Chapter 767

Chapter 767: Half-Breed

When Ursula asked this, Jesse’s playful expression vanished. He sat up straight and said seriously, "Not yet. We were just good friends back then."

"You’d better be telling the truth." Ursula pressed a hand to her forehead. "Damn it, I don’t want to cross the Windrunner Family over one reckless night! I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard. Some elves hire assassins to eliminate rivals—who knows what those nobles might do? They could be worse. I just escaped demon assassins; I can’t afford to draw elven attention too."

"Really?" Jesse said. "But I’m not lying. Every word’s true. We’ve only been together six months. That incident… happened before I went to Kalimdor."

"Then I’ll believe you." Ursula stared at him. "You’re not half as innocent as you pretend, acting all virtuous every day."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "I admit that… But are you sure the Eastweald faction’s done with you?"

Ursula replied, "My friend in the royal city says they’ve stopped collaborating. That merchant from Stratholme seems frightened too. But rumors claim I hired a Paladin to kill that succubus in Andorhal. What happened? Did you pay some Silver Hand knight in Lordaeron?"

"Would the Silver Hand take gold for slaying demons?" Jesse asked.

"Who knows?" Ursula shrugged. "Saints need to eat. The Holy Light is merciful—they’d understand."

"I used no demon or dark magic." Jesse explained, "Maybe they assumed only a Paladin would execute a demon in broad daylight."

"Thank you for handling this. Truly."

"It’s nothing compared to how you’ve helped me." Jesse paused. "Any progress investigating your father’s feud with that Stratholme merchant?"

Ursula sighed. "Some leads, but… I don’t know how to explain. Sorry, Jesse."

"Your private affairs are yours." Jesse nodded.

After a silence, the Alchemist packed her tools and closed the case. Resting her hands on the lid, she asked, "If you marry Vereesa Windrunner, will you have children?"

"Why ask so suddenly?" Jesse looked up. "I haven’t thought—"

"Then your children will be half-elves," Ursula cut in. "Unwanted in Quel’Thalas or here. Have you considered that, Jesse? Their descendants will forever be half-breeds—neither human nor elf."

"Many half-elves achieved greatness," Jesse countered. "Like Archmage Alodi of Dalaran. Know his story?"

"One exception proves nothing!"

Ursula’s voice carried rare anger. Jesse scarcely ever saw her like this—her temper was so mild she needed potions to fuel Shadow Magic.

Though her tone wasn’t truly furious, just sharper than usual, it sent a chill down his spine.

"Or perhaps," she continued bitterly, "those few remarkable half-elves across millennia prove our kind is cursed to suffer."

"What about your own children?" Jesse asked.

"I’ll have none." Her voice turned icy. "I’ve lived half a life as a half-elf. I won’t create more souls to endure this torment."

Jesse froze speechless.

Ursula seemed to catch herself. Leaning on the case, she whispered, "Forgive me, Jesse. I’ve gone mad. You’re my dearest friend. I should never have said those cruel things."

Jesse sat upright, no longer slouching. After a pause, he said, "No apology needed. Though human, I’ve seen how half-elves live."

"Actually, I came about Felhounds. You’re our finest handler—always with Basadre."

"I’m no match for you, Jesse."

"Don’t undersell yourself." Jesse smiled. "I’ve spoken with Zardeth and SI:7. We want warlocks skilled with Felhounds to expose disguised Wyrmkin. I told Zardeth the Dagger Association would assist, but you’re perfect for this. With your Stratholme troubles gone, and SI:7 backing you against that merchant…"

"Can I truly do it?" The Alchemist hesitated.

"Unless you’d rather stay cooped up here," Jesse teased.

After reflection, Ursula said, "If you trust me, I’ll try. Provided they accept a half-elf."

"Then it’s settled." Jesse rose. "I’ll leave you to your work."

As he turned, Ursula added, "Forget my earlier words. I truly wish you and Vereesa Windrunner happiness. And your children… they’ll be extraordinary. They’ll change how people see us."

"Thank you." Jesse smiled.

Ursula returned the smile, watching him exit the Alchemy Room.

In the corridor, Jesse glanced at Molofeel standing silently beside him. Her perpetual smile gave nothing away—as if she understood everything, or nothing at all.

Next, he’d await SI:7’s notice about the prisoners. Time to test if Felhounds could detect disguised Wyrmkin by their magical signatures.

Yet Jesse knew success here wouldn’t mean Felhounds could unveil true black dragons. Even an archmage like Krasus failed to pierce their disguises—relying on Felhounds was wishful thinking. To guard against Onyxia or her kin infiltrating Stormwind, a surer method was needed.

His thoughts returned to Marshal Reginald Windsor’s stone slab—recovered from Dark Iron Dwarves, bearing a spell to force Onyxia’s true form… Where had that power come from?