Wayne explained the general situation, going so far as to mention an arena gladiator named Lo'Gosh.
"What?! You mean the key to finding His Majesty the King is a man who is wandering around participating in arena duels?"
"And we can't even directly step in to bring him back? We have to wait until the day he is sent to Theramore to find the final clue?"
Facing Mathias's doubts, Wayne responded only with a nod.
But Mathias was clearly dissatisfied with such a passive approach. What he could least accept right now was wasting time; the longer it dragged on, the more pressure the House of Nobles would put on him, and the more his actions would be constrained.
Wayne knew this, but he pointed out the core of the issue: "Unless you deploy an army deep into the heart of the Horde to forcibly surround and capture him, it is fundamentally impossible to bring him and his two arena teammates back with just a small squad."
"But if you really send troops, you can imagine the overwhelming pressure that would come from the Horde, while the House of Nobles would only take the opportunity to kick you while you're down."
"However, it's not as if there are no ways to speed up the process. Besides seeking help from Theramore as I mentioned, you can also send someone to Darnassus. If their people are willing to step in and communicate with the Night Elf Druid in that arena team, it will save a lot of effort watching them wander across the continent."
"Remember, the key to persuasion is helping that man recover his lost memories. Other than that, he wants for nothing right now—he's even willing to stay like this forever, being an invincible gladiator."
Mathias thought for a moment. "I will send someone to handle the persuasion."
"What about Master Genedo? He would be a good candidate."
Mathias had no time to recount the old story of spying on the net cafe that night. He continued, "I will verify the accuracy of your news regarding Windsor. It won't take long."
Wayne: "He has been trapped in the prophecy of that time spell for too long. Perhaps when your people find him in the caverns beneath Blackrock Mountain, he may not even be willing to escape with them."
Mathias: "If everything checks out, I will pass your words to him. I'll tell him to stop obsessing over those two so-called clue tablets."
At this moment, the Master Rogue thought to himself: Windsor actually wants to enter Blackrock Mountain to deal with the Black Dragon using two tablets covered in Draconic, just to free himself from Medivh's prophecy? This guy must be crazy!
But regardless of whether he possesses key clues as this kid says, we must rescue him as soon as possible.
Perhaps when he returns, he can convince Bolvar to abandon those foolishly conservative orders and stay away from that repulsive, stupid woman.
Wayne sensed Mathias's doubts, but he couldn't yet tell him the fact that a Black Dragon had already infiltrated the core levels of Stormwind.
The time was not yet ripe. There was neither evidence nor leverage. Moreover, given Mathias's style, if he knew the truth prematurely, he would rather expose himself than fail to take immediate action to get his allies and partners in Stormwind Keep out of danger.
However, neither now nor in the future could the Kingdom of Stormwind or the Alliance afford to lose this legendary Master Rogue.
Everything that needed to be said had been said. Outside the window, the sun seemed to be gathering its strength, rising from the eastern horizon. A glimmer representing rebirth pierced through the hazy night.
Mathias stood up from the bench in the Gathering Hall. He had already observed some slight differences between Wayne's game world and the real world.
For instance, he and Wayne had sat here for over two hours, and the people appearing in their field of vision had never changed.
Vendors without customers kept hawking their wares. Occasionally, a few adventurers from afar would appear, walk the same path once, and then leave, only to reappear after a while, repeating the cycle endlessly.
But it was precisely this that made him feel a sense of dread.
If it were truly a teleportation to another real world through a portal, he wouldn't think much of it—it would just be different races, different landscapes, and different creatures.
But this world before him was half-real and half-fake. Everything in it was so vivid, yet it continued to operate with an absurd falseness.
Mathias naturally didn't know there was a profession called "programmer." In his understanding, these lifelike dolls seemed to be controlled by the Creator who made this world.
And Wayne, who could enter and leave at will, was naturally this Creator.
He couldn't help but think: Is there such a Creator in the world where I live? And am I, like these lifelike dolls, actually the same kind of existence?
Mathias didn't have time to dwell on these existential horrors. He exited the game, took off the glasses, and began channeling his Hearthstone.
A flash of green light followed, and his figure vanished completely.
Only then did a surge of drowsiness hit Wayne. He lay down directly on the gaming chair and fell asleep.
"Everyone will abandon you..."
"Look around you... they will all betray you."
"Release your hatred, vent your rage!"
"All truths are revealed. Our fates are one. Your heart, your devotion—all dreams will come true."
Fragments of speech echoed in Wayne's ears. It seemed to be one person, yet also felt like several people whispering to him. These voices didn't seem to come through his ears but rather drilled directly into his soul. Even covering his ears couldn't stop them from their repetitive chanting.
Just as fear gripped him, a giant mouth lined with jagged, crisscrossing teeth opened before him. Inside that mouth grew countless smaller mouths, and within each smaller mouth sat a rotating eyeball!
A moment later, writhing tentacles slowly extended from the pupils of those eyeballs. The sight made his skin crawl and cold sweat pour down.
Then, purple humanoid illusions appeared—Humans, Gnomes, Orcs, Trolls—every race was represented. They all knelt toward that blood-red maw in worship and prayer...
Wayne blinked again, only to find the giant mouth suddenly swallowing him whole!
"AAAHHH!!!"
With a scream, Wayne woke from his dream.
"Boss! Boss, what's wrong?!"
"Teacher, what happened?"
"Damn, you gave us a huge fright. That must have been a nightmare..."
Only then did Wayne see that he was still lying on that gaming chair. The net cafe was already full. Tess, Raymun, and the Westbrook quartet were surrounding him, looking at his sweat-soaked shirt.
Looking at the sunlight outside the window, he had actually slept until near dusk...
"It's nothing... just a nightmare..." Wayne rose slowly, the images from the dream still flickering like afterimages before his eyes.
He walked out of the net cafe, returned to his room to wash up, and changed his clothes.
Could that be the whispers of the Old Gods?
Even a transmigrator like me can be influenced by it?
While he was thinking, there was a knock on the door. It was the mailman from the town.
Wayne opened the door and took the letter. He opened it with a hint of confusion, wondering who would send him mail.
Inside the envelope was a contract that wasn't particularly long. A few lines read:
"Commissioned by the employer to act as an agent for the rental of the house and land at No. 76, Northwest Block, Goldshire."
"Both parties shall negotiate subsequent matters six months before the contract expires."
"The Trias Cheese Shop, Stormwind City."