Chapter 17: Stalvan’s Diary

Azeroth: Becoming a God by Rolling Dice

Duskwood.

The carriage moved slowly along the road, the surrounding trees tall and twisted, almost blotting out all the daylight.

Yes, daylight.

It was clearly noon, but the moment they crossed into the border of Duskwood, the sky seemed to have been pulled down like a curtain.

Heavy gray clouds pressed low, and occasional slivers of light leaking through the seams of cloud did not illuminate the surroundings; instead, they made the twisted tree shadows look even more sinister.

“Wow……” Stella pressed her face against the window, “Why is it so dark? Magic?”

Allen, practicing riding, felt the same inward wonder. In the game Duskwood was always gloomy, but experiencing it in person made the oppression tangible.

Beside him, Varian rode that white horse, keeping pace with the carriage, holding a battered book in his hands, his brows growing increasingly tight.

Last night, at the horse ranch east of Elwynn Forest, they had lodged with the ranch owner, the Hunter family.

Old Hunter had taken a particular interest when he learned they were investigating the de Montmorency massacre.

Because his eldest son had been the lover of Miss Tiroia de Montmorency.

That poor young man was still sullen with grief over losing his beloved, unable to recover.

Allen inquired discreetly about Stalvan. The Hunters recalled Stalvan staying at their home for a few days—polite, refined in speech, leaving a very good impression. He had even said he had a gift to give young Hunter, unfortunately the boy happened to be away that day.

Mrs. Hunter also remembered one thing: when Stalvan left, he had left behind a diary at their house. They respected their guests’ privacy and never opened it.

Allen could not bear for the Hunter family to know what that “polite gentleman” had actually done; he only took the diary when they left.

Now Varian was flipping through Stalvan’s diary. His expression grew darker and darker.

“……Strange, uncontrollable, today I felt something I never have before. While I was tutoring Kyles in history, Tiroia was outside tending her garden. After a while she came in, placed a bright red begonia in the palm of my hand and smiled sweetly at me, and I felt my heart pounding violently……

……I am certain she feels the same toward me. This morning she even placed her hand in mine. When she smiled, her eyes shimmered like diamonds. We shared a silent communion; she has taken up residence in my heart, and she sets my blood racing.

……I never thought I would be so enraged! How dare she! When I was teaching Kyles math, Tiroia came with one of her suitors, and they openly held hands! Such an ill-bred young man. Tiroia barely introduced me, casually saying, ‘Oh, this is my tutor, Uncle Stalvan. He’s a nice old man.’ Old man! The instant I heard that word, my face flushed. I am only a few years older than her, and yet she betrayed me……

……My heart seems to have fallen into a bottomless abyss of despair. She betrayed my feelings and now she is engaged. That wretched deceiver—my mind is filled with darkness, and with every passing minute that feeling intensifies. I will make her pay in blood, though compared to my tears, that will be pale and powerless……”

Varian slammed the diary shut with a snap, furious. “That beast!”

Stella poked her blue head out of the window, curious. “Have you finished? Can I see it?!”

Allen reached over and pushed Stella’s head back inside. “Kids, don’t look.”

“I’m not a kid!” Stella protested muffled from within the carriage, “I just look small!”

Allen ignored her protest and urged his horse closer to Varian.

Varian looked up at him, his gaze resolute.

“No matter what,” he said slowly and deliberately, “I will never let that beast go.”

“I completely agree.” Allen nodded.

Just then, after Stella ducked back in, Wen Lei’s head popped out.

“From the forest on the right,” Wen Lei leaned her ear and listened, her eyes sharp, “I can hear sounds of fighting.”

Allen snapped alert. “Oh? Let’s go take a look.”

He tugged the reins and turned his mount. With his current stats—12 Strength, 11 Stamina, 11 Agility—he was already above average among ordinary people, and his riding had become more skillful.

The coachman stopped the carriage as instructed.

Allen and Varian dismounted, Wen Lei crawled out the window, and Stella tumbled out clutching her bulging engineering pack.

Varian drew his sword, Wen Lei notched her light bow, and Allen tightened his grip on the short sword he had taken from Goldshire.

They pushed through the undergrowth and walked several dozen steps deeper into the woods.

Suddenly, a low, guttural roar mixed with the clang of metal came from ahead.

Through the interlaced trunks they saw a clearing.

On the clearing stood a young man in silver plate armor locked in combat with a giant wolf.

The wolf was enormous.

Taller than a grown man, its silver-gray fur stood up like steel needles, and its eyes glowed an eerie crimson.

When it swung its claws, dark purple light curled around the talons, forming shadow slashes that screamed toward its opponent.

The young man raised a shield bearing the sigil of holy light, barely blocking a shadow slash.

Bang—the shadow energy exploded against the shield, scattering black sparks. He stumbled back, and took the chance to thrust his sword, carving a wound into the wolf’s foreleg.

The wolf howled in pain, its roar growing even more ferocious.

The group exchanged looks.

“Isn’t that……” Allen murmured.

Stella had already pulled out the wanted poster.

She unfolded the parchment, looked at the picture of the “cute little dog,” then looked up at the massive creature in the clearing that was frantically lunging, eyes aglow and claws trailing shadow.

She lowered the poster and looked again.

Then looked up at the wolf.

She repeated this three or four times.

Finally, cocking her head, she directed a soul-level question at the wolf:

“Is that you in the picture?”

The wolf, of course, did not answer. It was busy dodging a horizontal strike from the paladin and countering with a shadow slash.

Wen Lei’s mouth twitched. She lowered her bow and looked at Allen. “Are we helping?”

Allen glanced at the paladin, clearly on the defensive.

“Help.” Allen drew his short sword. “That’s a gold coin.”

Varian had already tightened his grip on his sword and chuckled when he heard that. “I knew it.”