Chapter 22: We Are All Walking Toward That Future |
The moment he regained his senses, Khadgar was already gone.
The tavern was still dimly lit, those few patrons were still dozing with their heads on the tables, as if nothing had happened at all.
But none of that mattered anymore.
He had a whole day to become a god.
Allen slowly stood up, his gaze sweeping across the tavern floor.
He saw it.
On the floor by the tavern entrance, there was a trail of footprints, trampled by later arrivals until they were almost unrecognizable, but in his eyes, they were as clear as if they had just been freshly imprinted.
The owner of the footprints had paused at the entrance, the soles of their shoes carrying the mud of Elwynn Forest, mixed with... bloodstains.
That trail of footprints walked towards the bar and sat down on a chair in the corner.
It was him.
Stalvan Mistmantle.
He had sat here, ordered a drink. Allen could see him finish the drink, stand up, and walk towards the door.
Allen stood up and pushed open the tavern door.
The street outside was still bustling with people coming and going. Soldiers walked past in twos and threes, vendors hawked their wares, children chased each other.
But Allen's gaze pierced through all of this, following that trail of footprints only he could see.
That direction...
He frowned.
That direction is... wait a minute, I think I remember seeing something?
... I remember now.
Found you. I'm going to tear you to shreds with magic, easily.
A smile curled at the corner of Allen's mouth. He lifted his foot, ready to give chase—
Suddenly, the world in his eyes began to shatter.
BOOM—!!
Heaven crumbled and earth cracked.
The world-destroying dragon Deathwing dove down from the clouds. His body was forged from molten lava and iron armor, each beat of his wings stirring up cataclysmic storms.
Dragonfire rained down from the sky. Golden flames devoured the entire street—soldiers, vendors, children, all turned to ash in an instant.
The earth split apart.
Magma gushed from the fissures, swallowing the houses of Darkshire one by one.
In the distance, a tsunami swept in. Black, towering waves blotted out the sky and sun, drowning everything in despair.
And deeper underground, something was awakening.
It was an indescribable existence, vaster than mountains, more ancient than time.
Countless tentacles drilled out from beneath the earth. Each tentacle bore millions of eyes—those eyes all opened at once, all gazed at Allen.
Quick, use Meteor Swarm!
Quick!!
Allen raised his hand, trying to channel the 9th-level spell he had just acquired.
Wait! Can't use Meteor Swarm!
All of this is just an illusion, it's not real. I can't use Meteor Swarm here.
I would personally destroy Darkshire.
I can't...
Just then, those familiar figures crawled up from the ruins.
Half of Varian's body was charred, ghostly blue flames burning in his eye sockets.
Wen Lei walked towards him step by step, his outstretched arm already reduced to bare bone.
Stella's small body was twisted into a grotesque shape, crawling towards him mechanically.
They all reached out their hands together, grabbing for him.
Grabbing for him.
Grabbing—
"All eyes have opened."
"And yours are the first pair."
Allen saw an exact copy of himself lying in the center of a boundless sea of blood, looking at himself, reaching out a hand towards him, murmuring something.
"We are all walking towards that future."
Cough.
Allen coughed violently.
He lowered his head and opened his hands—his palms were filled with a large pool of blood.
Warm, sticky, glaring red.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
A wretched scream tore from his throat. His head felt as if countless hands were tearing it apart from the inside, every cell dissolving—
Thud.
He collapsed to the ground, and the world plunged into darkness.
---------------
When he woke up again, Allen found himself lying on a soft bed.
Above him was an unfamiliar ceiling. Dim daylight filtered in through a gap in the curtains.
His head... didn't hurt anymore.
That wondrous feeling of dominating the world had also completely vanished.
Allen abruptly sat up and pulled open his system panel.
The [Arcane Intellect] buff... was gone.
What? I actually was unconscious for a whole day?! What a waste!
Allen felt a pang of intense regret. He hadn't even gotten to enjoy it properly!
Although reason told him that continuing in that state might have led to more severe consequences, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. The feeling of omniscience and omnipotence! And he just slept through it!
He took a deep breath and, with trembling fingers, opened his skill bar.
Meteor Swarm—9th-level—lay there quietly, emitting a faint golden glow.
Allen let out a long, slow exhale.
Good, it wasn't a dream.
However, Allen could clearly sense that, after losing 100 points of Intelligence, with his current body, he probably couldn't cast a spell of this level for the time being.
Even if he could cast it, it would probably...
"You're finally awake."
A familiar voice came from beside the bed.
Allen turned his head and saw Wen Lei sitting in a chair by the bed.
Spread across his lap was a newly finished cloak, made of silver-grey fur, supple and thick, shimmering with a faint luster in the sunlight.
It was made from Lupos's pelt.
Wen Lei's hand gently stroked the fur, his movements as tender as if he were petting a living creature, a rather proud expression on his face.
"Seems you were really short on sleep," he teased. "Since I've known you, you've already fainted three times."
Allen was momentarily speechless. After thinking for a moment, he said helplessly, "Three times? ... Oh, I remember, when we first met, I was already unconscious."
Wen Lei looked at him with considerable pride. "After spending so many days with you, I've improved too. For your tendency to faint at the drop of a hat, I've already thought up an excuse for you. I said our young master has a hereditary family illness since childhood and is prone to fainting. How's that, considerate enough?"
Looking at Wen Lei's expression seeking praise, Allen helplessly gave a slow clap. "Thank you, Uncle Wen Lei. How long was I unconscious? The Sons of Lothar..."
Allen wanted to go find Khadgar again to freeload another Arcane Intellect. Just this time, he hoped Khadgar would hold back a bit, adding just ten or twenty Intelligence would be enough.
Wen Lei shook his head. "You were unconscious for over a day. The Sons of Lothar just set out, heading for the Swamp of Sorrows."
A shame. If the Sons of Lothar aren't here, Khadgar definitely isn't here either.
"Where did Stella and Mathias go?" he asked.
"Stella went to find an engineering supplier. She said she needed something... a clockwork camel or something." Wen Lei shrugged. "Don't know about Mathias. That kid is secretive. He slipped out early in the morning. Morgan is downstairs guarding you, hasn't left your side for a moment."
Allen propped himself up on the edge of the bed to sit up, his expression suddenly turning serious.
"Go call them back quickly. As a precaution against danger."
The smile faded from Wen Lei's face, his brows furrowing slightly. "Why? What danger?"
Allen sighed.
He had relied too much on his memories of the future storyline. In the World of Warcraft, Stalvan did indeed hide in that abandoned cottage north of Darkshire—but that was many years later. Right now, it's only the eighth year after the Dark Portal. Stalvan just committed the crime not long ago. He might not immediately hide in that place.
In other words, right now, Stalvan could be anywhere.
When he was omniscient and omnipotent, he rushed out of the tavern, but what he saw wasn't traces of Stalvan fleeing somewhere in panic. What he saw was...
Allen raised his head, looking directly into Wen Lei's eyes.
"I saw Stalvan Mistmantle himself," he said, his voice low and certain. "Right here in Darkshire."