Chapter 584

Chapter 584: Thanks From Feathermoon Stronghold

Waking up early, before the sun rose, everything was quiet outside.

Gray mist seeped into the dark forest, and unidentified bird cries echoed from the shadows.

Looking down from the terrace, there weren’t many people at Feathermoon Stronghold, just a sentry standing alone in front of the Sentry General’s cabin.

The sentry looked up and noticed him, nodded slightly, then gazed back towards the dock in the distance.

Even though Vereesa said she didn’t need to sleep last night, she is now sleeping peacefully as if she has let go of her worries from the night before.

Jesse looked at her, thinking back to their conversation last night, and realized that his mindset had changed a lot since then.

He remembered back in Dalaran, when he thought about Deathwing and Teron Gorefiend’s imminent arrival, his first instinct was to speak up and then step aside, letting others handle the danger.

The first time he went to Duskwood with Greed, facing Morgan Ladimore, he carefully thought about every word he wanted to say.

At that time, he was worried that his actions might lead the world in an unknown direction.

With so much happening now and so much time passing, he seemed to care less about these things, or rather, he had already forgotten about them.

Whenever he made important decisions, he didn’t have much time or space to think about so many things.

Faced with a crisis, he had to make a choice without much time for worrying or overthinking.

But has he reached a point where he can stop caring?

Still a long way to go.

Jesse can do everything he can to protect Vereesa, Greed, his parents, and all the people he cares about, to keep them safe from harm. But to make a bigger impact…

Although he has ideas in his mind and can foresee a possible future, having determination and passion alone is not enough.

Jesse tapped his fingers on the railing, looking at the Azuresong Mageblade and Gorefiendmagic wand on the table nearby.

Knowing that whatever plans he has for the future, he needs to focus on improving his skills step by step at the present moment, to have a chance at making a change.

By doing so, even if challenges come his way, he could at least make a difference, just like standing by Vereesa’s side to face them together, instead of being a mere spectator or hiding away while time passes.

In the morning, Jesse and a few others were resting in the first-floor hall, with stillness outside.

"Here she comes." Greed patted Jesse and said.

Jesse turned to see Shandris Feathermoon approaching alone.

"General." Vereesa walked to the doorway of the great hall and asked, "Do you know when we can leave Feathermoon Stronghold?"

"Anytime, Captain of the Rangers," Shandris replied. "But before we depart, I have one request."

"Please go ahead," Vereesa said.

"Can we keep Vyletongue’s head?" General Shandris said. "Satyrs have posed a threat to the Kaldorei and all of Kalimdor for years. Confirming the death of a Satyr leader holds great significance for us and the other Kaldorei. If his head is brought back to Astranaar, it will greatly motivate the sentinels and strike a blow to the will of those lurking Satyrs, which is crucial for us at the moment."

"We are mercenaries, General Shandris Feathermoon," Jesse emphasized.

"Of course, we won’t let your efforts go to waste," Shandris said to Jesse. "The sentinel forces here have a set of armor left from The War of the Shifting Sands, crafted from the exoskeleton of the qiraji Silithid."

She whispered something to the male elven guard next to her, and the guard took a box brought over by a sentinel, placing it on the table and opening it.

Inside the box was a green-patterned armor, with beautiful engravings. Jesse knew that Night Elves didn’t usually decorate armor unnecessarily, so this might be the actual color of the insect’s exoskeleton.

The Night Elf guard explained, "Long ago, many elite warriors who participated in The War of the Shifting Sands possessed such armor. But after a thousand years, many were lost or stolen. Nowadays, with the Qiraji rarely seen surfacing underground, it’s hard to find a qiraji leader who can provide such precious materials. So every piece left behind is a valuable treasure to be cherished."

A Silithid shell armor? Jesse couldn’t remember if there was such an armor in the game.

General Sentry said, "You helped Sentry hunt down a Satyr leader, and also assisted Celebras in communicating with the long-lost Guardian Zaetar. This gift is a thank you from the Kaldorei."

Seeing everyone hesitate, she added, "You may consider keeping Vyletongue’s head. I understand if you have other uses, Sentry’s troops do not intend to force anything."

"If you want to leave Feathermoon Stronghold, you can come to me anytime, guests."

After saying this, she slightly bowed to everyone, left the hall with her guards. Greed, who was eyeing the armor greedily, but remained silent for a while.

"I thought she would give us money," he lifted his head and questioned, "What should we do with this armor now?"

Mosa said, "Greed, you should wear it, you should fight."

"I feel the same way," Vereesa said, "This armor is too heavy for me."

"Don’t you like this armor?" Jesse asked.

"I like it, but whenever I change my appearance, I end up stretching out all the nice clothes," Greed tugged at his loose leather jacket and said, "Maybe I should just keep wearing this, it’s cheap and practical. And if I forget to take it off when transforming, it won’t completely rip apart. After returning to normal, I can still wear it!"

After saying that, he touched the tattered hem of his clothes and said, "Well, if I forget again, it will truly be ruined."

Jesse asked, "What about the armor of other Mountain Kings when they transform?"

"That’s why noble families like the Anweimar have ancestral enchanted armor and helmets. They can adjust to their larger size!" Greed scratched his neck and said, "I can’t afford to have such things made, so I have to wear loose clothing or remember to take it off before growing."

Hearing this, Jesse remembered that dwarves indeed always fought transformed half-naked.

"This magical armor can adapt to the wearer’s shape," a female Night Elf’s voice came from nearby.