In the latter half of the night, Allen and the others' carriage sped toward Stormwind City.
Inside the carriage, Allen glanced at his character attributes. The newly gained free attribute points had all been allocated to Charisma.
...
Race: Human
Strength: 12 (Who can even lift anything with this? Add a bit more!)
Dexterity: 14 (Calling you quick wouldn't be wrong!)
Constitution: 15 (You won't need IV fluids for the next ten years.)
Intelligence: 18 (Your brain isn't exactly smooth.)
Wisdom: 18 (Trust your instincts.)
Charisma: 30 (What kind of aphrodisiac gained sentience?)
Unassigned Attribute Points: 0
Spells Learned: Meteor Swarm, Chain Lightning, Speak with Dead, Knock, Tasha's Hideous Laughter, Grease, Speak with Animals
...
Looking at his current attributes, Allen felt quite a sense of accomplishment. In his previous life, he had always been sickly. Now, he could finally be considered a healthy human being.
They continued on their journey, but when they arrived at the gates of Stormwind, they discovered that the city gates were closed due to curfew—no entry allowed.
Even when Allen produced the token given by Varian, they still weren't let in.
With no other choice, the group returned to the grassy field outside the gates and set up camp for the night.
Wren quickly and skillfully pitched two tents, then took out his bow and arrows and disappeared into the night.
In less than half an hour, he returned carrying several plump wild pigeons and one unlucky rabbit.
The campfire was soon lit.
Wren crouched by the fire, his short knife flashing deftly as he cleaned and dressed the game. Morgan helped by carving wooden skewers.
As the meat was threaded onto the sticks and roasted over the fire, fat dripped down, sizzling audibly.
Wren even brought along some spices, sprinkling them over the meat.
Stella stared eagerly at the skewers, licking her lips over and over.
Even Morgan and Allen couldn't help but swallow.
Wren glanced at them, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly into a rare smile.
He handed the first two roasted pigeon skewers to Stella and Morgan, then took down the largest rabbit leg and passed it to Allen.
"Eat slowly. Don't burn yourself."
Stella grabbed the pigeon and, ignoring the heat, took a fierce bite.
"So good! This is amazing!"
Morgan also devoured his food, speaking with his mouth full: "Mr. Wren, your cooking… it's even better than the best chef in Darkshire!"
Wren didn't respond, simply continuing to turn the skewers in his hands.
Allen took a bite of the rabbit meat—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, with just the right amount of seasoning.
He stood up, walked over to the carriage, and handed a skewer of roasted pigeon to the driver.
"Thanks for your hard work. Have something warm to eat."
The driver, a taciturn middle-aged man who had barely spoken during the journey, took the skewer and froze for a moment before revealing a simple, honest smile.
"Thank you, Young Lord Allen."
Allen returned to the campfire and sat back down.
The flames flickered in the night breeze, casting shifting light and shadow across their faces.
In the distance stood the towering walls of Stormwind; nearby stretched the endless grasslands; above them glittered a vast river of stars.
At this moment, it felt as though the world consisted only of the few of them—and this warm campfire.
Allen looked at his companions gathered around the fire, a strange warmth rising in his heart.
It had been barely over a month since he transmigrated here. And yet now, he already had these people by his side.
He turned to Morgan and spoke after a brief hesitation: "Morgan, once we make some real money, have you thought about bringing your wife and daughters to Stormwind?"
Morgan looked up at him, puzzled.
"Darkshire is too dangerous, after all," Allen continued. "You're out here punishing evil, while they're at home worrying every day. Stormwind is the capital—walls, guards—it's much safer."
Morgan shook his head, his tone firm.
"Mr. Allen, I didn't follow you for money. I'm here to repay a life-saving debt—and to pursue justice."
Allen looked at him, the firelight dancing in his eyes.
"I know. For you, pursuing justice is the most important thing," he said calmly and sincerely. "But if, while pursuing justice, you can also take care of your family—that's what true strength is."
He paused, his tone growing heavier.
"Otherwise… you'll definitely regret it."
Morgan fell silent.
The fire crackled softly as the night breeze passed through.
After a long while, Morgan lifted his head, his eyes flickering with complicated emotions.
"Mr. Allen…" His voice was slightly hoarse. "Thank you. I'll think about it seriously."
Wren, watching from the side, didn't interrupt. Instead, he turned to Stella, a rare hint of curiosity in his expression.
"Stella, I've always wanted to ask—how did a gnome like you end up in Goldshire… uh… begging?"
In his view, as an engineering specialist, she should have been considered high-level talent. How had she ended up like this?
Stella's face turned bright red. She stammered, muttering things like "there are reasons" and "how can engineering matters be called begging?"
Her voice grew quieter and quieter until it was barely audible.
"You came from Gnomeregan?" Allen suddenly asked.
Gnomeregan—the gnomes' capital in World of Warcraft, a technological marvel built underground. It had fallen, but Allen vaguely remembered that its fall happened during the Third War.
Stella looked up, a trace of longing flashing in her eyes.
"Gnomeregan… that's a big city. I've never been there."
Her voice softened.
"I'm from Kharanos. I don't have parents—the villagers raised me. They all said I was the smartest gnome they'd ever seen, that I'd definitely become a great engineering master one day."
The campfire illuminated her small face, her bright blue eyes shining.
"Later, I heard Stormwind was being rebuilt—there were opportunities everywhere, and you could make a lot of money!"
Stella's face lit up with excitement.
"So… the villagers scraped together ten silver coins for me and sent me off to try my luck."
Her voice grew quieter.
"It was so cold… I walked for a long, long time before I finally reached Ironforge. But when I got there, I found out the Deeprun Tram ticket cost twenty silver…"
She began telling her story…
The tram had only recently opened, and management wasn't very strict. With no money, Stella managed to sneak aboard.
Because she had never seen the tram before, she got off midway—and accidentally ended up stranded on the tracks.
There were many vagrants living along the tram tunnels. Stella was terrified, but she had no choice but to keep walking.
Fortunately, some of the vagrants were kind.
She was starving along the way, and even roasted rats with them to survive.
By the time she finally made it to Stormwind, she had spent all her money—and was treated as a vagrant and driven out. Luckily, Mr. Farley in Goldshire took her in.
Wren and Morgan both fell silent.
The fire crackled as the night breeze drifted past.
Stella lifted her head again, hope rekindling in her eyes.
"The villagers all told me I would succeed! Once I make a lot of money, I'll bring everyone from the village to live in Gnomeregan!"
Allen looked at her—the small face filled with dreams of the future.
He couldn't bear to tell her that in a little over ten years, the city she longed for would fall—devoured by troggs and radiation.
Those "people of Gnomeregan" she spoke of would become refugees, flooding into Ironforge… and into her home village.
He reached out and gently patted her blue-haired head.
"Don't worry," he said softly but firmly. "I'll definitely help you make a lot of money."
Stella narrowed her eyes, a satisfied smile appearing on her face.
The night grew deeper.
Morgan wrapped himself in a blanket and soon began snoring evenly.
Stella curled up into a small bundle, still smiling faintly in her sleep.
Wren sat by the fire on watch, his gaze distant, lost in thought.
Allen shared a tent with Morgan. Lying inside, he gazed at the star-filled sky through the open tent flap.
The night breeze carried the scent of grass, along with the faint howls of wolves in the distance.
He closed his eyes, his thoughts gradually drifting into sleep.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---