Carl had been knocked unconscious by the electric shock, and without her control, her water elemental began attacking wildly in the arena.
After the water elemental fired two water bolts, a Spell Shield surrounded it, then contracted to bind it.
An archmage outside the arena had stepped in to clean up the mess.
Turning a protective spell into a binding spell-this archmage was clearly an expert in defensive magic.
No one would have been assigned to handle emergencies at the arena without serious skill in protective spells!
After marveling at this for a moment, Herad dismissed his air elemental and left the arena.
There was no suspense whatsoever in the match that followed.
His opponent simply forfeited.
He had originally thought Carl was strong enough.
He had never expected this fellow, who had kept such a low profile all along, to be even stronger than Carl!
Nobody wanted to end up like Carl, scorched black by electricity and dragged away for treatment.
The best priests were standing by outside the arena, ready to provide healing at any moment.
But the sight of Carl still trembling after treatment was far too intimidating!
Nobody was surprised when Herad won the final without a fight.
It was also the only final for which no bookmaker offered odds.
Not only was the outcome a foregone conclusion, but the gamblers had already been burned badly enough!
Still, the little money they lost now would bring them returns in the future.
Herad was not the sort of high elf who liked to squander money on drinking and debauchery.
Every resource would be put to use, becoming a stepping stone on his climb to the heights of power.
He could make no promises about dealing with Arthas's million-strong undead army when the time came.
But he could still take some effective measures against the orc invasion.
At the award ceremony, Herad accepted the invitation handed to him by Grand Archmage Rommath.
It was his admission letter to the Silvermoon City Royal Academy of Magic.
The Moon Temple did offer intermediate and advanced courses.
But the Royal Academy of Magic, with its comprehensive store of magical knowledge, was clearly better suited to a training fanatic like him.
The Royal Academy of Magic also had the finest facilities on the entire continent, making it the equivalent of Earth's top universities.
When night fell, Theros Dawnblade, the head of the Dawnblade family, booked the largest restaurant in Silvermoon City to celebrate Herad's victory.
Lirath and his band of followers, Sylvanas and the rangers under her command, and every member of the Dawnblade family in Silvermoon City filled both floors of the restaurant.
They had not filled the restaurant because there were too many guests.
With just thirty tables set up, Silvermoon City's largest restaurant was already stretched beyond its capacity.
If the Dawnblade family's estate had not been in Silvermoon Forest, who would have chosen such a tiny venue for a banquet?
Wouldn't it have been better to set up two or three hundred tables in a large, spacious manor?
Of course, for now, that was only wishful thinking.
Once everyone was seated, Theros excitedly delivered his toast.
"Herad took first place in the Spell Tournament, bringing our family an honor we have never known before. In the name of sunlight, everyone, drain your cups!"
The phrase "in the name of sunlight" was usually used when swearing an oath.
It was similar to the Chinese invocation, "Heaven above."
Still, it was reasonably appropriate for this occasion.
After all, winning the tournament and gaining admission to a prestigious academy were certainly two major blessings at once!
Nobody found anything wrong with it.
Most of those present were warriors, knights, or rangers, and they were all outgoing by nature.
Before long, their laughter and cheerful voices filled the restaurant.
Herad, however, could no longer smile.
These bastards kept coming over to toast him.
Most High Elf drinks were fruit beers and wine.
But there were simply too many people coming over to drink with him!
Even drinks with a low alcohol content were overwhelming when he downed them cup after cup!
Besides, taking in so much liquid was a serious test of his bladder's capacity.
Left with no other choice, he actually devised a way to cheat using magic.
He rapidly expelled the water and alcohol from his body.
After drinking so much, it's perfectly normal for me to sweat a little more and smell of alcohol, right?
This seemingly miraculous trick was merely a slight modification of a water-based healing spell.
Water-based healing spells allowed very precise control and could be used to remove viruses and toxins from the body.
Removing alcohol and water was naturally no trouble at all!
His magically achieved ability to drink endlessly without getting drunk stunned everyone.
With Herad's unbeatable tolerance for alcohol, soon nobody dared approach him anymore.
Instead, they began discussing their experiences fighting trolls.
The high elves had enjoyed peace for so long that war felt very distant to their people.
But peace could never have lasted without soldiers quietly making sacrifices.
Most of these warriors, knights, and rangers were veterans who had spent years fighting trolls on the front lines.
Their military careers were often measured in millennia.
Every one of them had some impressive kills to their name.
Of course, the price was the countless scars on their bodies.
Trolls were no easy opponents!
Azeroth was teeming with powerful beings, and trolls were among them.
Those ugly, green-skinned beanpoles were actually humanoid monsters with tall frames, long legs, and powerful muscles.
If their hunched bodies were straightened out, they could rival the tall, imposing tauren in height.
They were strong, ran extremely fast, and could heal their wounds rapidly.
All of those traits met the standards of a powerful warrior.
Apart from their crude-looking equipment, they were almost perfect warriors!
In fact, much of that rustic wooden equipment had been strengthened with voodoo, giving it considerable defensive power.
What looked like a mere wooden shield could block enchanted arrows without any trouble.
And most importantly, trolls bred exceptionally well.
A large enough population meant enormous potential for war.
When the high elves had allied with the humans, they had relied on large numbers of human warriors to hold their formations before they could drive the trolls into the remote mountains.
Now that they were merely suppressing trolls near their own territory, the high elves naturally could not ask the humans for help.
When they faced the trolls head-on themselves, injuries and even deaths were unavoidable!
Over the long years of fighting trolls, no small number of high elves had fallen in battle.
Theros, the Dawnblade family head, was a powerful warrior.
He had lost an eye in the war.
The Windrunner Chieftain had been a powerful ranger, yet he had fallen in battle.
Of course, that had something to do with rangers trusting in their martial skill and heading to the front lines to fight trolls in melee.
For example, Sylvanas's lieutenant, Lor'themar Theron, wore a broadsword at his waist.
Clearly, just like in the game, he was very fond of fighting his enemies up close.
The image of a ranger hacking people down with a huge sword made Herad wince.
But it was an indisputable fact that the high elves lacked melee fighters.
Although High Elf warriors and knights were by no means weak.
There were simply too few of them.
At critical moments, rangers, with their half-baked melee skills, were the only ones who could fill the gap.
As for the rangers' animal companions...
They were either lynxes or various hawks and other birds-not one could take a beating!
Those were all the forest had to offer, so the rangers had no better choices.
These unimpressive creatures were only suitable as scouting tools for Rangers, not as combat companions or makeshift meat shields.
Herad considered buying a batch of high-quality grizzly bears from the dwarves.
Capturing and training the Forest Trolls' war bears would also work.
Some of the rangers were quite interested in his suggestion.
In fact, rangers had tried this before.
But the Forest Trolls' war bears could not be properly tamed.
As for buying them from the dwarves, ordinary high elves rarely had any contact with dwarves.
Since the rangers had never been particularly committed to the idea, it had naturally died before it could get off the ground.
But strengthening the high elves in every possible way was important.
Who knew when the orcs would come to Quel'Thalas to burn, kill, and pillage?
Having made a hefty profit from the Spell Tournament, Herad certainly did not mind spending money to open a trade route.
Before you continue