Chapter 762

Chapter 762: The Visit to Goldshire

At noon, Jesse rode Aarna into Goldshire. A young man in a long robe, adorned with several rings and riding a beautiful mare, inevitably drew considerable attention as he entered the town.

He entrusted Aarna to the Lion’s Pride Inn for safekeeping, then crossed the street to Erlan’s residence. Upon reaching the door, Jesse could already clearly smell the seductive scent of a succubus.

He knocked on the door and asked, "Is Mr. Erlan Drudgemoor at home?"

He distinctly heard a clattering noise from inside, followed by faint voices. Soon after, the door swung open with a bang, releasing a wave of demonic aroma. Inside, there was not just the smell of the succubus but also a hint of fel magic.

"Jesse, I recognized your voice," Erlan said as he glanced down the hallway.

"It’s just too obvious, Erlan," Jesse remarked. "Can’t you keep your succubus in check? Aren’t you afraid of being caught by the guards?"

"The guards of Goldshire aren’t all as sensitive to demons as you are… Jesse," Erlan teased with a smirk. "Want to come in and have some fun?"

"I’m not here to play with you."

"Then come in and sit for a while."

Jesse nodded and stepped inside. Erlan walked into the inner room where his succubus sat bare on the bed, swinging her legs while gazing at him.

"Jesse Seso, I have never forgotten you," she said softly.

"I forgot your name," Jesse replied coldly.

"How sad…"

She seemed even smaller than Molofeel was when she first arrived in Azeroth. Even with two little wings on her back and her light red skin, the fur and hooves on her legs made it clear she was a real demon, not a little girl. Still, her nakedness and exposed private parts left Jesse feeling entirely uncomfortable.

Two years ago, the spell to summon succubi was still a mystery to many in the Kingdom of Stormwind. Zardeth and Gakin were often confused, testing the spell repeatedly to figure out its use, which led to a serious accident.

Now, not to mention the Dark Iron Dwarves who had long known how to summon succubi, even humans had plenty of them by their sides. Even a weak goblin warlock like Gorzeeki managed to get a succubus with shapeshifting abilities.

It could be said that the warlocks in Azeroth had rapidly grown in their control over dark magic since the opening of the Dark Portal. Jesse wondered if this was related to him.

However, Erlan’s succubus had one special feature: her eyes didn’t contain mere arcane energy but evil green fire.

Though it wasn’t burning too brightly and was dimmed by the oil lamp Erlan had just lit, Jesse could still recognize that it was fel magic.

The power of a succubus was closely tied to her master, especially for a master like Erlan who freely infused magical energy into her. It seemed Zardeth was right; Erlan had been quite focused on fel magic lately.

Erlan waved at the succubus, signaling her to go back inside, then grabbed two small cups and filled them. Jesse observed him closely but found no signs of corruption on him.

"The usually elusive Jesse Seso shows up at my door today, which must mean something big. So, spill it. We can have a drink while we talk," Erlan said.

"I remember you mentioned you are a member of the Mason’s Guild," Jesse said.

Erlan plopped down in his chair, crossing his legs as he replied, "If Gakin hadn’t died, I would have preferred to see myself as a visitor to The Slaughtered Lamb with the Mason’s Guild, Jesse, not someone planning to join you for real. That arrogant guy looked down on us with ordinary dark magic talent; I don’t know where he got his confidence."

"Let’s not talk about that dead man. I heard you went to Grim Batol and rescued the Queen of the Red Dragons. Is that true… or is it just a wild story the King made up to persuade you to become a court mage?"

"The real events might be even wilder than what you heard," Jesse replied, taking a sip of his drink. "Is this mead from Kul Tiras?"

"You can actually tell?" Erlan said, surprised.

"After spending so much time with dwarves, you learn things whether you want to or not," Jesse replied helplessly.

"Ha, listen to this—there’s crazier gossip," Erlan tapped the table with his finger. "Some nobles say Alleria Windrunner’s sister is already with you. They saw Marshal Turalyon marry an elven noble, and now they’re so desperate for stories they’re making things up…"

Jesse leaned back in his chair and said, "Vereesa Windrunner is indeed with me."

Erlan’s smile froze on his face. After a moment of silence, he said, "Well… I guess I should be shocked. Sitting here is a hero who fought his way out of an orc den, saved the Red Dragon, and rescued the Alliance. But honestly, I’m not surprised at all. Jesse Seso, you just have this vibe where anything weird happening to you feels normal."

"Zardeth is the same as you," Jesse said. "When he heard about it, he didn’t react; everything stayed normal. Actually, I’m glad for that because I didn’t want to do that in the first place. I don’t want to feel like a different person after it all and have people treat me like a freak."

"You’re definitely not a freak," Erlan said. "But I’m different from Zardeth. Zardeth stays calm because he’s always stuck-up. Not just you—even if he met Anduin Lothar or Medivh himself, he’d probably keep that same snobby look. He might be jealous and impressed inside, but he has to keep up that ‘Blackclaw Crow’ act. You know what I mean?"

Jesse couldn’t help but laugh and said, "I understand."

"By the way," Erlan glanced sideways and remarked, "Could you ask Ms. Vereesa to introduce me to an elven girl? I’d like to experience that too…"

"Get lost." Jesse’s expression darkened. "Go find one yourself in Dalaran."

"Sadly, I don’t think I’ve got the charm to attract an elven girl," Erlan stroked his beard. "Look at you with that boyish face. Elves usually fancy lads like you, but you’ve changed these past two years—grown too tall. Jesse Seso, you’re nothing like that pushover you used to be. If you went to Dalaran now, I doubt you could seduce someone like Vereesa Windrunner."

"’Seduce’?!" Jesse drained his cup. "Drop it. I didn’t come just to drink—this is serious business."

"What does my guild need to do?" Erlan asked.

"I want your help rebuilding a Mage Tower," Jesse replied.

"The Tower of Ilgalar!" Erlan’s eyes lit up. "So the rumors are true! You really own the Tower of Ilgalar now? You might be the youngest Mage Tower master since Stormwind’s founding. This is major—I can’t decide alone. You’ll need to talk to our boss, Edwin."

"Edwin VanCleef?" Jesse asked.

In the game, Edwin VanCleef had once been Stormwind’s greatest enemy. Unlike the distant orcs, the troll empire of Zul’Gurub to the south, or the roaming Gnoll tribes in forests and riverlands, his bandit gang posed a far more immediate threat.

After the Mason’s Guild split from Stormwind over unpaid wages, VanCleef led its members to form the Defias Brotherhood, crippling the war-recovering kingdom.

Their conflict turned the entire Westfall into a no-man’s-land. Fleeing settlers abandoned vast farmlands to wild boars and Gnolls. Moonbrook became ruins, its prosperity-bringing mine now the Brotherhood’s den.

"That’s him." Erlan studied Jesse’s face. "What? Doubting our guild’s skill? Let me tell you—we built Nethergarde and its Mage Tower. That tower took a demon king’s charge head-on… Sure, it might’ve collapsed without you, but you saw its craftsmanship firsthand. If the Kirin Tor hired us for such work, why question us? We even handled the repairs afterward."

"I’m not doubting you," Jesse said. "Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Have you seen the tower? Can you give me a rough estimate?"

"No." Erlan shook his head. "But I heard orcs and Gnolls held it for years, and it changed hands repeatedly in battles. Surviving all that? Impressive. Take Nethergarde’s Mage Tower—repairs cost over six hundred gold coins. They’ve paid three hundred fifty so far…"

"Six hundred?!" Jesse nearly roared.

"Why shout?" Erlan flinched, rubbing his ear. "I didn’t say yours would cost that much. The six hundred included hazard pay—working where that demon’s blood corrupted everything. Mages were fair about it; they knew the risks to our health."

"Has Stormwind’s reconstruction pay been settled yet?" Jesse asked casually.

"Still pending." Erlan sighed. "But they’re making payments. Some harbor workers got paid recently. At this pace? Maybe a few more years… With the boy-king’s treasury, likely longer. Still, it’s better than two years ago—when he couldn’t scrape a copper together, and Alliance funds stalled over northern internment camps. Chaos, that was. Nethergarde’s project saved us back then."

Truthfully, Stormwind and Goldshire’s bustling streets proved the kingdom’s finances were improving. If not for Onyxia’s later interference, the guild and crown might’ve reconciled peacefully.

"Ultimately," Erlan concluded, "rebuilding the Tower of Ilgalar depends on your needs. Talk to Edwin—he’ll explain. I can arrange a meeting."

"Then I’ll leave it to you," Jesse said.

Returning to Stormwind that afternoon, a horseman caught up to Aarna midway.

"Master Seso." The rider slowed beside him. "Niden Hutt, SI:7 agent. I’ve been searching for you."

"SI:7?" Jesse eyed the black-haired man. His plain features and brown coat made him look like any common hunter.

Jesse had never heard of Niden Hutt. "Why seek me?"

"Royal orders." Niden lowered his voice. "His Majesty mentioned discussing this. We need your help investigating black dragon movements. Lord Dalaran Prestor’s magic may endanger Stormwind."

"So soon?" Jesse frowned. "I thought the operation hadn’t started."

"We’ve already uncovered leads," Niden pressed. "Are you free now? I could show you SI:7’s location—fulfilling Lady Shaw’s task. I’ve delayed long enough…"

"Apologies—I didn’t know you were looking for me." Jesse smiled. "Lead the way."

Dusk fell as they reached Stormwind. The alleged agent guided Jesse toward the barracks—correctly SI:7’s base in the game—easing Jesse’s wariness.

Behind the barracks stood a wall-adjacent villa shrouded in trees. Niden navigated the labyrinthine path so deftly Jesse grew dizzy following.

The villa resembled Garden District noble homes—unremarkable but for an old dog guarding its doorless entrance.

Inside, a carpeted hall displayed modest wall art. Yet Jesse’s gaze locked onto one large piece: not a painting, but a map of Azeroth.

Unlike the blurry harbor chart, this depicted Kalimdor in near-game detail—Mount Hyjal, Winterspring, and Ashenvale crisply labeled.

"You’ve been to Kalimdor, Master Seso?" Niden asked, noting Jesse’s interest.

"On elven business." Jesse nodded. His finger hovered over a sketchy forest south of Winterspring. "This area?"

"A canyon below Mount Hyjal," Niden explained. "No proper name. Elves might know more, but our agents recorded ghostly whispers there—not folklore. We mark it ‘Darkwhisper Gorge,’ warning operatives to avoid it. That place… is wrong."

No wonder Vereesa hadn’t known. It bore a Common name.