My Things (I Hope Everyone Can Understand This Chapter)

Hey friend, come sit here, there's no one here! Let me gulp down a few mouthfuls. Haha... I'm used to saying that. After all, it's rare to run into an Elf in Ironforge.

Don't look at me like that. I'm an Elf too, but I think I'm the slovenly Elf you've ever seen. Look at my belly; everyone says I look like a little Dwarf girl.

I won't blame them. Why? Because I can't beat them, haha...!

Here... here you go, have a sip to warm yourself up. This awful weather in Kaz'Modan has been going on for ages.

I've seen blizzards before; I arrived in Kaz'Modan right when a blizzard struck.

Why did I come here? There are many reasons, such as the abundance of alcohol here, or perhaps, the lively atmosphere.

A quiet atmosphere? I don't like it. I don't like it now, and I've forgotten how it used to be... But ultimately, the real reason I came here is to escape the Witherer.

Who is the Witherer? Looks like I'll have to tell you my story before I came to Ironforge, but on the condition that you buy me a drink.

"Boss, another shot of strong liquor." This is a good girl; as the saying goes, "She's got a lot of stories to tell, and she won't leave until she's drunk," haha... My friend is paying!

This wine is good, really good stuff. It really has been... quite a few years.

I had just returned from a patrol in the Eastern Plaguelands, on the path from Lordaeron to Quel'Thalas.

Yes! Arthas invaded my homeland via this very road. Later, Regent Alleria established a stronghold there.

Our commander is Hoxbyr, the "King of Ranger," humph! That guy is nothing but a clown with a hollow title. He gave himself that title. "King of Ranger"? You can imagine how arrogant he is.

Even so, he is still our superior.

Although Kael'thas Sunstrider has announced the renaming of Quel'dorei to Sin'dorei, a small minority are unwilling to relinquish their former identity. High Elf blood still flows in their veins, and they remember the glory of Silvermoon City.

Hoxbyr was such an Elf; otherwise, he wouldn't have proclaimed himself "King of Ranger."

In fact, the Elf stationed here hadn't received any news from Silvermoon City for a long time. Hoxbyr guessed that Regent Alleria Windrunner had forgotten about them, but the guy didn't seem to mind at all, because it meant he could act with impunity here.

Normally, the conflicts in the Eastern Kingdoms mainly involve the Crimson Crusade and the Scourge Undead. We, situated in a dangerous place, remain uncontested, our mission being to prevent other Undead from entering the kingdom. However, the problem is that the Ghostlands are equally perilous, and Alleria has yet to reclaim its lost territory. Therefore, Hoxbyr believes that even if they don't stop the Scourge, there won't be too much of a problem.

That fool liked to groom himself in front of the mirror. His hair was black, and his chainmail was like bird feathers. Two black short swords hung at his sides, and a pine-needle-colored cloak covered his back. He looked quite ordinary, but his bow was the only thing that stood out. It was because of his weapon that the other Elf avoided him. It was a longbow made of a special material, from the bones of some creature; it looked heavy, but was actually very light. If that were all, I would at most think Hoxbyr had unusual tastes, but this bow exuded an aura of death, imbued with dark magic.

No one knows how the "King of Ranger" obtained the bow, but Hoxbyr would tell them his story whenever it was mentioned.

He would even imagine someone standing in front of him and listening when he was bored.

Yes, he's a madman, who can argue with that?

We always made fun of him behind his back.

But he paid no heed to the rumors, believing he deserved the honor of "King of Ranger," just as the bow was worthy of him—that's what he said.

How did he get this bow?

I asked him once... no, I should say for the last time, and he happily shared his story with me. Why? I remember he had successfully flirted with a girl that day, and seemed to be in a pretty good mood.

That was the last time I heard him go on and on... It was a nightmare!

He said he had personally experienced a battle, a terrible battle. Many people came to that battle. Stormwind City and Quel'Thalas sent a significant number of people, many important figures.

Who are they? You'd better listen carefully.

Mathias Shaw, the spymaster of Stormwind City, and Lady Regent Alleria.

No! The Blood Elf hadn't joined the Horde yet at that time. I left Quel'Thalas long before that, otherwise... I should be in prison now.

Where was I? Sorry, could you give me a hint? This drink is a bit strong.

Oh yes! They teamed up and went on a hunt. Hoxbyr was on that hunt too. I thought it must have been a dangerous operation. But he said it was just about killing one person, oh no! And two dogs.

Who is this unlucky fellow? Ha! It's Alleria's little man, a human as pathetic as Arthas, named Nathanos.

No, no! That was a dangerous guy. He put up a fierce fight and injured many people. Luckily, Alleria's Ranger was somewhat useful and managed to subdue the guy's two dogs before the battle began; otherwise, the casualties would have been even greater.

Was Hoxbyr injured? He claimed that Nathanos could never have wounded him. Not only was Alleria's man defeated, but my commander also took his bow and arrows. But I know he's lying.

You might think the story is over, but it's not! Hoxbyr watched as the others finally dragged Nathanos into his house and then set the wood on fire. This was necessary, of course, to prevent him from rising again...

The story is over! The story of the "King of Ranger" has ended, but my story has just begun! I was moved by his vivid language and was praising the officer's bravery, and he seemed to enjoy it too.

It was already dark outside, and only a few points of light could be seen. Those weren't stars, but towers—the stronghold of the Order of the Silver Hand. Thanks to them, the Scourge wouldn't pose a threat to Hoxbyr's "rule" for the time being.

But disaster struck unexpectedly...

Have you ever heard the sound of the wind? No! No!! It's not the sound of a blizzard. It's...

... Okay, okay, I won't scare your customers, boss.

Let's continue. The sound of the wind I'm referring to isn't natural; it's a ghost—no, that's not right either. It's real.

Shortly after Hoxbyr finished telling his story, something was wrong, really wrong. The night was eerily quiet; though the Eastern Plaguelands were a deathly wasteland, the occasional barking of Plaguehound and sounds of fighting could be heard.

Yes, the Crimson Crusade are fanatical. But what I saw was far more terrifying than just the red.

No matter what, it couldn't be that quiet anymore. Hoxbyr sensed something was wrong and shouted outside, "Guards!"

I guess you've already guessed it—no one responded, not even a footstep!

I said they might be asleep, but Hoxbyr decided to investigate. As soon as he stepped out of the house, he saw a crouching figure in the moonlight, drawing his sword from something.

Hoxbyr must have been drunk. He yelled, "Working so late? Is it fresh venison? It's way too late! By tomorrow morning... it won't be able to run away! Did you hear me?"

He said that, and then the figure seemed to actually obey his command, and then... the two red dots turned around, and only then did I realize that he had been facing away from us the whole time.

He was an Undead, otherwise his eyes wouldn't be so evil.

The moonlight illuminated his sword... It was covered in blood. There were also the corpses of guards, their heads severed! And much more... I don't want to describe it; I only know that I was the only survivor.

Just then, the figure spoke, his voice like that of someone from the abyss, more terrifying than Arthas's.

"I remember what you look like!" he said, a single sentence that drove Hoxbyr mad.

No, impossible! Nathanos? Aren't you dead? You were burned to ashes!

Oh, right! You were there too. You're the one who burned down my house.

It wasn't me, I'm not lying to you, it was Alleria's idea... Step back, I told you to step back!

Hoxbyr turned around and immediately pushed me away. He had no weapon in his hand at the time; the guy had left his sword and bow in the most conspicuous place in the room.

I bumped into the cabinet, my head was spinning, and I was already a little out of it. I could only hear sounds. First, a gust of wind blew in that made me shiver, and then it sounded like a sword cutting through the air.

Hoxbyr seemed to be saying: Where are you? By the Sunwell, you damned Undead! Taste my blade!

Another burst of fighting sounds followed, and it seemed Hoxbyr had gained the upper hand. I heard him laughing loudly, "Ha! Ha ha... you've learned your lesson, haven't you! Go back to your..."

These were the last four words he spoke. Clearly, he didn't finish. I heard something roll over, and I struggled to open my eyes. Do you know what I saw? A head, a bloody head— Hoxbyr!

Then I heard a sentence: "One less prey on the list!"

I was so scared I peed my pants, really! But I don't think it's shameful, at least I wasn't scared to death.

The Undead that had beheaded Hoxbyr took down the bow and arrow from the wall. Yes, it was Hoxbyr's bone bow, but now it had a new master.

He said: This was originally mine.

My heart is filled with agreement with him. I'll let him say whatever he wants, as long as it's not my life.

He actually let me go, which was unbelievable. It wasn't because I was faking my death; he knew I was still alive because he had spoken to me as well.

He picked up one of the files scattered on the corner table. He asked me, "Latest update? Unusual Undead activity? Location: Darrowshire?"

I opened my eyes and found him staring at me. I hurriedly nodded and told him that what the document said was true.

Suddenly, his body began to slowly dissipate, turning into black mist. I finally understood where the sound of the wind came from.

He lunged at me, and I screamed for mercy, but nothing happened. Only a few seconds passed, but it felt like a year.

Where the bow and arrows used to be on the wall, a curse was written in blood, "The killer the Witherer!"

That's the end of the story.

I survived, thank God! Everyone else was dead, horribly. I couldn't take it, nobody could. I ran away. I don't even know how I survived. The Eastern Plaguelands are full of killers, the Wetlands are dangerous, and Kaz'Modan is freezing. But I still survived. I came here to drown my sorrows, to use alcohol to ease my fear, and it worked really well.

Why did he let me go? I really don't know. Maybe he wanted to leave me alive so someone else could tell this story? If that's the case, then he's achieved his goal!

By the way, what's your name, beautiful little girl?

Oh? Vanas'hil? What a nice name!

This chapter does not take place in a timeline that follows the previous chapter, but the content is connected. The author has decided to give the protagonist a new ability, which has already been written in this chapter.