Chapter 27: Ai-chan's Reward

Deren’s consciousness drifted within an infinite galaxy.

Beneath him rotated Azeroth, its azure oceans and lush continents shrouded in a soft, silvery glow. A torrent of starlight flowed around him, as if the very essence of time could be touched with a reach of his hand.

"Not bad, little bomber~"

A crisp, feminine voice echoed from behind. Deren turned to see the girl with silver hair and starry eyes—the avatar of Azeroth’s world-soul—floating in mid-air, her bare feet adorned with delicate ribbons of light wrapped around slender ankles.

"Ai-chan?!" Deren blurted out the nickname he had coined for her in private.

The world-soul puffed out her cheeks. "I told you that sounds awful... never mind." Suddenly, she spread her arms and collided with Deren like a tiny cannonball.

The hug carried a warmth beyond imagination. Deren felt countless streams of starlight seeping into his veins; his bones hummed softly, and his muscle fibers reorganized on a microscopic level. By the time she let go, a translucent golden seed mark had appeared in his palm.

"It’s not quite on the level of those demigods, but at least..." Ai-chan poked his bicep, "you can now catch an orc's axe with your bare hands."

Two strands of starlight suddenly split away, solidifying into objects in her palm—two archaic gold coins. The obverse featured the silhouette of Azeroth, while the reverse displayed shifting Draconic runes.

"For those two troublemakers." She flicked the coins into the void. "Lucky coins. I’ve blessed them personally; they’re perfect for people who are always courting death."

Deren was about to offer his thanks when the galaxy before him twisted.

"Wait!" he shouted in a panic. "What should I do next—"

"Go back to sleep!" Ai-chan made a face and kicked him out of the astral realm.

—

Deren jolted awake, his pajamas soaked in cold sweat.

Morning light spilled through the gap in the curtains. He stared blankly at his palm—the golden seed mark was slowly fading beneath his skin. On the small table by the bed, two archaic gold coins gleamed with a strange luster in the sunlight.

He tried clenching his fist, and the air between his fingers crackled with a faint, explosive pop.

"Ha!" Deren sprang up in a kip-up, only to smash his head against the ceiling with a loud *thud*.

As he crouched, clutching his forehead, he heard a cold snort from the balcony next door.

"Human, tearing down the house at the crack of dawn?"

Deren grimaced as he pushed open the French doors to see the Black Dragon Princess leaning against the ornate railing of the adjacent balcony. She was wearing a silk robe in the Theramore style, a rarity; droplets of water still clung to her blonde hair, clearly indicating she had just bathed.

"Ahem, I have a gift for you—" Deren grabbed a coin and tossed it over.

Onyxia caught it in mid-air. The moment the coin touched her skin, the Draconic runes on its surface flared. Her pupils constricted. "This is..."

"A lucky coin. Once you wear it—"

"—you get super lucky." Onyxia rubbed the coin's surface, her eyes suddenly narrowing. "Given by that person?" She gestured toward the earth below.

Before Deren could answer, a scream erupted from the garden downstairs:

"My gold coin!!!"

The two looked down to see the bronze dragon gnome staring intently at the other coin in Deren’s hand.

"Give it to me, give it to me!" Chromie jumped up and down, waving her arms.

Deren smiled and tossed the second lucky coin down to the little gnome.

Chromie caught the coin and touched it excitedly over and over. She gave it a gentle bite, and the runes lit up right before her nose, bathing her face in a golden glow.

"Whoa!" she cheered indistinctly. "Now I won't get lost when I time-travel!"

Deren and Onyxia exchanged a glance and simultaneously covered their faces.

After some lighthearted banter, Deren sat on the terrace of the Theramore inn, enjoying his breakfast.

Golden-fried ham sizzled on his plate, served with swamp berries pickled in dwarven spirits and drizzled with a spoonful of honey—a "Hero’s Combo" prepared by the Theramore chef per Jaina's instructions.

Onyxia sat opposite him, toying with her lucky coin. It flipped between her fingers, occasionally refracting a beam of gold onto her thoughtful face.

Chromie crouched on the railing like a curious sparrow, nibbling on bread while studying the runes on her coin.

"So, this thing really increases luck?" she tilted her head. "If I go buy a lottery ticket now, will I—"

Before she could finish, Onyxia’s body suddenly stiffened.

The coin slipped from her fingers, bounced twice on the wooden table, and eerily wedged itself into a crack.

"Nefarian." Her voice turned to ice. "He’s here."

Deren’s fork froze in mid-air. "What? Now?"

Onyxia’s golden slit pupils narrowed to thin lines. "He’s in Dustwallow Marsh—inspecting the explosion site."

—

Chromie’s bread dropped to the ground. "We're doomed! If he finds any clues—after all, he’s a pure-blooded black dragon."

Deren stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor.

"Teleport, quick!" He grabbed Chromie’s wrist. "We’re going to the site now!"

Chromie scrambled to pull out her pocket watch, grabbing Onyxia’s sleeve with her other hand. "Hold on tight! No time to calibrate the landing precision this time—"

*Whoosh!*

The three figures vanished instantly, though Onyxia didn't forget to snatch her lucky coin off the table before disappearing.

Onyxia’s brother, Nefarian, stood atop the scorched earth, his dark red armor gleaming with a cold, metallic luster under the blazing sun.

His dragon claws traced the massive gullies in the rock wall—the blast marks disguised as black dragon claw marks. A faint residual energy lingered at his fingertips, causing him to frown.

"This isn't right..."

As the Black Dragonflight’s most brilliant scientist, Nefarian’s sensitivity to energy fluctuations was far beyond that of an ordinary being. Deep within these "claw marks," there seemed to be a pattern of destruction that... did not belong to the dragonkin.

He crouched, pinched a bit of ash from the scorched earth, and sniffed it.

"Saltpeter? Sulfur?" His brow furrowed deeper. "This smells like—fertilizer?"

"What are you doing here so early?"

A familiar, cold voice came from behind.

Nefarian turned slowly to see Onyxia stepping out of a golden rift, followed by Deren and the bronze dragon gnome.

His sister was dressed in simple travel attire today, her black hair tied up high, but strangely, she wasn't wearing the runic sword of the Black Dragonflight at her waist. Even stranger, she was radiating a certain...

Aura of luck?

Nefarian’s dragon eyes narrowed. "Sister, you look... different."

Onyxia sneered, kicking a charred piece of elementium with her boot tip. "Father just blew my lair to the sky. What do you expect me to look like?"

Nefarian scanned the three of them: they didn't seem particularly saddened by their father flattening the swamp. Instead, there was a faint, hidden arrogance.

The corner of his mouth curled up slowly. "Interesting."

Nefarian’s gaze swept back and forth between them, finally settling on Onyxia.

"So," his voice was low and slow, "Father came all the way to Dustwallow Marsh just to blow up your fertilizer factory?"

Onyxia crossed her arms, her expression indifferent. "He’s very dissatisfied with my 'lack of proper pursuits'."

Nefarian raised an eyebrow. "And then you fought?"

"And then I won."

The air went still for a moment.

Nefarian’s mouth twitched; he was clearly skeptical of the answer. He crouched down, his fingertips tracing the burn marks on the ground again, his pupils contracting—these marks were too uniform; they didn't look like dragon claw tears, but rather like some kind of directional demolition.

Seeing this, Deren immediately stepped forward, his face full of smiles. "Your Highness! Actually, it happened like this—"

Just as he was about to weave a story, Nefarian’s gaze fell to Onyxia’s waist—the lucky coin had slipped halfway out of her pocket, glinting with a faint golden light in the sun.

*Hum—*

The runes on the coin flashed softly.

Nefarian’s eyes glazed over for an instant, his brow smoothing out as if an invisible force had interfered with his judgment.

"...Father does indeed hate these 'mortal tricks'." He muttered to himself, as if convincing himself.

Chromie keenly sensed the change and immediately struck while the iron was hot. "Yeah, yeah! Lord Deathwing was so angry! He slammed his claw down, BOOM!!!" She gestured wildly with her hands. "And then Sister Onyxia landed a beautiful spinning kick—"

"Chromie." Onyxia interrupted her coldly.

But Nefarian seemed genuinely led astray. He stood up, brushed the dust off his armor, and nodded thoughtfully. "So, Father felt you were obsessed with the fertilizer business and were a disgrace to the Black Dragonflight?"

"That’s right." Onyxia didn't blink.

"And then he came to teach you a lesson, only to be wounded by you instead?"

"Uh-huh."

Nefarian watched her silently for a few seconds, then suddenly—

"Ha!"

He laughed out loud.

"Brilliant, sister." He shook his head, his tone actually carrying a hint of admiration. "I should have known—Father has become increasingly paranoid over the years; even I think he needs to be taught a lesson."

Deren: "..."

Chromie: "..."

Onyxia: "..."

The effect of the lucky coin seemed a bit ridiculously potent.

Nefarian didn't even press further about the strange blast marks; he simply patted his sister on the shoulder (Onyxia suppressed the urge to dodge), his tone relaxed. "Since Father won't be bothering us for a while, then the fertilizer business... can it continue?"

Deren blinked, reacting quickly. "Of course! And we’re actually planning to expand!"

"Very good." Nefarian nodded with satisfaction. "Blackrock Mountain has all the volcanic sulfur you could ever need."

Chromie poked Deren in the back, whispering, "Does this coin have a 'lower intelligence' stat?"

Deren lowered his voice. "Shh... don't ask, just enjoy it."

On the scorched earth of Dustwallow Marsh, a breeze kicked up fine ash. Nefarian stood with his back to the giant crater, his dark red cape fluttering in the heat waves, his fingertips tapping rhythmically against his vambraces with a crisp, metallic sound.

"So, Father is currently severely injured and has fled back to Deepholm, so he won't be appearing anytime soon?"

Onyxia’s expression didn't change; she merely nodded slightly.

Nefarian narrowed his eyes, seemingly weighing the value of the information. His gaze swept over Deren, glanced at Chromie, and returned to his sister’s face.

"And our fertilizer business... can continue?"

Deren caught the key word in that sentence—"our."

He cleared his throat, took a half-step forward, and wore a merchant’s shrewd smile. "Of course, Your Highness. In fact, now is the perfect time to scale up."

Nefarian raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Deren’s eyes shone with shrewdness. "You see, with Lord Deathwing temporarily... well, recuperating, the Black Dragonflight will inevitably need some adjustments. As his eldest son, you should naturally be the one in charge at Blackrock Mountain, right?"

Nefarian nodded slightly, clearly satisfied with this positioning.

"But the fertilizer business is, after all, a 'small industry.' It would be beneath you to manage it personally." Deren lowered his voice. "Why not... convert it into shares? We’ll keep the same operating model!"

Nefarian narrowed his eyes. "Convert into shares, 10% like last time?"

"That is, you provide the resources, we handle the operations, and you collect your dividends." Deren rubbed his fingers. "For example, volcanic sulfur from Blackrock Mountain, orc laborers... just allocate a portion, and we’ll divide the profits proportionally."

Nefarian was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled. "Sounds good. But if Father wakes up and investigates this matter..."

Onyxia interrupted coldly, "It has nothing to do with you; just tell him to come find me."

Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the lucky coin at her waist, the runes flashing slightly. Nefarian’s gaze fell on the coin, his eyes glazing over for a second before he nodded. "Fine."

Deren struck while the iron was hot. "There’s one more small matter—Theramore is now our important partner. Lady Jaina is very interested in the business; the site, personnel, and transportation all depend on her. But she needs some... political leverage."

Nefarian raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

"For instance, the Kul Tirans captured by the orcs during the Second War." Deren lowered his voice. "I heard that many prisoners are still being held in the Lower Blackrock Spire? It’s been so many years anyway, and those people are of no use. Why not trade them for something practical?"

A playful glint flashed in Nefarian’s eyes. "You want me to 'rescue' them and hand them over to Jaina as a favor?"

"Mutual benefit, win-win." Deren’s smile was radiant. "You gain Theramore’s friendship, we gain stable sales channels, and Jaina gains political prestige... a triple win."

Nefarian watched Deren silently, then suddenly burst into laughter. "Interesting! A mere human, daring to negotiate terms with me?"

Deren pointed calmly at Onyxia. "I am the Black Dragon Princess’s partner; naturally, I have the qualifications to negotiate."

Nefarian’s laughter ceased abruptly. He looked at his sister, then at Deren, and finally snorted. "Fine. I’ll go look into it when I return. If I can find such captives among the orcs, I’ll send them all to you."

He turned and walked toward the edge of the crater, his dark red cape dragging a long trail through the scorched earth, his voice echoing from afar: "As for the sulfur... the crater of Blackrock Mountain is ready for extraction at any time."

Chromie stood on her tiptoes, whispering, "Did that... actually work?"

Deren wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and let out a long sigh of relief. "The lucky coin—truly terrifying."

Onyxia watched her brother’s retreating back, her golden pupils narrowing. "He believed it too easily... something isn't right."

Deren shrugged. "Maybe he just thinks that compared to fighting his sister, getting paid to do nothing is more profitable?"

Chromie suddenly raised her hand. "So, can we go buy that lottery ticket now?"