By the time the carriage rumbled into Goldshire, it was already afternoon.
Sunlight spilled lazily across the streets. A few hens pecked at the roadside, and a blacksmith hammered away in his shop with rhythmic clangs.
Allen lifted the curtain and looked out at this small town—both familiar and strangely unfamiliar.
Boss Farley was at the entrance, oiling his signboard. The moment he saw Allen stick his head out, his eyes lit up.
That was the wealthy young lord he had just sent off a few days ago!
He hurriedly stood up, plastering a broad smile across his face as he went to greet them.
Allen and the others were still getting off the carriage one after another when Farley's gaze swept over it. He spotted a young man riding a tall white horse, leisurely looking around.
Farley's eyes brightened.
This lad looked dignified and spirited—clearly the hardworking type!
He quickly stepped forward, patted the young man on the shoulder, and said warmly: "Young man, you've worked hard! Just take these horses to the stables in the back. The feed is in the second compartment on the left side of the storage—there's hay and oats, feed them as you see fit… but don't give them too much. If you're traveling again this afternoon, overfeeding will slow them down."
He spoke as naturally as breathing, even giving Varian another friendly pat on the shoulder after finishing.
Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind, the Lion of the Alliance… froze.
He looked down at the shoulder that had just been patted, then back up at Farley's smiling face.
Then he burst into hearty laughter.
"Alright!" he agreed immediately, swinging off his horse and actually taking the reins, ready to head for the stables.
Only then did Allen notice what was happening—he nearly fell off the carriage.
"No, no, no!" He rushed over in three quick steps, stopping Varian, then quickly turned to Farley. "Boss Farley, this is our friend—he's with us!"
Farley blinked, looking at Allen, then at the young man he had just mistaken for a stable hand.
The young man still wore a gentle smile, without the slightest hint of displeasure.
Farley hurriedly bowed in apology. "Ah, my apologies! My mistake!"
Varian waved it off casually.
Farley's gaze drifted back to that face.
Wait a second.
That face… why did it look more and more familiar?
A memory suddenly flashed through Farley's mind—years ago, when the old King Llane was still alive, he had once toured Elwynn Forest with the young crown prince, passing through Goldshire from afar…
Farley sucked in a sharp breath. His legs went weak, and he nearly dropped to his knees on the spot.
But Varian had already turned away, chatting and laughing with Allen as they headed toward the inn.
Farley opened his mouth, but in the end, not a single word came out. He could only tremble as he followed behind, his mind looping endlessly: 'I patted his shoulder… I told him to feed the horses… I…'
...
Lunch was on Boss Farley.
Absolutely not because he wanted to flatter the young king, nor because he was particularly generous—it was mainly because the money Young Lord Allen—no, rather, Wren—had paid earlier was enough to stay at the Lion's Pride Inn for weeks.
Rubbing his hands together, Farley personally took charge of the kitchen, preparing a lavish spread: honey-roasted ribs, cream of mushroom soup, grilled fish, freshly baked black bread, and a fine jug of Thunderbrew ale.
Everyone gathered around the table, eating with gusto.
Farley stood nearby, attending to them. The more he looked at that young man, the more uneasy he felt.
As expected of Young Lord Allen—he went to Stormwind once and came back having "kidnapped" their little king.
But His Majesty clearly had no intention of revealing his identity, and as an innkeeper, Farley naturally didn't dare say a word.
After a few rounds of drinks, Allen brought up their plan to head to Duskwood.
The moment Farley heard this, he slapped his thigh.
"Ah!" His eyes lit up. "You're going to Duskwood? Perfect!"
Everyone paused mid-meal and looked at him.
Farley cleared his throat and began explaining: "Well, about a month ago, a bounty notice was posted in Goldshire. There's a fierce forest wolf leader named Lupos. That beast has been causing havoc in Elwynn Forest, killing dozens of cattle and sheep. The local hunters organized a hunt and finally cornered it by the river—but then that thing…"
He spread his hands and mimed a diving motion.
"With a splash, it jumped into the river and swam across to Duskwood! So now, Lupos is being jointly hunted by both Darkshire and Goldshire!"
After hearing this, everyone simply resumed eating, uninterested.
It was just a wolf.
Seeing their reaction, Farley added: "Well, to be fair, the bounty is only one gold coin. I suppose that's beneath you all."
Swish—
Allen's eyes lit up.
"One gold coin?" He set down his fork and said solemnly, "Maintaining the safety of Elwynn Forest is the duty of every citizen. We'll take the job."
...
After lunch, the group went to the sheriff to learn more details.
Sheriff Dughan was at the notice board, pasting up new bounty posters. With a brush and paste in hand, he hummed a tune as he stuck sheets of parchment onto the wooden board.
Footsteps sounded behind him.
Without turning around, Dughan said, "All the bounties are on the board—take a look yourselves."
He finished posting the last sheet and turned around, casually sweeping his gaze over the group—
First glance: nothing unusual. Just a group of travelers.
Second glance—
Wait a second.
His gaze froze, locking onto Varian.
Good heavens!!!
Dughan's knees nearly gave out, and he almost dropped to the ground. His mouth opened—the word "Your Majesty" was about to slip out—
"Ha! Dughan!"
An arm suddenly hooked around his neck, tightening hard.
Varian, as if greeting an old friend, pulled him close, slinging an arm around his neck while vigorously patting his shoulder with the other hand.
"Dughan! We go way back!" His voice was bright and cheerful. "What brings you to Goldshire as sheriff? Long time no see!"
Dughan was being choked, his face turning red as he made muffled "urk—urk" sounds.
He desperately tried to speak, to salute, to say something—but that iron-like arm kept him from getting a single word out.
Varian kept smiling brightly.
"It really has been a while. My friends and I just want to check out the bounty notices. Don't mind us—we'll take a look ourselves. You go ahead and do your thing."
With that, he gave Dughan a heavy pat on the back.
Dughan staggered from the blow, finally managing to catch his breath.
He nodded frantically, his eyes screaming I understand, I won't say a word, then stumbled aside, clutching the notice board as he coughed violently.
Allen pretended not to notice anything and walked straight to the board.
The board was packed with notices—wanted criminals, lost livestock, and several missing persons cases.
Allen's gaze swept across the parchments before settling on one.
Bounty: Lupos
Description: A massive forest wolf with silver-gray fur and glowing red eyes. Suspected to be corrupted by shadow energy. Extremely dangerous.
Reward: 1 gold coin upon presenting its head or intact corpse.
A sketch was drawn below.
Everyone gathered around to examine it.
Stella widened her eyes.
"Wow—!" she exclaimed in delight. "What a cute little doggy!"
Everyone fell silent, staring at her.
There was nothing remotely "cute" about that thing.
Completely oblivious, Stella continued pointing at the drawing. "Look at its ears—they're standing up! So lively!"
Varian stepped closer, glanced at the sketch, then turned to Dughan, who was still coughing. The moment their eyes met, Dughan instantly straightened up, wearing a face that said I saw nothing.
So Varian walked over and tore the bounty notice off the board.
"This one," he said to Dughan, "I'll take it."
Dughan nodded repeatedly, looking like he'd gladly let him take the entire board if asked.
Varian rolled up the poster, tucked it into his coat, and returned to the group.
The carriage was ready. The horses were fed and rested. The driver stood prepared.
"Let's go," Varian said, mounting his horse in one fluid motion and flicking the reins. The white steed neighed proudly. "Justice awaits us!"
Allen, meanwhile, said with complete confidence: "Mathias, on the way to Darkshire, teach me how to ride a horse!"
"Got it!"
Dughan watched them leave, inwardly stunned.
Who was that young man? To have the king himself personally teach him horsemanship?
Could it be Prince Arthas of Lordaeron?
...
Stormwind.
The noble district—inside a luxurious banquet hall.
This was, on the surface, just another ordinary noble gathering.
And yet, not so ordinary.
Because tonight, every gaze in the hall was drawn—inevitably—to a single person.
A woman.
She reclined lazily on a cushioned chaise, one long leg elegantly crossed over the other. Beneath her silk gown, her full, alluring curves were faintly visible.
Long black hair. Deep violet eyes. Her lowered lashes carried a languid, seductive charm. The low-cut design of her dress revealed a tantalizing glimpse of fair skin at her chest.
She merely sat there, yet every other woman in the hall faded into insignificance.
The nobles flocked around her like moths to a flame, scrambling to curry favor.
"Lady Katrana, you look radiant tonight!"
"Lady Katrana, may I have the honor of inviting you to lunch tomorrow?"
Among them were barons, counts—even dukes. Those lofty figures, normally revered and untouchable, now resembled fawning lapdogs, hoping for nothing more than a glance or a smile from her.
And the lady?
She barely lifted her eyes, offering the occasional indifferent response—or none at all.
Yet the more aloof she was, the more eager they became.
Lord Malathrom pushed through the crowd, bending low before her.
His face was full of obsequious flattery—so much so that no outsider would believe he was a lord.
"Lady Katrana," he said cautiously, "my sincerest apologies… His Majesty had originally agreed to meet you today, but something unexpected came up, so…"
Those violet eyes turned toward him, cold and piercing.
Under that gaze, Lord Malathrom felt his bones go weak. He hurriedly continued, afraid of displeasing her: "It's all my fault! My poor arrangements!" He rubbed his hands, then suddenly brightened. "But—I did learn something else for you!"
Her violet eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of interest appearing.
Overjoyed, the lord quickly said, "I'm not sure if it concerns your brother… but that Allen Prestor from your family has recently arrived in Stormwind…"
He paused, carefully observing her expression, then asked tentatively: "Would you like me to arrange for him to meet you?"
"Oh?"
The corners of Lady Katrana's lips curved upward, a trace of amusement flickering in her eyes.
"My brother?"
She shifted her crossed legs with languid elegance, causing several nobles watching from the sidelines to swallow hard.
She lifted a slender finger, brushing it lightly across her red lips—a gesture dripping with allure.
"No need."
Katrana smiled.
It was a breathtakingly beautiful smile—yet for some reason, it sent a chill down one's spine.
"I'll pay him a visit myself."
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