Inside the Magic Inn, Jaina Proudmoore and Arthas Menethil's royal guards all rushed forward.
They stared at Kel'Thuzad warily.
Paval stepped up first, blocking Kel'Thuzad's path.
"Who are you? Step back!"
Kel'Thuzad raised his head, his hood sliding down to reveal a pale, gaunt face.
A ring of arcane light gathered within his gray-blue eyes. The glow surged up from the depths of his pupils, growing brighter and brighter, until it became blinding.
Outside the inn, every street-facing window exploded at the exact same instant. Shards of glass blasted outward like torrential rain, tracing countless silver arcs beneath the moonlight before scattering across the ground.
Purple light burst from the windows, and the entire inn trembled violently. Screams erupted in the streets as pedestrians fled in panic.
Inside, the Arcane Explosion had reduced the inn to chaos. Tables and chairs overturned. Plates and cups shattered everywhere.
The royal guards lay sprawled across the floor.
Paval had suffered the worst of it. Standing at the very front, he had taken almost the entire force of the blast head-on.
Arthas had also shielded Jaina, but most of the damage had been absorbed by Paval. Aside from his disheveled hair and a few bloody cuts on his face from the flying glass, he was largely unharmed.
"Paval!" Jaina had no time to grieve. She raised her hand, icy-blue light gathering in her palm.
A massive Frostbolt slammed toward Kel'Thuzad, but Frost Armor manifested around him in the void, blocking the attack.
Kel'Thuzad lifted his hand and spread his fingers. A ghostly green Death Grip emerged from the void and clamped tightly around Jaina's waist.
What a beautiful face. What a lovely young girl. If he slowly drained away her life bit by bit, turning her into a frail old woman with white hair, just how exquisite would that sight be?
At that moment, Arthas picked up a fallen guard's sword and stepped forward.
His heart was pounding rapidly.
All this time, he had always felt that the Holy Light did not particularly favor him. When it answered others, it was warm and brilliant. But when it came to him, it always seemed hesitant, as though something stood in the way.
But right now, none of that mattered.
For Jaina. Please, Holy Light. Grant me your strength.
Golden radiance burst from his chest.
A blazing torrent surged out from within him, flowing along his arm and into the blade, coating the entire sword in dazzling golden light.
He swung downward. Under the impact of the holy radiance, the ghostly green Death Grip instantly shattered apart.
Jaina's body dropped downward. The moment she landed, she did not pause. As she braced herself against the floor with one hand, she had already completed the incantation for her next spell.
More than a dozen ice spikes erupted simultaneously from the ground beneath her feet. Sharp icicles lunged toward Kel'Thuzad from every direction.
Kel'Thuzad clenched his hand.
The ice spikes all halted less than a foot away from his body. Then they began to twist and bend, the dozen razor-sharp icicles compressing together into a single mass before his palm.
"Looks like you're quite fond of frost magic," Kel'Thuzad said calmly, as though evaluating a student's homework during class. "Coincidentally, I rather enjoy manipulating ice myself."
He raised his hand.
Jaina began gathering another Frostbolt, but Kel'Thuzad was faster. With a casual push, an invisible force hurled her entire body backward. She crashed into the leg of an overturned table and curled up in pain.
Arthas charged forward with his sword.
Kel'Thuzad did not even glance at him. He merely pointed a finger in Arthas's direction.
Frost spread upward from Arthas's boots, freezing both his feet firmly to the shattered wooden floorboards.
Kel'Thuzad sneered as he walked toward Jaina, looking at the blonde girl curled up beside the table leg. Her pale face was reflected in his gray-blue eyes.
Tasha's Hideous Laughter!
[Saving Throw: Success]
"Stop!"
Allen's voice rang out, and Jaina looked up in surprise.
She saw Allen standing across the street with a cat in his arms, shouting loudly: "Kel'Thuzad, your cat is with me. I suggest you don't do anything reckless!"
The moment Allen realized Jaina was in danger, he had rushed toward the inn without stopping, alternating between running and Dimension Door.
Morgan and Stella, with their short little legs, had long since been left far behind.
Emmy barely managed to keep up for a few streets by relying on Blink, but in the end, she still stopped at an intersection, bracing herself against her knees as she gasped for breath, staring in disbelief at the figure growing farther and farther away.
His Blink was both farther and more frequent than hers, yet he showed absolutely no signs of running low on mana.
Just how deep were his magical reserves?
As for Mr. Bigglesworth—
Allen had discovered the cat beneath the eaves across from the inn.
Kel'Thuzad had probably believed no one would ever suspect that the Siamese cat hiding beneath the roof was the most important thing in his life.
Nor could he possibly have imagined that Allen was intimately familiar with his Mr. Bigglesworth.
Kel'Thuzad stared at the cat, and something shattered within his gray-blue eyes.
Only for an instant.
Then the fragments were pieced back together, reconstructed into a cold, rigid mask.
Kel'Thuzad looked toward the man. Though his appearance had changed, from his bearing and mannerisms alone, he recognized him instantly.
Ner'zhul.
The corners of his mouth curled into a smile. "Fine. Go ahead. You can kill it. I don't care."
He paused, his gaze shifting away from the cat and settling on Jaina's pale face. "I can resurrect Mr. Bigglesworth. Forever and ever, he will remain by my side. But what about you? Would you be willing for your beloved to become undead and stay with you for eternity?"
Under normal circumstances, hearing those words probably would have secretly delighted Jaina.
But now, her golden hair hung in disarray, stained with blood. She lifted her pale neck and stared at Kel'Thuzad, her eyes filled with nothing but hatred.
Seeing that Kel'Thuzad had completely descended into madness, Allen could only try to placate him.
"Alright, alright, wait a second, wait a second. I'm not going to hurt your cat. I have a suggestion for you."
Kel'Thuzad sneered. He raised his hand, and an ice spike pressed against Jaina's throat. Beads of blood had already begun seeping from her skin. She was terrified, but she bit her lip and made no sound.
"And why should I listen to you?" Kel'Thuzad's voice was very soft.
Allen took a deep breath, and his voice suddenly became calm.
"Because I know what you want."
Tasha's Hideous Laughter!
[Saving Throw: Success]
"Just admit it, Kel'Thuzad." Allen's voice was light, as though he were merely stating an insignificant fact. "You're just jealous of me."
Kel'Thuzad's eyes turned cold.
"You're jealous that whether as a mage or as a necromancer, I'm more talented than you. More exceptional than you. You're jealous that Araj and the others admired me more and worshipped me more. You're jealous that the founder of the Cult of the Damned was me—not you."
Kel'Thuzad's chest heaved violently once. "That's bullshit."
"Just admit it." Allen lowered his head and looked at the gray-blue Siamese cat in his arms.
His fingers scratched beneath the cat's chin, and Mr. Bigglesworth—already completely won over by Animal Friendship—rubbed affectionately against Allen's palm.
"You see? Even your cat likes me a little more."
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