Modera was the only female member of Dalaran's Council of Six. Before the sun, An'she, had risen, the diligent Archmage had already begun her morning meditation.
Success was no accident. Talent and diligence were its foundations. That was what this clever girl believed, and she put that belief into practice.
But wave after wave of noise outside interrupted her rigorous practice. Irritated, she opened the window, only to be startled by the scene below her tower.
On ordinary mornings, only a scattering of enchanted brooms and mops cleaned Dalaran's streets.
Today, however, the entire street was packed with people, a dark mass pressed shoulder to shoulder.
Most were humans, with a small number of gnomes and high elves who had followed Kael'thas Sunstrider here for a temporary stay.
Leading them was a low-ranking gnome mage. Ordinarily, in Dalaran's hierarchy of contempt, gnome mages had never been considered worthy of notice.
The fact that Dalaran had never had a single gnome councilor in the thousands of years since its founding said it all. This human-dominated city-state of magic was deeply exclusionary.
Even toward the high elves who had taught them magic, humans maintained their wariness and a bone-deep arrogance. Yes, arrogance. Compared with the elves' superficial arrogance, the upper ranks of the human kingdoms were worse still.
Yet today, all that deeply ingrained racism seemed to have vanished.
The crowd willingly followed the gnome mage, gradually forming something like a torrent.
"What... exactly... are these people doing?"
Modera watched the noisy crowd below in bewilderment until a shrill voice rang through the entire street.
"When mages are wise, Dalaran is wise!"
"When mages are wise, Dalaran is wise!"
Elves, humans, and gnomes alike strained their necks, their faces flushed as they loudly repeated Orvido's words.
"When mages prosper, Dalaran prospers!"
"When mages prosper, Dalaran prospers!"
"When mages are strong, Dalaran is strong!"
"When mages are free, Dalaran is free!"
"When mages advance, Dalaran advances!"
At first, the crowd's voices were ragged and uneven, but gradually, as Orvido repeated the slogans a second time, the entire procession's spirit changed.
Veins bulged on the low-ranking mages' faces. Every one of them roared, and anger shone in every pair of eyes.
They cried out against injustice. They cried out for freedom. Dust shook loose from the shops' eaves, and deafening slogans echoed above the entire city.
Millhouse Manastorm gazed at his father in admiration. In his eyes, his dad had always been a mercenary sort, someone who could set aside a mage's dignity and commit academic fraud to support his family.
Although that did not diminish his father in his eyes, the towering, heroic figure he remembered from childhood had long since disappeared under life's grinding hardships.
But after that elven prince met his father, his dad's whole spirit changed. He no longer meekly submitted or compromised at every turn.
Only today, as he followed his dad, waving a flag and shouting, did he discover that this stooped old gnome, who bore life's burdens for him, had never changed.
His dad was still the hero who could do anything.
Millhouse Manastorm clenched his teeth, holding back the tears threatening to spill as he vigorously waved his crude homemade flag.
Dad said true heroes dare to face life's bleakness head-on. I'm a man now. I'll never cry like a coward again.
Millhouse Manastorm quickly wiped his tears away and raised the little flag high.
Though the flag was small and its fragile twig pole wobbled precariously, no one in the crowd mocked him. Instead, they looked at the brave little gnome encouragingly.
For the flag bore words Mentor Al had once spoken. After many days of Lord Kael'thas's teaching, the people had finally compiled those words into a book and embraced them as their guiding principles.
Kael'thas Sunstrider: If Mentor knew so many people were following in your footsteps and becoming great fighters for the revolution, you would surely be deeply gratified.
Al: Goddammit, I might as well leave Azeroth.
Modera stared dumbfounded at the scene in the street. She knew that if this continued, it would spiral completely out of control, and order throughout Dalaran would be destroyed.
"I must stop them!"
Modera hurriedly changed her clothes, but just as she prepared to teleport, she inexplicably glanced at the street seething with people.
She saw resolute eyes and heard their shattering roars. Modera stumbled back in panic and accidentally fell onto the edge of the bed behind her.
Yes, she was afraid. This young, powerful Archmage who occupied such a lofty position was afraid. She felt a fear she had not known in a long time.
Hurriedly getting to her feet, Modera took a deep breath.
"I must inform the chairman immediately. Yes! This farce cannot be allowed to continue..."
Modera finally regained her usual composure, but what she might not even have noticed was that the hand smoothing her hair was still trembling slightly...
Antonidas's brows were tightly knitted, his weathered face seeming to have aged a little more.
In the round mirror, the crowd surged. At first, there had only been a few hundred people.
But as the city awakened, more and more people gathered. Streets were blocked and guards scattered. If this massive march was not stopped, it would surely become a chaotic brawl.
"How long?"
Antonidas waved a hand, extinguishing the magical eye cast within the round mirror, then turned toward Modera, who sat stiffly upright.
"A... about... almost three hours, Chairman..."
Modera spoke haltingly, seemingly still dazed by the shock.
"And you? Any thoughts?"
Antonidas then looked toward the other three at the table.
Archmage Karlain parted his lips, about to speak, but Runeweaver, beside him, gave his sleeve an almost imperceptible tug. He looked at his longtime friend, who was signaling with his eyes, with a complicated expression, then finally fell silent.
"No opinions? Then I shall exercise my authority to pass this with my vote alone."
Having said that, Antonidas looked toward the frost-faced Kael'thas.
The prince badly wanted to say something, but he knew that in this political climate, whatever he said would be feeble and useless. Remaining silent was what he should do now.
"Modera, lead the Kirin Tor battle mages and disperse the crowd. If anyone resists... arrest them all. Throw them into the Violet Hold to cool their heads, and make them understand... where they stand."
With that, Antonidas gave Kael'thas a meaningful look.
The Kirin Tor battle mages mobilized swiftly, and the march was suppressed in short order. Though some resisted, most of the crowd were low-ranking mages. How could they contend with the Kirin Tor battle mages, every one of whom was intermediate-ranked?
But what frightened and confused Modera was that the moment the mage troops arrived, the several hundred original marchers all stopped what they were doing and simply stared straight at her.
Even when the battle mages punched and kicked them, they offered no resistance, merely crouching obediently with their hands over their heads.
But their eyes frightened Modera. The almost tangible mockery and anger stabbed into the girl's heart like blades, leaving her speechless when she had intended to deliver a lecture.
Orvido, Millhouse Manastorm, and their companions were fortunate enough to escape arrest. Only the scattered people who joined later were taken to the Violet Hold by Modera.
But they were all released within a few days. This farce, which Antonidas regarded as a joke, seemed to have ended with a whimper after its grand beginning...
Several more days passed.
Today was Archmage Ansirem Runeweaver's turn on duty.
He walked Dalaran's streets in boredom. Since the march, many unaffiliated mages and adventurers had left Dalaran, leaving the normally bustling streets somewhat deserted.
Two guards approached from the city gate, escorting a male dwarf toward the Violet Citadel. The dwarf wore fire-resistant leather armor made from Dimetrodon hide and looked to be doing reasonably well for himself.
Runeweaver looked away, his expression somewhat gloomy. Another adventurer returning from Kalimdor. What had they done wrong?
They had done nothing wrong. No, perhaps they had. The one thing they should never have done was threaten the rule of this city's upper ranks.
The Archmage thought this with a sneer, then became overwhelmed with shame. Was he not one of those upper ranks himself?
Whether his conscience was troubling him or it was something else, Runeweaver found himself walking toward the dwarf.
"Lord Ansirem, our respects!"
Seeing the Archmage approach, the two guards hurriedly straightened and saluted.
"Jeno, I recognize you. A fine young man."
Runeweaver smiled and patted the guard's shoulder. The approachable gesture left the young man rather overwhelmed by the honor.
"Was this dwarf selling contraband? Aren't you going the wrong way? The Violet Hold is over there."
The Archmage asked in puzzlement.
"Lord Ansirem, this dwarf claims he came to sell Jinkela 2.0. We thought something was suspicious and were going to report it to the chairman."
Runeweaver's pupils contracted, and his heart trembled wildly.
After a long while, under the two guards' puzzled gazes, the Archmage drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled. A smile appeared on his face as he spoke gently to them:
"Such keen observation. You deserve a reward. However, the chairman has been overwhelmed with work lately. Leave this little matter to me.
"Go to the treasury and collect an extra month's pay, both of you. If any other adventurers claim to be selling Jinkela 2.0, throw them straight into prison. Do not trouble the other councilors."
Hearing Runeweaver's words, the two guards hurriedly agreed in delight and handed the dwarf, whose hands were bound, over to the Archmage.
"So this Jinkela 2.0 can propagate Bloodpetals indefinitely?"
Runeweaver studied the pale golden potion in his hand with a complicated expression. Beside him, the dwarf stood trembling, not daring to move a muscle. Apparently, he had just learned how formidable this important man was.
After a long silence, the Archmage sighed deeply and detained the dwarf for the time being. He had something very important to do next. At a crossroads in his life, the Archmage had already made the wrong choice once. He did not want to keep making it.
"Runeweaver! Have you gone mad? This will ruin your future!"
Karlain stared fearfully at the pale golden potion on the table. His voice trembled slightly as he clutched his friend's collar in apparent disbelief.
"I've made my choice. This time, I won't compromise again."
With the weight lifted from his heart, the Archmage looked calm, but his eyes revealed his resolve and relief.
"No... I can't."
Karlain covered his forehead in anguish.
"Do you want to be a coward for a lifetime, or a hero for a second?"
Runeweaver stood, his silhouette stretching long in the flickering candlelight.
"I... I don't want to lose all this."
Karlain looked ashamed, unable to find anything else to say.
"Magic... has a price, but the road to magic, the path to the arcane, should not be controlled by a select few.
"When we enter the halls of truth, everything we once pursued is destined to become nothing more than passing clouds...
"Only knowledge, truth, and freedom should be our epitaph. I don't want my gravestone to read 'Here lies such-and-such official' after I die. That money-tainted title disgusts me."
Runeweaver quietly closed the door. Tears already covered Karlain's thin face. Watching that figure slowly disappear through the narrowing doorway, he remained unsettled for a long time.
Time passed slowly.
"Fuck! I've spent my whole life sitting on the fence and playing second fiddle. Not this time. Fuck the Council of Six, and fuck Antonidas!"
Karlain growled, clutching his hair. He had finally made up his mind.
A few days later, Bloodpetals began appearing in Dalaran's urban districts. Antonidas paid them little mind. In a city so large, a few were bound to slip through the net.
But after a few more days, the situation did not fade away. Instead, it grew worse.
Thus, Antonidas personally eradicated every Bloodpetal he could find in the city.
That day, the chairman was leisurely enjoying a rare afternoon tea. He had no classes at Dalaran Academy that day, and he had finished all the paperwork on his desk early that morning. He had intended to give his mind a proper rest...
"Chairman, something terrible has happened..."
Modera rushed into Antonidas's office.
"What is it, young lady? Is your boyfriend coming to Dalaran to see you?"
Antonidas smiled, making a rare joke.
"You... you must... please look... outside!"
Modera looked terrified, her words stumbling.
Antonidas also realized something was wrong and hurriedly teleported outside the Violet Citadel.
Antonidas seemed to be surrounded by an ocean of Bloodpetals. These creatures densely filled every street. Every household had its doors shut tight, and not a soul could be seen in the city.
Crunch, crunch.
His teeth ground together. This political creature, who ordinarily revealed neither joy nor anger, finally shed his mask.
Antonidas's beard and hair bristled with fury as he raised his staff and cast spells at the sea of Bloodpetals below.
Six enormous water elementals appeared in the city. They mercilessly swung their thick arms of flowing water, flattening swathes of flowers with just a few blows.
Antonidas waved his staff in midair, pouring Flamestrike onto the city's streets as though it cost him nothing.
As a great Archmage, he possessed incomparably precise control. Though the city appeared to teeter amid the interwoven water and fire, it suffered no fundamental damage.
A few unlucky souls' houses accidentally caught fire, but the enormous summoned water elementals swiftly extinguished the flames.
"This is a blatant conspiracy. Kael'thas, do you have anything else to say?"
Having finished "cleaning" the entire city, the chairman sat in the council chamber and looked darkly at Kael'thas, the prince of Quel'Thalas.
Kael'thas did not reply. He merely nodded toward Runeweaver and Karlain, seated diagonally across from him.
Time returned to several days earlier.
The prince, who had been preparing to rest, received the two Archmages, Runeweaver and Karlain.
After a secret discussion, the two former neutrals firmly sided with Prince Kael'thas-or rather, with Mentor Al and with truth-and planned everything.
During their shifts, Runeweaver and Karlain secretly transported out the Bloodpetals that had not yet been destroyed, along with both versions of Jinkela, and distributed them to the low-ranking mages who had marched.
These revolutionary fighters, who were already showing signs of banding together for mutual support, formed a great organization that would one day influence the world's balance of power-the Brotherhood of Al-to repay Mentor Al for guiding them and bringing them freedom and truth.
Their spiritual mentor, Mr. Al, far away on the western continent: Friends, you really shouldn't be calling it the Brotherhood.
Next came the Brotherhood members' favorite part: letting it rot.
Using Jinkela 2.0 and the Bloodpetals' rapid propagation, they filled all of Dalaran within a couple of days.
Thanks to the Brotherhood members' advance warning to ordinary residents and compensation from the wealthy prince, the people living in the Lower City's crude houses had left Dalaran early, planning to return once the storm had passed.
The buildings in the mage district were sturdier, and residents suffered no losses after shutting their doors and windows during the Bloodpetal infestation.
Runeweaver and Karlain rose resolutely and went to stand behind Kael'thas.
"Fine! Just fine! I never imagined it. I never imagined that the Archmages we humans trained would actually side with the elves!"
Antonidas laughed in his fury. The rage in his eyes seemed ready to burn the two of them to ashes, but the two standing behind the prince stared back at him, without their usual fear or retreat.
"We stand only on the side of truth. Your racism and bureaucratic ways bring shame upon Dalaran, Lord Chairman."
Kael'thas sat at ease in his seat, softly uttering words that stunned everyone present.
"This is Dalaran! A human kingdom of magic!"
Antonidas finally lost control. He slammed a hand on the table in anger and rose to his feet.
"Are you trying to expel us? We have a full three votes."
Kael'thas chuckled as well. He stood and looked Antonidas straight in the eye, meeting him head-on without giving an inch.
"Phew... What do you want, Prince of Quel'Thalas?"
Antonidas stressed every word, doing his utmost to keep his trembling hands from touching the wand at his waist.
Though he was the chairman of the Council of Six, he knew that the elf before him already possessed the strength to rival him-or rather, the right to speak with him as an equal.
"We only want what is rightfully ours. Every one of us has the right to soar freely along the path of the arcane. I believe you can fulfill this small request of mine, Lord Chairman."
"One more thing."
Kael'thas stood in the doorway of the council chamber.
"Mentor Al once said something I found very reasonable. If you insist on continuing down this headstrong path, you will surely drown in the vast ocean of the people. Do not say you were not warned."
The next day, Dalaran announced that Jinkela and Bloodpetals would no longer be classified as contraband, and that citizens who had suffered losses would be compensated with an equivalent amount of gold.
The adventurers from Kalimdor would be released and compensated for their losses, and their right to trade freely would be restored...
All of Dalaran was shaken. The people cheered and rejoiced, grateful to Al and the Brotherhood, and designated this day as the annual Freedom Day.
Antonidas wore a dark expression. He had lost this political contest utterly.
He sat with his hands clasped in a corner beyond the reach of the sunlight:
"That young Al, devising strategies behind the scenes and deciding victories a thousand miles away... To think he was so terrifying. This old man underestimated him..."
Meanwhile, Hemet was having a miserable time of it...
PS: Posting first, editing later. A big 5,500-character chapter! I said this chapter would wrap up the Dalaran storyline, and one chapter was all it took. This author keeps his word {manually inserted smirk}. Some readers might not enjoy side stories all that much, but what I want to say is that the Dalaran arc serves as setup and is very important for driving the plot forward. Rather than those one-dimensional characters, I still want to portray some supporting characters of flesh and blood. I don't know whether you esteemed readers will like it, but in any case, I'm very fond of the tragic character Kael'thas and want to give him a good ending. The world I answer with song should not kiss me with pain. If the world kisses me with pain, then I will definitely kiss it back.
At midnight tonight, December 5, this book will receive a recommendation in the Popular Serials section, and at 2 p.m. it will receive a mid-tier recommendation among Popular Ongoing Serials. I hope you esteemed readers will give it plenty of support. Don't let the Monster Compendium drown in the vast ocean of the masses~