"That's impossible!"
Kael'thas slammed both hands down on the desk, abandoning his usual reserved composure as he protested sharply.
"Silence!"
Antonidas lowered his eyelids, avoiding the disbelief in the prince's eyes.
His Highness realized he had lost his composure and sat down resentfully, but he continued staring at the deeply calculating chairman, as though hoping to read something in his expression.
"Let us vote."
Before his words had faded, two voices rang out in succession.
"I second it."
"I second it."
Krasus and Modera, the only female council member, spoke first. An amused look appeared on the former's face, while the latter sighed as though a weight had lifted from her shoulders.
The goateed Archmage Karlain struggled for a long time. He painfully rubbed what little hair he had left and said with difficulty:
"This... this, ah, I second it."
"You... all of you, you've turned your backs on the way of the arcane!"
Kael'thas finally lost control. His eyes blazed with almost tangible fury as he stood once more and pointed at the three who had just declared their positions, heedless of etiquette.
"Silence!"
Antonidas still looked like an old monk deep in meditation, but this time his tone grew sterner.
"The motion passes, but I would still like to ask..."
Antonidas opened his eyes, his piercing gaze sweeping toward the young mage in the corner.
"Runeweaver, what is your decision?"
Kael'thas turned his head, a glimmer of hope appearing on his despairing face.
"I... I second it."
Ansirem Runeweaver, a young mage brimming with vitality and ambition, had nevertheless bowed beneath reality. He dared not meet the prince's eyes, knowing those pupils would reflect nothing but his own cowardice.
"Five votes in favor. Kael'thas, we'll count yours as an abstention."
Antonidas stood, tucked the documents on the desk beneath his arm, and prepared to teleport away.
"Why?"
The light dimmed in Kael'thas's eyes. He no longer sharply questioned those present, merely staring at Antonidas as he prepared to leave.
"For the stability of Dalaran and the magical kingdom of Quel'Thalas, to keep the blue dragons from finding more excuses to target us. Sacrificing the interests of a few to save the majority-isn't that only natural?
Young prince, if your father were here, he would agree..."
The low voice gradually faded with the glow of the teleportation spell. Those in the Violet Citadel looked toward the prince sitting listlessly in his chair, their expressions complicated.
The flashes of teleportation flickered one after another, leaving Kael'thas alone.
"This isn't right. This is wrong..."
"No, this is right. This is politics, not a game..."
Kael'thas frantically rubbed his smooth blond hair as two ideals clashed violently in his mind.
One was his defense of his own class and understanding of politics as the kingdom's crown prince; the other was the great ideal of benefiting all living beings that he upheld as a scholar.
"That's right. What would Master Al do?"
Dazzling light suddenly burst from Kael'thas's dim eyes as he began carefully recalling Al's few expressed views.
"Let some people get rich first? No. Strive to be a good son of the people and a good official of the nation? Not that either. Arms broad enough for horses to race on, fists sturdy enough for a man to stand on? Which unscrupulous hack wrote that? He's ruined Master Al's image, the bastard!"
At that moment, a handsome fellow at the Ayou Breeding Farm in Quel'Thalas sneezed.
Kainar Flamesun: Who's calling me handsome behind my back?
Kael'thas slapped his cheeks in frustration, forcing himself to concentrate.
"The iron fist of socialism crushes all monsters and demons. Wherever there is oppression, there is resistance. Ah, Lord Al not only possesses world-shaping talent, but to think he's also a revolutionary fighter!"
Kael'thas finally remembered something from a magazine featuring an exclusive interview with Al. At the time, he had been utterly bewildered and understood none of it, but in keeping with his belief that even Master Al's shit contained artistic talent, he had memorized every last word.
"Socialism advocates treating the entire nation as a whole, with the state owning and controlling products, capital, land, assets, and so forth, and their management and distribution based on the public interest..."
His Highness closed his eyes, silently reciting Master Al's published remarks with a devout expression.
"True insight! True insight! Merely reciting it silently soothes my restless heart. Mentor Al, I understand now!"
The master had become a mentor. Never in his wildest dreams would Aier Salona have imagined that another mighty general had somehow joined his fan club.
Kael'thas's gaze hardened with resolve, as though a fire burned within his heart. He slapped the table and stood.
"Mentor! I will carry on fighting in accordance with your ideals!"
Al: I'm not, I didn't, don't make things up! Saying things like that will get us 404'd.
A few days later.
The ban on Bloodpetals and Jinkela and the arrests of adventurers continued to stir up Dalaran.
Millhouse Manastorm was a low-ranking second-circle mage. His dad supported the family in Dalaran by writing magical papers of little consequence.
Thus, Millhouse worked very hard to study and advance along the way of the arcane. Just half a month earlier, several adventurers had barged into Dalaran, claiming to possess miraculous remedies that could improve a mage's strength.
Millhouse had not believed them at first, but after several mage apprentices at the academy spent their entire family fortunes to purchase these "miraculous remedies," their progress in cultivation became unstoppable.
Even Little Tom, whom their instructor mocked as a muggle, had become a first-circle mage a few days earlier.
Millhouse was envious and worked even harder, but the classmates who had bought Bloodpetals and Jinkela still surpassed him one after another, leaving him deeply dejected.
"My little Millhouse, look what your dad brought you!"
A shrill laugh came from the doorway, and Orvido's face, which bore a seventy-percent resemblance to Millhouse's, came into the little gnome's view.
"Hey... Dad."
Millhouse greeted him listlessly, then remained slumped over the table, continuing the homework his school had assigned.
Orvido jumped up, nimbly settling his short body onto the tall stool beside the table.
"What's wrong, my dear Millhouse? Why so listless?"
"It's nothing, Dad..."
Millhouse knew his family had no money. He could not afford the "miraculous remedies" those bloodsucking adventurers sold.
"Ha! Look at this!"
His dad produced an iron cage nearly as large as his own body from behind his back and placed it before little Millhouse.
"Wow! That's a Bloodpetal! Dad, how did you get it?"
The little gnome leaped three feet into the air and danced, waving his arms and legs.
"And this."
Grinning, Orvido took a bottle of pale golden potion from his pocket.
"Heavens, it's Jinkela!"
Millhouse could no longer contain his excitement. He flung his arms around his dad, shouting excitedly.
A long while later, the two chatted amid the thick mist released by the Bloodpetal. Though this was far too extravagant for an impoverished household of two, today was a day worth celebrating, and neither minded.
"Dad... tell me the truth. Where did you get the money?"
Once his initial excitement passed, Millhouse began to grow suspicious. These "miraculous remedies" were not cheap. Those bloodsuckers charged three hundred gold coins a set and would not sell them separately. His dad had some ability, but how could he possibly come up with so much money?
"My little Millhouse has actually learned to worry about his dad."
Orvido affectionately ruffled the little gnome's hair. He wanted to change the subject, but his son's serious gaze stopped him.
"All right, all right. I knew I couldn't hide it from you. I sold the Staff of Jordan..."
"What? Have you gone mad, Dad?"
Before Orvido could finish, Millhouse's shrill voice interrupted him.
"That was the Staff of Jordan Grandpa left behind! You actually sold it?!"
Orvido patted his son's back with gratification. He said nothing, merely letting out a faint sigh.
A moment later...
"Dad, sob... I'll definitely... sob, definitely become, sob... a high-ranking mage like Grandpa!"
Tears and snot dripped down his young face. Millhouse sobbed so hard he could barely speak as he hugged Orvido tightly.
"Good... good boy."
Orvido's eyes reddened too. This thoughtful son of his always made him feel that life was worthwhile.
"Official Kirin Tor business! Bystanders, clear out."
The door shattered with a crack as it was kicked in, and a group of enforcers in gray battle robes charged into the tiny room.
"Kirin Tor battle mages on official duty. Caught red-handed with the evidence. We're taking these illicit goods."
The lead mage, whose hood bore a violet insignia, roughly shoved aside Orvido when he tried to stop them and snatched the Bloodpetal and Jinkela from the table.
"No! You can't do this!"
Orvido clung desperately to the battle mage's ankle.
"Get away, you lowly gnome!"
The battle mage kicked Orvido two meters away. Beneath the little gnome's despairing gaze, the enforcers swaggered off.
"D-Dad..."
Millhouse scrambled to help his dad up. The little gnome was terrified.
"Cough... cough, cough. I'm all right, son."
Orvido wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and spoke with difficulty.
"Dad, why? Why would they do this?!"
Tears mingled with the dust on the floor, smearing Millhouse's young face. Orvido reached out to wipe it, only to make it dirtier.
"Son, remember this. The world... has always been this way."
PS: The Dalaran storyline ends next chapter. These supporting characters are important! Important! Important! Important things must be said three times. Many of you dear readers may want to see the protagonist, but please bear with me for one more chapter, because the portrayal of these supporting characters affects this book's main storyline going forward.
One more thing: this book has received a mid-tier recommendation in Popular Serials and a recommendation in the Popular Serials section. Though I don't know what sort of recommendations the editor gave me, or whether they're good, as a newcomer, I still have to be grateful to the editor for giving me this opportunity.
I don't have any grand ambitions. I only want more of you who enjoy Western fantasy, Warcraft, and Azeroth to see this book. So let those monthly tickets and recommendation votes come pouring in even harder! Those of you who haven't added it to your favorites, please do. Your support directly affects this book's performance. Also, these asides are rather long; after the book goes premium, I'll move them into the author's notes, so you won't be charged extra for them.
My deepest thanks~