearthglen nodded slightly, then smiled as well. This time, his smile was much happier.

With Blackmoore's assurance, he naturally felt far more at ease.

"Let's relax a little." With that, Blackmoore turned and called into the room, "Taretha, come out and have a few drinks with Hearthglen!"