Chapter 38: Money, Power, the Most Beautiful Woman! |
The next morning, just as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Stormwind's city gates slowly swung open.
The four of them were already fully prepared, the carriage heading straight for Stormwind Keep.
After presenting Varian's token, the guards didn't hesitate for a moment, respectfully ushering them into the fortress.
Passing through several corridors, they were led into a spacious banquet hall.
Sunlight streamed in through the tall stained-glass windows, casting colorful rays across the floor. Massive tapestries hung on the walls, embroidered with the great achievements of Stormwind's past kings.
"Please wait here, the king will arrive shortly," the attending servant said, bowing as he withdrew.
Allen nodded and sat down at the long table.
Morgan curiously examined the decorations around him, while Stella carefully touched the silver platter on the table before quickly pulling her hand back.
A quarter of an hour passed.
No one came.
Allen furrowed his brow, stood up, and walked to the door to look outside. The corridor was completely empty, not a single servant in sight.
"Strange..." he murmured. "Why is it so quiet?"
Wen Lei also rose to his feet, his gaze scanning the surroundings with wary alertness.
Just then, heavy footsteps surged from all directions.
Squad after squad of fully armed Stormwind guards poured into the banquet hall, quickly spreading out to surround the four of them.
Marshal Windsor strode out from among the guards, his rugged face ashen with grim determination.
"By the king's order—" he announced in a loud voice that echoed through the empty hall, "Allen Prestor is the evil black dragon Nefarian, lurking in Stormwind! He is suspected of spreading dark magic, attempting to corrupt the king, and other heinous crimes. All associates are to be arrested on the spot!"
Realizing something was wrong, Allen quickly tried to explain.
"Marshal, there must be some misunderstanding. That order you just read—did you hear it directly from His Majesty the King's own lips?"
A flicker of hesitation passed through Windsor's eyes.
[Persuasion Check: Success]
[Marshal Windsor is not the kind of fool who blindly follows stupid orders. He hasn't seen King Varian Wrynn with his own eyes. Since last night, the king has refused to meet anyone, and this order was transmitted through a document. He finds it suspicious too. But right now, with everyone watching, he can't just let you go. So—run, run now!]
Allen took a deep breath and raised his hand.
Feather Fall!
Pale blue light swirled around his fingertips, slowly spreading toward the three people beside him.
"Trust me!" he shouted. "Jump out the window! I won't let you fall to your deaths!"
Morgan didn't hesitate for a second. He charged toward the window and leaped out without looking back.
His figure disappeared beyond the sill, followed by Stella, who jumped with her eyes squeezed shut.
Wen Lei looked at Allen. Their gazes met for a brief moment, and then he too vaulted over the edge.
The guards stirred with unease. Some wanted to step forward and stop them, but no one received an order from Windsor.
Allen cast one last glance at Windsor—the old marshal stood rooted to the spot, his face expressionless, yet he never gave the command to attack.
That was enough.
Allen rushed to the windowsill and launched himself into the air.
The wind howled past his ears. Then, a massive force suddenly grabbed hold of him.
The strength was terrifying, like an invisible giant hand clenching him in its grip.
Blood Demon's Grasp?!?!
Allen felt his body being yanked backward uncontrollably. The walls of Stormwind Keep, the sky, the earth—everything spun wildly in his vision—
THUD!
He slammed hard against the wall, every organ in his body feeling like it had been knocked out of place.
Excruciating pain radiated from his back, his vision swimming into a blur.
When Allen opened his eyes again, the first thing that came into view was a pair of long, pale legs, lazily crossed, teasingly visible beneath a robe.
"My dear little brother—"
A languid, seductive voice drifted down from a soft couch above him:
"When did you return to Stormwind? Why didn't you tell me? Have you grown distant from your big sister?"
Onyxia. He had fallen into her hands again. This hellish dungeon kept throwing him straight at max-level bosses fresh out of the tutorial zone.
Allen looked down at himself—ropes wrapped around and around, tied up tightly. The only part of his body that could move was his mouth.
Given the current situation, pretending to be the Black Dragon Prince seemed pointless.
Allen launched into his performance once more. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impersonate a member of the Prestor family. I never expected to offend the real one. Please forgive me."
Katrana looked at him with amused interest. "Oh? So you're not the great and wicked Black Dragon Prince Nefarian?"
"That was... that was just a desperate lie I told to survive." His voice carried just the right amount of regret. "Think about it—how could I possibly be the Black Dragon Prince? If I were him, then you would have to be the even more noble and powerful Black Dragon Princess."
His voice grew softer:
"I've been living in fear every single day, scamming and bluffing my way through... Tomorrow, I'll come clean to everyone. I'm not from the Prestor family at all!"
Katrana stared at the young man before her, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly.
She was very satisfied with this answer.
She shifted to cross her legs the other way, the movement agonizingly slow.
"Since that's the case, then tell me first—why did you pretend to be one of us?"
Allen's mind raced at lightning speed.
Think, you idiot brain, think!
What kind of answer would a wicked, treacherous, vile, and shameless female lizard like?
"Money!"
The words burst out of him, his voice dripping with sincerity:
"For the money! I want wealth, fame, and the most beautiful woman! I've never had any of these since I was a kid, so I took a desperate gamble, risking everything to impersonate a noble from some distant northern kingdom. I just wanted to get by, to find my way to the top..."
Katrana let out a soft laugh. No one could tell what she was thinking as she looked Allen up and down, taking her sweet time before speaking again.
"Very well."
Finally, her crimson lips parted.
"I, Katrana Prestor, like honest people. Since you want wealth, fame, and—the most beautiful woman—"
She shifted her posture, leaning slightly forward. The deep cleavage practically struggled to escape her robe, swaying temptingly before Allen's eyes.
"I can give you all of it."
A meaningful smile curled at the corners of Katrana's mouth.
"But from today onward, you will work for me."
Since he really wasn't a surviving Prestor heir who had escaped disaster, there was no need to kill him. Better to take him in as her proxy in Stormwind, preparing for the day she officially took control of the city.
A greedy con man hungry for wealth and fame was the easiest kind of puppet to control.
"Work for me, and I will make you a true Prestor noble son." Katrana's voice dripped with temptation. "I will give you endless riches, let you enjoy boundless luxury and glory."
She leaned in closer.
The softness of her chest seemed ready to spill out, less than a foot from Allen's face, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.
"As for the most beautiful woman—"
Her voice dropped to a lover's whisper:
"From now on, you'll be my kept man. You'll come to serve me every night."
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