Chapter 50: Fragments of a Legendary Weapon |
Allen smiled slightly. “Of course I’m fine. See, this time I didn’t even pass out.”
Wen Lei gave a knowing smile.
Stella came sprinting over with excitement, her short little legs churning and her two blue braids flying behind her.
She had just finished emergency treatment on the severely wounded, her small face still smeared with blood and soot, yet brimming with pride.
“Benefactor! I saved—”
Before she could finish her sentence.
Splat.
Stella tripped over something and landed flat on her face.
“Oww! That hurts so much!”
Then, she realized that what had tripped her was a... wooden stick.
A wooden stick about the length of a forearm, lying quietly on the ground.
But oddly enough, the surrounding flagstones had all been scorched black and cracked by the Void Torrent, yet this stick was completely unharmed, without even a trace of burn.
Stella was about to reach for it.
“Wait.”
Allen had already stepped forward and picked up the wooden stick.
The moment it touched his hand, he sensed something unusual.
[Perception Check: Success]
[Your gaze falls upon this seemingly ordinary wooden stick. It was left behind at the spot where Teron Gorefiend vanished—the Death Knight who was completely vaporized by the Void Torrent, not even a trace of his soul remaining. Yet this wooden stick lies intact on the blackened stone, as if mocking the Void’s consumption.
You study it closely and discover delicate patterns on one end—ancient runes. Though only fragments remain, those surviving pieces alone allow you to feel a vast surge of magical energy, like an unfathomable ocean.
This is no ordinary item. Absolutely not.]
Allen flipped the stick over, and the item information appeared.
[Fragment of Atiesh]
[A fragment of Atiesh, a piece of the Guardian’s legendary staff.]
What?! This is actually a Fragment of Atiesh?!
The Guardian’s legendary staff—one of the most famous staves in World of Warcraft, the symbol of the Guardians of Tirisfal throughout the ages, Medivh’s weapon!
Allen nearly blurted it out.
He forcefully suppressed the shock in his heart, gripping the seemingly unremarkable stick, his fingertips trembling slightly.
Although he possessed Xal’atath, Blade of the Black Empire, and wielded Shadow Magic with ease, he had just unlocked the Warlock class and truly lacked a decent staff.
How did Teron Gorefiend have a Fragment of Atiesh on him?
Right, Gorefiend had come specifically to hunt for artifacts. Perhaps the Guardian’s legendary staff was also among his backup targets.
Maybe he had already found one fragment but hadn’t managed to collect them all before...
A smile curled at the corner of Allen’s mouth.
In that case, I’ll gladly accept your legacy.
No one cared about this unremarkable stick, so Allen naturally pocketed it without a second thought.
[Side Quest Triggered: Strange Wooden Stick]
[You picked up a seemingly ordinary wooden stick from the remains of Teron Gorefiend. But its survival through the Void Torrent proves it is no ordinary item. The surviving runes faintly point toward a surging magical power.
Go inquire at the nearest magic city—who knows, you might get a pleasant surprise!]
[Quest Objective: Arrive at the nearest magic city!]
[Quest Reward: Random Low-Level Spell x1, increase 1 class level]
Magic city?
The nearest magic city in World of Warcraft... that would have to be Dalaran, right?
Allen touched the fragment in his bosom, lost in thought.
“Benefactor?” Stella leaned in. “What’s so special about that stick?”
“Nothing.” Allen pulled his hand out of his chest without changing expression. “Just a broken stick. Probably leftover firewood someone used.”
Stella let out an “Oh” and quickly got distracted by something else.
At that moment, Marshal Windsor had finished getting bandaged. He limped over to Varian and knelt on one knee, head bowed low.
“Your Majesty.” His voice was hoarse and heavy. “It was my incompetence that failed to protect you. For putting you in such danger, I deserve death a thousand times over.”
Varian quickly stepped forward and raised the old general with both hands.
“If you hadn’t held the Treasury with your troops and bought us time, we never could have arrived in time.”
Allen stepped forward and spoke at the right moment. “Your Majesty, Marshal, Teron Gorefiend’s target this time was Medivh’s book. I suggest we take the book out immediately and store it in a safer place. The Horde probably sent more than just this one team.”
Varian and Wen Lei both glanced at Allen.
Allen had a knack for surprising people by being even more surprising than they expected.
Regarding the things he had shouted on the battlefield—how he could know so many Horde secrets—they were almost used to it by now.
So Varian tacitly avoided bringing it up, choosing instead to trust Allen’s intel.
After all, in Stormwind, there was a tradition for such things. A dark wizard being a prophet—that was completely in line with the ancestral ways.
Windsor’s expression turned serious. He nodded.
“Makes sense.” He turned and called a few trusted guards. “Follow me.”
The group quickly headed toward the Treasury.
At the same time, more guards flooded into the battlefield.
They began cleaning up the charred corpses, carrying the wounded, and maintaining order.
The priests of the Cathedral of Light had also arrived. Over a dozen white-robed priests, holding Holy Light artifacts, began treating the wounded.
Several of the priests stood in the center of the battlefield, sensing the surging Shadow Magic around them, exchanging glances with grave expressions.
“This is Teron Gorefiend’s power?” a young priest murmured. “So evil... so terrifying...”
An older priest nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Such dense shadow energy—even the orc warlocks of the Shadow Council I encountered in the Second War were no more than this. Thank goodness His Majesty is unharmed. Otherwise, the consequences would be unthinkable.”
Their conversation drifted into the ears of nearby soldiers and the wounded.
Many instinctively lowered their gaze or turned away, pretending to be busy. No one corrected them.
No one dared to say that these traces weren’t left by Teron Gorefiend.
No one dared to say that the one who had left these traces was standing not far away at that very moment.
Allen scratched his head awkwardly, pretending not to hear.
Varian cleared his throat and turned to Allen and the others. “Everyone, you’ve worked hard. Why not rest at Stormwind Keep for a while? I’ll have the best priests tend to your injuries.”
Allen was about to decline—
“Something terrible has happened!”
Marshal Windsor came stumbling back from the direction of the Treasury. His face was pale, his forehead drenched in cold sweat.
“Something terrible, Your Majesty! Medivh’s book... Medivh’s book is gone!”
Varian’s face changed drastically. “What?!”
Windsor ran up to them, panting, and raised an open box.
“The box that held Medivh’s book is empty.” His voice trembled. “All that’s left... all that’s left is this.”
He pulled an emblem out of the box.
It was a silver emblem, engraved with a snow-capped mountain, atop which stood a castle.
The emblem of the Kingdom of Alterac.
Everyone’s eyes fell squarely on Allen.
After all, who didn’t know that Allen Prestor was a noble from the Kingdom of Alterac?
He stared at the emblem.
Stared at that damned snow-capped mountain and castle.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
Fuck.