Where should he go to find power?
As Allen wandered the streets of Stormwind, that question filled his mind.
His first instinct was to complete the main quest given by the system—the one that required him to "weave a grand deception."
But along the way, he had casually tricked a few passersby, yet the quest progress hadn't budged at all.
Perhaps it was because those were just trivial little scams?
What the system wanted… was a truly grand deception?
Without realizing it, Allen had drifted all the way to the front of the Cathedral of Light.
He stopped, looking up.
The Cathedral stood majestically at the end of Stormwind, its white stone walls gleaming with a sacred radiance under the sunlight.
Solemn hymns drifted faintly from deep within, cleansing the soul of every listener.
A sudden idea struck Allen.
Since he couldn't complete the system's main quest and unlock the DND class system, then he could try unlocking a World of Warcraft class instead!
He was already here—might as well see whether the Holy Light would favor him.
He straightened his clothes, put on a devout expression, and slipped into the Cathedral.
The interior was even more magnificent than the outside. Rows of towering stone pillars supported the dome, and beams of colored light cast through stained glass windows resembled stairways to heaven.
A few scattered worshippers sat on the benches. Candlelight flickered before holy statues, and the air was filled with the scent of incense.
Allen looked around and quickly found his target—a female bishop in a white robe, arranging candlesticks before the altar.
She had a kind face, gentle eyes, and seemed to be surrounded by a faint halo of light.
Allen hurried forward and bowed deeply.
"Respected Bishop, I am a lost traveler from afar, and today I have finally arrived at the sanctuary of the Holy Light. I… I wish to receive its blessing and become a follower of the Light!"
The bishop turned, her gaze soft as she looked at him.
"Child, the Holy Light welcomes all who sincerely seek it."
Allen's expression grew even more devout.
"Please pray for me. I long to feel the warmth of the Light!"
The bishop smiled and nodded. She raised her hand, placing it gently atop Allen's head, then closed her eyes and began to pray in a low voice.
The prayer was ancient and solemn. Allen felt a warm force flow into him from the crown of his head—at first just warmth, then rapidly rising in temperature, turning scorching, and finally—
"AAAAAAAHHHHH—!"
Allen let out a miserable scream. His whole body curled up as he staggered backward, nearly knocking over the candlestick behind him.
His skin flushed an unnatural red, and faint wisps of smoke rose from his hair.
The bishop opened her eyes. Looking at the disheveled Allen on the ground, a trace of understanding flashed in her gaze.
"Child," she said gently, "the Holy Light is not suited for you."
Allen rubbed his burning head, on the verge of tears.
Not only was he not favored by the Light—he was actually afraid of it? Why?
At this point, it was clear he couldn't become a priest. Allen looked at the bishop.
Since the path of the Light didn't work, then…
"Well then, respected Bishop," he said, pulling a green stone from his pocket, "I have here a priceless gem—an arcane crystal rarely seen even once in a hundred years! Just look at this color, this luster—an absolute treasure! I'll sell it to you cheap, just one gold coin. How about it?"
Before leaving, to thank Allen, Boss Farley had given him the short sword he had picked up earlier, along with a large bag of malachite.
Malachite might sound like a gemstone, but in reality it was just a byproduct of Azeroth's copper mines, completely worthless—not even worth a single copper coin.
It was the kind of thing that felt like a burden just to carry around, so to avoid wasting it, Allen had been trying to scam people into buying the bag along the way.
[Deception Check: Failed]
The bishop quietly watched him, her eyes seeming to see through all disguises.
Then, she smiled.
She raised her hand and gently patted Allen's head, like a loving mother soothing a mischievous child.
"Child," she said softly, "the Holy Light will forgive you."
Allen froze.
Standing there, watching her retreating figure, a complicated emotion welled up in his heart—something difficult to describe.
He shook his head, forcing the feeling away, and slipped out of the Cathedral of Light in defeat.
The path of the Light—failed.
But Allen was not someone who gave up easily.
He lifted his head and looked into the distance. On the other side of Stormwind, several towering purple spires shimmered with a mysterious glow, their tops wreathed in faint arcane light.
The Mage Quarter.
That was the arcane sanctuary of Stormwind—the domain of mages.
If he couldn't be a priest, then being a mage should work, right?
Taking a deep breath, Allen set off in that direction.
The architecture of the Mage Quarter was completely different from the Cathedral district. Most of the people walking the streets wore long robes.
Allen stopped before a grand arcane sanctum. At that moment, a group of mage apprentices entered together, and with a quick turn of his eyes, Allen silently slipped in with them.
Once inside, he scanned the area and quickly locked onto a target.
A young female apprentice mage—no more than fifteen or sixteen—her brown hair tied into a simple ponytail, her face still carrying a hint of innocence and naivety.
She was carrying a stack of books, struggling as she headed toward the stairs. She looked like the kind of person who was easy to talk to and soft-hearted.
Allen quickly stepped forward and blocked her path.
"Hello!" He put on a sincere and pitiful expression. "I'm the son of a farmer from the countryside outside Stormwind! Since I was young… I've always admired the arcane sanctum. I dream of becoming a mage! But my family is too poor—we can't afford the tuition, and I have no one to recommend me… Could you please help me?"
The young apprentice froze.
Her name was Emmy Malin, and she really was the soft-hearted type.
Looking at the "poor countryside boy" before her, with that yearning light in his eyes, her heart softened.
Of course, she knew she was only an apprentice herself, with no authority to decide who could enter the sanctum. But she couldn't bear to see this young man get thrown out by the cold, unfeeling mages inside.
"My name is Emmy Malin. Um…" She hesitated, then took out a fist-sized crystal orb from her robe pocket. "This is a magic network sensing orb. It's used to test arcane affinity. To become a mage, you first need sufficient affinity…"
She handed the crystal ball to Allen.
"Hold it, focus your mind, and imagine yourself connecting with the magic around you."
Allen took the crystal ball, took a deep breath, and followed her instructions.
He focused, imagining magic flowing into his body…
The crystal ball showed no reaction.
He tried again, concentrating even harder…
Still nothing. The orb remained completely inert.
Emmy bit her lip.
"Um… try again? Maybe you need to relax a bit…"
Allen tried a third time, a fourth, a fifth.
The crystal ball was like it was dead—not even the faintest glimmer appeared.
The expectation on Emmy's face gradually turned into awkwardness, and then into sympathy.
Allen released the crystal ball, staring at it expressionlessly.
Seriously?
Seriously?
The Holy Light rejected him, and arcane power ignored him too?
Didn't they know that the last guy rejected by every kind of power had been an orc? That guy later embraced fel energy… right, his name was Gul'dan.
At this point…
Allen took a deep breath, raised his head, and once again put on a sincere smile.
He pulled out that same green stone—the same piece of malachite.
"Well then, Miss Emmy," he said with absolute sincerity, "I have here a priceless gem—an arcane crystal rarely seen in a hundred years! To thank you for giving me this opportunity, I'll sell it to you cheap. Just one silver coin. How about it?"