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Diplomacy 101: How my Yandere Wife (murders) solves all my Problems!

Waking up as a Blood Elf in the World of Warcraft was a dream come true. Who didn't want to be beautiful and have eternal youth? Even if in that dream he found himself waking up as the most useless noble and child of Silvermoons most notorious politician: Varrus Vandercross. However, waking up during the Scourging of Silvermoon was more like a nightmare. Zombies ate 90% of EVERY Blood Elf in that event, and were banging on his doors as soon as he transmigrated. Apparently married earlier in the day, he found himself chained to his bed by his crazy wife because she wanted him to "stay safe." Said crazy wife then went on to dice through dozens of zombies like some kind of maniac psycho, smiling all the while. Well, it wasn't all a nightmare. At least his wife was pretty, and hey, he even had the Skyrim UI as his system! Wait....you want how many children?! Well, no one said repopulating the species would be easy! Join Varrus and his quest to not only ensure the survival of his race, but also keep his manhood as his wife is very jealous, and very stabby!

KarpQQ · Video Games
Not enough ratings
40 Chs

Chapter 30

Meanwhile, in the dark recesses of an alleyway, Thaladred the Darkener was enduring the strangest day of his life. 

Sitting across from him at a well decorated table was the girl who defeated him in a duel. 

The girl who humiliated him in front of all of his peers, and the girl who won all the glory for the victory at the docks! 

It was his first defeat in a century, and he lost to a child not even a hundred years old. It made him want to go crazy with rage, flip the table, and storm out of here. 

However, Thaladred felt a chill on his spine seeing the tiny whelp innocently smiling at him. 

Just looking at her like that put him on edge. 

The visions he experienced the other day, the blood of his best friend coating his hands. It was nightmarish! 

He had no proof, but he highly suspected her of foul play, but he had no evidence that it wasn't 'voodoo magic' as she had claimed when she promised to help him cover up his murder. 

'Ah, Sanguinar my friend, if only you were still alive to guide me in this hour. Without you around, who will I know who to smash?'

Thaladred clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly, fear and anger whirled up a storm inside of him. 

He knew he had anger issues, he knew it was wrong to enjoy violence, and slaughter. But he couldn't help himself. Sanguinar however, had recognized these traits of his, and praised them for virtues. His friend had helped Thaladred put his talents to use, in the process, gathering fame and accolades in his name. Sanguinar was a true friend, one who always kept Thaladred out of trouble by bribing guards, or hiding Thaladred's misdeeds from public view. 

With his sophisticated way of talking, Sanguinar could convince others that Thaladred's violence was necessary for the good of Quel'Thalas!

Without his best friend's silver tongue, Thaladred worried he would kill the wrong person, or publicly act on his urges, and face execution. 

Even now, there was barely a small string of doubt holding him back from twisting this girl's head off. 

He knew he was mighty, everyone had praised him as the best for the last thousand years. 

Yet he lost to this youth! 

Could he accept this outcome!? 

"Hmmm." Thaladred all but growled as he began to work himself up into a frenzy, converting his fear into an inferno of rage. 

"Do you enjoy the tea, Thaladred?" Syra said between taking a small sip from a fancy porcelain cup. 

Thaladred crumpled his tea cup, splattering the warmed juice over his gauntleted hand. He was so forceful, droplets fell upon his face. 

"Do you think me the kind of fool that would imbibe poison the first chance he got?" Thaladred snarled. 

Syra took a long sip, then gasped in pleasure as she set her cup down, then replied with that same damnable smile. 

"No, I expected you to crush the cursed cup I provided to you. The tea, however, was very expensive. Especially given the current scarcity." Syra sweetly said, placing a spoonful of sugar into her tea, and gently stirred it up.

No sooner did she say this, than Thaladred saw a faint mist of shadowy energy seep from the crushed metal, and enter his nostrils. He tried to purge the magic from his system, and flush it with his mana, but all he felt was an electric pain course throughout his veins. 

Thaladred moved to rise, but felt his knees go weak, and a sturdy hand from behind forced him back into his seat. He wanted to fight, but his strength was almost completely sapped! 

He glared at the guard, but was met with a smug smile instead. 

The four guards who had accompanied Syra began to clap, and praise their mistress for her foresight. 

Thaladred spat, disgusted by their groveling behavior. 

Syra lightly clanged her spoon on the lip of her tea cup, and the applause suddenly halted, like a marionette with its strings cut. 

"I've studied you, you know? One does not become Silvermoon's most famed executioner and remain unknown." 

"So you know the danger you are in. Release me, and I will forget this ever happened!" Thaladred smirked, the fact this little lass had only now realized the error of her ways had him highly question her intelligence, but that didn't mean he wouldn't capitalize on her mistake! 

Syra laughed gaily into the back of her hand, looking at Thaladred like he was the world's biggest idiot. 

Oh how he despised that look! 

"Yes, there would be oh so many clamoring for Thaladred the Darkener's release! The picture book detailing your history contained barely a paragraph or two of words, hardly fit for the esteemed perusal of scholars." Syra held her sides as she laughed. 

"Yes, my fame is known throughout Silvermoon, they record my deeds in the books of history. What use is there for words, when deeds speak louder than any penned word or letter. Release me, or my friends will see you erased!" Thaladred angrily clamored. 

"Oh how rich, bravado will not save you, Thaladred. You have no friends. You are a dog, one that Sanguinar pointed at his enemies, and you proudly barked at. Do you think you are titled as 'the Darkener' because of your magical skills? No, this history book is of a private collection, one not widely circulated. The victims and family members of your victims would be most interested to place their hands on this book. My oh my, how fame swiftly turns into infamy, hm?" Syra relentlessly mocked, and delivered that same, constant, damnable smile! 

Thaladred figuratively ground his teeth to dust while he hung his head low. 

"Thaladred, Thaladred, don't be so glum. We came to an agreement, did we not? Say it back to me." Syra said, and made a fresh cup of tea in front of him. 

"A seat on the Convocation, and full support for the Vandercross brat." Thaladred mumbled. 

An eerie silence crept over Thaladred after he uttered his reply. Glancing up, he moved just in time to see a giant sword go through the slit in his armored helmet, and pierce his eye. 

"Augh!" Thaladred howled in pain, and jerked backward, falling onto his back. 

The tea table fell over with him, spilling the boiling hot water into the gaps in his armor. 

"Crazy bitch!" Thaladred snarled. 

Syra hopped down next to him, then wrenched his helmet off, gripped him tightly by his hair, and stared at him with madness across her face. 

Thaladred gulped at the sight. He thought he was crazy. Only now did he realize that there was always a higher mountain. 

"Don't you ever. Ever. Ever! Disrespect my husband ever again. Got that?" 

"I understand."

"I own you Thaladred. You are my attack dog now. And if you ever feel bitter about this arrangement, I would be happy to duel you anytime." Syra got up from her squat, and strutted away like nothing had happened. 

Thaladred felt the strength return to his limbs as she left, yet the burning sensation in his veins never quite left as the cursed energy traveled to his wrist, forming a tattoo. . 

Fear and rage warred within him once more, but for once, fear won out. Snarling to himself, Thaladred kicked the table over, then roughly affixed his helmet and stomped off. 

Observing the entire escapade invisibly from a nearby rooftop, Faedra clucked her tongue, and wiped a tear from her eye. 

Her baby girl was all grown up! 

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Within the Palace of the Sun, Kael was within his chambers, practicing the speech he would be giving at the end of the funerary service. 

"Cry revenge, and let slip the gates of demise!" Kael spoke dramatically into the mirror. 

"Good one, Goldilocks!" Jan'alai guffawed from a nearby couch. 

Reclining within the room, the Forest Troll was munching on a big hunk of meat, and laughing at Kael's practice for the umpteenth time. 

Kael side eyed the Forest Troll, and huffed at her barbaric behavior. Dressed in fine silks, Jan'alai had torn the robe, exposing her muscular arms and abs, claiming they restricted her girls. 

Ugh. Just remembering that conversation had him palming his forehead in frustration. 

He hated to admit it, but her bust was not suited for the standard Highborn robes. Furthermore, she pestered him about Quel'Dorei culture at every turn! 

This girl was trouble with a capital T! 

After the battle with the Amani, Varrus-the best friend he hadn't seen in decades-all but glomped his wife-a wife Kael had never met before, and was still sour to have not been the best man at the wedding-had fled, and left him to deal with all of the clean up! Hah! As if Kael would stick around when he could be doing more productive things! All he wanted to do was sit in his study, close the blinds, and stare at his father's crown to fuel his inner revenge. Was that too much to ask for?

After the battle, Jan'alai said her people had sailed off to Kalimdor, to escape the prejudice. Fair enough, Kael thought, but why was she sticking around?! 

While Varrus was busy enjoying life, Kael was saddled with this blasted Troll. Worst of all, he had to put up with her criticisms! His speech was fine the way it was, and her constant nagging most certainly did not impact the several dozen revisions he had enacted thus far! 

"Oi, don't you have more practice to do, Goldilocks, or are you going to keep staring at me like that? A girl might get ideas~." Jan'alai laughed again at Kael's mounting frustration. 

Kael closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He swore, every second spent around this girl was a second washing away years of royal training. 

Looking into the mirror one more time, Kael tried thinking up the lines once more, then faltered, unable to get them out. 

'Damnit! This is why he ran away to Dalaran in the first place. Being King, public speaking, and leading armies were the last things he wanted to do.' Kael thought to himself in frustration. 

If only he had the confidence of his friend. Maybe then he and Jaina would already be…

"Come on Goldilocks, where is the brave guy blasting elementals and taking on a creature thought to be legend? Man up!" Jan'alai stood behind Kael, and roughly slapped Kael on the back, driving the air out of his lungs. 

"I. I am not very good at public speaking." Kael admitted to Jan'alai what he would never say to another of his people. 

"Well duh! Anyone with eyes could see that! I met you for the first time yesterday, and you all but fled the main fight without saying a word!" Jan'alai belly laughed between munches on her giant drumstick. 

Kael looked down. If even the Troll could notice his social faux pa, he must be the laughing stock of all of Silvermoon by now. 

"Oi, oi, oi! So you can't talk, so wha!? You're still a badass, Goldilocks! Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours. Keep it short, simple, and blast a little magic. You High Elves are impressed with that kind of thing more than flowery words anyhow." Jan'alai rolled her eyes, and picked at her ear with her pinky finger. 

Kael shivered at her casual attitude breaking every custom he was raised upon, but he found truth in her words. 

"Thank you, Lady Jan'alai, your words of encouragement are most appreciative." Kael lightly bowed his head, feeling a slight burden lift from his shoulders. 

"Awe, you're a cutie, ain'tcha? Enough with this Lady crap, we're friends, call me Jan'alai!" Jan'alai grinned. 

'Friends.' Kael found himself unconsciously grinning at the word. 

"Very well…Jan'alai. Let us be…friends." Kael looked at Jan'alai, and prepared to lightly bow again. 

"Enough with the bowing, give it here Goldilocks!" Jan'alai laughed, then pulled Kael in for a tight embrace. 

Kael's eyes widened in surprise as Jan'alai was much stronger than him, and forcefully pulled him closer. 

The Forest Troll was a whole head taller than Kael, and practically suffocated him in between her breasts such was the power of her hug. 

Kael heard the door to his chambers open, and a familiar mocking voice calling out. 

"Oh my, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Varrus the bastard said as he strutted into the room. 

"Pwah!" Kael gasped for air as he was suddenly released. 

For some reason, Jan'alai's face was blushing purple, but Kael didn't bother with that as he quickly adjusted his crumpled robes and messy hair. 

His eyes scanned the room wildly, hoping no one else had witnessed this embarrassing episode. 

"Relax Kael, it's just me." Varrus chuckled as he entered, stopping to pour himself a glass of wine, then took a seat. 

Kael eyed the door, and saw Varrus' bodyguard, Rho'dan closing it behind him. 

He supposed just any Elf was allowed within his room now?

"Don't look so pent up, my mother-in-law has dirt on your majordomo, Pathaleon. Entry was child's play. Besides, all the guards here saw what we did to the Trolls, present company excluded of course." Varrus raised his goblet toward Jan'alai, and took a sip. 

Who was looking pent up? Kael marched over, swiped the goblet-his personal goblet-out of Varrus' hands, and took a deep swig of it, then collapsed onto the couch beside his friend. 

"How can you be so blase at a time like this? Our fathers lie dead, our people suffering, and you, you have the gall to swagger into my chambers like you own the place! Shouldn't you be off gathering the councilors for your little club?" Kael said bitterly. 

"No need to sulk, Kael, I have my end all squared away, and came to deliver the documentation for ratification." Varrus smugly smirked-as if there was some other way to smirk!-and handed him a large, formal document. 

Kael scowled, a Prince did not sulk! He was not sulking! 

Roughly grabbing the documentation, Kael quickly scanned the names one by one. Seeing that there were no egregious members Varrus wanted on the Convocation, he hastily signed the paper, affixed his seal to it, and tossed it back to Varrus. 

"There. It is finished. Now if you would kindly step out, I am busy rehearsing my speech." Kael shooed Varrus away imperiously with a wave of the hand. 

"Ha! Goldilocks is full of it! He has no speech. Between you and me, I think he wants another hug." Jan'alai butted in with a grin that was all teeth. 

"Oh hoh? Goldilocks, is it?" Varrus matched Jan'alai's grin, and slapped his arm around Kael's shoulder. 

'You have blonde hair too.' Kael stared daggers into Varrus' smiling, punchable face. 

"Anyway, I can see you're very busy in here Kael. Before I go, I wanted to show off something of mine." Varrus said, then reached into the mageweave bag by his side. 

Holding it by the braids, Varrus revealed a Trolls head. 

Kael quirked his eyebrow, what was his friend trying to do? 

The head then blinked its eyes, and opened its mouth. 

"Ay mon, watcha tryin ta do?" 

"Zul'Jin!" Jan'alai jumped from her relaxed position nearby, and ran at the head in Varrus' grasp with the intent to kill. 

"Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast!" Varrus said, blinking 5ft away, and dodging Jan'alai's flame coated fist. 

"I don't know what ails you so, Jan'alai, but we can work this out." Kael stood up and acted as a shield for his two friends.

"That's Zul'Jin! The tormentor of my people! I must kill him!" Jan'alai huffed like a bull in heat. 

"Varrus, why don't you let Jan'alai here kill the Amani chieftain?" Kael said over his shoulder. 

"Hahaha! Because silly Elf! Ta kill me, all da Loa bound ta me must die!" The head kf Zul'Jin cackled from Varrus's hand. 

"It's true." Varrus nodded. 

"Then if dying is the only way to erase that monster, so be it!" Jan'alai drew a dagger that was latched onto her waist, inverted it, and moved to plunge it into her heart with no hesitation. 

"No!" Kael ran forward, and held his hand out. 

When Jan'alai was about to bring the dagger down, it stabbed into Kael's hand which had come between her dagger and her heart. 

"Goldilocks." Jan'alai hissed. 

"I won't let my friend die needlessly. I've lost too much!" Kael laughed the pain away with a hysterical laugh. Tears were beginning to pool at the corner of his eyes, and rage flashed across his face from all the pain and suffering he had experienced in the last 7 days. 

The dagger in Jan'alai's hand was wrenched from her grasp, and telekinetically pulled into Varrus' hand. Then a beam of Light magic closed up Kael's wound as if it had never existed. 

"Trust me Jan'alai, he suffers more now than he ever would in death. Just look at him? With the help of Rhommath, we worked a way so that Zul'Jin could no longer regeberate his body from the waist down." Varrus chuckled as he jangled Zul'Jin up and down by the braid of his hair. 

Kael eyed Jan'alai, and daw the same hurt on her that he felt when he learnt of his father's passing. 

"I'm sorry Green Beak, but I can't lose you too. Please forgive me." Kael weakly smiled, and reached out to hold her hand. 

She took Kael's hand, the one that still had blood on it, and pressed it to her heart. 

"No Kael, thank you for being my first friend." Jan'alai smiled down at him. 

"Green Beak, huh? So big, so muscular, yet so feminine. I'm impressed Goldilocks, I didn't think you had it in you." Varrus coughed between laughter, leading Kael to pull back his hand in a hurry, as if it had been scalded by hot water. 

"Eh, the great Vandercross likes my nickname, you should share with us what your wife calls you." Jan'alai wriggled her eyebrows suggestiveley. 

"Yes, I too am quite interested in this." Kael said, rubbing his chin as if he was a scholar in deep thought. 

"Ahem. I hate to ruin a great moment, but I really should be going. Syra and I will treat you two to lunch sometime after this whole funeral thing is taken care of. Take care." Varrus nodded at the two of them, then swiftly departed. 

Kael turned back to Jan'alai, but saw that she had jumped out the window, transformed into her dragonhawk form and flew away into the distance. 

Pausing at the window, Kael looked down at his hand, and saw dried crimson staining the sleeve to his robes. 

His heart was a flutter, and he didn't know why he had stuck his hand out like that without a second thought. 

Just what was he thinking? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Varrus stepped out of Kael'Thas's private room with a big goofy grin on his face. 

"Good news, Highlord?" Rho'dan enquired. 

"My boy is getting in! Hahaha, yeah!" Varrus fist pumped, and side-hugged Rho'dan in excitement. 

"If you say so, Highlord." Rho'dan said stoically as he was rocked left and right by the celebratory hug. 

Varrus was quick to let his guard go as the other palace guard began to give him strange looks. 

'Ah, fuck'em!' Varrus chuckled in a good mood. 

His mopey emo friend could finally forget about that traitor Jaina, and find a woman who really cared for him.

And most importantly, his wife wouldn't be clawing out his eyeballs because the attractive Forest Troll would be together with Kael! 

Hell yeah! 

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