The great hall fell silent after the envoys had left.
Arvis said nothing, letting Lord Valdermar process the fact that his friend had been killed by his own son. However, that passive state didn’t last long, and he gave several orders to his advisors and knights, who dispersed rapidly.
He nodded to Lady Blaumeux, and she left as well, Stormwind disguises abandoned. Arvis waited until he calmed down. “I apologize for the deception, Lord Valdermar,” he said.
“Understandable. The secret was too big. If I hadn’t heard it from that traitor’s mouth, I never would have believed it. To think that …” he muttered, then paused. “I still remember him as a young, bright-eyed child, trying to copy his father’s style…”
“These are dark times,” Arvis said, which was not an answer, but there was no answer that would help him process it better. Not with the personal connection he had.
Then, Lord Valdermar turned to him properly, studying him for a long moment. He examined him in the same way in return. Lord Valdermar had a good reputation, and the state of the city showed that it was well earned. The city wasn’t perfect, but the fact that he was trying to accommodate everyone despite the risks was proof of achievement.
“You’re a mystery, Lord Godwyn. A no one, unremarkable, only to appear from nowhere.”
This time, Arvis said nothing about being chosen by the light, or his bloodline. He could see that the more he spoke, the more Lord Valdermar was inclined to distrust, though he didn’t know how much of it was reasonable caution after learning the betrayal of Renault, and how much of it was whatever magic they had cast on him. “Someone has to hold the line,” he said instead.
Arvis wished that he could have captured the caster, but a mage, no matter how skilled, wasn’t worth potentially alienating Lord Valdermar.
“Maybe,” Lord Valdermar said. “There are rumors about you being chosen by the Light.”
Arvis shrugged with deliberate dismissiveness. “If I am, it’s news to me. I certainly haven’t spoken by a being of light … but then who did?” He paused just an appropriate amount before he continued. “But, speaking of light, I felt some kind of dark energy in the room. May I recommend that you meditate while channeling the light?”
“Are you going to claim that they had left a curse?”
Arvis caught his tone, with a dark inflection that felt unnatural. One that Lord Valdermar most likely had missed. Suddenly, he was glad he hadn’t confronted the Scarlet Crusade about it. “I’m not going to claim anything. I’m just suggesting a paladin to sit down, focus on the embrace of the light, and process the devastating news he had just received about one of his oldest friends.”
He didn’t miss the irony of trying to convince someone to delve deeper into the light. Often, he tried to argue the opposite. Dispelling it directly would have been faster, but the situation was too complicated for it.
"You suspect I have been... what. Enchanted?"
“Not out of the question,” he admitted. “If I were a traitor working for the undead, I would bring at least one mage to make sure things stayed favorable.”
Marinn looked at his father, and nodded. “Makes sense, father. I can summon mages to guard you if you want.”
“No need,” Lord Valdermar said, closed his eyes, and the holy light radiated from him, a golden radiance around him. Despite his distress, it was the steady, controlled glow of a genuine paladin of the Silver Hand rather than the flickering uncertainty of the fanatic crusaders.
Two hours had passed in silence. Instead of running around, maybe even hunting down the Scarlet Crusade envoy, Arvis decided to stay in the room. The alliance with Lord Valdermar was the most important thing.
More importantly, he was aware that the current situation represented a unique opportunity. Lord Valdermar had just learned one of the potential alliance targets was traitor, and his old friend had been assassinated. And, he would soon realize he had been cursed without noticing.
Maybe he could use it to turn the alliance into something the System would appreciate even more.
When Lord Valdermar opened his eyes, his expression had changed entirely.
"It was there," he said quietly. "I felt it. Some kind of dark blanket, one that would have stayed in there if I hadn’t focused on my own mind, and probably dissipated on its own in a few hours, leaving me to believe that these are my thoughts.” He paused. “Could Renault be…”
“Maybe, but you also saw just how little impact it had. Making you feel distaste toward another lord who had been creating a lot of trouble is very different from trying to entice patricide.”
Lord Valdermar took a deep breath. "House Valdermar owes you a debt, Lord Godwyn. Another one, it seems. You have prevented me from entering an alliance that might have destroyed the last bastion of Lordaeron."
Arvis nodded, and they gathered around the table.
“I’m afraid the situation with the Scarlet Crusade is even worse than you think,” he said, and gave a summary of everything they had done. Including the villages they sacrificed. “Luckily I had caught up on time, and Windrunner rangers were kind enough to help me gather them,” he finished.
“Things are changing. Getting better,” he said. “Stratholme is no longer empty.”
Arvis shook his head. “No, it is not,” he said. “We already have two hundred thousand people, but we can comfortably house another million, especially since we are getting supplies from Quel’Thalas.”
“You want to grow your city. Is it ambition or altruism?”
Arvis shrugged. “Is there a difference when two of us are the only ones that care to save people? Lordaeron is gone forever. The king is dead, the prince is a traitor, and even the Silver Hand has shattered.”
“The Alliance…” Lord Valdermar started. Arvis didn’t interrupt, letting him continue. Predictably, his voice faded.
“The Alliance is dead,” Arvis said. “Alterac might as well not exist. Kul Tiras is exhausted and stretched thin. Dalaran wants to sit back. Dwarves might want to help, but with reinforcements from the South can’t get to us without being blocked by the undead. Even the nobility of the elves refused to help. If it hadn’t been for Windrunner family finally refusing to follow the council’s will, elves would have stayed in their forests.”
“So, you want to be the king?”
He took a deep breath, and radiated light, but carefully regulated it to make it look like an unconscious reflex. “Why not? From what I see, Lord Valdermar, we only have two options. You, or I? Do you want the weight of the crown, because if you do, I am willing to give it up.”
He had no intention of doing so, but he knew that he was looking at a man overwhelmed by his own responsibilities, one who would never volunteer for more.
If the situation had come before the refugee crisis, Lord Valdermar might have been more ambitious, but he was already exhausted, and being saved from a disastrous diplomatic mistake at the last second didn’t make him any more confident.
“No. I don’t have that strength. Did you know that I was one of the first paladins, trained together with Turalyon? But, even then, I knew that I didn’t have their conviction and will. The responsibility of a whole country… It’s not something I can carry. I don’t have the strength.”
“I disagree,” Arvis said. “I won’t lie and say geography didn’t help, but there’s a reason you’re ruling the only city in Lordaeron that’s still intact. Sometimes, knowing what not to do is even more important.”
He shuffled, relaxing slightly. “Maybe,” he said. “Let’s be candid, then. You want to declare yourself the King.”
“Yes,” Arvis replied, his tone filled with conviction. It wasn’t entirely fake. If it hadn’t been for his power depending on it, he might have followed a different path, but it no longer mattered.
He had never been devoid of ambition. It was only blunted by the circumstances.
“I need specifics before I can commit to it,” he said. “King of what?”
Arvis shrugged. “It depends. Assuming you’re willing to swear fealty, Eastern Lordaeron is the obvious domain. My alliance with Windrunner family is solid enough that I expect at least a portion of Quel’Thalas to end up under my control. The rest depends on exactly what survives. I would want to take over all Lordaeron, but I probably wouldn’t fight if Kul Tiras choses to expand and took some of the western lands.”
“Do you want to start your rule by ceding land?” he said.
“That assumes I’m trying to rebuild Lordaeron. I’m not,” he said. “I want to build a safe land for the survivors, where they could survive before we can consider thriving.” Once again, he was being unusually direct, but his audience clearly appreciated it. “You don’t have to decide immediately. You can visit Stratholme and see how it’s thriving. We have a more important issue.”
“The refugees.”
Arvis nodded. “That also needs to be talked about. Unfortunately, there’s something even more urgent.”
“There’s nothing more urgent. The city is well over capacity. Priests are already working overtime to prevent an outbreak of disease, and it doesn’t help that we have to quarantine every section separately to prevent blighted grain from being slipped in.”
“I understand, but there’s one more important thing. Where’s the undead army?”
He paused. “You’re right. I had assumed that they had too many losses during the Quel’Thalas invasion.”
“I wish,” Arvis replied. “We have managed to hurt them somewhat, but it was only an inconvenience. They have something else in mind. Something important enough to ignore both Quel’Thalas and Tyr’s Hand.”
“Do you want to chase them and prevent it?”
Arvis chuckled. “No. I am strong, but not that strong, and we don’t have an army large enough to matter, especially since we can’t leave our land undefended,” he said. Instead, he pulled a map. “I have something more practical in mind. We will build three defensive lines, expanding along Thondril River. We put a mobile defensive force and magical defenses, using the geography to our advantage, slowing any potential attack.”
“If you say we’re going to assign recruits—“
“No. On the contrary. We’ll assign our most mobile elites there, so if the undead attacks, we can make them hurt as much as possible while crossing the river, and then conduct a fighting retreat. Sylvanas had already done it once, with merely a few thousand rangers with little support, and she had managed to inflict some devastating losses. We replicate that at scale. That way, stretch to Darrowmere Lake, while our flank will be still protected by trolls.”
“It’ll stretch our forces dangerously,” Lord Valdermar replied, but it was a gentle declaration.
“Not necessarily. Elven alchemists helped us develop a potion that, when combined with the correct food, allows us to bring recruits to fighting shape in a week. Technique takes more time, but a line of strong man, swinging their hammers, is enough to crush the skeleton bones.”
“Certainly better than what we have? Can it be produced en masse?”
“To a degree. The potion itself is not that complicated, and we have enough elven apprentices handling it,” he said. Even without official teachings, a lot of elves knew alchemy, which was a natural consequence of living in a magically dense forest with a lot of ingredients.
From there, the discussion turned tactical, the number and composition of the forces, the paths the refugees could take to move to Stratholme, merits of building a new fort on the ruins of Corin’s Crossing.
That had been the first phase of the discussion, where Lord Valdermar listened and shared opinions, but didn’t commit to anything.
It changed when his thousand-strong force arrived, doing a diplomatic show, which included sparring with Valdermar knights; the results had been enough to change Lord Valdermar’s attitude significantly.
Especially after he had passed a few bottles of the new training potion to new recruits, and personally trained them on the new hammer style he had trained, an hour was enough to achieve shockingly effective changes.
From there, the discussion changed, and Valdermar became far more proactive. The day passed in a mixture of pageantry and strategic discussion. Arvis wished that he could skip that, but some things were impossible to avoid even during a literal apocalypse.
After a public celebration dinner, he retreated to the study with Lord Valdermar and Marinn.
Lord Valdermar looked at his son. Marinn said little during their private exchange, his mind already made up; a consequence of Corin’s Crossing. He was happy that it was paying off surprisingly well. "What’s your opinion?" Lord Valdermar said. “As my heir, you’ll inherit my seat soon. You’re the one who will live with the decision. What’s your opinion?”
Marinn nodded. "I have spent more time with Arvis than you have, long before all this mess had begun. I have seen him ignore insults and act like minor, powerless noble despite having enough might to silence all if he wished, showing humility. I also saw him throwing himself into an undead army alone just to give commoners time to retreat, at a time when people only represented a burden. Even if everything else he told us is lies, what I saw is enough for me to call him my king proudly.”
Arvis nodded, somewhat amused that the misunderstandings around his power helped him more than his actual achievements, but that was life.
Lord Valdermar paused. “And you have no ambition to declare yourself a king now that the opportunity presents itself.”
Marinn laughed. “I can’t say that the idea doesn’t tempt me, but you raised me to know my limits, father. And, I know I would make a poor king even in peace, let alone … this.”
Lord Valdermar was quiet for a long moment, looking between the two.
"I am an old man," he said, his tone carrying a sense of finality. "I have served Lordaeron my entire life. I fought against bandits, orcs, trolls, dragons, death knights, and warlocks. I was happy to retreat back to a small, unimportant port, away from the politics… I don’t have the strength to build a new country,” he said as he removed his sword from its sheath and passed it to Marinn.
“Father, I—“
“No. That’s the better way. This way, I can take military command without the burden of managing the city. The plan with Thondoril River is solid, but it would require an experienced commander. Unless Lady Windrunner can live there full time, I’m the best candidate.”
“That’s true,” Arvis said. He didn’t have many concerns about it. For one, at least in the beginning, Valdermar knights would be the largest part of the main force, as they had the necessary mobility, and having Lord Valdermar as the commander was the obvious solution.
Training mounted warriors like knights was far more complicated than training infantry, even with all his advantages.
He took a few steps back, allowing them to have a father-son talk. Marinn seemed reluctant, but after some talk, he accepted it. Then, they approached together, knelt in front of him, and swore fealty.
[Feat Achieved! Annex Eastern Lordaeron
+1x Platinum Advantage Random Gacha ticket]
[Feat Achieved! Declare your kingship
+1x Gold Advantage Random Gacha ticket]
[Feat Achieved! Gain loyalty of House Valdermar
+1x Gold Advantage Random Gacha ticket]
Arvis stood and took the offered hand. “Stand, Lord Valdermar. General Valdermar,” he said, following tradition, surprised by the smoothness of their acceptance. A part of it was luck, but without all his preparation, he might have ended up Tyr’s Hand as an enemy.
“Do we announce it?”
“Let’s not do until at least we see what the Scourge has planned,” he said. “Instead, why don’t we take a break before we start discussing the plans on how to move the excess population to Stratholme without causing a crisis.”
With that, they dispersed, leaving him alone to get his newest toys.
He started with the first gold ticket.
[Baruka's Dagger]
{Uncommon Item: Solo Levelling - A large dagger wielded by a frost elf chieftain. In addition to being extremely durable and sharp, this dagger increases the potency of ice and cold abilities that use it as a focus.}
[Nazar]
{Rare Item: An eye-shaped blue glass charm that passively grants the user's decent resistance to curses and negative energy. If the user is afflicted with an Epic rank or above curse, the Nazar will break to nullify the curse.}
He picked Nazar. He didn’t need it with his curse resistance, but it would make an excellent gift for Sylvanas.
[Pugilist Apprentice]
{Rare Trait: You are a Pugilist who has just embarked on their path. You learn and train Martial Skills faster, and your natural intuition for combat and martial arts is heightened.}
[Ember]
{Uncommon Ability: Allows you to produce and control moderate flames that can be shaped into a variety of attacks like fireballs and fire arrows.}
The second gold was a harder call. Both were moderately useful, and he went with Pugilist Apprentice. With that, he could hopefully design even better fighting styles for his army.
It was time for the platinum ticket.
[Void Childe]
{Rare Trait: You are a child of the void, giving you enhanced spatial awareness, you can sense a portal opening a kilometre away and all Space-based abilities are more potent and you master them faster.}
[Topaz Annihilator]
{Elite Item: DnD - This magic ranged weapon resembles a musket, but in lieu of any ammunition, it holds a glowing yellow scale from a topaz dragon in its heart, just like the founding fathers intended. Shots released from this gun are capable of rotting living creatures and disintegrating physical objects alongside the physical impact.}
His eyes widened as he immediately picked Void Childe. The weapon was clearly strong, but compared to having affinity toward space, it was nothing. Merely enhancing his senses toward detecting teleportation was promising enough.
Then, with it, there was a chance that he could actually learn how to cast long-range teleportation, which was by far the most complicated spell. It was an already a devastating tool for archmages … but for him, it would be a true game changer.
Mobility was important for a warrior king.