Chapter 76: The One Silver Coin's Return |
Amy Marlin stared at the man before her, absolutely furious. About two months ago, it was him who had tricked her in Stormwind.
He'd made her spend a silver coin on a worthless piece of malachite.
A single silver coin wasn't much—to a mage apprentice, it wasn't even a real loss. But it was deception. She had just kindly helped him, and this was what she got in return.
That night, she tossed and turned in her dormitory, unable to sleep. She examined that piece of malachite over and over again countless times, confirming it was nothing but a genuine, common piece of worthless rock, not even worth a few copper coins.
Ever since, that detestable man had haunted her thoughts, impossible to shake.
Disheartened, her father, Archmage Marlin, had sent her to Dalaran.
Here, no one knew her. No one knew she was the foolish apprentice who'd been swindled out of a silver coin for a worthless rock.
She locked herself in the library, day after day poring over arcane texts, practicing spells that demanded intense concentration.
Her mentor said she was improving quickly, praised her exceptional talent.
But right now, Amy's long-calm Dao heart rippled. She couldn't help but sneer at him.
"Oh, isn't this the poor country boy from outside Stormwind? The one who's admired the Arcane Sanctum since childhood, dreaming of becoming a mage, but whose family was too poor to afford tuition, couldn't find anyone to recommend him, and hit dead ends everywhere he went? What a pitiful wretch!"
Allen stood there, his face a masterpiece of complex expressions.
Were these words the lies he'd made up back then? He'd certainly spun plenty of tall tales, but how could this girl remember them so vividly? Word for word, even mimicking his tone perfectly.
"I'm sorry, miss," he cleared his throat, striving to make his gaze more melancholy. "I think there must be some misunderstanding between us."
Amy looked into his eyes, and for a moment, her heart softened.
Maybe so. Maybe he really had been desperate, so desperate he had to deceive me.
Actually, one silver coin wasn't that much...
Stella immediately stepped in to defend her benefactor. She nodded vigorously, her little blue braids swinging back and forth. "Right, right! My benefactor is a noble young master from House Prestor. How could he be a farmer's kid from Stormwind? You must be mistaken!"
Allen reached out, grabbed Stella by the scruff of her neck, and lifted her up.
You money-losing gremlin—why not just tell her my full name outright?
Stella flailed in the air, her short little legs kicking wildly. "Ah! Benefactor! Brother Allen! Let me go! Let me go!"
Amy was stunned at first, then rage surged within her. He's a noble? I actually wasted my pity on him.
Then her gaze lingered on Allen's face for a moment, and suddenly something clicked.
"Oh? Your name is Allen Prestor?" There was a note of surprise in her voice. "The Alterac noble who cracked the de Montmorency family massacre case alongside King Varian?"
Allen nodded.
It was clear Amy had been in Dalaran for a while. Her news was still stuck on the newspapers from a month ago.
By now, he was the great hero who'd killed Teron Gorefiend and saved Stormwind!
Meanwhile, in Stormwind Keep's Throne Hall.
Varian Wrynn slammed the proposal to the ground. The parchment bounced twice before rolling down the steps.
"'I hope His Majesty will surround himself with the virtuous and distance himself from the petty—especially certain petty people who enjoy dabbling in dangerous magic.'" He repeated the words slowly, each syllable forced through gritted teeth.
He lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over the trembling nobles below the dais. "Why don't you speak more plainly—who is this 'petty person who enjoys dabbling in dangerous magic'?"
In the sewer, Amy's tone had softened somewhat, but she hadn't forgotten the fact that she'd been swindled. "Give me back my money."
Allen spread his hands, his expression as innocent as a newborn lamb. "Miss, everything that happened before was a misunderstanding. How can a business transaction between a willing buyer and a willing seller be called a scam?"
"You tricked me out of a silver coin with a broken piece of malachite."
"That was a fair trade, mutually agreed upon." Allen didn't even flinch. "If you really think it wasn't worth it, I can throw in some additional help."
Amy eyed him warily. "What kind of help?"
"Why don't you start by telling me why you're here?"
Amy hesitated. "I found out that Dalaran seems to have some kind of cult. They're researching... dark magic." She paused, suddenly realizing something. "Wait, why am I telling you this?"
"You're here to investigate?" Allen didn't answer her question.
Amy blinked.
Allen shook his head, his gaze sweeping over her soiled mage robe, over her messy hair, over her solitary, thin figure standing alone in the sewer.
"You see, if you hadn't run into me, you'd be dead. You came to investigate a cult without even changing your clothes. Aren't you afraid they'll suspect you're a Kirin Tor mage and you'll meet with foul play? And you're alone—sooner or later, something's going to happen to you like this."
Amy was taken aback. "Huh? But this organization is recruiting mages."
A cult recruiting mages. Allen's brow furrowed slightly.
"What are you investigating? Does it have anything to do with this symbol?"
He pulled a folded parchment from his chest and unfurled it. On it was drawn a bleeding, bloodshot eye.
Amy stared at it, stunned. "How do you know?"
"It must be fate, then." Allen tucked the parchment back into his chest, a smile curling at the corner of his lips. "I'm here for the same reason. Consider that silver coin a down payment—I'll help you investigate."
"Alright..." Amy nodded instinctively, then suddenly snapped back to reality. "Wait! What down payment? Who agreed to pay you anything?"
"We've been tracking this all the way from Stormwind." Allen's tone turned serious. "We suspect this organization has countless connections to Teron Gorefiend."
Amy's face changed color. "What? Teron Gorefiend has come to Azeroth?"
Stella grinned, popping her head out from behind Allen. "Not just that—we already killed Teron Gorefiend!"
It took Amy a moment to digest this news. She'd left Stormwind just over a month ago—what on earth had happened in that time?
Her gaze swept back and forth across the three of them: this grinning con man, this bouncing little gnome, and that paladin standing off to the side, silent the whole time, his face resolute.
You three? Killed Teron Gorefiend? This con man and this little gnome?
Her eyes finally landed on Morgan and stayed there for a long time.
That taciturn paladin, sword in hand, stood with a steady posture, his gaze sharp as a torch.
That weather-beaten face was practically screaming "justice" in bold letters.
Yeah. This guy looked reliable. Like someone who could kill Teron Gorefiend. That con man and little gnome were probably just cheering from the sidelines.
"Alright." Allen flexed his wrists. "Where are they? Let's go meet them."
Amy stopped Allen. "Wait, wait, wait. They're all gathered right now—are we just going to walk in like this? You at least look a bit like a mage, but what about these two companions of yours? They're way too suspicious!"
Allen looked at the two of them, and his eyes suddenly lit up. He snapped his fingers.
"Got it."
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