Chapter 45: A New Venture

The midday sunlight resembled melted gold, spilling over the white marble pavement of Theramore Central Square. More than a hundred elven rangers stood in formation, their leather armor casting a cold, sharp gleam under the intense heat. Their longbows were slung diagonally across their backs, and quivers hung neatly at their waists, every arrowhead meticulously polished. The bowstrings refracted dazzling, starry motes in the light. Behind them stood a larger crowd of high elven civilians preparing to join Theramore.

Sylvanas stood upon the high platform, facing all her kindred and compatriots, and began the swearing-in ritual. "We once swore upon the Sunwell," her voice rang out as clear and unyielding as quenched steel, piercing every elf's heart, "Today, we swear upon survival."

The rangers raised their longbows in unison, the humming drone of tightened bowstrings merging into the air like the buzzing of a swarm of bees. Their arrows pointed diagonally toward the sky, the sharp arrowheads forming an undulating sea of light under the sun. Whispers of awe rippled through the surrounding citizens; they had never witnessed such an elegant yet lethal ceremony.

Jaina stood within the shadows of the viewing platform, her fingertips absentmindedly tracing the shaft of her crystal staff, the arcane gemstone at its tip flickering softly with her movements. Her gaze swept across the crowd in the square, finally coming to rest upon Daren nearby.

"Tonight," she tilted her head slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper audible only to Daren, "I am hosting a banquet at the Mage Tower, exclusively for you."

Daren replied without turning his head, "It would be my absolute honor."

Onyxia appeared behind Daren seemingly out of nowhere, her black dress brushing against his ankle like a living creature. Her golden, slit-pupiled eyes narrowed as she swept her gaze between Jaina and Daren, a dangerous curve playing on the corners of her lips. "What a touching oath of loyalty."

The two in front: *Did you hear anything?*

As night fell, the small banquet hall of the Mage Tower was brilliantly illuminated by candlelight. The dining table was draped in a deep blue tablecloth embroidered with Kul Tiran anchor motifs, and the silver tableware gleamed coldly in the candlelight.

When Daren pushed open the carved wooden door, he found Onyxia already seated at the opposite end of the long table, her slender fingers toying with a goblet filled with red wine as viscous as blood.

"Jaina," the Black Dragon Princess raised her glass lazily, the candlelight dancing within her slit pupils, "I hope you don't mind my uninvited presence."

Jaina stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, the moonlight casting a cool radiance over her golden hair. Her smile stiffened slightly before she quickly resumed her composure. "Of course not, Lady Onyxia."

Daren gave a light cough and took the seat between them. The glow of the crystal chandelier cast fine, dappled light across his eyes, cleverly masking his inward helplessness.

Waiters silently served the appetizers. Onyxia poked at a lobster with her fork and let out a sudden, soft chuckle. "I remember seeing you a long time ago, at a banquet in Stormwind where this very dish was served. You visited Stormwind with Antonidas." She glanced pointedly at Jaina. "Back then, you were just a fledgling little apprentice."

Jaina's fingertips gently grazed her dining knife, a sliver of frost quietly creeping toward the tip. "Ancient history. I certainly didn't pay attention to who was sitting at those hypocritical banquets."

Daren chimed in at the opportune moment. "Today's swearing-in ceremony was a great success." He cut into the lobster, the fresh, sweet aroma instantly filling the air. "The elves' emotional state is much more stable than anticipated."

"Thanks to your 'wonder drug'," Jaina's tone softened, though her gaze remained probing. "Still, I am curious—can you maintain a stable long-term supply of this gas should the number of mana addicts increase later on?"

Daren sat back in his velvet armchair, his fingertips tapping lightly against the rim of his crystal cup. "Certainly, no problem at all. It is simply a matter of scaling up—production scale and distribution scale."

"So," Jaina probed cautiously, "you want to turn this gas into a business?"

Daren replied, "Not 'want to', but 'must'." He set down his wineglass, retrieved a small crystal vial from his inner pocket, and watched the transparent mist within slowly swirl. "Theramore needs the elves, the elves need it, and we—" He paused briefly, "—need capital."

Onyxia let out a soft laugh, her fingernails having somehow transformed into pitch-black dragon talons, lightly dragging across the tabletop to leave a scorched mark. "I like the sound of that 'we'."

Jaina tightened her grip on her staff. "Do you realize what this means? Kael'thas will never allow it. The elves who swore the oath today are mere civilians and a handful of rangers, which might be acceptable to him. But if more elves flock to Theramore, he will undoubtedly react. Dalaran will pressure me as well."

***

"Precisely for that reason," Daren interrupted her, "it holds all the more value." He stood up, walked over to the map of Azeroth hanging on the wall, and pointed to the ruins of Quel'Thalas. "Dalaran monopolizes magical resources, but mana addiction demands the consumption of massive amounts of arcane crystals. Given Dalaran's reserves, they won't last long. Besides, not everyone receives an allocation. The magewrights might distribute a fixed amount at scheduled intervals to keep them motivated for work, but the prince and nobility must find their own ways to acquire arcane crystals. Given their current refugee status, how long can they possibly hold out?" His finger traced across the map and stopped at Theramore. "Yet arcane gas? It is cheap, easy to produce, and—"

"It comes with side effects—uncontrollable fits of laughter," Jaina added coldly. After trying it a few times herself, she had dared not use it again; it was simply too undignified.

Daren smiled. "To be precise, it 'induces dependency'." He turned to Jaina. "Imagine it: more and more elves will come to Theramore for it, becoming your artisans, your soldiers, your taxpayers..."

The fire in the fireplace suddenly burst with a string of sparks.

"And Kael'thas," Onyxia chimed in leisurely, "will throw a tantrum like a hatchling whose toy has been stolen." Her slit pupils gleamed in the dim light. "What a delightful picture."

Jaina turned to face the fireplace, the flames dancing within her azure eyes. She thought of the elven children huddled in blankets on the docks, the charred lute in an old woman's arms, and the hollow, yearning gazes of the rangers during the swearing-in ceremony.

"This is far too risky," she finally said, her voice low. "If the Alliance Council discovers we are trafficking—"

"Not 'we'," Daren smiled. "The goblins will be more than happy to act as middlemen. Theramore is merely producing a small quantity of gas to treat its own citizens' mana addiction. No one can possibly find fault with that. Whatever leaks out is obviously the work of greedy goblins."

Jaina whipped around. "You planned this all along?"

Onyxia's laughter sounded like tearing silk. "My dear, he planned everything." She paced over to Jaina, her black dress sweeping across the carpet. "Even your hesitation at this very moment was calculated into his plans."

Chromie suddenly poked her head out from a temporal rift and said to Jaina, "Human princess, you'd better listen to Daren. That's the only way to save the stray prince."

Jaina froze, staring at Chromie in bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

Daren took over the conversation. "Imagine this: if the high elves suffer a collective wave of mana addiction withdrawal and there aren't enough arcane crystals for them to consume, what kind of things will they resort to? Will they raid Dalaran's magical vaults, steal Antonidas's artifacts, or even hunt down mana wyrms just to drain them? Cast aside and despised by everyone, who else could they possibly rely on? Who else in this world can offer an infinite supply of mana for them to consume, demanding merely a soul in return?"

"Demons!" Jaina's voice came out dry. "They truly are the only ones capable of helping them. But that would mean betraying Azeroth and defecting to the Burning Legion. Kael'thas would be permanently nailed to the pillar of shame."

"To someone dying of thirst, even a cup of poisoned wine can quench it," Daren said softly.

"Fine, I can join the gas business. Consider this part of saving Kael'thas's fate," Jaina said firmly.

"Theramore gains wealth, the high elves cure their mana addiction, and Azeroth is spared a group of traitors. Look, isn't this a win-win-win?" Daren raised his glass, offering a distant toast to Jaina, while Onyxia covered her face and chuckled softly.

"Alas, the timeline! Where on earth are you branching it off to?" Only the bronze dragon lamented.

"How specifically should we do this?" Jaina asked for the details of producing the arcane gas.

"Arcane gas is simply the product of alchemy reagents heated with arcane energy, which is then pressurized and cooled into a liquid stored in steel cylinders. Onyxia can enslave a fire elemental to handle the heating, and you can summon a water elemental to cool the gas down. No problem, right?" Daren asked.

"As a frost mage, such a trivial matter is naturally no problem. But what is needed for pressurization? A wind elemental?" Jaina asked doubtfully.

Daren smiled. "At a time like this, we must ask our Horde Warchief for assistance—have them dispatch a shaman to communicate with and persuade a wind elemental to help us pressurize the gas."

"Oh, Daren, you truly are a genius," Chromie giggled in praise. "You don't have to lift a finger; you just make the elementals work for us and then rake in the gold from the long-eared folks."

***

"Interesting!" Onyxia laughed as well. "Enslaving a fire elemental is as easy as pie for me."

"What about the goblins?" Jaina asked.

"Haven't they established a portal at the Theramore trading post? We'll directly notify their prince to come discuss business. I imagine the goblins will be quite interested in this venture," Daren murmured.

"Very well, happy cooperation!" Jaina raised her glass, and everyone drank a toast. Riding the wave of the alcohol, Jaina looked at Daren with hazy eyes and asked, "Just what on earth is inside your head, constantly coming up with one unexpected plot after another?"

"Cough, cough," Onyxia coughed a few times to remind her pet not to fall for the human princess's seduction.

"I'm simply..." Daren held his wineglass, lowering his head in thought, "I simply want to live a leisurely life in this ridiculous world."

Hearing this, Jaina lowered her goblet, stared at Daren and the black dragon, and said with uncertainty, "I received some intelligence—word came from Deepholm that the great monster has been severely injured."

"Oh?" Onyxia replied indifferently.

"Was it you?" Jaina asked with curiosity.

"Shh!" Daren raised a finger to his lips in a gesture for silence.

Jaina quickly covered her mouth, leaned closer to Daren with her wineglass, her curiosity thoroughly piqued. "How on earth did you pull that off?"

"Boom!" Daren made an explosive gesture with his hand.

Ah! Jaina was startled, instantly recalling the massive explosion in the Dustwallow Marsh. That explained everything. She nodded. "I see. What did you use to blow it up?"

Daren lowered his head to think, reached into his spatial pouch, and pulled out a small packet of fertilizer sample. He poured a small amount onto the table and said to Jaina, "As allies, there are some things you ought to know. This is alchemical fertilizer. You pressurize and heat it with magic, and then it 'goes boom'."

Using her mage hand, Jaina carefully wrapped around the tiny pile of ammonium nitrate, casting a minor fireball spell to heat it. Within moments, a small-scale explosion occurred, directly blasting her mage hand to pieces.

"This power is no less than a major fireball spell," Jaina said, startled. "How much of it did you use for the blast?"

Daren raised a single palm with all five fingers extended and said calmly, "Five hundred tons!"

"Ah!" Jaina was stunned dumb. She muttered to herself, "No wonder, no wonder. Even that great monster couldn't possibly withstand that amount." A sense of profound dread toward Daren took root in her heart.