Azeroth Monster Manual

Violet Citadel, at the negotiating table.

“Antonidas! You have violated our previous agreement!”

Romans' eyes were bloodshot. The composure he had when he first arrived here, befitting his pampered lifestyle, was long gone. The development of events had exceeded his expectations, forcing him to personally intervene to fight for more benefits.

“Is that so? If Lord Romans has any objections, feel free to speak.”

Antonidas, on the other hand, took a light sip of the peacebloom tea at hand. The fragrance of the tea was refreshing, leaving a pleasant taste in his mouth. He couldn't help but sigh softly: Good tea.

“I will not accept these rules. We had an agreement, Archmage!”

Romans' face was contorted as he gritted his teeth, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear.

“Alas, I am not like you Quel'dorei, with your long lifespans. At my age, I am considered a senile old fool among humans.

When a person gets old, their memory deteriorates. With a poor memory, some things are easily forgotten.”

“You!”

Romans angrily pointed at Antonidas. He wanted to accuse Antonidas of being a treacherous villain, but the words caught in his throat. Accusing his opponent would only make himself look worse, wouldn't it?

“Alright, Archmage. We have already wasted too much time here. If you cannot be fully responsible for this matter, I suggest you consult with His Majesty the Sun King first.”

Antonidas smiled with great composure, but the corner of his mouth curled up into a subtle, strange arc.

“His Majesty will not agree to such an impolite request. If necessary, he will let all of Dalaran witness the wrath of Quel'dorei!”

Romans threatened, his voice sharp but lacking in substance. However, under Antonidas's playful gaze, he obediently walked out of the room, preparing to contact the Sun King.

…

“Good day, Your Majesty.”

Romans gave a slight bow to the blurry figure in the communication spell.

“Oh? Is that Romans? Is the plan progressing smoothly?”

Anasterian seemed to have just woken up. His pale golden hair was scattered somewhat messily over his shoulders, and two maids were attending to him, helping him dress.

“Your… Your Majesty, the plan has encountered a slight… problem.”

Romans struggled to raise his head, constantly wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

“Speak. A problem that even our Archmage finds棘手… troublesome, it seems to be quite serious.”

Anasterian, who had initially appeared sleepy, opened his eyes. The substantive, majestic gaze in his eyes made the already apprehensive Archmage feel as if he were walking on thin ice.

“It's like this…”

Romans suppressed the urge to prostrate himself and recounted everything that had happened in the reception hall like pouring beans out of a bamboo tube, including Aier agreeing to Antonidas's proposed magic competition.

“Why! Never mind… This is not your fault.”

Anasterian suppressed his anger. He glanced at the trembling Archmage and decided to focus on appeasement.

“Romans, temporarily hand this matter over to Kael'thas. Actually, let's proceed according to the young man from the Saronas family's wishes. You will fully assist His Highness the Prince.”

“I… But… I… As you command, Your Majesty.”

Romans suppressed the unwillingness in his heart and bowed.

As the blurry communication spell faded, the Archmage wilted like a frost-bitten eggplant.

“Why! Why! Damn Antonidas, damn Aier! Why does everyone have to oppose me? Wouldn't it be better to proceed according to the plan? You ignorant fools have no idea what you've done!”

His fair and delicate fist slammed heavily against the wall, and crimson blood slowly flowed down the corner of the wall. Romans roared in a low voice.

He, who was originally about to become great, and was destined to be great, was actually ruined by a bookworm and a lowly, inferior human. How could he not be furious?

…

After a long while, Romans composed himself, and his flushed, sickly complexion regained its rosy hue.

“Congratulations, Archmage. His Majesty has agreed to the rules you have set. The magic competition… can begin.”

“Haha, I knew His Majesty the Sun King was not a pedantic elf. Let us toast to a win-win situation for Dalaran and Silvermoon City. Cheers.”

Romans elegantly raised his goblet and drained the red wine in one gulp. He swirled the glass and exchanged a smile with Antonidas. The harmony of the scene made it seem as if the tense atmosphere just now was merely an illusion.

…

Kainael Sunfury disdainfully patted the dust off his shoes. This was a terrible experience he had never had in Quel'Thalas.

“His Highness the Prince's taste isn't very good either. Is that the Violet Citadel ahead? Heh, Antonidas's mage tower is only half as tall as Grand Magister Belo'vir's. What a bunch of paupers.”

Kainael scrutinized everything around him with a critical eye, his disdainful gaze resembling that of a nouveau riche returning to his hometown.

…

Beside the wishing well, Nielas Aran was devoutly carving something on a copper coin issued by the Kingdom of Stormwind using Mage Hand.

“I hope I can find a solution to the Kingdom of Azeroth's predicament. I hope… I… can… meet… her… again. Didn't expect you to be a sentimental fellow. By the way, who is she?”

Kainael stood behind the human mage, reading the contents of the coin word by word.

Aran was so startled that he staggered, almost dropping the unfinished coin into the wishing well. He turned around, hiding the coin in his sleeve, and glared at the elf mage with embarrassment and anger.

“Who are you? Why are you peeking at my wishing coin? Don't you know that's very rude?”

Aran said angrily.

“Don't be so presumptuous, human. This great one just happened to walk here and accidentally saw your wishing coin.”

Kainael whistled. His cynical appearance made the Archmage want to punch him in his annoying face.

However, the good education he had received since childhood made him endure it. He quickly finished the coin in his hand and carefully threw it into the wishing well.

“Oh, little mage is angry? You still haven't told me who she is?”

“It's none of your business.”

Aran ignored the annoying pest with a smile on his face. He just wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible.

“I heard that people use gold coins to make wishes, or at least silver coins. Why are you using a copper coin? Could it be that even mages are short on cash?”

Aran's face darkened as he strode away. The annoying pest behind him had hit the nail on the head, making him feel ashamed and indignant, and he just wanted to get rid of this annoying leech as soon as possible.

Originally unrelated, and even never seen before, the two strangers unknowingly walked to the notice board at the city gate amidst the chatter of the talkative elf.

The bustling crowd obscured the contents of the notice board, making Kainael and Aran a little curious.

The two of them used Eagle Eye at the same time, and the originally tiny words instantly became clear.

…

“The Twin Cities Magic Showdown will begin in three days at the Dalaran Sewer Arena. The events and rules are as follows.”

1.1 1-6 Ring Spell Invention {The new spell invented by the contestants must have a certain degree of practicality and popularity. The judges will select the 6 most destructive and functional 1-6 tier new spells}

1.2 V2 Team Competition {Limited to High Magisters}

2.3 V3 Team Competition {Limited to Archmagi}

3.1 V1 Single Competition {Limited to Grand Magisters}

The competition will adopt a point system, with each winning event counting as 1 point, and the 1V1 single competition counting as 3 points.

All contestants are requested to go to the Violet Citadel and the Silvermoon Embassy within 3 days to register. The competition participants will be screened by senior officials from both sides. Latecomers will not be entertained. The final interpretation right belongs to Dalaran and the Silvermoon Embassy.

…

Aran and Kainael stared blankly at the contents on the notice board, speechless. After a long while, Aran took advantage of the elf mage's inattention and rushed out.

“Hey, pauper, where are you going?”

Kainael looked at the departing Archmage in confusion, then slapped his head as if he had thought of something, and rushed out like a madman.

“Lord Aier, wait for me!”