He could sense the Arcane energy—those azure, flowing currents of energy. They were not ignoring him. They simply couldn't reach him.
Of course, he wasn't sure whether this affinity had always been his, or if it was the result of that fleeting glance he had received the day he became a Wild Sorcerer.
Although forcing those shadowy energies to back off was extremely difficult—so taxing it drained him heavily—and even with everything he had, he could only carve out the tiniest gap… under that kind of pressure, even if he managed to open a path, casting spells through it was still incredibly hard.
But at least now there was hope. Allen's heart surged with excitement.
I can learn arcane magic. I'm a bona fide archmage!
Without a doubt, he was strongly urged to remain in Dalaran for further study. Krasus would personally instruct him, while Antonidas would personally teach Jaina.
After dealing with the aftermath of everything, Antonidas had them escorted to the most luxurious magical hotel in Dalaran, located on the busiest street in the Violet Citadel district. From the window, they could see Dalaran's Violet Citadel itself.
Jaina followed behind, but her mind wasn't on any of that.
She was secretly thinking about how to bring it up naturally—how she could arrange to stay in the room next to Allen.
"Miss Jaina."
Allen's voice came from ahead, interrupting her thoughts.
"I've safely brought you to Dalaran. You've also successfully enrolled—" he turned around, wearing a relaxed smile, "from now on, you're officially a Dalaran mage apprentice. What Varian asked me to do, I've completed."
Jaina parted her lips slightly. The words she had rehearsed countless times were right there—
"Then this is where we part."
Allen finished speaking and turned to leave.
He didn't even give her a chance to respond.
His figure disappeared from sight without a trace of hesitation.
Jaina stood there, an indescribable bitterness rising in her chest.
He left.
Just like that.
Not even… not even one extra word.
She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the small pouch at her waist.
The drawstring had already become frayed from how often she had rubbed it. She had never been willing to replace it.
Jaina stood there in a daze for a long time. Then, footsteps sounded from the stairs.
Someone was coming down.
She looked up.
A young man descended the final steps.
He wore a fitted coat, with the royal crest of Lordaeron embroidered at the collar and cuffs. His golden hair was neatly trimmed, a few loose strands falling across his forehead, making his youthful face appear even more radiant.
Arthas Menethil.
He stepped onto the last stair, and his gaze met Jaina's.
His eyes paused for a moment.
"Miss," his voice was young and gentle, "judging by your belongings, you've just arrived in Dalaran?"
"Oh—oh, hello."
She replied.
The response didn't match the question at all—she was clearly distracted.
Arthas stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the girl before him.
Sunlight streamed in through the arched windows of the inn, slanting across her golden hair, turning it into a warm halo of light.
Her eyes were bluer than any lake he had seen in Lordaeron, bluer than any sea—no, bluer than the sea, bluer than the sky, deeper than any shade of blue he had ever known.
In that instant, he felt something quietly burst open in his chest, like the first spark in a winter hearth—small, yet enough to warm his entire heart.
He had never felt anything like this before.
"Dalaran is a beautiful city," he heard himself say, his voice softer than expected. "If… you don't mind, I could show you around. The magical fountains, the floating gardens, and that tower where they say you can see all of Dalaran…"
He paused, smiling a little awkwardly. "Of course, if you already have company, just pretend I didn't say anything."
His fingers tightened slightly before relaxing again. His heart was beating fast, but he tried to keep his smile composed.
He was the prince of Lordaeron. He should be composed.
But Jaina's thoughts had already drifted away.
Where did he go? Dalaran is so big—would she ever see him again?
The pouch still hung at her waist. Why had he given it to her?
Was it just something he handed over casually, or did it mean something more? And if it did—what did it mean?
Would they have a future?
"I am Arthas Menethil. May I know your name?"
"Oh—hello."
Jaina nodded mechanically, then walked right past Arthas toward her room.
Arthas stood there, stunned, unsure of what had just happened, a hollow feeling settling in his chest.
…Was that atmosphere just my imagination?
...
At the entrance to Dalaran's sewers, Allen crouched down as a group of rats chattered noisily in front of him.
"Down there?"
"Down there! Down there!"
"Big eyes! Bleeding!"
"Scary! Scary!"
Allen nodded repeatedly, then took out another piece of cheese from his pocket, breaking it into crumbs and scattering it on the ground.
Found you.
The rats hiding in the sewers.
After Allen and Morgan finished putting down their luggage, they went out and bought a large amount of cheese. Using "Speak with Animals", they bribed a whole swarm of rats, asking them to search all of Dalaran for that bleeding eye symbol.
Now, those rats had led them to the entrance of a sewer passage.
Allen stood up and looked at the pitch-black opening. Damp air blew out from within, carrying an indescribable stench.
Stella hesitated, her expression troubled. "Benefactor… are we really going down there?"
Allen nodded. "Of course. Isn't this exactly what we came for?"
Morgan gripped his Archeus, his face resolute. "To think that evil still lurks beneath Dalaran—we cannot ignore it."
Several rats tugged hard at Allen's pant leg, urgently trying to get him to follow. Allen let out a breath. "Let's go."
Dalaran's sewers were far larger than they had imagined. It was practically an underground city. Vaulted ceilings stretched high overhead; in some places, the tunnels were wide enough for two carriages to travel side by side, while in others, they narrowed so much that only one person could squeeze through sideways.
Occasionally, a magical wall lamp flickered on the walls, but most were long neglected. Their dim, wavering light stretched the group's shadows into long, distorted shapes that twisted across the mottled stone.
They stepped carefully through the water, moving slowly with each step.
Morgan walked at the front, sword raised, his gaze sweeping vigilantly across every dark corner.
Stella followed closely behind Allen, constantly looking down at the brand-new boots she had just bought in Dalaran, her small face filled with distress.
The rats, however, seemed to have returned to their natural domain. They hopped about in the water, leaping from one stone platform to another.
They passed by an abandoned portal. The runes on its frame were still intact, but whatever lay beyond had collapsed into ruins.
They also passed a massive mural depicting the founding of Dalaran, though most of the paint had peeled away, leaving only a few vague silhouettes and half of a tower.
As they turned a corner, the wall beside them suddenly exploded.
A slime creature squeezed out from a hole in the wall.
Its body was entirely emerald green and semi-transparent, with all sorts of strange objects suspended inside it—a rusted dagger, shards of glass, several moldy copper coins, and someone's discarded boot.
It stared at them for three seconds.
Then it opened its mouth and spat out a rusted dagger.
It glanced at the dagger again, apparently feeling that the threat wasn't sufficient, so it tried harder—only to spit out a string of bubbles.
Enraged with embarrassment, it lunged at them, its speed far faster than expected.
The rats scattered in fear. Allen drew Xal'atath.
Magic Missile!
Five or six purple missiles streaked through the air, trailing brilliant, shimmering tails. They arced gracefully and struck the slime without missing a single shot.
Boom—!
Several holes blasted open in the slime's body. Green goo splattered everywhere as it rolled twice on the ground, coughed up a filthy bag from within itself, then scrambled back into the hole in the wall and disappeared.
Allen picked up the bag, wiped off the slime, and a system panel popped up.
[Strange Bag]
[Quality: Fine]
[This bag doesn't look large, yet it can hold objects far bigger than its apparent size. Not only that, items placed inside seem to undergo some… peculiar changes.]
Allen raised an eyebrow and immediately tested it. He pulled out the short sword he had brought from Goldshire and carefully slipped it into the bag.
The moment it went in, the short sword transformed into a copper coin.
Allen lifted the bag—there was no sense of weight at all.
He poured the coin back out.
As it fell, it transformed back into the short sword, clanging onto the ground.
Everyone looked at each other.
Allen felt a bit guilty. This was… a good item.
Unfortunately, with everyone watching, he couldn't exactly pocket it shamelessly. He coughed twice. "This is a good item. Do you guys want it?"
Morgan shook his head. He hadn't followed Allen for treasure.
Stella also shook her head, smiling foolishly. "My good things can stay with you, benefactor."
The rats gathered again, tugging anxiously at Allen and urging him forward. With no choice, he stuffed the bag into his pocket for now.
"Let's go, let's go! This way, this way!"
"Almost there! Almost there!"
"The scary eye! It's just ahead!"
They turned another corner, and a narrower passage appeared before them.
At the end of the passage was a lamp. Beneath it crouched a figure, sneaking against the wall, seemingly spying on something.
She wore a mage's robe, stained in several places. Her long brown hair was tied messily behind her head.
She seemed to hear the movement behind her and suddenly turned around.
It was a young face, with a few smudges of dirt across it.
The moment she saw Allen, her eyes widened.
"It's you!" She pointed at him with a trembling finger. "The bastard who scammed me with malachite!"
Allen looked at her and recognized her.
Emmy Malin?
'Alright, let me think. I'm in a foreign land, just came out of the sewers, and ran into a girl I once scammed… what am I supposed to do here?'
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