Chapter 41: The Windrunner's Choice

The air in the port of Theramore was thick with the scent of sea salt and asphalt. Waves crashed against the granite breakwaters, and the splashing spray refracted into delicate, tiny rainbows under the sunlight.

Jaina’s portal opened at the edge of the harbor, where a bustling crowd of people surged forward from the ships onto the shore.

Sylvanas stood at the edge of the dock, her fingertips instinctively caressing the elven longbow given to her by Delun—a habit she had formed since leaving Quel'Thalas, as if only the cold, hard touch of the bow could convince her she was still alive.

"Your port is quite lively," she remarked, her gaze sweeping over the neatly arranged cargo ships. "Much more so than Kul Tiras..."

Her voice cut off abruptly.

Her fingers slammed tightly onto the bowstring, muscle memory snapping an arrow onto the longbow in the blink of an eye. Thirty yards away, a green-skinned orc peon was carrying an oak wine barrel down a merchant ship's gangway, his rough burlap clothes soaked in sweat, a woodworking chisel tucked into his waist instead of a battleaxe.

"Sylvanas! Wait—"

Delun’s shout was cut off by the buzzing vibration of the bowstring. The arrow tore through the air, heading straight for the orc's throat.

At the critical moment, an arcane barrier suddenly unfolded, and the tip of the arrow was abruptly frozen three inches from the orc's neck. Delicate violet runes flickered in the air—Jaina’s spell.

"What are you doing?!" Sylvanas demanded harshly, a second arrow already notched to her bowstring.

Startled, the orc peon stood frozen in place. His hands loosened, and the wine barrel crashed heavily beside his feet, amber liquid leaking out in a steady stream. Nearby tauren laborers immediately dropped their ropes, and several goblin merchants screamed and dove beneath their counters. The clamor of the dock froze instantly.

Delun took a stride forward, pressing both hands firmly onto Sylvanas's wrists: "Take a closer look! They aren't carrying weapons!"

The Ranger General’s pupils shrank violently. Only then did she notice more details:

The orc's rough green skin was covered in wood-shaving scratches.
The tauren's hooves were stained with fresh mud.
Trolls were checking cargo manifests, their fingertips smudged with ink.

"Theramore is a neutral port," Jaina stepped forward, the crystal atop her staff still glowing. "These Horde people are only here to work."

"What? Work?" Sylvanas's bowstring trembled slightly.

"Hey, you're going to pay for my wine, plus emotional damages for my workers!" A goblin ran over, shouting furiously at everyone. "And the ship delay fee. Let me calculate, two hundred gold coins in total."

"Cut it out, Greib. Your workers aren't that fragile." Delun stepped up to converse with the goblin.

"Ah, Lord Delun. You must seek justice for me. This elven chick almost killed my worker and spilled the wine. I'll give you a discount, one hundred gold coins." The goblin seemed to recognize Delun and said ingratiatingly.

"You hired orcs, did you report it to the town hall? Did you pay the personnel management fee?" Delun asked with a straight face.

The goblin's face turned pale instantly, and he stammered, "Well, this, this..." Then he noticed Jaina standing nearby with a cold expression. Who in Theramore didn't recognize its master? Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he immediately said respectfully, "I'll go complete the paperwork today, I swear by gold."

Jaina let out a satisfied "Hn."

Only then did the goblin turn to run, thinking to himself that he must have been blind, only wanting to extort some money without noticing a bunch of big shots standing here. He had walked right into the line of fire.

"Halt!" Delun called out to him. "Tell me, how did you come up with the idea of hiring the Horde as workers?"

At the mention of business, the goblin merchant's eyes lit up: "Needless to say, it's cheap! Thirty or fifty coppers can make an orc peon work a whole day, as long as you keep them supplied with hardtack and dried meat. Great strength, few complaints, won't slack off. Tauren cost more, but their strength is immense—one of them equals five sailors. Ships have a lot of heavy items; it used to take several people to lift them together, but now a tauren can handle it alone, maybe with just one helper, and all the shipboard chores get done well."

"Don't they cause trouble?" Delun asked deliberately.

"No, no trouble at all. They get fed well and earn wages. They either save it and send it home, or buy Theramore goods like cloth, ironware, and fine wine to send back—all things they love. And we make a huge profit in between. They are simply the perfect workers. Besides, the town hall requires registration and management. If they cause trouble, they won't be allowed back here to work. So they're all very well-behaved," the goblin merchant said smugly.

"Fine, take this and go. Compensation for your wine." Delun pulled out a gold coin and tossed it to him. The goblin happily scurried away immediately.

Sylvanas listened to the preceding conversation with a complicated expression. Finally, she said, "...Unbelievable," a mixed emotion carried within her voice. "I'm sorry, I was impulsive."

"It's fine, it's fine. You haven't seen this kind of scene before, so it's understandable. Once you see it more often, you won't find it strange." Delun didn't mind at all.

"Let's go into the city!" Seeing this pair exchanging endless pleasantries, Jaina urged. Onyxia let out a soft huff.

Entering the city of Theramore, what Sylvanas witnessed completely shattered her worldview.

Along the way, dwarf craftsmen could be seen helping people forge ironware. And their customer happened to be a night elf. The customer paused for a moment upon seeing the high elf approach, but soon resumed discussing her requirements with the dwarf.

"That's Aelisra Moonshadow from Darkshore," Delun explained, following her gaze. "She comes here every month to stock up on supplies."

"This is simply unbelievable," Sylvanas's voice carried an incredulous pitch. "Night elves... shopping in a human city?"

"The Temple of the Moon was just completed last week," Jaina walked up from behind, holding two steaming cups of beverages. "Tyrande sent three resident priestesses." She handed one of the cups to Sylvanas. "Want to try? Brewed with moonberries from Darnassus."

Sylvanas did not take the cup. Her gaze was locked behind Jaina—two troll hunters were locking arms with human soldiers at the tavern entrance, singing wildly out-of-tune songs.

Before her words faded, a commotion erupted across the street.

"Make way! Make way! Emergency!"

Two orc peons ran past carrying a stretcher, upon which lay a human technician with an elbow bent at a strange angle. Blood dripped onto the cobblestone road.

Sylvanas suddenly turned around, her pointed ears—characteristic of high elves—faintly red from emotional agitation: "What on earth are you building? Some kind of... mixed-race experimental ground?"

"Isn't this wonderful? Everyone comes to this city, putting aside race, beliefs, origins, social classes, and all other constraints, to work, earn money, and then enjoy life," Delun said awkwardly.

"Yeah, put aside all constraints, and then enjoy life," Sylvanas murmured thoughtfully, before bursting into hearty laughter. "Ha... hah... That's right! Work, earn money, enjoy life! No bullshit loyalty, obedience, nobility, dignity. It's all fucking hypocrisy and nonsense. Quel'Thalas burned to ashes, to hell with high elves!"

She laughed so hard tears streamed down her face, even though many people on the street were watching her. Jaina waved her hand, signaling them to move along.

"From now on, from now on, we should call ourselves golden elves—elves who live purely to earn gold coins! Hahaha..." Sylvanas wept as she bent over, calling out incoherently, even starting to stomp her feet in excitement.

"What's wrong with her? Has she gone mad?" Onyxia asked Delun in a low voice.

"Nothing, she's just had things bottled up inside for too long and suddenly released it. It's a good thing," Delun guessed. Blood elves hadn't arrived yet, but golden elves might actually appear. Delun broke out in a cold sweat internally!

"Aren't elves supposed to be the most elegant?" Onyxia asked curiously.

"When you're elegant for too long, your face turns into a mask, and all emotions get suppressed. For the sake of elegance, you can't laugh loudly, you can't cry loudly, you can't even loudly express your true intentions. Everything is besieged by elegance. After a few hundred years, anyone's mind would break down."

"That is true. Those elves really are pitiful," Onyxia understood. She stepped forward and gently embraced Sylvanas, letting her head rest against her shoulder. "There, there, stop crying. Delun isn't going to lend you money anyway. You can just lean on my shoulder."

Sylvanas hugged the black dragon princess, crying her eyes out. Jaina, who was processing documents handed over by her subordinates, smiled bitterly and shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit envious of this female general for having the courage to cry her face wet in public. She herself had been treated like a tool for days, either fighting the undead or opening portals. The moment she returned to Theramore, her subordinates immediately handed her paperwork to process. While accompanying visitors to tour the city, she also had to deal with mountains of administrative affairs. A truly tragic life!

After crying for a while and letting it out of her system, Sylvanas proved capable of letting go just as easily as she picked things up. She took the handkerchief handed to her by Delun, wiped her face, her eyes still red, and thanked Delun: "Thank you, I feel much better now."

"Need to rest for a bit?" Jaina asked. "I've prepared a room for you at the best inn in Theramore."

Sylvanas thought for a moment, then asked Onyxia in a low voice, "Can I go sit at your place?"

The black dragon princess turned to look at Delun, asking for his opinion. Although she wanted to bring this female elf home ten thousand times less than anything else, considering Delun's plans, she was willing to listen to him.

"Sure, sure!" Of course Delun wanted to keep Sylvanas right under his nose. Now that he had managed to rescue her, he was terrified that some mastermind behind the scenes would notice the Ranger General hadn't turned into the Banshee Queen yet, flick a finger, and end her game entirely.

Delun's residence was a two-story stone building in Theramore, unassuming in appearance, quiet, and not far from the city center. It was a property specially approved by Jaina.

"Please come in." Delun turned the key, and the lock made a slight click. "Sorry it's a bit messy, recently..."

His words cut off abruptly.

In the entryway, Chromie was sprawled out on the sofa with a children's picture book covering her face, her short legs dangling over the edge of the coffee table. Hearing the door open, she groggily reached out to fish for a lollipop that had fallen to the floor, and ended up rolling right off—

—landing squarely in front of Sylvanas.

"Syl-syl-syl—" Chromie violently pulled the book off her face, her amber pupils instantly shrinking to pinpricks. "—Sylvanas?! Alive?!"

The air froze.

Jaina’s brows furrowed slightly: "Bronze dragon, you know her?"

Onyxia’s red lips curved into a dangerous arc: "Alive? Interesting!"

Chromie scrambled up in a flurry, grabbed the hem of Delun's clothes, and lowered her voice to a whisper: "Why did she run over here?!"

"Speaking of which, did you or did you not finish the mission assigned to you? We almost got trapped in Silvermoon City," Delun complained loudly, very smoothly shifting the topic away.

"Another dragon? My dear advisor, exactly how many secrets do you have that I don't know about?" Sylvanas walked slowly toward the coffee table, looking at Delun with a serious expression. "So this was your purpose in approaching me?"

Delun sighed: "The timing isn't right yet. When it is, I will definitely tell you the truth."

Jaina, who was sitting down reading documents, glanced at Delun and shook her head. It was this excuse again.

A pin-drop silence filled the room.

Onyxia suddenly smiled: "It seems this secret is quite serious. Whatever, I've been busy for days, I want a good sleep." With that, she yawned and walked upstairs.

Delun looked at her gratefully; Onyxia was still the cutest!

Chromie smiled sheepishly, covering up for almost spilling the truth.

Jaina’s staff glowed faintly: "Is this... the world changing?"

"Alright, I can feel your goodwill, going through the trouble and danger to rescue me and my rangers. If it truly is an incredible secret, let's leave it unsaid for now. I am very satisfied with Theramore and have decided to live here from now on. Can you reserve a room for me here?" Sylvanas said after a long silence, finally stating her thoughts to Delun.

"No." Chromie finally found her voice. "It's inconvenient to have another person move in here." She and Delun had too many secrets together. Having another sharp-eyed elf living here meant worrying about sleep-talking every day.

Sylvanas looked toward Delun. Delun scratched his head and asked Jaina, "Are there any empty houses nearby? Arrange a residence for Sylvanas. It really is a bit inconvenient here for me. After all, more elven rangers might come here in the future."

Sylvanas stared intently at Delun. Hearing him say this, she deflated like a punctured tire and said, "Fine, I won't stay here. Please help me arrange a residence nearby, Your Grace Jaina. I will remember this favor." Her voice was exceptionally calm.

Jaina nodded; the fate of a tool could not be escaped: "I'll arrange it. It will just take a little time. For these few days, would you like to rest at the inn first?"

"Alright." This time, Sylvanas did not refuse. She understood that this human and the two dragons definitely had some tremendous secrets hidden from her. But she also understood that some secrets were fatal. She needed to wait for the right timing.