Stormwind Keep, Throne Room.
Varian sat upon the throne atop the high dais, clad in the blue-and-gold ceremonial robes of Stormwind's royal house, a crown symbolizing royal authority resting upon his head.
Sunlight poured through the towering stained-glass windows, casting mottled patterns of light and shadow across him.
That youthful face was now filled with solemnity and authority, utterly different from the boy who had hidden in a tavern drinking his sorrows away just a month ago.
Below the steps, the assembled officials stood in silence.
Dukes, counts, and viscounts, dressed in splendid attire, stood in order according to rank; behind them were officials and lesser nobles.
Allen stood at the very end of the line, mingling among low-ranking nobles and clerks.
"The final item on today's agenda," Varian's voice echoed through the hall, "is the announcement of a new appointment—"
He paused, his gaze passing over the crowd before settling on that corner.
"Stormwind formally appoints Allen Prestor as Royal Arcane Advisor!"
A wave of murmurs rippled through the hall.
During this period, Allen had been staying in Stormwind Keep, and for no other reason than because Varian had agreed to this matter.
Royal Arcane Advisor—he was starting to look more and more like a true archmage.
When the council adjourned, some nobles were still whispering among themselves.
"Royal Arcane Advisor? What a joke. He's not even a mage, yet he gets to be a magic advisor?"
Another voice chimed in, "Hahaha, if anything, he's more like a black magic advisor."
"Speaking of which, wasn't the Book of Medivh stolen?" a third voice added. "Wouldn't be surprising if that black wizard took it! Who else could it be?"
"Exactly. Isn't he from the Kingdom of Alterac?"
Hearing these nobles' chatter by chance, Allen's face immediately darkened.
Varian had just seen off several ministers, and when he turned back, he saw Allen's expression. He froze for a moment, then quickly walked over.
"What's wrong?"
Allen didn't answer. He simply stared at those departing figures.
"What are their names?"
Varian looked at him in surprise. "Don't tell me—you're actually planning to do something?"
Even so, Varian still told him their names.
Allen sneered inwardly.
Heh.
Tonight, I'll visit your dreams.
Let you see what real evil looks like.
Yes, the Book of Medivh had indeed been stolen.
Varian and the others all suspected that Katrana Prestor had taken it.
But Allen knew the truth.
The moment he saw that Alterac crest, he remembered.
It was the "Mad King," Aiden Perenolde.
That ambitious king of Alterac had long since sent people to steal the Book of Medivh, even arrogantly leaving behind his own crest.
In the original course of history, Teron Gorefiend had also come up empty-handed—the artifact he sought had already been taken by the people of Alterac.
But the problem was…
Alterac was now completely under Deathwing's control.
That old black dragon, wearing the identity of "Lord Daval Prestor," was manipulating the entire kingdom in the palm of his hand.
Once he discovered it himself, the Book of Medivh would fall into Deathwing's hands—no different from being lost already.
Allen rubbed his temples.
In that case, the Scepter of Sargeras lay somewhere in the Great Sea, hidden within the perilous Tomb of Sargeras.
If they wanted to stop the Horde's plans, their best option would be to go to Dalaran and protect the Eye of Dalaran there.
At the very least, they must not allow the Horde to gather all three artifacts.
After the council ended, Varian hurried off to prepare for the investiture ceremony, while Allen made his way alone toward the SI:7 office.
Varian was also going to award honors to the heroes of that battle today. As a paladin of Stormwind, Morgan Ladimore was naturally among those to be decorated.
Those being honored today would also receive a full set of high-grade knight's armor.
Morgan's previous armor had been painstakingly forged over many years through his family's frugality, so these past few days he had been too excited to sleep.
After the battle, Wren had written several letters—some sent north, others south.
All four of them had been rewarded by the Wrynn royal family with five gold coins each. The reason Stormwind had suddenly become so generous was because they had just confiscated the estates of Malathrom and a number of other nobles, greatly enriching the treasury.
By the time Allen finished thinking this through, he had already arrived at the SI:7 office.
He pushed the door open.
Dim yellow light illuminated the simple furnishings—several tables and chairs, a few filing cabinets, and a large map of Stormwind hanging on the wall.
Shaw sat behind a desk, holding a cup of tea.
He looked up and saw Allen, a strained smile appearing on his gaunt face.
"You finally came." His voice was hoarse, unable to hide his exhaustion. "We've been waiting for you."
The reason Allen had come here was because, after the confiscations, Varian had promised that each of them could freely choose one item from the seized treasures.
In addition to that, Varian had been dangling something in front of Allen, saying he had prepared a big surprise for him.
Allen sat across from Shaw, sizing up the young spymaster.
Shaw had grown much thinner.
Allen knew why.
Because he had failed to stop Katrana, allowing the king to fall into danger—that was dereliction of duty.
Worse still, Shaw had been unconscious the entire time and hadn't even made it to the final battle, let alone redeem himself.
If not for his personal relationship with Varian, he would likely have already been dismissed from his position as head of SI:7.
"Come on," Shaw stood up and took a ring of keys from the wall. "I'll take you to the evidence room."
He led Allen through several corridors, past layers of guards, and finally stopped in front of a heavy iron door.
Three locks hung on the door, each requiring a different key.
Shaw opened them with practiced ease and pushed the door open.
"It's all inside. Mr. Wren and Miss Stella have been waiting for quite a while."
The evidence room was larger than Allen had imagined.
Rows of wooden racks were neatly arranged, filled with all kinds of items—weapons, armor, jewelry, artworks, magical objects.
All of these had been confiscated from Malathrom and the other nobles.
Wren stood before a rack of weapons, casually looking over the swords and blades. When he saw Allen enter, he merely gave a slight nod.
Stella, however, was completely different.
Her small figure darted back and forth between the shelves, constantly exclaiming "Wow," "Oh my," and "This one's amazing too!"
"Stella," Allen called.
Stella suddenly turned around, her little face full of excitement. "Benefactor! Look at this! And this! And this! They're all incredible!"
Allen looked her up and down, then suddenly smiled.
"Stella… you seem to have gotten a bit chubbier."
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