Liadrin opened her eyes.
Her rims were red, but she did not shed a tear.
Instead, there was a cold determination in her gaze.
“From that day on, I stopped praying.
The Holy Light…
it either doesn’t exist, or it doesn’t care.
Whichever it is, I no longer need it.” “But you were still using the Holy Light this morning,” Luo Xun said calmly.
“Power is a tool,” Liadrin replied flatly.
“I’ve learned how to channel it, just as mages channel the arcane.
I no longer believe in the divinity or righteousness behind it, but I recognize its utility.
In times like these…
utility is far more important than faith.” She looked at Luo Xun, her gaze turning sharp once more.
“This is why I am interested in you.
Your constitution…
it isn’t bound by any faith or dogma.
You use energy as naturally as breathing.
What does that mean?
Does it mean we might not have to rely on the Sunwell, on the Holy Light, or on any external ‘gifts’?
Does it mean we can find a way forward from within ourselves?” Her tone carried a hope bordering on desperation.
Luo Xun fell silent for a long time.
The tea grew cold, and its aroma dissipated.
“I don’t know,” he finally said.
“I’m just a hunter, Lady Liadrin.
I don’t understand magic, the Holy Light, or energy theory.
I can only tell you one thing: my body is indeed unique, but I don’t know how to control it, let alone teach others to do the same.” The light in Liadrin’s eyes dimmed for an instant, but it was quickly rekindled.
“Then we will study it together,” she said.
“Grandmagister Rommath forbade you from accessing magical archives, but he didn’t say we couldn’t converse.
I can teach you Thalassian and basic energy perception theory—under the guise of ‘language lessons.’ In the process, we can observe how your body reacts.” “Why?” Luo Xun asked.
“Why are you willing to help me?
Help a strange human?” Liadrin stood up and walked to the window.
Outside was the estate’s back garden, where several gardeners were trimming rose bushes.
“Because I see no other hope,” she said, her back to Luo Xun.
“The Sunwell is corrupted, mana addiction is consuming my people, and Silvermoon City grows more desperate by the day.
Prince Kael’thas is in Outland seeking a solution, but that path…” Perhaps remembering something, she ultimately shook her head.
“I do not trust demonic energy.
The Holy Light has proven unreliable.
What other choices do we have left?” She turned around, her gaze resolute.
“Alice is looking for a third path.
The observatory codex she brought back contains ancient energy attunement methods.
And you…
you are a miracle yourself.
Perhaps if we combine the two, we can find a way.
Perhaps not.
But at least I am trying, rather than sitting here waiting for death.” Luo Xun watched her from the side.
This elven priest was undergoing a rebirth after the collapse of her faith—from a devout believer into a pragmatist.
Her pain was real, and so was her determination.
“Will Grandmagister Rommath agree?” he asked.
“I will speak with him,” Liadrin said.
“I’ll use the excuse of helping our human guest fit in better and cause less trouble.
He won’t fully let his guard down, but he will at least permit limited contact.” She walked back to the table, picked up her cold tea, and drank it in one gulp.
“That is enough for today.
The half-hour is almost up.” She set the cup down.
“At this time tomorrow, I will bring the language textbooks.
We will start from the very beginning.” Offering a slight nod to Luo Xun, she turned and left.
Luo Xun sat in his chair, motionless.
The teapot still released a final wisp of steam, the scent of mint lingering in the air.
Liadrin’s offer was tempting.
Learning the language, touching upon basic theories, and secretly observing the mysteries of his own body—this was practically the only thing he could do right now.
But the risks were also great.
Rommath was watching, elven society was exclusionary, and he didn’t even have the full ability to protect himself.
He stood up and walked to the window.
In the garden, the gardeners were packing up their tools—their movements sluggish, weariness written across their faces.
Mana addiction, war, confusion…
who wasn’t weary?
Drawing the curtains, the room fell back into shadow.
Returning to the table, he opened the Thalassian primer.
The first page was the alphabet, with elegant curves and dots arranged in rows, their pronunciations marked alongside them.
He picked up the quill and ink Kaelan had left on the table and began to copy them down.
The nib scratched against the paper, making a soft rustling sound.
One letter, then another.
At his age, starting from scratch to learn an alphabet.
By the time he reached the third page, footsteps sounded outside once more.
It wasn’t Kaelan; the stride was lighter and more familiar.
Luo Xun set down his pen.
The door was gently pushed open, and Alice stood in the doorway.
She had changed out of her hunting gear into a dark-blue indoor gown.
Her face was still veiled in white silk, but the exhaustion in her eyes was plain to see.
“Did Liadrin come to see you?” she asked, her voice low.
“Yes.
She just left.” Alice stepped inside and closed the door behind her—an action that made Luo Xun pause.
She walked over to the table, looking at the open language textbook and the letters Luo Xun had copied.
“She is trying,” Alice said.
“We all are.” “And your father?” “We had an argument,” Alice said flatly.
“He thinks bringing back the codex was a waste of time and that my contact with you is a risk.
But in the end, he relented—a limited concession.
You may study the language with Liadrin, but it cannot involve any actual magical practice.
I will also continue studying the codex, but it must be under strict surveillance.” She paused.
“He still doesn’t believe there is a third path.” “And you?” Luo Xun asked.
Alice remained silent for a long time.
Light from outside seeped through the gap in the curtains, cutting a thin band of light across her face.
Her golden eyes shone particularly bright in the shadows.
“I must believe,” the girl said, her tone carrying a quiet resolve.
“Because the price of disbelief is watching my people slowly wither away in agony, or turn into the very things they once despised.” With that, she looked quietly at Luo Xun.
“Will you help me?” The question was direct.
No embellishment, no testing.
Luo Xun recalled his first month after crossing over, when he had faced absolute despair on several occasions.
And Alice was one of the few people in this world who was both willing and able to help him.
He nodded.
“I will.” Something flickered in Alice’s eyes before quickly vanishing.
She gave a soft nod and turned toward the door.
“Starting tomorrow, Liadrin will teach you the language.
I will also make time to come.
We have a lot of work to do.” She opened the door and left, gently closing it behind her.
Silence returned to the room.
Luo Xun looked at the half-copied alphabet on the table, at the strokes of ink that were not yet dry.
He picked up his pen once more and continued writing.
Letters.
Pronunciations.
Words.
A strange world, starting from these curves and dots, was slowly unfolding before him.
Liadrin wanted to teach him “energy perception theory,” Alice was researching “energy attunement methods,” and he had yet to even master basic Thalassian.
Would there be enough time at this pace?
He glanced out the window.
It was almost dark.
Magical lamps began to light up within the estate, casting soft halos of light along the corridors.
In his energy vision, those lights were golden.
Exactly the same as the ones around Alice and Liadrin.
What, exactly, was the nature of this world’s energy?