Rommath’s gaze instantly sharpened, even taking on a hint of wariness.
“So you have a Holy Light-attuned constitution?” Alice couldn’t help but speak up, her eyes wide with surprise as she looked at Luo Xun.
“I’ve never trained in it, nor do I understand the Holy Light,” Luo Xun denied immediately.
“If Lady Liadrin sensed something, it might just be a coincidence…” “A coincidence?” Rommath murmured, clearly not entirely convinced.
He fell silent for a moment before suddenly shifting the topic to a much more pointed question.
“Then how much do you know about mana addiction?” The question caught him completely off guard.
Luo Xun’s chest tightened, but his face remained impassive.
“Mana addiction?
What’s that?” “Mana withdrawal syndrome,” Rommath rephrased.
“A set of symptoms that appeared after the elves were severed from the Sunwell’s energy.
You must have seen it in the kitchen last night.” Luo Xun understood immediately.
The old mage’s control over the manor was far tighter than he had imagined.
He also realized that the elder standing before him was the leader of the High Council of Quel’Thalas, and if he slipped up for even a second, he would be caught red-handed.
But if he wanted to survive in this world, House Sunfire could provide him with crucial beginner-phase protection resources.
Consequently, a certain level of cooperation was indispensable.
“I saw an elf convulsing,” he chose to speak the truth.
“Lady Alice said it was energy starvation.” “Seeing the once-mighty elves reduced to such a state, what are your thoughts?” Rommath’s eyes locked onto him like searchlights.
*Damn it, what are you trying to pull, old man?* Luo Xun almost jumped, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Alice give him a subtle nod.
He calmed himself down instantly.
The old man was deliberately provoking him, though he still couldn’t fathom what the purpose of this interrogation was.
“I don’t have many thoughts on it,” Luo Xun said cautiously.
“I just think that since it’s caused by a lack of energy, then theoretically, one should replenish that energy.” “If it were that simple, we would have solved it long ago,” Rommath said, guiding him along.
“Alice mentioned that when her mana addiction flared up, you managed to help her suppress it.
Have you mastered some method to resolve it?” Luo Xun’s mind stirred, feeling as if he had caught onto something, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came.
In the game, the blood elves took a few paths: fel energy, the Holy Light, or waiting for the Sunwell to be purified.
But right now, he couldn’t say any of that.
If he altered history, the entire bronze dragonflight might come and hunt him down!
“No, that was purely a coincidence.
I have no idea why it worked,” he shook his head.
“Since mana addiction is caused by a lack of magic, and since there isn’t only one type of magic in this world, maybe trying other types is an option.” These words were vague, but Rommath’s expression clearly changed.
“Other types?” There was a dangerous edge to his tone.
“What do you mean?” “For example…” Luo Xun’s gaze naturally swept past Liadrin.
“…some other, more stable energy?
I’m just guessing.
I don’t really understand these things.” Liadrin straightened her posture slightly, and the field of Holy Light around her seemed to brighten imperceptibly.
Rommath stared at Luo Xun for a long time, and then suddenly smiled.
It was not a warm smile, but a cold, calculating one.
“An interesting guess,” the old man said, finally picking up his utensils.
“Let us eat first.” Breakfast continued in a subtle silence.
Luo Xun chewed on the delicate elven food, but he couldn’t taste any of it.
He could feel Rommath’s eyes drifting to him from time to time, sharp as needles.
Once breakfast was finished, Rommath wiped his mouth and looked at Luo Xun again.
“Regarding your accommodations,” he said unhurriedly.
“Normally, non-elves are not permitted to reside in Silvermoon City long-term.
However, you saved Alice, and House Sunfire is not ungrateful.
I will allow you to stay temporarily, but on a few conditions.” Luo Xun set down his utensils and watched him quietly.
“First, you are not to leave the manor.
Second, you are not to touch any magical materials.
Third,” Rommath’s gaze sharpened, “all outings involving you and Alice must be reported beforehand.
This is not a request.” *Holy crap, the first and second conditions are just smokescreens.
The third one is his real objective.
But what does this old guy mean?* He turned to look at Alice and found that she had lowered her head, looking rather embarrassed.
Luo Xun’s heart skipped a beat.
*No way…* *After all this drama, is he just afraid I’ll run off with his daughter?
Though…
it’s not like that’s a bad option…* Luo Xun shook his head to clear his thoughts.
Having just transmigrated into this world, being able to stay in Silvermoon City was currently his best possible outcome.
As a human who couldn’t even speak the Common tongue, he could only imagine how disastrous his start would have been had he transmigrated to Stormwind instead.
For him right now, learning more skills in a relatively safe environment was far more practical than anything else.
Moreover, Alice had already promised to teach him some magical knowledge, an opportunity not just anyone could enjoy.
As for those so-called conditions, what was the big deal?
It wasn’t like he was losing anything, and he still needed answers to the mysteries surrounding his own body.
Although Rommath’s words sounded aggressive, they were also a form of laying down the ground rules upfront—a baseline of rules that actually granted him necessary protection.
With this in mind, Luo Xun nodded decisively.
“No problem!” Seeing how decisive the boy was, Rommath actually reined in his somewhat dismissive evaluation.
“Very well.” He stood up.
“Alice, come to my study.
Lady Liadrin, if it is convenient for you, please join us as well.” The three of them rose.
Alice gave Luo Xun a quick look before following Rommath.
As Liadrin passed by, she gave him a slight nod of greeting.
Her clear eyes seemed to hold unspoken words, but in the end, she said nothing.
Luo Xun was left alone in the dining room.
Staring at the unfinished breakfast on the table, he reviewed their brief confrontation in his mind.
The identity of a Stratholme orphan had passed for now, but Rommath’s suspicion hadn’t entirely vanished—the old mage’s gaze still held a distinct scrutinizing quality.
It was like…
how one would look at a pig trying to dig up his prized cabbages.
…
Luo Xun stood up and returned to his room on the second floor.
After closing the door, he leaned against it for a moment.
Outside the window, Silvermoon City was waking up in the morning light.
The tolling of a mage tower’s bell echoed from the distance, and even further away, the corrupted ruins of the Sunwell continued to swirl, releasing unstable fluctuations of energy.
Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he pulled the compound bow out of his bag and began to inspect it.
The limbs were intact, the string tension was perfect, and the pulleys turned smoothly.
This was the last object he had brought from his original home.
Yet, as he stayed longer in this world, those distant memories were gradually fading away.
He gripped the riser, the cool touch of the carbon fiber radiating through his palm.
In a world full of mysteries, only this thing was real.
He set the bow aside, lay back down on the bed, and closed his eyes.
The breakfast meeting was over.
He had passed the first test.
But Liadrin’s words kept spinning in his head: “The essence of your energy shares…
some distant affinity with the Holy Light.” The Holy Light.
On Earth, it was just a game mechanic.
Here, it was a faith that a group of elves would lay down their lives for, as well as a tangibly existing form of energy.
What did it have to do with him?
He recalled the feeling of that warm current entering his body during the probe, and that thing deep within him that had “stirred.” What exactly was it?
Outside the door, footsteps passed by in the corridor.
They were light and swift, quickly fading into the distance.
Luo Xun opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
He had a strange intuition that this “affinity” was far more than just a coincidence.