A crimson velvet carpet stretched from Sunfury Spire to the Sunstrider Court, flanked by two rows of Spellbreakers. These royalist guards, dangerous and deadly to mages, stood ramrod straight, their long, sharp glaives planted upright in their left hands and phoenix shields held before them in their right. Magical light shimmered over their gold-and-red Quel'dorei heritage armor.
Sunfury Spire-the mage tower of Sun King Anasterian-was also the grandest building in all of Silvermoon City. The annual meeting of the Silvermoon Council was held here.
Arnet Sanguinar arrived first. He sat somewhat stiffly at the foot of the long table, waiting for his colleagues.
High Examiner Taer'thelan Bloodwatcher followed close behind. The heads of House Fireblade and House Sunwing arrived together, chatting and laughing as they took seats near the head of the table.
Belovar Saronar teleported into his exclusive seat as speaker and waited with his gaze lowered, seemingly absorbed in contemplation. Only when a booming laugh reached the hall did the six councilors rise, place their left hands over their chests, and bend slightly at the waist, performing the high elven aristocratic salute in unison.
Sun King Anasterian arrived last. Smiling, he gestured for the six councilors to relax, handed the golden Quel'dorei staff symbolizing royal authority to the attendant beside him, and gracefully took his seat.
"Lord Belovar, you may begin."
"As you wish, Your Majesty."
With a solemn expression, Belovar declared the meeting open.
"The Windrunner rangers in Tranquillien have discovered that the Amani Trolls seem to be up to something. I suggest stationing the Sunfire Legion's first and second mage squads at Farstriders Retreat," the head of House Sunfire said first.
The Sun King looked at Belovar with interest, showing no desire to speak.
"Let us vote."
"The human lord of Stratholme intends to open a new port to trade with us. I believe..."
The meeting proceeded uneventfully. The Quel'dorei had enjoyed over four thousand years of peace. Aside from occasional incursions and harassment by their distant relatives, the Trolls, nothing major had happened.
The entire meeting concerned little more than public welfare and trivial squabbles between noble houses over their interests. Anasterian even half-closed his eyes and began resting them.
By dusk, Belovar stood and gave a light cough, waking the Sun King as he prepared to announce the meeting's conclusion.
"I have something interesting to share. Perhaps my colleagues and His Majesty might find it intriguing," Taer'thelan Bloodwatcher said slowly, a mysterious smile on his face.
"Oh? Speak freely, Lord Taer'thelan."
"Well, an academic paper appeared in Magic Daily last year. It was written by Lord Belovar's grandson."
The other five councilors all turned their gazes toward Belovar.
"This Al-er, Mr. Sarona-put forward a truly astonishing argument...
"As you all know, our Reliquary has serious conflicts with the dwarves' Explorers' League. Recently, we developed a new kind of airborne transport equipment, greatly reducing the time and cost of constructing portals. The prototype for this equipment originated in Mr. Sarona's academic work."
"If I remember correctly, Belovar's grandson only just turned seven this year?" The Sun King looked at his old friend of many years in surprise.
"Indeed, Your Majesty. That research was certainly the work of my disappointing grandson...
"At the time, I compiled his findings into a paper and published it in Magic Monthly to spur him to make further progress. I never expected it to help Lord Taer'thelan Bloodwatcher by sheer chance."
"You are far too modest, Lord Speaker. Your grandson possesses extraordinary talent. He is a treasure of the Quel'dorei," Taer'thelan said with a hearty laugh.
"Speaking of the Lord Speaker's grandson, something else comes to mind," Arnet Sanguinar said stiffly.
"I must say, your grandson truly is a genius, especially in his remarkable mastery of alchemical engineering."
Intrigued, the Sun King propped his chin on one hand and watched Baron Sanguinar with bright eyes.
Seemingly encouraged, Arnet Sanguinar continued:
"House Sanguinar's rogues rank at the bottom across the human kingdoms. I must admit that this is a failure on my part," Arnet Sanguinar said somewhat dejectedly.
"The Arcane grants us powerful magical gifts, and inevitably takes away some of our physical talents. This is not your fault, Lord Arnet," Anasterian consoled him.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. I lost my composure. But another recent result of Mr. Aier Salona's research has greatly improved certain disadvantages our rogues face.
"We purchased a batch of kinetic..."
"Boots of Kinetic Energy."
The head of House Fireblade supplied the name from beside him.
"Yes, Boots of Kinetic Energy. These alchemical products have excellent conductivity and can briefly unleash the speed of a lynx without making the slightest sound. They were reportedly developed by studying the unique biological characteristics of springpaw lynxes."
"The Limited Invincible Belt Mr. Sarona developed six months ago is nothing less than a second life for our Fireblade soldiers."
"And there is also..."
Unable to contain his curiosity, the Sun King straightened in his seat.
"What astonishing talent. To achieve so much at such a young age-you have a fine grandson, Belovar," the Sun King marveled, patting the Lord Speaker's shoulder.
"They are all just things that useless grandson of mine cobbled together," Belovar said modestly, struggling to suppress his smile.
"May I meet this future pillar of our kingdom, Lord Belovar?"
"As you wish."
Belovar bowed, then vanished amid ripples of Arcane energy.
Less than five minutes later, a portal's radiance flared, tracing a deep-blue circle in the hall. The councilors looked in admiration at the Lord Speaker returning with his grandson. Such exquisite spatial technique-truly worthy of a Grand Archmage.
Al stood there utterly bewildered, surveying his surroundings. One moment he had been conducting an experiment; the next, his grandfather had hauled him by the scruff of his neck into this unfamiliar place.
"Pay your respects to His Majesty, you little brat," Belovar chided.
"It is quite all right."
The Sun King looked admiringly at the young high elf child before him.
"Come forward, rising star of House Sarona."
"Me?"
Al stared blankly at the Sun King, who appeared about the same age as his grandfather. Only after Belovar kicked him did he stumble forward to stand before Anasterian.
"Could you tell me about your recent research?" The Sun King smiled gently, displaying none of a ruler's imposing authority.
"Which one would you like to hear about?"
Anasterian laughed despite himself. "How about the Limited Invincible Belt House Fireblade purchased? That is its name, yes? What an odd name."
"Now you're talking. I'm wide awake."
Hearing that someone wanted to hear about his academic work, Al excitedly patted the Sun King on the shoulder.
"Insolence!"
Belovar's face darkened as he shouted, but the Sun King waved a hand in pleased satisfaction, gesturing for Al to sit.
"What are you yelling so loudly for?"
Entirely unaware of his situation, Al picked at his ear and sat beside the Sun King, leaving the five councilors below them breaking into cold sweats.
"The materials for the Limited Invincible Belt come from the Darkscale Crawlers of Tranquil Shore at Sunsail Anchorage and the Mana Wyrms of the Western Sanctum..."
"Oh? This belt actually employs biomimetic alchemy? What a brilliant idea. Please continue," Anasterian said thoughtfully, stroking his chin.
"Besides their hard shells and sharp claws, magical beasts like Darkscale Crawlers have another special ability. I named it Thick Shell.
"When threatened, Darkscale Crawlers activate Thick Shell to resist damage. But this ability has a drawback. Although these creatures evolved into magical beasts under the Sunwell's radiance, their energy cores are still too weak...
"The Mana Wyrms near the Western Sanctum solved this problem perfectly with their endlessly rechargeable mana cores. I merely added a few strokes to the runic circuits to minimize their flammable and explosive properties."
"Hmm. How much damage can it withstand?" the Sun King asked thoughtfully.
"Two Fire Blasts from an intermediate mage, or one charged strike from a high-ranking Warrior or ranger."
Clap, clap, clap. Anasterian applauded, leaving Al a little embarrassed.
"I propose..." The Sun King rose, took the golden Quel'dorei staff from the attendant beside him, and declared solemnly:
"That Aier Salona be named an honorary councilor of the Silvermoon Council!"
"Your Majesty, this... this goes against the rules," Belovar hastily protested.
"Let us vote."
Unmoved, the Sun King looked at his old friend with some amusement.
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
"I abstain," Belovar said with mixed feelings.
While the handful of powerful figures capable of deciding the course of all Quel'Thalas cast their votes, Al stared blankly at the virtual screen before him.
[You have obtained the title: Honorary Councilor of the Silvermoon Council. Equipping this title increases reputation gains in Silvermoon City by 20%.] [You have successfully instructed Anasterian Sunstrider.] [Your Darkscale Crawler material has been consumed.] [Your Mana Wyrm material has been consumed.] [Randomly extracting 10% of a random attribute from the target.] [Congratulations! You have obtained 10% of Anasterian Sunstrider's spell power.]
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit! I've hit the jackpot! The jackpot!
Feeling the inexplicable changes within his body, Al broke into a dopey grin and kept chuckling to himself.
"Thank His Majesty, you little brat." Belovar's loving iron fist landed on Al's head, finally waking the high elf youngster from his fantasies.
"Th-thank you, Your Majesty."
Wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth, Al showed signs of slipping right back into his old ways.
"My dear honorary councilor, might I receive firsthand information on your future research?" The Sun King looked at Al expectantly.
"Huh? Oh, no problem. If there's anything Your Majesty doesn't understand, just ask me."
"Insolence!" Belovar wished he could plug his little grandson's mouth.
"Haha! Then it is settled."
Anasterian laughed without the slightest air of superiority, and so the annual meeting of the Silvermoon Council concluded.
"You little brat, what are you grinning about? Hurry up and come home with me."
"Address me as Lord Councilor. Hehehehe."
"You're itching for a beating! Take my Pyroblast!"
"Ah! You old geezer, you have no martial honor!"
"Address me as Grandfather, Lord Speaker!"
Time flew like a white steed flashing past a crack, and three years hurried by.
"Franky, you clumsy idiot! That was an ounce of Sunwell water! I'm going to kill you!"
The growing elf child wore an exaggerated white mage robe-or, more appropriately, a lab coat. Furious, he pointed at the test tube where more than half the golden liquid had evaporated and roared.
"Franky" was Al's laboratory assistant, a semi-alchemical mechanical construct and one of his few masterpieces over the past three years.
Archmage Rommath had once praised him highly: "Franky's birth is one small step for Silvermoon City, one giant leap for the rise of the Arcane."
Standing on a chair, the short, stocky Al furiously jabbed at the intelligent construct's central control core. Franky's three-meter height was simply too tall for a ten-year-old Quel'dorei youngster.
After scolding Franky, who wore a pitifully human expression, Al put away the purified Sunwell water with an aching heart.
"Humanoid approaching detected-identity authenticated-welcome, Lord Speaker Belovar."
A crisp synthetic voice echoed through the mage tower, and Belovar abruptly teleported into the laboratory.
"How many times have I told you, you little brat? Can't you replace 'Lord Speaker' with 'Grandfather'?"
Belovar looked at Al reproachfully, then broke into a smile.
"Of course, Grandfather."
Without even looking up, Al continued tidying the chaotic workbench.
"Have you thought it over? Falthrien Academy has already paid this old man a fifth visit."
"I feel my professional expertise is still insufficient. My understanding of the Arcane is nowhere near the level required of a professor."
"You little brat..."
Belovar smiled helplessly, looking fondly at his little grandson.
"If I'm not mistaken, the mana fluctuations coming from your body have already reached the level of a high-ranking mage, haven't they?"
"The number of circles doesn't prove anything."
Al stopped what he was doing and looked earnestly at his grandfather.
Belovar: That was rather a humblebrag.
In his previous life, the great scientist Einstein had proposed a very interesting hypothesis.
Research indicated that an ordinary, normal person used three to five percent of their brain's capacity, {taking the maximum value of five percent}. If the brain could be developed to one hundred percent, humans would become supreme "gods."
If the brain could continue developing, its host would inevitably gain incredible abilities. After Einstein's death, a pathologist at the hospital where he had been treated secretly took his brain for research, slicing it up and sending samples to scholars in various countries.
The scientists' research revealed that Einstein's brain development had reached an astonishing thirteen percent, a terrifying figure.
In layman's terms, this creator of wisdom, this union of the ordinary and the noble, humanity's greatest scientist Einstein, possessed 2.6 times the intelligence of an ordinary person.
Nine years had passed since Al came to this world. If one opened his magic notebook, one would find it already densely filled with as many as twenty-three research topics.
This meant that twenty-three entries in the Monster Compendium had also been activated. His brain development had reached an astonishing twenty-eight percent, and he had obtained his first legendary skill-[Hyperthymesia].
[Hyperthymesia]: Precisely reproduces everything experienced through the host's five senses within the memory palace.
Everything Al saw was stored in his memory palace like audiovisual records, then digested, absorbed, and made his own at a speed ordinary people would struggle to comprehend.
Anytime and anywhere, he could retrieve three-dimensional images of everything he had experienced, clear enough to show the reflection of trees in a bird's eyes or every drop in a torrential downpour.
Simply put, he had a photographic memory. This made his biological research flow all the more smoothly, and an unexpected bonus followed: an increase in his cultivation realm.
Going from mage apprentice to a fifth-circle high-ranking mage was a lengthy process even for the Quel'dorei, who called themselves children of magic. Advancing through each stage could take a hundred years, yet Al had needed a mere three.
Combined with what he had fleeced from the Sun King, it was no exaggeration to say that Al already possessed some ability to protect himself in this world that was about to undergo earthshaking changes.
"Fine. Since Falthrien has invited me so sincerely, I suppose I'll reluctantly spend a few days as a professor."
"That isn't like you, you little brat. Has your latest research project hit a bottleneck?" Belovar asked with an odd expression.
"Let's say it has. When are we leaving?" Al asked as he directed Franky to pack the experimental equipment into a spatial backpack.
With my current strength, it's time to begin a new plan.