Allen was more concerned about whether he had managed to save that letter.
As if he had already anticipated this, Wren handed him the fragments of paper that had been almost completely burned.
"The contents are basically gone—only the header remains…"
Allen took it. What was left of the letter was just a mold-blackened corner, barely enough to make out the elegant cursive script: To Mr. De Montmorency…
[Side Quest Unlocked]
[Side Quest Name: The Mystery of De Montmorency]
[A strange letter, a strange crest, a strange curse—there are secrets hidden within. Try to uncover the mystery of the De Montmorency family.]
[Reward: 1 random low-tier spell, +5 Agility]
Who exactly was this Mr. De Montmorency? Was there even such a person in World of Warcraft?
What could be confirmed now was that the bizarre rainy-night incident at the Pride of the Lion Inn was inseparable from the wraith summoned by that letter.
But then—what about those six drenched children he had seen that night? What about those seductive whispers he had heard?
Allen began to ponder. His hand unconsciously reached out toward the others.
The rest didn't understand what Allen was reaching for, and all turned to look at his retainer, Wren.
Wren's brow twitched faintly. Then he coughed lightly. "What is it?"
"Paper and pen."
Seeing Allen command him so naturally, a faint chill already seeped through Wren's otherwise expressionless face. Still, he turned around, rummaged through his pack, took out a stack of blank parchment and a dip pen, and handed them over.
With a few casual strokes, Allen drew a vertical eye shedding tears. It looked distinctly sinister. That eye seemed to carry some strange vitality, staring straight out from the page at whoever looked at it.
"Do any of you recognize this symbol? This was the crest on the envelope."
Everyone gathered around to examine it for a moment, then shook their heads, saying they had never seen such a crest.
Farley, however, seemed to recall something.
"I haven't seen this crest, but I've heard the surname De Montmorency. They're nobles from Stormwind. But they're quite mysterious and rarely appear in public."
Wren, on the other hand, had noticed something else. "Even though only a corner remains, this letter clearly bears traces of necromancy."
Seeing that she couldn't help here, Stella slipped away in a flash and ran downstairs to who-knows-what.
After a few more exchanges, Farley casually found an excuse to dismiss his staff, then rubbed his hands and looked at Allen awkwardly.
"Well… esteemed Mr. Prestor, while I'm truly grateful that you lifted the curse on the inn, but… your subordinate nearly burned the place down with that arrow. Every beam and plank here was built with my own hard-earned savings, so this…"
Farley looked at Allen.
Allen could only widen his eyes innocently and look at Wren.
Wren was still studying the eye Allen had drawn. Without even looking up, he casually took out a small pouch.
Clink, clink.
Just hearing the crisp sound of coins inside made Farley's eyes light up.
"Much—much better! What a shot! Excellent shot! Hero! Brave warrior! Wonderful! Thank you for saving the Pride of the Lion!"
Farley took the pouch, weighed it in his hand, instantly estimating the amount, and left the room in satisfaction—taking Allen's gaze along with him.
How much money was that?
Seeing Allen's expression, Wren suddenly spoke.
"I'll be honest. I came here to investigate this matter. If possible, I hope you can accompany me to Stormwind. I need your cooperation to continue the investigation."
Allen thought about it.
Although he had triggered the related quest and also needed to investigate this matter, helping so enthusiastically for no reason would seem suspicious, wouldn't it?
Don't misunderstand—this wasn't because he was greedy for money. This was simply to give himself a surface-level, reasonable motive that wouldn't raise suspicion.
So he raised his hand, rubbing his thumb and index finger together, then held up five fingers.
"Five…"
Before he could finish, Wren had already agreed decisively.
"Five gold it is. Here's one gold coin as a deposit. After it's done, I'll give you the remaining four."
Allen froze for a moment.
Five gold coins?
But I was going to say fifty silver coins…
Even so, he didn't hesitate at all. He caught the gold coin Wren tossed to him. The golden coin traced a perfect arc through the air and landed steadily in his palm. Its heavy weight filled him with delight.
"Deal!"
...
A carriage traveled along a tree-lined road, surrounded by quiet forest and the clear chirping of birds.
Inside the carriage, Allen looked at Stella, who was staring at him with wide azure eyes, and voiced a question from the depths of his soul: "How did she end up here?"
Wren replied as if it were only natural, "Boss Farley came to me and said this little Gnome is very reliable. She might be helpful to our investigation."
Stella nodded vigorously at the side. Her striking blue hair swayed with the motion. In her arms, she held a bulging canvas bag that jingled non-stop, filled with who-knows-how-many engineering gadgets.
Wren continued, "I took a look at her engineering creations. Quite a variety. They might come in handy. And she doesn't ask for money—just food and lodging. So I brought her along."
Isn't this obviously Farley dumping this freeloading blue-haired Gnome onto you because he couldn't stand her anymore?
But since it wasn't his money being spent, Allen had nothing to say. He even had to put on a "good job" expression.
Seeing Allen agree, Stella immediately performed a standard kneeling salute.
"Benefactor, I won't disappoint you!"
Although the carriage Wren had rented was spacious, and Stella herself was small, such a dramatic movement still made things feel cramped. She wobbled awkwardly, almost as if she were about to kiss Allen's boots.
Under Wren's teasing gaze, Allen, somewhat embarrassed, quickly helped her up.
"Uh… don't do that all the time."
Stella raised her small face, her eyes brimming with tears.
He really is… so different from other young nobles.
Not knowing what to say, Allen pulled open the curtain and leaned his head out the carriage window.
And then—
His breathing stopped.
Stormwind had arrived.
Ahead, a magnificent city sprawled between the mountains. White walls encircled the entire city, and the massive gates stood open, welcoming travelers from all directions.
At the very top rose the spires of Stormwind Keep, their golden decorations gleaming under the sunlight. Below, buildings of various districts were arranged in neat rows, their differently colored rooftops forming a warm ocean.
It was as majestic as in the game—
Yet different.
Because everything was brand new.
Many buildings were still covered in scaffolding, with craftsmen swarming over them like ants.
This was a city reborn from fire.
The carriage quickly passed through the gates of the Valley of Heroes.
Here, there was a clear difference from the World of Warcraft game…
It was empty.
There were no statues of the Five Heroes of Lothar yet.
Because this was eight years after the opening of the Dark Portal.
This was information Allen had already probed out on his first day after transmigrating here, during that dinner at the Pride of the Lion.
At this point in the timeline, the Sons of Lothar had not yet journeyed to Outland. They had not sacrificed themselves. Naturally, no statues stood here.
The Second War had just ended.
Stormwind had only just been rebuilt from ruins.
The Valley of Heroes might not even be called that yet.
The Third War had not yet broken out. The Scourge had not yet ravaged the land. Lordaeron and the northern kingdoms had not yet fallen. Dalaran had not been crushed into dust by the defiler Archimonde. Quel'Thalas of the high elves had not yet been destroyed by the Scourge.
Logically speaking, Stormwind at this time was the safest place for the next several years.
Of course, only relatively speaking.
Later, in the Cataclysm expansion, the world-ending dragon Deathwing would destroy nearly half of Stormwind, and the Park District would be completely rebuilt.
So, if one wanted to survive, the best plan would be to stay quietly in Stormwind, avoid buying a house in the Park District, and after defeating Arthas in Wrath of the Lich King, quietly move to the countryside for a while…
But—
Was that really what he wanted?
Lost in countless thoughts, the carriage passed through the city gates, entered the cobblestone streets of the Old Town, and finally stopped in front of a three-story building.
The Pig and Whistle Tavern.
The signboard depicted a grinning pink pig, with a horn-blowing sentry standing on its back. Warm light glowed from the windows, and the sounds of chatter and clinking cups came from inside.
They unloaded their luggage and walked in.
Wren had just finished ordering.
As Stella listened to the long list of dishes—honey-roasted pigeon, onion cheese soup, charcoal-grilled lionfish, herb bread pudding—her eyes lit up, and she stuck out her tongue to lick the drool at the corner of her mouth.
Before the food even arrived—
A loud bang from the next table caught Allen's attention.
Bang!
He turned his head.
At the neighboring table sat a young man who looked to be around twenty, with messy black hair. His features were still youthful, yet already carried a hint of firmness. His eyes burned with anger, and his entire demeanor was like that of an enraged young lion.
He angrily complained to the young man beside him: "Damn it! They clearly treat me like a child—they don't take me seriously at all!"
The young man beside him was slightly older, with short brown hair and a gentle face. He was pressing down on the boy's shoulder, speaking softly to calm him.
Allen's heart stirred.
That face—
That proud, furious expression—
It reminded him of a name.
Varian Wrynn.
King of Stormwind. The Lion of Humanity. High King of the Alliance.
And right now—
He was just a boy who had recently lost his father, forced to sit in a corner of the regent council, listening in silence.