Chapter 31: Did I Stutter When I Said Kneel? |
Allen’s voice was arrogant and contemptuous, every word squeezed out like a favor between clenched teeth:
“Our black dragonflight controls the most powerful force in Azeroth. My father, Deathwing, is the Destroyer; my sister, Onyxia, is the mighty Black Dragon Princess, the future Mother of the Brood. And as for me—I am the future master of all Azeroth!”
Katrana stared at the impassioned young man before her, momentarily at a loss for words.
Could he really not be a lost son of the Prestor family?
The situation had completely exceeded Katrana’s expectations. Here was a man, right before her very eyes, impersonating a black dragon right in front of her, the real deal.
And he was impersonating her absolutely detestable brother.
This was… this was…
Far too interesting!
If Nefarian found out, he’d be absolutely furious, wouldn’t he?
[Deception Check: 18 points, Success]
[You have successfully deceived Onyxia—convincing her that you are a reckless, audacious madman daring enough to impersonate a black dragon right in front of her. This kind of guts and absurdity has made her think… it’s interesting. She has begun to appreciate you.]
Seeing the prompt, Allen breathed a long sigh of relief, feeling he had scraped by.
He struck while the iron was hot, piling on more weight for himself, tossing out a valuable bargaining chip.
Onyxia’s purpose in coming to Stormwind was none other than getting close to Varian and manipulating the king of Stormwind. That was her most important goal.
“If any of you dares reveal my identity—” He lowered his voice, laced with threat, “I guarantee you’ll regret ever being born into this world.”
He turned to Katrana, his tone shifting to arrogance tinged with a hint of condescending charity:
“But if you all behave yourselves, especially you, young lady—”
He paused, putting on an expression of “you’re getting a deal here”:
“I can introduce you to King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind. He’s a big shot you’d never have a chance to approach otherwise. Hmph.”
Katrana was taken aback for a moment.
Then she looked at Allen with a playful glint. “You’re a black dragon? Do you think I’ll believe you?”
Hearing Katrana’s words, Allen reached out and pulled out Xal’atath, Blade of the Black Empire, turning to face Duke Marasmom beside him. A sinister grin curled at the corner of his mouth.
Paired with the shadowy aura faintly swirling around him, he looked like a cultist crawling out of the abyss.
“Don’t believe me?”
His voice was low and dangerous:
“Heh.”
He raised his hand, pointing straight at Duke Marasmom, and cast Command once more.
“Kneel!!!”
[Saving Throw: 4, Success]
[Saving Throw: 1, Critical Failure]
The one who succeeded on the saving throw was Duke Marasmom. The one who failed was…
Katrana felt countless whispers suddenly flood into her mind.
Those voices layered over each other, sounding as if they came from an incredibly distant place, yet also murmuring right beside her ear. They intertwined, forming two heavy and imposing words—
Kneel.
The voices grew louder and louder, closer and closer, then further and further away.
Kneel.
By the time Katrana snapped back to her senses—
She was already humbly kneeling before Allen.
Her head was bowed, and her lips gently brushed against the tip of his boot.
WTF?!!!
Allen was completely dumbfounded.
I didn’t even cast it at Onyxia! And why?! How could she fail the saving throw?! Xal’atath, are you messing with me?
This is it, I’m completely done for. Onyxia is going to fly into a rage, tear me to pieces, swallow me whole, not even leaving my bones behind.
Oh, right!
Feather Fall!
Right now, jump out the window, cast Feather Fall on myself—he didn’t believe Onyxia would dare transform into a dragon inside Stormwind!
Allen jerked with all his strength, only to find his boot held firmly in place.
Rage.
Overwhelming rage.
She, Onyxia, Deathwing’s proudest daughter, the future Mother of the Brood of the Blackwing Legion, was actually kissing the boot of such a lowly man, such a pitiful, weak little worm?!
She had to kill him.
Had to!!
But—
Why?
Onyxia herself didn’t know why, but deep in her heart, there was even a trace of pleasure.
She had to kill him!
But Allen had already yanked his foot out of the boot and was sprinting toward the window without looking back.
Grease!
A massive glob of lard instantly coated the gap between him and Onyxia.
Jump! Jump! Jump!
Just then, a report came from outside the door:
“His Majesty the King has arrived—!”
Before the announcement had even finished, the door was shoved open.
Varian Wrynn strode in. Behind him followed Marshal Windsor, along with Wen Lei, Morgan, Stella, and their group.
The reason they had barged in so roughly was simple—they had come to save Allen.
Varian had long since dispatched SI:7 agents to keep tabs on Allen’s group returning to Stormwind.
By the time Allen was taken, Wen Lei hadn’t even noticed, but the SI:7 agents already had. They split into three teams: one went to alert Wen Lei, one to report to the king, and two tracked them all the way here.
Everyone stared at the scene before them—Allen’s removed boot, the rope marks on his wrists, Katrana kneeling on the ground, and the mysterious liquid spread across the floor. Their jaws dropped.
Varian pointed at Allen and Katrana. “You… you…”
Wen Lei’s eyes blazed with fury. Stella covered her eyes with one hand but still peeked through her fingers.
“It’s not what you think! This is Lady Katrana Prestor—she’s my sister!”
Allen wasn’t trying to help Onyxia; he was terrified that if he told the truth, Onyxia, in her rage, would throw caution to the wind and transform into a dragon right here, slaughtering everyone.
“What?! She’s your sister?! You two…”
“No, I…”
Varian was, after all, a king. He took a deep breath, quickly suppressing the shock and embarrassment in his heart, forced a polite smile onto his face, and looked at Katrana.
“So you are Allen Prestor’s sister? My apologies. Lately, I’ve been told there was a Lady Katrana seeking an audience with me. Had I known you were Allen’s sister, I would have made time.”
Allen silently pulled his boot back on.
Katrana had already risen to her feet with a blank expression.
She elegantly smoothed her robe and gave Varian a slight nod. “Your Majesty is too kind. It was I who invited so presumptuously.”
And so, in that bizarre atmosphere, the two exchanged a round of aristocratic pleasantries.
After a brief exchange, Varian arranged for Katrana and Allen to join him for dinner at Stormwind Keep another day.
Then, everyone was eager to get out of that suffocating, awkward place as fast as possible.
Before they parted ways, as Allen passed by Katrana’s side, a hand suddenly grabbed him.
Katrana leaned in close to his ear, her warm breath brushing against his ear canal. Her voice was so low that only he could hear:
“Would you say this counts as me having submitted to you?”
She spoke slowly, emphasizing every word:
“My evil and noble Black Dragon Prince.”
Allen’s body froze.
“Let’s… work together from now on.”
She released her grip, a meaningful smile curling at the corner of her mouth, and turned to walk away.
Allen stood rooted to the spot, completely paralyzed.
This sinister, cunning, malicious, wicked woman—
What exactly is she trying to do?!
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