"Save me…"
"Save me…"
"Save…"
Allen once again stood in the middle of that boundless sea of blood.
The salty, metallic wind poured into his throat, while a sticky sensation crept upward from beneath his feet.
At the very center of the blood sea lay a person with the exact same face as his own.
Only, those eyes were wide open, staring hollowly at him as the lips moved faintly.
Allen let out a sigh and reached a hand toward that person.
"You're going to die, Allen," the other self lying there said.
...
Allen jolted awake and sat upright in bed. Cold sweat had already soaked through his clothes, while his heart pounded against his chest like a war drum.
Remembering the dream, he ignored the weakness in his body, took a deep breath, threw off the blanket, and limped toward the door.
The moment he stepped outside, he crashed straight into someone.
Vereesa.
Her gaze landed on Allen's face.
"You're awake?" She froze for a second, then frowned. "Why are you wandering around? You need proper rest!"
Allen looked at her.
Silver hair draped over her shoulders. She was not wearing leather armor, only a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, exposing a stretch of fair skin along her forearms.
He stared at her for quite a while before finally speaking.
"You're alive?"
Vereesa's face darkened. "Are you cursing me?"
She bent down, one arm hooking beneath his knees while the other wrapped around his back, lifting him into a bridal carry.
Before Allen could even struggle, he had already been placed back onto the bed. The blanket was pulled up again, tucked neatly all the way to his chest.
Allen lay there, buried beneath the tightly tucked blankets, silent for a moment. "Do you really have to be this rough?"
Vereesa did not answer.
She dragged a chair over to the bedside, sat down, crossed her legs, and folded her arms over her chest, looking every bit like she intended to sit there and personally make sure he rested properly.
Allen fell silent for a while. "Uh... alright then. Did we win?"
Vereesa looked at him.
Something flickered within those sky-blue eyes, and then she suddenly burst out laughing. "Allen, you were the one who personally dropped those meteors. Do you really need to ask whether we won? The only thing that could survive several meteors like that would be something on Deathwing's level."
Her smile faded slightly as her voice lowered. "Though this time, you broke another record. You were unconscious for a full fifteen days."
"Fifteen days?" Allen pushed himself halfway upright beneath the blankets. "Then what about eating, drinking, using the bathroom, and all that? How did I not starve to death?"
Vereesa suddenly found herself unable to speak. Her eyes shifted away from his face, while only the tips of her ears slowly turned pink.
"It was... Morgan... who helped you."
Then she hurriedly added, "Besides, how could someone starve after only fifteen days unconscious? There are people who stay in comas for years and are still kept alive with magic."
Allen tactfully changed the subject.
The two of them chatted idly about random things for a while.
Moonlight streamed in through the windows of Nethergarde Keep, falling across his face.
Under the pale moonlight, his features appeared sharper, more melancholic.
Vereesa's gaze lingered there, forgetting to look away.
"You..." she began softly, her voice quieter than expected. "So why exactly did you come to the Blasted Lands?"
"I just had a feeling the Blasted Lands were in danger, so I came."
Allen spoke lightly, as though he were merely talking about what he had eaten for dinner. "And let me tell you, I even did Dalaran a huge favor. I didn't even collect my reward before rushing over here."
Moonlight spilled across Vereesa's face.
Those sky-blue eyes reflected the moonlight outside the window… and him as well.
Her eyelashes cast a faint shadow across her cheeks, while her breathing remained soft and slow.
"It's fine." Her voice was gentler than the moonlight itself. "I'll make up the reward you deserve."
She tilted her face slightly. Under the moonlight, her fair neck seemed wrapped in a soft glow, while the tips of her pointed ears had already turned completely red.
"Close your eyes."
"Hm?"
Although Allen still sounded confused, he obediently closed his eyes.
Vereesa's silver lashes trembled faintly. Then she closed her eyes as well and slowly leaned toward him.
Allen caught a faint fragrance, like sun-warmed grass after rain.
At first, he wanted to say, "I don't need this. You might as well just give me money instead."
But the moment he felt those soft lips touch his, the words lodged in his throat and never came out.
So soft. So cool.
Like a flower petal landing upon the surface of water.
Like moonlight falling across the back of his hand.
He closed his eyes.
This was worth it too.
...
The next morning, Allen woke up feeling completely refreshed.
Don't misunderstand—last night was only a kiss. He was still injured, after all.
He felt much better today. Pushing open the door, he finally took the time to properly look around the fortress where he had spent the past fifteen days.
Nethergarde Keep was even larger than he had imagined.
He first headed to the teleportation chamber and sent a letter to Dalaran.
The letter was addressed to Emmy Malin, asking whether she had followed his instructions and tracked down the location where Kel'Thuzad had been buried.
At the time, the situation had been urgent. Killing Kel'Thuzad had been extremely important to Allen, but Vereesa's safety had mattered even more, so he had rushed to Nethergarde Keep without the slightest hesitation.
Fortunately, turning Kel'Thuzad into a lich was not such a simple matter. In the original timeline, it had been the death knight Arthas who carried Kel'Thuzad's corpse to the Sunwell of the high elven kingdom of Quel'Thalas in order to complete the transformation—an act that had even corrupted the Sunwell itself.
Lost in thought, he had only just reached the first floor when he ran into the king of Stormwind.
The man was walking inside while removing his armor piece by piece.
"Oh?" The man raised his head, and after spotting Allen, immediately joked, "Our magical advisor is awake? Sleep well?"
Allen froze for a second. "Varian? Why are you here?"
Standing nearby, Mathias Shaw frowned slightly.
He was somewhat displeased that Allen addressed the king directly by name.
But he said nothing. Even now, so many days later, the sight of those four meteors descending from the heavens remained deeply etched into his memory.
Varian, however, did not care. He strode over in a few quick steps and slapped Allen heavily on the shoulder. "Hahahaha! How could I not come when Stormwind's Royal Magical Advisor, Grand Mage, King of the Prison, Dragonslayer, and Great Astrologer are all here?"
Allen awkwardly twitched the corner of his mouth. "Your Majesty, there isn't enough room here for that many people."
Varian laughed even harder.
He had discovered that he had finally mastered the art of teasing Allen. Although the man was petty at times, if you praised him excessively right to his face, he would instead grow embarrassed and awkward.
"Of course I came here for serious business." His tone became slightly more proper, though the smile still lingered at the corner of his lips.
"Oh right, the mansion in the Park District has already been completed."
He paused, lowered his voice, and leaned closer to Allen. "And after you dropped those meteors, let's see who still dares criticize me for rewarding you with land."
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