Dick lowered his head. Of course, the hunter had not told him any of this, but Dick, who knew how history unfolded, naturally knew that Kel'Thuzad was actually near Lordaeron City now, hiding in a small town called Brill. Once Arthas's influence reached him, however, he would soon return to Andorhal.
The appearance of Kel'Thuzad, who had been missing for nearly a year, was actually only the first entrance in the grand drama of Arthas's fall and Lordaeron's destruction. They worked together flawlessly, but they had never imagined that a small fry who knew all of this inside out would appear in this world.
Dick understood very well how dangerous it was to attract the attention of the powerful figures behind this drama, but that was precisely what made it interesting, wasn't it? The taste of changing history with his own hands-what an exhilarating taste! Watching Arthas begin to waver, Dick felt as though every cell in his body were singing, leaving him a little giddy.
"Actually, Prince, before the hunter died, he revealed another piece of information."
Dick closed his eyes, seemingly shaken by this news himself. In truth, he was only concealing the delight in his eyes.
"Speak!"
Arthas was in a foul mood, so his tone grew stern as well.
"The hunter's infiltration of the Cult of the Damned had been going smoothly. The only reason he was discovered was that there was a traitor on our side! He betrayed the hunter, and he betrayed the Empire's interests!"
Bang!
This time, it was Arthas's expression that changed dramatically.
He rose from his chair, his face filled with disbelief. He stared at Dick, trying to see whether the man had gone mad, daring to utter such outrageous words as a commoner.
Only the highest-ranking official in each major city knew about the Royal Knights the Royal Family had stationed there. Since Dick claimed that the hunter had been betrayed, that meant Stratholme's highest-ranking official had already turned traitor.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Baron Rivendare has already joined forces with the Cult of the Damned. The hunter specifically said that they had assembled a vast Undead Burning Legion near Zul'Mashar, with monsters called ghouls and a terrifying war machine called an abomination!"
Dick finished speaking with his eyes closed. Arthas pointed at him and shouted like a roaring lion,
"Shut your mouth! You commoner, how dare you insult a noble! If not for your service to the Empire, I should have cut off your head the instant those venomous lies left your mouth!"
Dick said nothing. He was as silent as a corpse, but Arthas grew increasingly agitated, finally even drawing his warhammer-the warhammer blessed by his mentor, the paladin Uther the Lightbringer-to teach Dick a lesson.
But Jaina, who was equally alarmed, stopped him. Dick did not know what the two said, but Arthas glared at him and stormed out, slamming the door. Jaina gave Dick a complicated look, then opened the door and left as well.
Silence fell over the cramped room again. A few minutes later, Dick stretched his arms and lay flat on the hard plank bed, making contented rumbling noises as he murmured indistinctly,
"Oh yeah... the show's beginning."
Bang!
Arthas slammed an angry fist onto the desk. The quill bounced, dragging an ugly mark across the fine stationery and ruining the letter the prince had only half finished. Yet the more he thought about Dick's words, the angrier he became.
But only Arthas himself knew that a trace of fear mingled with that anger. The Royal Knights were war orphans his father had adopted as children, and the Royal Family paid all their living and educational expenses.
After decades of training, the Royal Knights would never betray the Royal Family. If those really were the hunter's words to Dick, then there was a better-than-even chance that Baron Rivendare's betrayal was real.
But he was a noble! Even hearing that an archmage had been involved in the plague had not frightened Arthas this much. If nobles were involved, however, that changed the nature of the affair entirely. A noble with real power like Rivendare might hold only the title of baron, but the territory under his control encompassed more than half of Eastweald.
He could easily raise an undead army large enough to threaten the Royal Family's rule!
Yes, undead. After arriving in Andorhal, Arthas had made a point of seeing the plague victims quarantined outside its walls. Walking corpses, an evil aura, no sense of pain, blindly pursuing anything alive-the Undead Burning Legion was nothing short of evil beings returned from hell!
Arthas tried to calm himself, but the harder he tried, the more Dick's words resurfaced in his mind. Finally, the prince irritably kicked over a chair, barely managing to vent the negative emotions inside him.
"Whew... Falric!"
Arthas called out, and his fully armed guard at the door strode in and bowed behind him. He was not only the captain of Arthas's guards, but also his most trusted comrade from the Second War. He would strive to carry out anything Arthas asked of him.
"My prince, is there anything you need me to do?"
"Falric, I need you to personally take our best scouts and trace where the grain shipped from Stratholme to Andorhal has gone. But don't alert anyone. Also, have Marwyn travel to Stratholme in disguise. Within half a month, I want every piece of information about Baron Rivendare! Even his affairs with noblewomen-I want to know everything!"
Falric nodded silently and left the makeshift office with swift decisiveness.
Arthas watched Falric leave and closed his eyes like a sleeping lion. No one knew what he was thinking, but one thing was certain: the prince was in a terrible mood.
Meanwhile, in Jaina's room, the young lady mage was fiddling with an intricate, mysterious device. It looked like an odd combination of a large crystal and a mass of complicated engineering gears.
It took Jaina five minutes of tinkering to get it fully ready. She carefully placed it on the table and took the short staff from her waist. After charging the staff with energy, she gently touched its tip, surging with purple light, to the surface of the large crystal.
The next moment, the complicated gears began clacking. Before long, an image resembling a projection appeared above the strange device.
On the other side of the rather blurry image, an elderly man with white hair and a white beard could be seen busy with something. Judging by his clothing, he was probably a mage like Jaina.
"Good day, Mentor!"
Jaina greeted the elderly man politely. Judging by her manner, he was none other than the previously mentioned leader of Dalaran, Archmage Antonidas.
"Oh, Jaina. Have you made any progress with the plague?"
Antonidas turned around, his tone very much like that of an old man doting on a younger generation. But if Dick had been there, his attention would certainly have been caught at first glance by those eyes, bright as stars in the sky. They hardly seemed like eyes a human could possess.
At Antonidas's question, Jaina looked a little tense. Rather than answering directly, she asked gravely,
"Mentor, please tell me, has Kel'Thuzad really gone missing?"
The smile on Antonidas's face froze at once. He drew a deep breath, and deep parallel furrows creased his aged brow.
"Why are you asking about that? Jaina, as I recall, you and Kel'Thuzad have never gotten along particularly well."
"I've received some information. Someone said... said that Kel'Thuzad created this plague with some renegade mages! He also founded a cult called the Cult of the Damned. Mentor, do you think that's possible?"
Jaina looked at Antonidas with a very serious gaze. She hoped her all-capable mentor would give her an opinion contrary to Dick's. Although she did not get along well with Kel'Thuzad, and that perpetually gloomy middle-aged man hardly ever spoke to her, he had, after all, been her first companion on the path of magic.
Antonidas fell silent for several minutes. Having quit smoking nearly thirty years ago, he suddenly picked up a pipe from the desk and put it to his lips. He drew in a deep breath of smoke.
"If it were anyone else... I could tell you with absolute certainty that it was impossible! But if it's Kel'Thuzad... before he disappeared, he was obsessed with researching the evil warlock spells obtained from the orcs' Shadow Council. I warned him repeatedly, and he promised me he would stop. But two months later, he sold his property and even gave up his position on the Council of Six, disappearing from Dalaran..."
"Whew..."
Antonidas blew a few smoke rings, then suddenly said to Jaina,
"Come back, Jaina. This is no longer something you can get involved in. I'll have Rhonin take over. If it really is Kel'Thuzad, then you may well be no match for him anymore."
"No, I refuse! I'll keep investigating! Goodbye, Mentor!"
Jaina, who had always been an obedient girl, was unusually forceful this time. She reached out and switched off the device, glanced out the window in some confusion, then quickly thought again of Dick's slightly odd expression that morning.
The young lady mage gritted her teeth, packed up her potions and scrolls, pushed open the door, and headed for Dick's room.
Elsewhere, near Lordaeron's capital, beneath brilliant sunshine, a gloomy-faced middle-aged man directed workers as they erected strange platforms and mysterious devices in the center of a farm preparing for harvest. Beside the busy worksite, three iron cauldrons, each large enough to hold a black bear, had been properly set on the ground.
The plump owner in charge of the farm stood beside the middle-aged man, making ingratiating faces as he asked uneasily,
"Mr. Kel'Thuzad, can these containers really give my farm a bumper harvest this year?"
The middle-aged man glanced at the farmer, gave a stiff smile, and pointed to the emblem on his chest. It was a mage's insignia depicting stars and a moon, the very emblem of Dalaran, the city of mages.
"In the name of the power of magic, please trust me, Mr. Agamand. With these steam cauldrons, all you need to do each day is mix the magic powder I give you and those special grains with one-third water, then steam them for an hour. I can guarantee that by June this year, your farm's yield will double."
The middle-aged man spoke gravely to the owner of Agamand Mills and this farm,
"This is Dalaran's most advanced magical research achievement, and it needs to be tested within Lordaeron's borders first. If you don't believe me, you can send someone to look at the other farms in Andorhal and Brill. Every farm there has started using these steam cauldrons this year."
"I believe you! I do! How could I possibly doubt a master mage?"
Mr. Agamand took out a handkerchief and wiped his greasy face. He gazed expectantly at the steam cauldrons being assembled, then stole a glance at the expressionless middle-aged man and thought,
These mages are generous for once, actually giving me three steam cauldrons for free. Heh, whether they work or not, I'll start boiling them tomorrow. Boiling them for one hour a day will double the yield? Then why shouldn't I boil them a little longer?
A dozen or so minutes later, Mr. Agamand sniffed the uniquely fragrant magic powder. Although the green mist was a little frightening when it boiled, the smell really was pleasant. Good stuff! It really was good stuff!
He took a deep, contented breath, then turned and spotted Kel'Thuzad seated in a carriage. He hurriedly called out,
"Ah, Master Kel'Thuzad, won't you stay for lunch? The bread from Agamand Mills is famous throughout all of Tirisfal!"
Kel'Thuzad waved to Mr. Agamand.
"No, no! Thank you for your hospitality, but I must hurry back to Andorhal. My favorite grand drama is about to begin. I've been waiting for almost a year, and I can hardly wait any longer!"
Watching Kel'Thuzad depart, Mr. Agamand curled his lip disdainfully. These mages really had addled their brains with books. Where couldn't you watch a play? Could a place like Andorhal compare with Lordaeron's royal grand theater? Hah, country bumpkin.
The farmer turned to look at the hired farmhands squatting beside the constantly rattling steam cauldrons, contentedly breathing in the fragrance, and anger welled up in him. He walked over and kicked them.
"Get back to work! All three platforms must be finished today. This magic powder needs to burn for one hour-no, three hours every day! If we really get a bumper harvest this year, I'll consider showing you great mercy and waiving a fifth of your rent. Now get to work!"