Chapter 51: Stormwind Royal Magic Advisor |
In the Throne Hall of Stormwind Keep.
Varian sat on the throne atop the dais, draped in the blue-and-gold ceremonial robes of the Stormwind royal family, the crown symbolizing his sovereign power upon his head.
Sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns of light and shadow across his body.
His young face was now filled with solemnity and authority—a world apart from the teenager who’d hidden in a tavern drowning his sorrows just a month ago.
Below the dais, the ministers stood in solemn silence.
Dukes, counts, and barons in their finery were arranged by rank, with officials and nobles behind them.
Allen stood at the very back of the line, mingling with the lower-tier nobles and clerks.
“The final item on today’s agenda,” Varian’s voice echoed through the hall. “I hereby announce a new appointment—”
He paused, his gaze crossing the layers of the crowd, settling on that corner.
A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall.
During this time, Allen had been living in Stormwind Keep—for no other reason than Varian had promised him this.
Royal Magic Advisor. He was really starting to look like a grand archmage.
When the council ended, some nobles were still whispering among themselves.
“Royal Magic Advisor? What a joke. He’s not even a mage, and he gets to be a magic advisor?”
Another voice chimed in with a laugh, “Hahahaha, I’d call him a dark magic advisor instead.”
“Speaking of which, wasn’t Medivh’s book stolen?” a third voice rose. “That dark wizard probably took it! Who else could it be?”
“Exactly. Isn’t he from the Kingdom of Alterac?”
Overhearing these nobles’ chatter, Allen’s face instantly darkened.
Varian had just seen off a few ministers when he turned back to find Allen’s gloomy expression. He froze for a moment, then quickly walked over.
“What’s wrong?”
Allen didn’t answer. He just stared at the receding backs.
“What are their names?”
Varian looked at him in surprise. “Seriously? You’re not actually going to do something, are you?”
Even as he asked, Varian still told Allen their names.
Allen sneered inwardly.
Hmph.
Tonight, I’ll pay you a visit in your dreams.
Let you see what true evil looks like.
Yes, Medivh’s book had still been stolen.
Varian and the others all suspected that Katrana Prestor had taken Medivh’s book.
But Allen knew the truth.
The moment he saw that Alterac insignia, he remembered.
It was the “Mad King” Aiden Perenolde.
That ambitious King of Alterac had long since sent people to steal Medivh’s book—and had arrogantly left his own mark behind.
In the original course of history, Teron Gorefiend had also come up empty-handed—the artifact he sought had already been snatched up by the Alterac people first.
But the problem was…
Now, Alterac was completely under Deathwing’s control.
That old black dragon, under the alias “Lord Daval Prestor,” was toying with the entire kingdom in the palm of his hand.
The moment he discovered it himself, Medivh’s book would fall into Deathwing’s hands—no different from it being conquered already.
Allen rubbed his temples.
As he saw it, Sargeras’s scepter was on some island in the Great Sea, hidden deep inside the perilous Tomb of Sargeras.
If they wanted to stop the Horde’s scheme, their best option was to go to Dalaran and protect the Eye of Dalaran there.
At the very least, they couldn’t let the Horde collect all three artifacts.
After the council, Varian hurried off to prepare for the award ceremony, while Allen walked alone toward the SI:7 office.
Today, Varian was also awarding medals to the heroes of that battle. Morgan Ladimore, as a paladin of Stormwind, was naturally on the list.
Those receiving honors today would also be granted a set of high-grade knight armor—a full suit of armor.
Morgan’s original armor had been forged over many years of frugal living by his whole family, so he’d been too excited to sleep these past few days.
After the battle, Wen Lei had written several letters, some heading north, some south.
All four of them had been rewarded with 5 gold coins each by the Wrynn royal family. The reason Stormwind was suddenly so generous was that they had just ransacked the estates of nobles like Duke Marasmom, leaving the treasury significantly better off.
As he was thinking, Allen had already reached the SI:7 office.
He pushed the door open.
Dim lamplight illuminated the simple furnishings: a few tables and chairs, a couple of filing cabinets, and a massive map of Stormwind hanging on the wall.
Shaw sat behind his desk, holding a cup of tea.
He looked up and saw Allen, his gaunt face forcing a smile.
“Finally here,” his voice was hoarse, carrying a barely concealed exhaustion. “Been waiting for you.”
The reason Allen had come here was that after the confiscations, Varian had promised Allen and the others that each of them could pick any one item from the seized treasures to take.
Beyond that, Varian had also been dangling a carrot in front of Allen, saying he’d prepared a big surprise for him.
Allen sat down across from Shaw, studying this young spymaster.
Shaw had lost a lot of weight.
Allen knew why.
Because he hadn’t managed to stop Katrana, leaving the king in danger—that was negligence.
Worse still, Shaw had been unconscious the whole time, missing the final battle entirely, let alone having a chance to atone through merit.
If it weren’t for his personal friendship with Varian, his position as head of SI:7 would have been stripped already.
“Let’s go.” Shaw stood up, taking a keyring off the wall. “I’ll take you to the spoils room.”
He led Allen through several corridors, past layers of guard posts, finally stopping in front of a heavy iron door.
The door had three locks, each requiring a different key.
Shaw unlocked them with practiced ease, then pushed the door open.
“Everything’s inside. Mr. Wen Lei and Miss Stella have been waiting for a while.”
The spoils room was larger than Allen had imagined.
Rows of wooden shelves were neatly arranged, piled high with all sorts of items: weapons, armor, jewelry, artwork, magical artifacts.
All of these had been confiscated from Duke Marasmom and the other nobles whose estates had been seized.
Wen Lei stood in front of a rack of weapons, casually examining the swords, and gave Allen a slight nod when he came in.
Stella, on the other hand, was completely different.
Her tiny figure darted between the rows of shelves, constantly letting out gasps of “Wow,” “Oh my god,” and “This is amazing too.”
“Stella,” Allen called out.
Stella spun around sharply, her small face full of excitement. “Benefactor! Look at this! And this! And this! They’re all so cool!”
Allen gave her a once-over, then suddenly laughed.
“Stella, looks like you’ve put on a little weight.”