Early the next morning, as the sky was just beginning to pale, the gates of Stormwind slowly opened.
The four of them were already fully prepared, and their carriage headed straight for Stormwind Keep.
After presenting Varian's token, the guards showed no hesitation and respectfully escorted them inside.
Passing through several corridors, they were led into a spacious banquet hall.
Sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows, and the walls were adorned with massive tapestries depicting the great achievements of Stormwind's past kings.
"Please wait here for a moment. His Majesty will arrive shortly," the attendant said with a bow before withdrawing.
Allen nodded and sat down by the long table.
Morgan curiously looked around at the decorations, while Stella cautiously touched a silver plate on the table before quickly pulling her hand back.
A quarter of an hour passed.
Then another.
No one came.
Allen frowned, stood up, and walked to the door to look outside. The corridor was completely empty—not even a single attendant in sight.
"Strange…" he muttered. "Why is it so quiet?"
Wren also stood up, his gaze sweeping the surroundings with vigilance.
At that moment, heavy footsteps surged in from all directions.
Squads of fully armed Stormwind guards flooded into the banquet hall, quickly spreading out and surrounding the four of them.
Marshal Windsor strode out from among the soldiers, his resolute face now ashen.
"By order of the king—" he declared loudly, his voice echoing through the vast hall, "Allen Prestor is in fact the evil black dragon Nefarian lurking within Stormwind. He is suspected of spreading dark magic and attempting to bewitch the king. All related individuals are to be apprehended on the spot!"
Realizing something was wrong, Allen quickly spoke up to explain.
"Marshal, there must be some misunderstanding. The order you just mentioned—did you hear it directly from His Majesty himself?"
A flicker of hesitation passed through Windsor's eyes.
[Persuasion Check: Success]
[Windsor is not the kind of fool who blindly follows orders. He has not seen King Varian Wrynn in person. Since last night, the king has not met anyone, and this order was delivered through documents. He also finds it suspicious. But under so many watchful eyes, he cannot simply let you go. So—run, run now!]
Allen took a deep breath and raised his hand.
Feather Fall!
A pale blue glow gathered at his fingertips and slowly spread to the three beside him.
"Trust me!" he shouted. "Jump out the window! I won't let you die from the fall!"
Morgan didn't hesitate for even a moment. He dashed toward the window and leapt out.
His figure vanished outside, followed by Stella, who jumped with her eyes tightly shut.
Wren looked at Allen. Their eyes met for a brief instant, and then he also flipped out the window.
The guards stirred, some attempting to move forward, but none received an order from Windsor.
Allen gave Windsor one last look—the old marshal stood there, expressionless, yet never gave the command to attack.
That was enough.
Allen rushed to the window and leapt.
The wind howled past his ears—and then, a tremendous force suddenly seized his body.
The strength was astonishing, like an invisible giant hand grabbing him.
Gorefiend's Grasp?!!
Allen felt his body being dragged backward against his will. The walls of Stormwind Keep, the sky, the ground—all spun wildly in his vision—
Bang!
He slammed heavily into the wall, his internal organs feeling as though they had shifted out of place.
Pain spread from his back, and his vision blurred.
When Allen opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was once more a pair of long, pale legs, lazily crossed, faintly visible beneath a loose robe.
"My dear little brother—"
A languid, seductive voice drifted down from the couch above: "When did you return to Stormwind? Why didn't you tell me? Have you grown distant from your dear sister?"
Onyxia. He had fallen into her hands again. This hell-difficulty dungeon—he had barely left the newbie village and was already facing max-level bosses.
Allen glanced down at himself—ropes wrapped around him layer after layer, binding him tightly. The only part of his body he could move was his mouth.
In this situation, pretending to be the Black Dragon Prince no longer seemed necessary.
Allen immediately began his performance again.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impersonate someone from the Prestor family. I didn't expect to offend the real one. Please forgive me."
Katrana looked at him with amusement.
"Oh? Aren't you the great and evil Black Dragon Prince Nefarian?"
"That was… that was just a desperate lie to survive," he said, his voice carrying just the right amount of regret. "If you think about it, how could I possibly be that Black Dragon Prince? If I were, then you would surely be the even more noble and powerful Black Dragon Princess."
His voice grew softer: "These days, living by deception, I've been on edge every single day… Tomorrow, I'll publicly clarify that I'm not from the Prestor family at all!"
Katrana stared at the young man before her, the corners of her lips curling upward slightly.
She was very satisfied with his answer.
She crossed her legs again, the movement slow enough to make one's breath hitch.
"Since that's the case, then tell me—why did you impersonate someone from my family?"
Allen's mind raced.
Think, damn it, think!
What kind of answer would that evil, cunning, shameless mother lizard like?
"Money!"
He blurted it out, his voice filled with sincerity: "For money! I want wealth, fame, and the most beautiful women! I've lacked all of those since I was young, so I took the risk and impersonated a noble from a distant northern land. I just wanted to survive… to make something of myself…"
Katrana let out a soft laugh, her thoughts unreadable as she slowly sized him up from head to toe without speaking.
"Very good."
After a long pause, she finally spoke again.
"I, Katrana Prestor, like honest people. Since you want wealth, fame, and—the most beautiful women—"
She shifted her posture, leaning forward slightly. The deep curve of her chest seemed ready to spill out from her robe, swaying before Allen's eyes.
"I can give you all of it."
A meaningful smile appeared at the corner of her lips.
"But from today onward, you will work for me."
Since he was not truly a surviving heir of the Prestor family, there was no need to kill him. Better to keep him as her agent in Stormwind, preparing for her eventual control of the city.
A man driven by greed for wealth and status was the easiest to control.
"Work for me, and I will make you a true young noble of the Prestor family," Katrana said, her voice laced with temptation. "I will grant you endless wealth and supreme glory."
She leaned down.
The softness before her chest was almost overflowing, less than a foot from Allen's face, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.
"As for the most beautiful woman—"
Her voice dropped to a whisper, like a lover's murmur: "From now on, you will be my pet. Every night, you will come and serve me."
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