Master Al's Clout

The fervor on the black-robed mages' faces stood in stark contrast to Antonidas's ashen expression.

To think you quietly built up such an enormous force right under my nose. You truly cannot be underestimated. Let me see what other trump cards you have, Aier Salona.

Antonidas's heart bled. He fought to suppress his tremendous fury, and even his usually inscrutable face was on the verge of cracking. The veins bulging on his forehead and his tightly clenched hands proved it all.

Al looked utterly bewildered. At a loss, he turned to Kael'thas.

Judging by Master's expression, he must really love my surprise.

Kael'thas smugly snorted at Hemet, who looked thoroughly disgruntled, then leaned over to whisper in the boy's ear.

"Mr... Al, that's what happened, and that's where things stand."

"I went traveling in Kalimdor for less than a year, and now there's an enormous organization like this? And guys, Brotherhood really isn't a name you should be using. Light of Al would be better."

Kael'thas: Wonderful! It seems Master has acknowledged my artistic accomplishments.

The elven boy was just about to dismiss the crowd when something seemed to occur to him. His raised hand suddenly froze, then slowly lowered.

A dark filter fell over his crystal-blue eyes. Within Hyperthymesia's bullet time, his brain worked furiously. With forty percent of his brain's potential unlocked, his already quick mind raced.

One thousandth of a second later.

This... might be an opportunity?

The boy's furrowed brows relaxed, and a smile appeared on his handsome face, adding approachability to his already maxed-out charm.

He walked up to the gnome kneeling on one knee, smiled gently, and slowly helped him up.

"Your name is... Orvido?" Al thought he had just heard that name from Kael'thas.

Orvido raised his head excitedly. Looking at the elven boy so close before him, he choked up, unable to speak. The figure who had haunted his thoughts and dreams dispelled the fog before him...

He was like a beam of light, shining into his heart, and his, and his-the hearts of every Brotherhood member-bringing renewed life to their parched souls.

With this living legend right before his eyes, how could he possibly calm down?

Without waiting for the gnome to react, Al slowly walked over to the little gnome beside him, picked up the trembling child, and vigorously ruffled his fluffy mushroom cut.

"You must be Millhouse Manastorm? I've heard of you. You're such a strong, brave child."

He... he's simply too dazzling.

The little gnome stared in disbelief at the person before him, who seemed to glow.

Only after Al and his companions slowly disappeared from view did he come to his senses.

"D-Dad, was that the Godfather?"

The little gnome looked exhilarated, still dazed by the shock Al had just given him.

"No, that wasn't the Godfather..."

The Brotherhood members looked at the old gnome in confusion.

"Before meeting Lord Al, I harbored some dark thoughts. I wondered whether Prince Kael'thas might be deceiving us...

"But when I saw him, I realized I was wrong. I must repent for those blasphemous thoughts. He is the true monument on our path of the arcane. He is... light!"

The old gnome spoke with tears brimming in his eyes. Far from making the Brotherhood's mages uncomfortable, his shrill voice set their blood boiling, and the crowd began to cheer.

"Al!"

"Godfather!"

"Light of Arcane!"

Antonidas walked behind Al with his head bowed as Krasus led the group onward. Among nobles, such behavior was highly discourteous and ill-mannered, but everyone in the party was too preoccupied with their own thoughts to pay attention.

I thought these were merely minor ailments. I never imagined they had already become a grave mistake. Has the time for a reckoning truly come?

The chairman wrestled with himself, his expression contorted. The boy's back perfectly concealed his well-maintained face, keeping his expression out of sight.

Krasus: After all these long years, is the once-unchanging path of the arcane truly about to undergo a transformation? What an interesting mortal. I should record this in my diary.

Modera: The boss seems troubled?

The turncoats Ansirem and Karlain: Our Brotherhood of Al is fucking awesome.

Kael'thas: Lord Al and I are fucking awesome.

Hemet: Lord Al and I are fucking awesome.

"Mr. Chairman..."

"Rest assured, Master Al. We in Dalaran will take proper care of your vehicle."

"Uh, I wasn't..."

Al awkwardly rubbed his nose. Antonidas's hasty answer surprised him somewhat, but he remained patient and continued asking:

"Mr. Chairman, I'd like to..."

"Your accommodations have been arranged. Please honor us with your presence at the banquet I am hosting for you at eight this evening."

"I just..."

"Then please excuse me, Master Al..."

Antonidas disregarded everyone else's gazes. He feared that if he stayed any longer, he would lose control of his emotions. A violet light flashed, and the Grand Archmage vanished.

Al: Goddammit, I just wanted to ask where the bathroom was.

"Modera, as a council member, surely you wouldn't bend the law out of personal favoritism?"

Kael'thas first reached out leisurely to touch the fragments of magic lingering in the air, then turned a mocking look on Modera.

Modera remained silent, her face dark.

"Oh, Krasus, my memory isn't very good. Under Article 137 of the Dalaran Mage Prohibition, what's the punishment for using Teleport in the inner city?"

"A fine of five hundred gold coins for the first offense, two thousand for the second, and three months' imprisonment in Dalaran Prison for the third..."

Krasus spoke calmly, as though he had little interest in the matter.

"Oh, Modera, His Excellency Antonidas is getting on in years, and his memory might not be very good either. As the only female council member, I believe you have a duty to remind him of this."

Al: Did these six people make twelve group chats? This is way too much involution. City folk play too many games. I want to go back to the countryside.