Chapter 1

Arvis Godwyn was not having a good day, not that it was an unusual state of affairs for him. Stratholme was not a fun location to guard even at noon, not after Prince Arthas decided the best way to prevent an undead outbreak was to kill everyone in the city.

Arvis kept his opinion to himself, especially since the news had arrived that the Prince’s reckless Northrend expedition had succeeded despite all odds, and people were unable to stop singing his praises.

He was already on thin ice, all thanks to his ‘loving’ uncle from his late mother’s side, Othmar Garithos, who was looking for the smallest opportunity to exile him even farther than Stratholme.

To this day, Arvis had no idea what possessed his late father to make that greedy monster the executor of his will.

Unfortunately, his father, bless his gullible soul, did so, and the moment his father had died, Garithos used his rank as the Grand Marshall to assign him to Stratholme, supposedly to defend the place, while Garithos used the opportunity to drain House Godwyn all its riches.

Well, what remained of his after his father had already wasted most of it.

He wished that he could do something, but during the biggest disaster since the Second War, no one cared about the fate of a noble heir, especially not when caring meant making an enemy out of a Grand Marshall.

None of his father’s sworn followers protested, which didn’t surprise Arvis even the slightest. Arvis loved his father, but he never had any illusions about his competence, and his so-called sworn followers were merely drinking buddies.

They were just as happy to drink from Garithos’ coffers while he used his regent status to ruin House Godwyn.

Maybe he should have joined the expedition to the East. But then, when these ships were sailing, his father was still alive, and he had no idea he would end up in the tender mercies of his maternal uncle—

[Congratulations! You have been lucky enough to be the recipient of the Chaos Gacha – Faction Leader Edition]

[With King Terenas assassinated, the Alliance is about to shatter, chaos is your playground! Build and grow your own faction, receive rewards, and rise to the top! Bow no one! Or fail and fade into history!]

[Note: Due to significantly limited ticket chances, all rewards will be rolled as advantage tickets.]

[Starter pack]

+1x Gold Advantage Random Gacha ticket]

[Select one!]

[Bloom]

{Rare Ability: You are a chlorokinetic, allowing you to create, communicate with, and control plants within your sensory range. You can make branches crawl out of the ground and snare your enemies, make trees break through the concrete, create and grow plant life on fertile soil, manipulate vines as whips, or simply grow an apple tree to get a ripe apple.}

[Intermediate Shooting]

{Uncommon Skill: You are a pretty decent shot. You can handle most firearms and projectiles with familiarity, but you aren’t going to be nailing headshot after headshot.}

“What in the tender mercies of light is that,” he muttered, his thoughts interrupted by the several lines of light.

“What’s wrong, sir?” one of the footmen asked, though Arvis could hear the disdain in his tone.

Another little gift from his loving uncle. While he was technically a captain, his arrival had been accompanied by several juicy rumors, ranging from accidentally killing another noble to taking a harem of orc lovers.

Arvis had to admit. Garithos might be a disgusting man and an incompetent commander, but he was an expert in politics. Just a few whispers, and he made sure that there was no chance he could get any kind of support.

However, he didn’t expect to be bullied by one of the mages, who usually kept to themselves. He looked around, looking for the responsible mage, but seeing none, he kept his mouth shut.

He had long learned that complaining about pranks invited more retaliation.

“Nothing, soldier. Continue your patrol,” he responded. The only perk of his rank. He could talk back to soldiers.

He walked, the writing still in front of his eyes. It partially faded, leaving only the second part.

[Select one!]

[Bloom]

{Rare Ability: You are a chlorokinetic, allowing you to create, communicate with, and control plants within your sensory range. You can make branches crawl out of the ground and snare your enemies, make trees break through the concrete, create and grow plant life on fertile soil, manipulate vines as whips, or simply grow an apple tree to get a ripe apple.}

[Intermediate Shooting]

{Uncommon Skill: You are a pretty decent shot. You can handle most firearms and projectiles with familiarity, but you aren’t going to be nailing headshot after headshot.}

He sighed. At least it was a creative prank. Better than replacing the soles of his boots or hiding his sword. However, as he walked forward, that appreciation faded away.

He closed his eyes, trying to gather the hints of what he remembered from his childhood tutors. His father had hired several magic tutors, only to waste his time, as his magical sensitivity was slightly more than that of a wooden slab.

However, he still remembered the trick of dispelling. All he needed to focus on. He mentally reached to first part of the writing—

It disappeared.

Replaced by the sudden, impossible flux of information. Suddenly, he knew how to communicate with plants, control them, or, if necessary, weaponize them. That didn’t feel like a prank.

He might not have learned to cast even the weakest cantrip from his childhood tutors, but he got a sense of what was possible or not. An illusion to confound his senses, not that difficult.

Something to alter his perception in such an intense manner required a capable mage, one who wouldn’t be left defending the ruins of a city.

He gulped, suddenly wishing that what he saw was a nightmare.

, he decided as he walked toward the side of the road, ignoring the soldiers as he leaned against the tree, acting like he was relieving himself. He didn’t need to focus mentally like a spell required.

Hell, he didn’t even need to touch the tree. All he needed to reach with his mind, and the tree branch lowered, and five leaves dropped into his hand.

Exactly as many as he ordered.

A chill gripped his heart. Not because he hated his new ability. It was an excellent one, one that would have been enough to rebuild his house from debt.

No, it was about what had followed. The assassination of King Terenas was enough of a bombshell, but it was nothing compared to the next line, declaring that the Alliance would shatter.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The Alliance, which had resisted the full force Orcish Horde consisting of orcs, trolls, ogres, death knights, and their enslaved dragons.

He wanted to believe it to be impossible … but then, half a century ago, people would never have believed that Great Guardian Medivh would betray humanity and bring orcs to their lands for mysterious reasons.

At least, reasons that were not known by a minor noble like him.

He gulped. “Continue your patrol, soldiers. I need to check in with a priest,” he said. “I’m having trouble with my stomach,” he added.

“Of course, sir,” one of them said, snickering. It was believable, as he had to deal with that particular prank more than once.

Arvis walked toward the tents near the gates, the best place to set a camp without actually walking into Stratholme. No one wanted to walk there.

He walked toward the inner section, where priests and mages stayed. One benefit of constant pranks, no one questioned him why he was walking there. He immediately went to a tent, finding Mage Allerton, hunched over a desk, scribbling notes by candlelight.

Allerton was the closest thing to an ally for him in Stratholme, which meant he actually bothered to speak without sneering openly. It was more about the state of his social life than Allerton’s warmth.

The mage was a nervous, thin man in his late twenties who had washed out of Dalaran for reasons he never discussed and ended up here for reasons everyone could guess, he lacked the necessary combination of power and noble connections.

“Allerton,” Arvis said, letting the tent flap close behind him.

The mage didn’t look up. “If this is about adding a defensive spell to your tent again, I already told you, unless you can provide me with proper enchanting materials—”

“I need you to contact Lordaeron City.”

That made Allerton look up. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles beneath them suggesting he hadn’t slept in some time. “Contact the capital. You want me to contact the capital.”

“Yes.”

“With what, Captain? A politely worded letter tied to a pigeon? Do you have any idea how much effort connecting costs a mage of my … caliber?” Allerton’s lips pressed together. Arvis could tell that the admission cost him something. Even here, at the bottom of the barrel, pride was the last thing to die.

“I know it’s difficult—”