Chapter 10: The Massacre of a Stormwind Family |
[Deception Check: Success]
Amy blinked her eyes, looking at the "Arcane Crystal," then at Allen's sincere expression.
"R... really? Something so valuable, for just one silver coin?"
"Of course!" Allen patted his chest. "I'm a man who knows how to repay kindness!"
Amy hesitated for a moment, then pulled a silver coin from her pocket and handed it to him.
"Then... then I'll buy it."
Allen took the silver coin, tucked it into his pocket, turned, and left.
Stepping out of the main gate of the Arcane Sanctum, he stopped and looked back at the magnificent purple building.
Amy Marlin...
Although he couldn't recall exactly who she was at the moment, Allen knew she was probably a named character in World of Warcraft.
A kind-hearted, good girl.
It felt pretty bad to deceive her like this.
But there was no choice; it was the system's task.
I will repay the kindness of this silver coin someday.
Allen tossed the silver coin in his hand a few times and continued walking.
At the end of the street in the Mage Quarter stood an inconspicuous building with a sign hanging at the door: The Slaughtered Lamb Inn.
Allen knew that the Warlock trainer for the human race in World of Warcraft was hidden in the basement of this inn.
Should he embrace fel energy, just like Gul'dan?
He stood at the street corner, staring at the inn, hesitating for a long time.
Then, he turned and left.
He still preferred professions that were a bit more sunny and handsome.
Fel energy... could wait.
Crossing the boundary of the Mage Quarter, Allen arrived in the Trade District.
It was lively, bustling, and full of life. Shops lined both sides of the street, hawking cries rose and fell, and crowds bustled about, including finely dressed merchants, porters carrying goods, and children running back and forth.
Allen walked through the crowd feeling refreshed and uplifted, soaking in this long-missed liveliness.
Then, he couldn't resist spending.
He bought a pair of gloves from a leather goods shop—fine, soft lambskin, exquisitely crafted, and comfortable to wear. Next door at a fabric shop, he bought a scarf—deep blue wool, soft and warm to the touch.
Just as he was paying, a strange chill suddenly crawled up his spine.
The surrounding clamor seemed to freeze in an instant.
The cries of hawkers, footsteps, conversations—all sounds became distant and muffled, as if separated by a thick curtain of water.
The pedestrians coming and going on the street were still moving, but it was as if someone had pressed slow-motion; every movement was so slow it was nearly frozen.
And in this still world, a pair of eyes was watching him.
It was a gnome.
With striking, bright yellow hair, wearing a set of bright yellow robes, she stood right in the middle of the bustling street, quietly watching him.
The surrounding commotion had nothing to do with her. The flowing crowd passed by her side, yet not a single person touched her.
She stood there like a rock, letting the river of time flow past on either side.
Then, she began walking toward Allen.
Step by step, neither fast nor slow, but unstoppable.
Allen's heart suddenly tightened.
A female gnome with yellow hair and yellow clothes... could it be...
Chromie?
The Bronze Dragonflight was one of the five great Dragon Aspects of Azeroth, responsible for guarding the order of the timeline. Chromie was a member of the Bronze Dragonflight, who most enjoyed disguising herself as a gnome and mingling among mortals.
No way?
He had only been here for a few days, and he was already on the Bronze Dragonflight's radar?
Was it because his transmigration had caused a disturbance in the timeline, prompting the Bronze Dragons to intervene and eliminate him?
In an instant, countless possibilities flashed through Allen's mind—erasure, being thrown back to his original world, being cast into a time rift to wander forever...
The yellow-haired gnome had already reached him.
She looked up, her eyes as calm as a bottomless, ancient well, quietly gazing at him.
Allen met her gaze.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Allen took a deep breath and pulled out a piece of emerald-green stone from his robe—still malachite.
"I have here a priceless gemstone, an Arcane Crystal so rare it's seen only once in a century," he said, his voice so calm it even surprised himself. "I'm selling it cheap right now. Do you want it?"
Evening arrived, and Allen returned to the Pig and Whistle Inn.
He sat at the dining table, filled with a sense of lingering fear.
For some reason, the gnome suspected to be Chromie had ultimately not taken action against him.
She had just looked at the malachite, then looked at Allen, then pulled out a silver coin and bought it.
One silver coin.
For a worthless piece of malachite.
She bought it.
What did this mean?
Was it the Bronze Dragonflight tacitly approving his actions? Or was it just Chromie's mischievous taste?
Regardless, he had just deceived a powerful Bronze Dragon, making her spend money on a worthless piece of junk stone. Surely that counted as a grand swindle, right?
Allen checked his system panel.
Main Quest Progress: 0/1.
...Alright, apparently not.
He sighed and looked up, just in time to see Wen Lei and Stella sitting downstairs having their midday meal.
The moment Stella saw Allen, she immediately shot over like a little cannonball. Her small face was streaked with tears, her large sapphire-blue eyes watery, and she trembled all over with excitement.
"Benefactor!" She hugged Allen's leg and wailed loudly. "Thank you for providing such a sumptuous lunch! It was so delicious! I've never eaten anything so tasty in my whole life!"
Allen looked down at this little gnome, snot and tears running down her face, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
Wen Lei sat at the dining table, watching Stella's tearful display of gratitude toward Allen, feeling inexplicably annoyed. After all, it was his money that had paid for it...
But soon, Allen walked up to him and held up the gloves.
"Uncle Wen Lei," he said, "I bought you a pair of gloves. Those gloves you've been wearing for days must be filthy, right?"
Wen Lei was stunned.
He looked down at his hands. Those gloves had indeed been worn for several days, covered in the dust and sweat stains of the journey.
He looked up at the new gloves Allen was offering—fine, soft lambskin, exquisitely crafted, clearly not cheap.
He took the gloves without a word, just nodding.
Allen then pulled the deep blue wool scarf from his bag and handed it to Stella. "And Stella, this scarf is for you. The weather is getting colder; don't catch a chill."
Stella took the scarf and, still with snot and tears, wrapped it around her neck.
But her frame was just too petite. The scarf wrapped once around her neck, and the remaining length hung straight down to her knees, making it look like she was wearing a cape or an ill-fitting sweater.
Just as she was about to say something, the inn door was suddenly thrown open with a bang.
Shaw stood panting in the doorway, fine beads of sweat on his forehead, his chest heaving violently—clearly, he had run all the way here.
His gaze swept across the interior of the inn and quickly locked onto Allen.
"Allen!" He strode forward, lowering his voice. "Finally found you. There's progress on the de Montmorency matter."
Bang!
Wen Lei slammed the table and stood up abruptly.
Shaw was startled by the commotion and gave him a strange look, but didn't comment further, continuing his report to Allen:
"We've figured it out. The de Montmorency family was just a minor noble house in Stormwind, consistently marginalized from power, holding no real authority and not well-known. But..."
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.
"But, their entire family was massacred three weeks ago."
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