Chapter 633

Chapter 633: The Strange Orb

Wearing the Robe of the Void, Jesse stepped outside and touched the collar torn by Dethmoora’s Shadow Bolt Volley.

Gazing at the sparkling canal and then the sun, he felt the gloom of last night’s nightmare fade slightly.

He headed straight for the Elf Mages’ residence in the Mage Quarter but spotted Krasus in the Garden District.

This red dragon disguised as a High Elf stood a full head taller than most male High Elves. His blood-red robe made him conspicuous, as if afraid others wouldn’t realize he was dangerous.

Yet near the wizard tower, he drew little attention. After all, elf mages in bizarre attire weren’t rare here.

The red-robed mage sat reading on a stone bench. Jesse took a seat beside him. "Master Krasus."

"Jesse." Krasus turned a page corner. "Have you decided?" Staring at the book, Jesse suddenly wondered: *Could Deathwing detect written words?* He didn’t know.

He studied Krasus, realizing every action now demanded utmost caution. Deathwing couldn’t read his mind—that much was certain. Nothing else could be trusted.

*Maybe he sees through my eyes.*

If Deathwing discovered his betrayal, the dragon would end him instantly. There was no margin for error.

*Could this sigil explode me at any moment?*

Jesse knew too little about the sigil. Last night’s haze had left no time for proper thought.

"I’ve decided. If this task must be mine."

"Thank you, Jesse." The worry lines on Krasus’s brow smoothed. "Truthfully, this burden isn’t yours. But without you, our future is uncertain."

He produced a purplish orb from his robes. "Take this."

"What is it?" Jesse asked.

*Is this the extraordinary item Deathwing mentioned?*

"A magical illusion orb crafted by a trusted ally," Krasus explained. "Activate it, and you’ll become an Orc."

*This isn’t a Deceptive Orb, is it?*

Deceptive Orbs were game relics that transformed users into enemy factions—humans to Orcs, Night Elves to Forsaken.

Jesse stared at the orb until Krasus whispered, "Not here, Jesse."

"Right." Jesse glanced around. He hadn’t planned to test it, but had forgotten they were in Stormwind. Turning into an Orc here would cause chaos.

Krasus warned, "Its magic alters your clothes and gear to fit an Orc’s frame. Untampered, it lasts two days. You’ll feel its power wane near the end—a reminder to renew it."

"But its rushed creation carries a flaw: spellcasting while disguised risks breaking the illusion. Weapons and speech pose no issue. Yet never draw Azuresong Mageblade, Jesse. Its Arcane surge exceeds even an Arcane Missile—the illusion can’t withstand it."

"Will this fool the Orc-controlled Red Dragon?" Jesse asked.

Krasus smiled faintly. "After this mission, I’ll introduce its maker. Worry less about dragons—I’m more concerned Orcs might notice inconsistencies. A human posing as their kin? Orcs spot such details."

The words eased Jesse’s doubts.

Alexstrasza and her consorts remained trapped in Grim Batol. As the Red Dragons’ acting leader, Krasus wouldn’t overlook this.

"I understand," Jesse said. "I’ll be cautious."

"Then I must return to Dalaran," Krasus declared. "The Council tasks me with tracking black dragons—Deathwing himself above all."

At "Deathwing," the red dragon’s eyes flickered. His earlier relief vanished.

*Even this mighty dragon fears his mission and his present. Yet for his beloved, he faces it.*

Somehow, that thought balanced Jesse’s own dread.

"If I’m the only one who can do this, Master Krasus, ensure the Red Dragons remember this choice." He aimed for courtesy, but icy detachment seeped through.

Krasus met his gaze silently. "They’ll remember, Jesse Seso. As will I—whatever the outcome."

The arrogance Jesse despised yesterday seemed absent now. *Would he take that as a threat?*

*I hope he does.*

Watching Krasus vanish down the street, Jesse touched his arm. *What would Deathwing think hearing this?*

*Does he listen constantly? Occasionally? Or does he need spells or scrying tools?*

He recalled the dream: the father of black dragons had swiftly accepted his false loyalty. Why such certainty?

*Overconfidence? Belief that a mortal would crave immortality at any cost? That someone so insignificant couldn’t defy him?*

*Or… he simply knew Jesse wasn’t lying.* Jesse thought of Molofeel.

*Could emotions betray truth?*

Molofeel once advised: control emotions to lie undetected.

Black dragons were shadow masters. Sensing lies through dark energy’s ripple? Expected. Without such power, Deathwing’s trust seemed reckless.

*Did I lie in the dream?*

No. He’d genuinely wished to avoid the nightmare’s visions, to grasp immortality and happy endings—knowing refusal meant death.

But awake?

Jesse realized: wrong words *or* misplaced emotions could doom him. Perhaps mere paranoia—yet he couldn’t risk it.

No room for mistakes.

A single slip would reveal his deceit: plans to free the Red Dragon Queen, steal dragon eggs, end the black dragon lineage… or kill Deathwing himself.

Cold dread prickled Jesse’s spine. *Even these thoughts feel dangerously loud.*