Chapter 53: Farewell and Cherish

The young ranger's despairing mood came and went quickly. The next day, she was back to taking Rhonin around the streets.

"Look, this is a newly invented candied skewer in Theramore. Various fruit chunks coated in syrup—it tastes super sweet," Alleria said, holding up a variety of skewered snacks, eagerly introducing them to Rhonin as she enthusiastically pulled him by the hand through the bustling streets and alleys.

Suddenly, the crowd surged forward. Up ahead, someone was performing elf ring-toss, a hunter was training beasts, a mage was putting on a shadow puppet show, and a paladin was performing the stunt of shattering a massive boulder on his bare chest. Everyone was pressing forward. In the crush of the crowd, Alleria's hand slipped from Rhonin's. She searched frantically around for several circles, looking for a long time, but the red-haired figure was nowhere to be seen. Dejectedly, she walked back home, only to find Sylvanas standing alone with a group of rangers at the entrance of the ranger camp, seemingly waiting for her.

"Second Sister, Rhonin and I got separated in the crowd. Did he come back here?" Alleria asked anxiously.

"The arcane gas in the warehouse has been stolen. We are conducting a full-scale search," Sylvanas said without a trace of emotion.

"What arcane gas? I'm asking about Rhonin," Alleria stammered, not quite processing the shift in topic.

"I said, the arcane gas in the camp has been stolen, and all the rangers are searching for it," Sylvanas raised her voice.

"Ah!" Alleria finally snapped back to reality, asking urgently, "Who did it? Is there any way to get it back?"

"He won't get far!" Sylvanas said coldly.

Alleria felt a bad premonition, yet fearing she might unearth something that would upset her, she silently retreated to her room, waiting with a fluttering heart for the outcome.

Over at the Golden Goblet Inn, after being separated from Alleria, Rhonin had no idea where the crowd had swept him. Unable to find Alleria after wandering around for quite a while, he had no choice but to return to his inn room. Pushing the door open, he checked and found that the magical trap had not been triggered.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Lying on the bed fully clothed, his face flickered with uncertainty as his mind raced. Suddenly, sensing something amiss, he slid his hand beneath the blanket and felt a stiff bundle of cloth. He sprang up in fright. He certainly didn't remember hiding anything in his bed. This was going to be bad.

Just as he was panicking, a heavy, violent pounding shook the door, and a loud voice shouted from outside, "Open up, guard inspection! Open the door immediately, or we will resort to force!"

"Damn it!" Rhonin raked his hands through his messy hair, and with no other choice, went to open the door.

A squad of soldiers bearing the anchor insignia burst into the room. The leader quickly restrained Rhonin while the others began searching the premises.

"What are the meaning of this?" Rhonin protested angrily. "I am Lady Jaina's guest."

The leading soldier said nothing, his eyes scanning the luxurious room. Before long, someone retrieved a cloth package from the bedding on the bed. Upon opening it, it revealed a row of sealed test tubes.

"Found it. The arcane gas stolen from the ranger warehouse," the soldier immediately handed it to the captain.

"Take him away!" the leader sneered, giving the order.

The color drained completely from Rhonin's face!

That evening, at Dren's residence.

Sylvanas was in an exceptionally good mood. As she ate, she softly hummed an elven tune.

Onyxicia stared at her with a disgruntled expression while Dren sighed on the side. Probing cautiously, he asked, "Rhonin has now become a suspect in the theft of the arcane gas? And he's been locked up? Aren't you moving a bit too fast?"

"Well, we caught him red-handed. The ironclad evidence is overwhelming," Sylvanas said with a smile, nodding.

"It's only been two days, and you've engineered this mess. Won't Alleria be heartbroken?" Dren asked, pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Why are you so concerned about my little sister?" the Ranger General suddenly grew suspicious. "You don't have designs on her as well, do you?"

"Oh, come on, do I value my life that little? Is sleeping on the floor really that fun?" Dren hastily cleared himself of any suspicion.

The Black Dragon Princess flickered her tail, expressing her satisfaction.

An arcane teleportation ripple flared up, and Dren declared that he wouldn't be able to finish his meal.

Jaina stepped out of the portal, looking at Dren, who acted as if none of this concerned him, and Sylvanas, who wore a tense expression. Without a word, she found a seat for herself, used a mage hand to serve herself some food, and then leisurely began, "Captain Sylvanas, your crime-solving skills are truly divine. Right now, your deputy captain is running all over the place pleading with me to release Rhonin, leaving me with no choice but to hide from her. What an absolute nuisance."

"Hmph!" The elven woman certainly wouldn't confess to her own plot. "Everyone saw that this morning Rhonin witnessed a treatment using the gas. He heard where it was kept, and the keys were practically left right in front of him. I maintained my trust in him for the sake of my little sister, but I never expected that he really was here to steal the gas." Perfect human and physical evidence!

Jaina took a sip of soup, ate a few bites of food, then elegantly wiped her mouth and asked Dren, "Now that things have turned out like this, how should we handle it? Keeping him locked up is no solution, and releasing him outright doesn't feel right either."

"Let him go, and count those vials of arcane gas as your gift to Dalaran," Dren thought for a moment and said. "Treating mana addiction requires arcane crystals, and it's been nearly three months. No matter how wealthy Dalaran is, they don't have an endless supply of crystals to give to elven craftsmen. After all, those craftsmen aren't worth that kind of price."

Jaina nodded. She then asked, "Will we have to give them more arcane gas in the future? I'm afraid Kael'thas might take issue with it. Last time he rushed over and gave me a lecture, making me promise not to sell arcane gas to Dalaran."

Dren chuckled as he took a bite of bread. "He's just a fallen prince of a ruined nation, sheltering under Dalaran's roof. What right does he have to point fingers at the master of the house?"

"We can take this exact opportunity to let Rhonin bring a message back: if Dalaran needs arcane gas, they can come directly to Theramore to purchase a shipment. For the sake of magic, the price can be discounted, but they must trade elven refugees for it. Anyway, we'll accept anyone except craftsmen."

"Of course, it would be best if they sent some craftsmen too. Dalaran has already taken in over two thousand elven craftsmen; trading a tenth of them to us should be acceptable. Honestly, professions don't matter, just send whoever."

"As for the rest of the elves, instead of fighting over shopping trips just to exchange for arcane crystals and turning Dalaran into a chaotic mess, they might as well all be brought here to work. Even being a waiter beats wandering the streets! And Dalaran would be more than glad to shed this burden of mouths that eat without working."

Sylvanas looked at Dren with gratitude, understanding that he was carving out a path of survival for her compatriots, helping them escape Dalaran's sea of misery sooner.

Jaina nodded. Theramore was in the midst of a developmental boom and facing a labor shortage. With thousands of elven immigrants already settled there, pulling in another one or two thousand would certainly benefit the city's growth.

Dren thought for a moment, then pulled out a sheet of paper covered in writing and formulas, handing it to Jaina. "This is a method for manufacturing an explosive substance. It requires two types of strong acids and some plant or animal fats. I call it nitroglycerin. Its destructive power is immense, but it is highly unstable."

"Give the mages of Dalaran something to do so they stop obsessing over Theramore all day long. Besides, once the undead conquer Quel'Thalas, their next military campaign is bound to target Dalaran—you don't even have to guess."

"However, those mages in Dalaran are probably already drafting defensive plans, reinforcing the city's protective barriers and setting up special countermeasures against the undead. With this formula added to the mix, their chances of winning should improve significantly."

Jaina looked at the formula doubtfully and asked, "Why aren't we developing this so-called glycerin ourselves?"

Dren explained, "This stuff is genuinely dangerous. I didn't even dare to experiment with it myself. A certain sage nearly blew his entire family to kingdom come while testing this formula. So you must never experiment with it in private."

"Besides, Dalaran's mages have protective magic. If they run an explosion experiment, at worst they'll blow up a laboratory, leaving their own lives out of danger. The bigger the explosion, the more interested they'll probably become."

"We can provide them with an initial batch of acid free of charge. If they manage to synthesize it, it will be good for resisting the undead onslaught. You can hint to them that temperature control is the key."

Though Jaina was deeply curious about this glycerin substance, hearing Dren's description left her feeling uneasy. Trusting Dren's judgment, she decided to follow his advice and avoid experimenting with it herself.

A day later, outside the town hall, Alleria saw the released Rhonin. Jaina personally escorted him out. Having been locked up for a little over a day, aside from looking somewhat exhausted, he was otherwise fine and had not been subjected to torture or forced interrogation.

Seeing Alleria waiting outside for him, Jaina didn't mince words: "Your elven friend is here to pick you up, so I won't interrupt your reunion. As for the matter we discussed earlier, my ranger captain will handle the handover with you. Until we meet again." With that, she turned and walked back into the town hall.

Rhonin pursed his lips, unsure of what to say, and walked down the steps to stand face-to-face with Alleria.

Alleria had a thousand things she wanted to say, but in the end, it all melted into a single sentence: "Rhonin, are you alright?"

Rhonin scratched his head, putting on a brave face to comfort her, "I'm fine, I'm fine. It was all just a misunderstanding. They cleared it up and let me out."

"I heard from Second Sister that you stole the arcane gas from the ranger warehouse, but I never believed it. I knew there had to be some mistake," Alleria said cheerfully.

"Ahem—" Rhonin gave an awkward cough, feeling a twinge of guilt. Though he had genuinely come to steal the arcane gas formula, he hadn't expected to be directly framed and set up. Things had turned out all right in the end, though; Jaina had agreed to send a batch of arcane gas back with him to satisfy his mission requirements, along with a bonus formula for the new explosive. That would be more than enough for him to complete his mission successfully. Still, he'd better find a chance to slip away once he got back; the atmosphere in Dalaran was far too bizarre to guarantee he wouldn't be sent on another suicide mission next time.

He apologized to Alleria, saying, "I might have to head back early. Lady Jaina has already negotiated with Dalaran, and I need to escort the supplies home." As the words left his mouth, a faint sorrow gripped his heart. Once they parted ways here, when would they ever meet again?

"Ah—" Alleria gasped in surprise, not expecting Rhonin to be in such a rush to leave. "Why so soon?"

"Little Sister, don't stand in the mage's way," Sylvanas materialized behind them out of nowhere. Only then did Alleria notice that her second sister had brought a carriage right outside the town hall. Sylvanas addressed Rhonin, "These are the supplies Lady Jaina has prepared for Dalaran. Please inspect them; the ship has already been chartered. Just ask at the port when you deliver them. The ship leaves this afternoon, so you'll need to hurry." With those words, she handed the inventory and the carriage driver over to Rhonin, then turned to drag her little sister away.

"Wait, Second Sister, wait!" Alleria hurriedly pulled back Sylvanas, looking imploringly at Rhonin as she asked, "You'll come back, won't you?"

Rhonin turned away to hide the tear tracks on his face, hardening his tone as he refused, "I won't. I have other missions, and I'll probably be away traveling for several years."

"Then I wish you a safe journey! May you be kept from harm!" Alleria choked back her tears, finished her sentence, and let her second sister lead her away, though the faint trembling of her shoulders betrayed her turbulent emotions.

The red-haired mage watched the elven girl recede into the distance, roughly wiped his face, pulled himself together, and walked over to the carriage to begin tallying the supplies.

Far away in Northrend, deep within a secluded Vrykul tribe, a towering woman was offering a prayer to the heavens: "Please grant me a strong, strapping man!" She paused for a moment before adding, "Red hair preferred, looks rather handsome!"