The moment he stepped into Silvermoon City, a wave of raw energy hit him.
Thick streams of golden energy flowed through the air like glowing rivers, winding along the streets, clinging to the walls, and even pulsing beneath the stone pavers.
The concentration was easily ten times higher than outside, but—it was unstable.
Many of these energy currents had “rupture points,” resembling blood vessels crudely stitched back together; wherever the flow hit a seam, it clogged and surged erratically.
Luo Xun could see energy bleeding from these ruptures, forming tiny pockets of turbulence.
In some spots, the energy overloaded, scattering fine, golden sparks into the air; in others, it was completely depleted, leaving dull, bald patches.
If this were a game, an achievement probably would have popped up: *Silvermoon City Day Trip, complete with a complimentary ticket to the magical turbulence show.* He muttered to himself but kept his expression neutral.
This place was entirely different from the magnificent spectacle in the game.
Soon, they passed a checkpoint—a low wall hastily thrown together from the debris of collapsed buildings, manned by six elven guards.
They wore Silvermoon City’s standard-issue armor, but it was heavily patched.
One guard’s breastplate had clearly been crudely cut down and resized from a much larger set.
“General Halduron!” the guard captain recognized him and saluted immediately.
But when his gaze swept over Luo Xun, his brow instantly furrowed.
“This is…” “Lady Alice’s guest,” Halduron said, keeping it brief.
“Make way.” The captain hesitated for a moment before waving his men to move the barricade.
As Luo Xun passed, he could clearly feel the guards’ scrutinizing gazes—filled with vigilance and suspicion.
“Humans rarely enter the inner city,” Alice said in a hushed voice.
“Especially…
now.” “Understood,” Luo Xun replied.
It wasn’t surprising.
Looking at it from another perspective, if an elf suddenly popped up in Stormwind Keep, the royal guards would probably have the same look on their faces.
Once past the checkpoint, they were officially inside the inner city limits.
The streets were sparse.
Unlike the hollow-eyed commoners in the ruins outside, the elves walking around this core area looked much more put-together.
Their clothes were clean, their faces carried a bit of life, and their eyes were clear.
Some were sweeping the streets, some were repairing buildings, and a few who looked like mages were gathered around a ruptured energy line, chanting spells to try and mend it.
But the moment they saw Luo Xun, everyone stopped what they were doing.
Their looks were strange, but not hostile—at least, not entirely.
It was a complex mix of surprise, curiosity, exclusion, superiority, and a trace of…
fear?
Fear of what?
Fear of humans?
Luo Xun couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
High elves looking down on humans was a given, but they shouldn’t be afraid.
Unless…
unless this war had truly changed something fundamental.
“Don’t mind them,” Alice’s voice drifted back, very soft.
“They are just…
not used to it.
No human has officially entered Silvermoon City for hundreds of years.
The last time was the embassy of the Arathor Empire, back when the Sunwell was intact and we still had the capital to be arrogant.” After a pause, her voice grew even quieter.
“Now, arrogance is the only thing we have left to hold onto.” Luo Xun didn’t reply and kept observing.
He knew exactly how these high elves were—they were the same way in the game.
Besides, he was only using this place as a stepping stone.
Once he found his own path to survival, the world would be his oyster.
Why stay tied down anywhere?
The buildings on both sides of the street were exquisite, built in the typical elven style: tall, narrow spires, smooth curves, intricate carvings, and magical crystals.
Yet many of the facades bore scorch marks, windows were shattered, and gardens lay overgrown.
Several buildings that were clearly storefronts were tightly shut, their doors plastered with seals or notices.
The entire city resembled a piece of shattered porcelain crudely glued back together, with cracks running everywhere.
Turning a street corner, the view ahead suddenly opened up.
It was a massive circular plaza paved with white marble.
In the center stood a grand fountain—though it had long run dry, leaving only a parched basin and a broken, limbless statue.
Surrounding the plaza were several of Silvermoon City’s most important buildings: the tallest white tower to the north was likely the Sunstrider Court, the Magisters’ Convocation Hall stood to the west, and the Farstriders’ Square and the bazaar lay to the east.
The general layout was very similar to the game, but Luo Xun wasn’t particularly familiar with Silvermoon City; in the past, he had mostly hung around Alliance territory.
On the south side of the plaza, in front of a manor that looked low-key yet remained grand, several people were already waiting.
A dozen or so elves dressed in matching deep blue robes stood there, the blazing golden sunfire emblem embroidered over their hearts.
It was obviously the crest of House Sunfire.
Leading them was an old man who looked to be in his sixties by human standards.
His silver hair was combed back immaculately, his face was tense, and his gaze was as sharp as a hawk’s.
He wore a dark gold mage robe and clutched a staff set with a massive blue crystal.
Rommath Sunfire.
Luo Xun recognized him at a glance.
He looked about seventy to eighty percent like his in-game self, though he appeared older and more fatigued, with a suppressed tension nearly spilling from the depths of his eyes.
The moment the old man saw Alice, his hand gripping the staff trembled noticeably.
But he quickly regained control, stepping forward with long strides to stop in front of his daughter.
The two stared at each other.
A silence hung between them for about five seconds.
“Father,” Alice spoke first, her voice soft.
“Alice,” Rommath’s voice was deep, carrying a certain metallic resonance.
“You are half a month late.” “I ran into some unexpected trouble.” “I know.
Halduron sent a brief report via sending spell.” Rommath’s gaze swept over his daughter, confirming she had no major injuries, before finally turning to Luo Xun.
“And this is the…
human?” “This is Luo Xun,” Alice introduced him solemnly.
“He saved my life.
If not for him, I probably wouldn’t have made it back.” Rommath scrutinized Luo Xun closely, his hawkish eyes sweeping from head to toe, leaving out nothing.
Luo Xun felt a subtle wave of magical detection brush over his body.
He didn’t move, letting the other man probe him.
Leaving aside whether he could block it, the real question was whether he dared to—this was a legendary figure.
Even if his family background didn’t match Luo Xun’s memories, he was still a certified powerhouse in the game.
Moreover, the light radiating from this man was terrifyingly intense.
The thick aura was the brightest Luo Xun had seen to date.
Though he didn’t know the exact extent of the elf’s power, his hunter’s instinct told him that Rommath could crush him with a mere flick of his finger.
It was no exaggeration; it was pure survival instinct.
Rommath’s gaze lingered the longest on Luo Xun’s face.
Those golden eyes held neither hostility nor warmth, only a cold, purely rational scrutiny.
He looked as if he were examining a sudden, intrusive variable, calculating how it should be handled.
Luo Xun met his gaze, looking him straight in the eye without evasion.
Yet in his mind, he found it quite amusing.
Ordinarily, if a daughter was saved, the first reaction should be gratitude.
But this old fellow chose to verify his identity first and measure his worth.
By the way, what was up with the old guy’s look?
It was as if Luo Xun were some kind of thief.
Luo Xun looked down at himself, somewhat bewildered.
He was quite handsome and upstanding—had anyone ever seen such a good-looking thief?