Chapter Seventy-Six: The Royal Court

Quellinthas had prepared the account books for the past two months, as well as the emergency appropriations from the council due to the tense situation at the front, and the expenses for purchasing consumables. All official business required review and signature by Patrick, the chief mage, before submission to the council.

Seeing Patrick advance to the seventh circle, the four—Ethonis, Quellinthas, and the others—could not help but feel a sense of loss. Becoming a council member meant far more choices for the future. The simplest would be to return to Silvermoon City for further development or to become a mage at the Royal Arcane Academy.

No matter which path Patrick chose, he would inevitably leave the Sun Tower. Having an accomplished master of arcane arts nearby had been a blessing, especially one without any noble prejudices. His explanations of alchemy and arcane arts to the elves were clear and accessible, and he even shared a portion of the profits from alchemy with Quellinthas and the others. Such a leader was almost too good to be true.

But once Patrick left, the rest would be reduced to a life of endless parties and drinking, quietly wasting away in this remote and forgotten place. This was precisely the sort of life that Quellinthas and the others dreaded most.

With the accumulated work completed and his advancement to the seventh circle, Patrick needed to return to Silvermoon City. First, he wished to see his parents and share his joy; moreover, for the Cabron family, which had lingered in mediocrity for thousands of years, this was an earth-shaking event. Second, he had to pay homage to King Anastarion, as the appointment of a Silvermoon council member required the king’s formal decree to take effect.

Patrick then summoned Lorne Songflow, curious to know how he had been faring during his time at the Sun Sanctuary.

“Chief Patrick!” Lorne Songflow greeted him.

“How do you find your work at the Sun Sanctuary?” Patrick asked.

“It’s vibrant and full of energy. You’ve brought a new atmosphere to the Sun Sanctuary, one not found in Silvermoon City,” replied Lorne Songflow, his insight keen.

“How is the intelligence network you’ve been setting up among the adventurers?” Patrick inquired.

“At present, it’s going quite well. I’ve spent years as an adventurer myself, so I have connections and friendships. Gathering information is no challenge,” Lorne Songflow paused, then asked, “Is there a new task for me?”

“Yes, there’s a rather troublesome matter.”

Just then, the spirit of the Lynx, summoned by Patrick’s mental call, bounded from the inner office. Its stride was agile, its golden mane gleaming, and its eyes, ever brimming with arcane power, stared intently at Lorne Songflow, radiating a sharp and authoritative gaze.

“Is this… is this the animal god of the trolls?” Lorne Songflow tensed instantly. After thousands of years of war between elves and trolls, he was well acquainted with the deities worshipped by their mortal enemies.

“No need to be nervous. Though he was once the trolls’ god, they have betrayed him,” Patrick waved his hand, indicating Lorne Songflow need not be so guarded.

“Regba has left the trolls, and has even begun to accept arcane power, but in essence, he remains an animal god. We need to help him develop some followers to maintain his divinity, and in return, he will grant power to his followers.”

Lorne Songflow hesitated. “But our kingdom of Quel’Thalas isn’t a theocratic state. We have no tradition of worshipping deities, and we know nothing of rituals. Is this feasible?”

Patrick replied, “It’s worth a try. I have purified the witchcraft and voodoo from the Lynx spirit, so you needn’t worry that our people will instinctively reject him. All we need to do is let him live freely under the sun.”

“As for priests, we can rely on adventurers. They possess a wide array of skills and energies, far more eclectic than us arcane specialists. It will be easier for them to harness the Lynx spirit’s power. If any adventurer is interested, they will naturally seek him out. Regba knows how to conduct the rituals, and will teach his followers; we needn’t worry.”

“But there is one rule: absolutely no blood sacrifices or live offerings,” Patrick added, directing his words to Regba. This was an inviolable taboo. Should they ever cross into blood or live sacrifices, nothing further could be said.

That was the way of the trolls, after all—trolls who even consumed their own. If the elves ever engaged in blood or live sacrifices, how would they differ from the trolls? These two points were Patrick’s absolute bottom line, not to be breached.

Both elf and Lynx nodded in agreement.

Patrick then sent a magical message to his family, informing his parents of his return. He arranged matters for the mage tower after his inauguration in Silvermoon City, and teleported directly to the Cabron family’s mage tower.

He was back in familiar territory—Silvermoon City.

The Cabron family’s mage tower was still to the right of the Sunstrider Tower, near the auxiliary spire. Dense arcane energy surged all around; within Patrick, Allen delighted in such an environment, able to absorb arcane power freely and without restraint.

Returning home, he found someone already waiting.

“Young master, the lord is waiting for you in the study,” said his father’s old assistant, Lassia. Phil Cabron had instructed Lassia to wait for Patrick since early morning.

“Thank you, Aunt Lassia.” As his father’s aide from the previous generation, Lassia was certainly worthy of Patrick’s respect.

Phil Cabron had always wondered when Patrick would reach the seventh circle, but he hadn’t expected his youngest son’s advancement to come so swiftly. For elves, with their long lifespans, it seemed but a blink of an eye.

Phil pondered his two sons. The elder, Patterson Cabron, was steady in character, methodical in both arcane studies and alchemy, progressing step by step. He might lack a certain creative spark, but he excelled in maintaining the family’s affairs—mature, prudent, rational, and capable of securing the family’s interests. He was undoubtedly the first candidate for Cabron clan leader.

The younger son, though less accomplished in family business, possessed unmatched talent as a spellcaster. Now, in such a short time, he had reached the seventh circle and was about to join the Silvermoon Council. With the elder son overseeing family affairs and the younger advancing in the outside world, they complemented each other perfectly. Phil was confident that soon, the Cabron family would become one of Silvermoon’s prominent clans.

With this thought, Phil’s face brimmed with pride. The future of the Cabron family would shine brilliantly. If Patrick’s arcane prowess advanced even further, the families eligible to share in the bounty of Silvermoon City would have to make room for another—the Cabron clan.