Chapter Twenty-Two: The Emissary of the Same Person

Varian’s hand trembled, and his calm expression nearly crumbled. He steadied himself, managing to keep the one-million-gold voucher from hitting the floor; picking it up would have been far beneath the dignity of a king.

Sitting nearby, Arthas barely suppressed a laugh. He had felt for some time that VanCleef was overly anxious, but it turned out the man had actually feared Varian would throw his cup as a signal, prompting dozens of Royal Lion Guards to burst from behind the curtains and hack him to pieces.

Varian was speechless. What did his people take him for? A tyrant? A senile despot? Would he execute a citizen of his kingdom on a whim? He was more likely to go after the corrupt nobility!

"Look up and see clearly what this is."

VanCleef thought to himself, *What is there to look at? Isn't it just a sharp sword?* But, under Varian’s command, he raised his head.

When he looked up, he was stunned. Where was the sword? Why was it just a piece of paper?

"Are you afraid I would kill you? How could I ever do such a thing?" Varian suddenly wondered if his subjects lacked trust in him, that they would think such things.

"This is one million gold coins, redeemable at the Blackwater Company. Even if you don't trust me, surely you recognize the Blackwater seal?"

VanCleef tremblingly took the heavy voucher. In his eyes, this was not just a piece of paper; it was the hope for survival for many workers of the Stonemason Guild!

Tears welled up in his eyes uncontrollably. VanCleef knew the Stormwind Kingdom’s finances were poor and that the King had to beg the nobles for money, but what good did it do for him alone to know that? Others would only think the kingdom was withholding their wages.

VanCleef had been desperate. If he didn't demand payment on behalf of the workers, they couldn't survive; yet, if he came to demand it, he was only intensifying the conflict between the King and the nobility.

The Kingdom of Stormwind had only just gotten back on track and could not withstand any major upheaval. VanCleef loved his country deeply and was willing to give everything for it and his fellow citizens, which was why he bore immense mental and material pressure every moment.

Coupled with the later influence of Onyxia, the engineer Edwin VanCleef eventually "died," replaced by an extremist thug—the leader of the Defias Brotherhood and a wanted criminal of Stormwind, Edwin VanCleef.

"I am sorry, I am so sorry! I misunderstood you." VanCleef could hardly imagine the effort Varian had gone through to secure this sum. "On behalf of all the workers of the Stonemason Guild, I thank Your Majesty for your mercy!"

Varian waved a hand, VanCleef’s reaction prompting him to reflect on his own shortcomings. "You shouldn't thank me, but this man—Prince Arthas of Lordaeron."

Only then did VanCleef notice the other handsome blond man sitting beside Varian, who had maintained a gentle smile that made people feel instinctively at ease.

In his previous state of extreme tension, VanCleef hadn't even noticed Arthas's presence. He hurriedly bowed to him. "Thank you for your generosity, Prince Arthas!"

"No need for formalities. I simply do not wish to see the people of Stormwind become victims of someone else's schemes," Arthas said, eyeing the current engineer and future master thief. "This million is a loan I provided to Varian, and he has agreed to use certain things to 'repay the debt'."

VanCleef guessed that this likely concerned him; otherwise, Arthas would not be telling him these things, so he listened respectfully to what followed.

"You are a brilliant engineer, and I have some engineering projects that require someone in charge. Do not worry about the pay. I want to ask, can you find workers willing to take on this project?"

That was no problem at all; it was actually a good thing for VanCleef and his colleagues, most of whom still intended to make their living as stonemasons. "I am willing!"

"Don't be so quick to agree. These projects I speak of are not within the borders of the Stormwind Kingdom, nor even on this continent. You had best find colleagues willing to follow you across the sea."

"That is easy." VanCleef nodded without hesitation. A significant number of them were victims of the Orcish wars—lonely souls who cared nothing for drifting. As long as there was a stable meal, they could set off immediately.

"Do you have any issues yourself?"

VanCleef hesitated before saying, "I may need to speak with my wife first."

Arthas exchanged a glance with Varian, who nodded in understanding. Arthas grasped his meaning. "In that case, why not bring your wife to Lordaeron? As my Chief Engineer, I will provide a mansion as your new home."

VanCleef had originally intended for his wife and child to stay in Stormwind, but Arthas’s next words left him shaken. "Do not be in such a hurry to refuse. Once you receive these wages and distribute them to the workers, those conspirators will be unable to touch the King of Stormwind, but they may well turn their sights on you. You should be aware of that, shouldn't you?"

"Move your family to Lordaeron, and I can protect you from retaliation during this storm."

"I understand, Your Highness. Your will is my desire."

After VanCleef left, Varian asked, puzzled, "Why do you value this 'Chief Engineer' so much?"

"This fellow was once a colleague of Mathias Shaw; he was one of the elites trained by Shaw himself."

"But you shouldn't be short of such talent, should you? I heard... you even have those from Ravenholdt?" Varian was still uncertain; Mathias Shaw was his intelligence advisor and the supreme commander of Stormwind's SI:7.

"But those master assassins of Ravenholdt cannot produce a talent who can handle both intelligence gathering and architectural design."

Arthas’s future goals lay beyond the continent of the Eastern Kingdoms, so he needed to build a bridgehead and his own master of espionage. VanCleef could fill both roles—not to mention that VanCleef’s daughter was also a natural assassin.

An investment with long-term returns.

"Regardless, you have done Stormwind a great favor this time," Varian said with sincerity. "As long as I am King of Stormwind, the Kingdom of Stormwind will always be a loyal ally of Lordaeron."

"Then let us toast to our friendship, may it last forever."

The two men shook hands firmly. What they did not know was that this friendship would forge the greatest united empire in human history.

After handling the VanCleef matter, it was already midnight. Before Arthas returned to his guest room, Varian mentioned one more thing.

"Kul Tiras and Dalaran will also be sending envoys, and it is the same person."

Arthas’s eyes lit up, but he immediately felt a pang of guilt. "I have... uh, not seen her for a while."

"I think she might truly be angry with you. Lordaeron isn't that far from Dalaran, and you haven't visited in an entire year."

"I really couldn't get away." Arthas was helpless; even by carriage, it was only a few days' journey to Dalaran, but he simply hadn't had the time last year.

"What good is telling me that? Think about how you’ll explain it to her tomorrow."

...

Stormwind City, Prestor’s Mansion.

Countess Katrana reclined on a velvet sofa, holding a glass of red wine. The scarlet liquid emitted an alluring glow under the soft, ambiguous lighting.

"Howard, what do you think of that human prince?"

The Countess’s knight-attendant stood by the door, answering his master’s question in a muffled voice. "He is strong, at least among humans."

"Oh? Even my most valiant knight thinks a human is impressive?" Katrana sipped her wine; her alluring red lips appeared even more bewitching against the backdrop of the liquid.

The knight named Howard did not speak this time, standing like a wooden post.

"Heh, but even such a fellow is merely a puppet of desire," Katrana mused, recalling Arthas’s burning gaze, and couldn't help but sigh with a laugh. "He doesn't even compare to Bolvar."

Draining the red wine in one gulp, Katrana licked her lips, still wanting more. "How fun. Humans are such an interesting species. Perhaps I can play here a little longer."

Yet, just as this thought crossed her mind, she shivered—because she thought of her utterly insane father. He was no longer the wise and benevolent Dragon Aspect of old. If she lingered in Stormwind for too long, a grim fate awaited her.

However, the Black Dragon Princess reflected that her mad father had been besieged by the other four Dragon Aspects during the Battle of Grim Batol years ago and had fled, heavily wounded. He likely had no energy to spare for her now, which brought her a sense of relief.

Her filial affection for her father had long since vanished along with that corrupted bloodline; all that remained was hatred. She loathed the father who had turned the Black Dragonflight into monsters, but constrained by the immense power of the Earth-Warder, she could only obey his commands.

Playing in Stormwind for a few more years shouldn't be a problem, right? Her father was severely wounded and would likely need a very long time to recover.

She just needed to keep an eye on her annoying brother so he wouldn't tattle to their father.

Thinking this, the face of Katrana—the guise of Onyxia—wore an expression of pure enjoyment. Despite being a dragon, she quite loved the extravagant life of the human nobility.

The encounter with Arthas today made her wonder if she could stir up even more trouble between the relations of Stormwind and Lordaeron.

"Arthas, heh, let me see what new tricks the Prince of Lordaeron has up his sleeve."