Chapter 466: Rhonin's Redemption

Rhonin lifted his head, his emerald eyes looking slightly dazed under a thick mane of fiery hair.

A scar ran across his nose, the handiwork of a fellow apprentice, but despite the culprit's cunning, Rhonin had never thought of having it healed.

Nonetheless, Rhonin was not hard on the eyes—his firm and elegant jawline and sharply defined face features stood out. The pair of arched eyebrows made his expression always seem filled with irony and skepticism.

Most people are superficial, often dismissing others before they have the chance to understand their inner beauty, due to preconceptions influenced by outward appearances.

Rhonin too was subjected to such prejudice.

His appearance caused him troubles more than once during his interactions with high-ranking individuals. His attempts to ease the situation were often undermined by his fierce looks and overly dramatic body language.

Clothed in an elegant midnight-blue robe, he stood tall and drew attention, even among other mages.

Rhonin remained silent, for he had lost five good companions during his last mission. As he was currently held in confinement awaiting trial, any unnecessary words could add fuel to the charges against him.

He stood directly in the middle of the room, his gaze returning to the door, waiting for a mage to come through and speak with him.

An interrogation, or perhaps a direct verdict from some high-ranking official.

Unexpectedly, the door made of seemingly sturdy metal vanished without a sound, as is the nature of doors constructed with magic, controlled by a set of magical control programs that ordinary mages could not comprehend. The Kirin Tor Council had used this cage system to imprison a considerable number of felons in the Violet Hold beneath Dalaran for centuries.

The sudden light emanating from the doorway caused Rhonin to turn his head away, squinting his eyes. But soon, he opened them again, staring straight ahead.

Surprisingly, it wasn't a formidable inquisitor and his assistants, nor was it Krasus, who was like half a mentor to him, but a young mage with black hair streaked with a few strands of silvery white, an odd contrast to his excessively youthful face.

Rhonin sized up the newcomer, and naturally, the newcomer was Duke.

Duke too was sizing up Rhonin, seeing a pair of deep green eyes as tranquil as a lake before a storm. There was no fear, no anger, no hatred. He could clearly see the ugly scar on Rhonin's nose, and the helplessness beneath the seemingly fierce expression.

Furthermore, there was hardly any visible anger — this discordance made it difficult for Duke to reconcile the man in front of him with the illustrious Kirin Tor mage from history.

Since his arrival in this world, Duke had never seen such an expression before. It was the kind of look someone might have after being abandoned by a teacher, blamed by peers, ridiculed by the world, and made an enemy of the entire world.

If he were an ordinary person, he would probably be hunched over, head bowed, trying to appear as humble and pitiable as possible in the face of authority.

But not Rhonin.

From the moment the door opened, his posture was as erect as a pine tree, without a raised chin or lowered gaze, he just calmly stared into Duke's eyes.

That's right!

Rhonin was not afraid of death, nor did he fear interrogation, he was just waiting for a verdict.

Would it be eternal damnation, or... redemption?

"Hello, Rhonin, my name is Duke Marcus. Nice to meet you for the first time."

Duke Marcus!?

The name, made famous by the Dark Portal War a year and a half ago, had already spread across two continents.

Rhonin was taken aback for the first time. Why would such a famous figure come to see him?

"Forgive me, sir, for my dullness. I fail to understand how I, a sinner, can be of any help to you. Or, by meeting me, aren't you afraid that you'll be inviting misfortune?"

Duke chuckled.

"If it were indeed the power of the goddess of misfortune, then anyone who glances at it would be unlucky," replied Duke. "But your level of misfortune is just a scratch on the surface to me, who is cursed by the leader of the Burning Legion, Sargeras, and has only one month to live. If you really can bring misfortune, then I should die in front of you right now. Shall we count down? Three... two... one... I'm dead... Oh? It seems I'm still not dead. It looks like your misfortune doesn't affect me, so why don't you hang out with me for a while and see?"

Rhonin was speechless, he simply couldn't keep up with the thought process of the distinguished figure before him.

He felt like he was losing the ability to think. When he was harshly seized by the Kirin Tor's Internal Affairs force, like a bag of garbage being hauled away, he thought his dismal career as a mage, even this cursed life, was about to find relief.

But when the door opened, Rhonin found that he was not greeted with a verdict—either execution or the destruction of all his magic circuits, living the rest of his life as a mundane who could no longer use magic—but rather, an offer to tag along with a legendary figure who should only exist in stories?

Rhonin was a bit dumbfounded.

Duke scratched his head, "It seems my reputation isn't that useful, huh! Well then, for the sake of the Alliance, for the sake of all humans, dwarves, and high elves, could you do me a favor? It's a very dangerous mission..."

As Duke said this, Rhonin suddenly snapped back to reality.

For the first time, Rhonin lowered his head, then quickly raised it again, but there were a few tears in the corners of his eyes, and he roared hoarsely, "I'm willing! Whatever it is, I'm willing! I don't ask for any merit, just to wash away some of the sins I carry, so I don't have to think of the faces of the victims' families every night, to make my heart feel a little better, even if it means dying, I am willing!"

Duke was taken aback, and then he realized.

The course of Azeroth's history was still following its original inertia. But this wasn't the same historical time point as before. In the original timeline, when Rhonin went to save the Red Dragon Queen, it was after the end of the war, and he had been in confinement for a long time. At that time, Rhonin's mood had already calmed down, or he had given up hope.

But now, it was exactly the point when Rhonin had just made a mistake and his conscience was most tormented.

Like a wanderer at the edge of a cliff unable to find a way, venting his inner pain, Duke had extended a makeshift wooden bridge from the other side of the cliff.

Although it looked unstable and raised many questions, without a doubt, it was Rhonin's only redemption at the moment.

Duke lowered his head and sighed, "Rhonin, if you're going to hang out with me from now on, let me tell you why your magic always goes out of control."