It was a very successful performance. The entirely new format, the vivid and engrossing descriptions, and the heartfelt, compelling delivery drew in many people. The crowd in the square kept growing and soon exceeded a thousand.
A thousand people-for Lordaeron, with a total population of just over two hundred thousand, this was an utterly unimaginable scale. No previous performance could have attracted so many spectators, because plays were always performed in assembly halls or dedicated theaters. Even a full house could not hold this many people.
No one pushed their way inward. The specially inscribed sound-amplifying magic array was enough to carry Don Quixote's voice throughout the square and even beyond it.
Even the royal guards responsible for patrols and security stopped in their tracks.
For the young guards, it was a history they yearned for. But for some of the veterans, it was the brutal war they had lived through themselves, an epic destined to be remembered for all time!
"Yes! That's exactly how it was! I was in Southshore that day. I saw Marshal Lothar with my own eyes! That pitch-black fog and the ships of refugees breaking through it-I still can't forget them! My son was killed by Orcs!" Tears streamed down an old fisherman's face.
He came from Southshore and had once been a fisherman who toiled from dawn until dark. He had personally witnessed that historic moment and seen Lothar and the current king of Stormwind City, Varian Wrynn, with his own eyes. He took pride in that.
"Anduin Lothar!"
At that moment, the name appeared in everyone's mind.
The Lion of Azeroth was a hero in everyone's heart! He was the pride of all humanity!
Don Quixote's performance continued. He had already lost himself in it completely.
In fact, he had portrayed that history more than once, but previously he had done so through plays, magic tricks, and street performances. Never before had he felt as he did today: as though he was not performing, but had truly stepped into that history.
Many people felt the same way.
Just then, a young Paladin arrived at the square.
She was a female half-elf, born of a High Elf and a human. She looked only sixteen or seventeen, but half-elves lived long lives and matured slowly. Her actual age had already passed twenty.
Hearing Don Quixote's voice and that history, she froze.
Although, given her age, she had no particularly deep feelings about that history, it could still stir certain memories-memories that were not so pleasant.
My father also took part in and witnessed that history. But before it happened, he had already left Mother and me... that irresponsible man!
A deep, resonant voice startled her out of her thoughts. "Fenna! Don't linger here. We must see His Majesty immediately! Arthas has gone too far! He has forsaken the Holy Light! He'll destroy all of Lordaeron!"
This was a Paladin in his forties. Though the dust of his journey had obscured his armor's gleam, wherever he stood was filled with light.
He had a name everyone respected: Uther the Lightbringer.
He was the first Paladin in this world, and an enduring legend among Paladins.
Fenna murmured, "Teacher, you personally took part in that epic, and Marshal Lothar witnessed the founding of the Order of the Silver Hand. Don't you want to hear Master Don Quixote's account? It really is captivating!"
Uther shook his head. "History is history. The war with the Orcs is over. What we are about to face is a far more terrible, far more brutal catastrophe! Dwelling on the past does nothing for the current war. We must see His Majesty immediately. The heir to a kingdom has betrayed the Holy Light and actually purged a city! Slaughtered the people who supported him! This is horrifying!"
Fenna hesitated briefly and glanced once more toward the surging crowd, then committed a name to memory:
Nicholas Jiang.
What a great response! Watching the crowd in the square grow larger and larger, Jiang Jie beamed.
These people were all potential patrons who would bring him plenty of money in the future. Perhaps listening to one book would cost each person only one silver coin, but if a thousand people were willing to pay, that would be ten gold coins. Besides, Jiang Jie had no intention of copying only one book. There was more than one official World of Warcraft novel!
The gaming pod stored at least several thousand Warcraft-related novels!
And listening to the story was itself a form of publicity. Once these people had enjoyed listening to it, there was a good chance they would buy the book. That would bring in another large sum.
"Pretty good." Jiang Jie chuckled and prepared to leave.
Just then, he suddenly spotted several Paladins.
Huh? Is that... Uther the Lightbringer?
Jiang Jie quickly stopped. He was very interested in this legendary figure.
But soon, his gaze shifted behind Uther to the young Paladin with the excellent figure. He also heard their conversation and learned the young Paladin's name.
A half-elf Paladin? In her twenties? Fenna? So... it's her?
Fina Goldensword, Jaina's older sister, the illegitimate daughter of Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, ruler of Kul Tiras-a half-elf who had grown up in Lordaeron.
He had not expected her to truly exist in this world.
Half-elves were always good-looking and well-proportioned. With half their genes coming from High Elves, they combined human strength with High Elf beauty, and Fenna stood out even among them.
She really was beautiful, around a hundred and seventy-five centimeters tall, with a tall, slender figure. In her Paladin armor and with her two-handed sword, she looked valiant and striking, with a distinctive appeal.
"She's my type," Jiang Jie murmured to himself.
He really was attracted to her. Beautiful women in military attire were truly appealing, all the more so with Fenna, this gifted young woman who had inherited the excellent genes of her High Elf mother and heroic father.
Where are they going? Right, judging by the timing, Arthas should have already purged Stratholme. Uther is going to complain to King Terenas! Then, tomorrow or the day after at the latest, Arthas will return to Lordaeron and take the entire fleet to Northrend to hunt down Mal'Ganis, the Dreadlord spreading the plague? Should I find a way to stop him?
Jiang Jie shook his head.
There's no stopping him!
His girlfriend Jaina tried to dissuade him, and Arthas ignored her;
His teacher Uther tried to dissuade him, and Arthas ignored him;
The astral mage Medivh took the guise of a prophet to persuade him, and he still ignored him!
No one could stop him. Even his father, King Terenas, could not stop him!
Arthas's fall was already destined to be irreversible!
"Besides, I'm weak and have little standing... forget it. I'll think about it later." Jiang Jie shook his head.
He turned to leave, planning to return to his lodgings for a medicinal bath and seize every moment he could to improve his strength.
Suddenly, a rogue walked up to him.