CHAPTER 141: THE HIGH SHAMAN’S AUDIENCE

The Orc faction was ruled by two leaders whose powers were carefully divided.

The Great Chieftain commanded the military, holding authority over every campaign and battle. The High Shaman, meanwhile, managed the inner workings of the Orcs, tending to their faith and rituals, and handling diplomacy with other races. It was this second figure who now stood at the center of Ryan’s quest.

The Great Chieftain was nowhere to be seen. Only the High Shaman remained in the Elemental Hall, surrounded by a constant flow of Orc NPCs seeking his attention.

Ryan paused outside the great doors, received a curt nod from the guard on duty, then drew a steadying breath and stepped inside.

The instant he crossed the threshold, his hidden ID information flared into view. The sudden revelation sent a ripple of commotion through the crowd of Dark Horde players who had been trailing after him.

Ambassador · Godslayer · Featherlight (Flowing Light)

No one quite understood why this human Paladin carried so many titles, but every single one of them recognized the name that followed. Featherlight.

Among the Orc players, that name was infamous. He was the rogue Paladin who had repeatedly humiliated Ironblood Covenant, the largest Orc guild. To see him appear here, in their very capital, left many stunned. Rival guild members, locked in their own struggle for dominance with Ironblood Covenant, could barely hide their delight. If Ironblood Covenant failed to act against their sworn enemy now, the humiliation would be exquisite.

Ironblood Blade, the Covenant’s leader, was informed almost immediately of Featherlight’s arrival. Yet he made no move, and his calm indifference baffled those around him.

"Boss, are we really going to sit back and do nothing?" one of his officers asked hesitantly.

"Of course we do nothing," Ironblood Blade replied evenly. "If Featherlight walked into the Elemental Hall without being cut down, it means he’s on a quest. You saw the recording—his ID only became visible the moment he stepped inside. He clearly doesn’t want to cause a scene."

He turned his attention back to the monster he was fighting, speaking as though the matter were already decided. "Why should we rush in and get ourselves killed just to satisfy our pride? A guild is built on strength and steady growth. Featherlight might shine on his own, but one person can’t compete with a united force. Are we really going to pretend he alone can clear every raid dungeon that lies ahead?"

Ironblood Blade had long since understood the truth. No matter how powerful a lone player became in Kingdom Forge, their glory was fleeting. A single man could not hold ground against the tide of a well-trained guild. Honors, titles, reputations—such things were nothing more than the moon’s reflection on water, beautiful to admire but broken with the smallest ripple.

Ryan, of course, knew nothing of these calculations. His only concern was the shock of having his identity revealed the moment he entered the hall. It caught him off guard for a heartbeat, but he quickly pushed it aside.

What mattered more was the figure striding toward him.

The High Shaman.

Ryan knew this Orc far too well. In his past life, he had stormed this very city at the head of his guild’s raid, bringing down both the Great Chieftain and the High Shaman again and again. He remembered their strength clearly. That memory was enough to send a shiver through him now, even though he stood in a different life.

Although the game had yet to receive its next update, the High Shaman’s level already sat at forty-three. His strength at that stage was nothing to scoff at. With more than a million health points and several devastating area-of-effect spells, he could easily wipe out an elite party of level-forty players in seconds.

So when the High Shaman began walking toward him, Ryan’s first instinct was to stop dead in his tracks. His body stiffened, every instinct screaming at him to retreat. But he held himself steady, refusing to back away, and waited as the figure closed the distance.

The tension broke when the cinematic triggered. Ryan exhaled in relief, watching as his character automatically began the interaction with the High Shaman.

Once the scripted exchange ended, a message popped into his quest log. Under [Diplomatic Alliance], the objective for High Shaman Bandari was now marked complete.

Ryan turned on his heel and left the hall. His Hearthstone was still on cooldown, so returning to Alliance territory wasn’t an option. For now, wandering the city would have to do. It struck him as a good chance to shop for unique Orc faction items—schematics for blacksmithing, or rare alchemy recipes sold only to the Dark Horde.

Normally, Alliance players never had the chance to obtain these things. Once bought, they bound directly to the player, making trade impossible. But Ryan’s special questline had given him that access.

The truth was, the items weren’t all that useful, and Ryan had no particular plans to craft them. Even so, he bought them anyway, almost on reflex. It was the same instinct every dedicated crafter had: the need to fill out the collection. Seeing a long list of recipes, complete and polished, brought a satisfaction of its own—even if half of them were useless.

In later stages of the game, Ryan remembered, there were players who would spend endless stamina grinding through outdated dungeons just for a handful of rare bind-on-pickup schematics. That was the true "completionist" mindset.

Ryan wasn’t willing to go that far, but when something fell into his lap this easily, he certainly wasn’t going to ignore it.

As he strolled from shop to shop, the crowd behind him swelled instead of thinning. Orc players trailed after him in packs, chattering incessantly in Orcish. Ryan couldn’t understand a single word, and the nonstop noise grated on him until his patience snapped.

He shot a glare at a Warlock blocking his path, spat out a sharp "Get lost," in Common Tongue, and pushed his way into his next destination: the Auction House.

The sudden outburst had an unexpected effect. The surrounding players froze, then quickly realized the human Paladin hadn’t understood a word of what they’d been saying all this time. Every attempt to taunt him, question him, or provoke him had gone straight over his head.

With the novelty gone, some of them drifted away. He was still Featherlight, but at the end of the day, he was just another human on a quest.

Ryan ignored them, opened the Auction House interface, and was pleasantly surprised to find he could use it without restriction.

He began typing into the search bar, pulling from his memory of past lives and patch notes. If the listings were the same as before, there were unique Dark Horde ingredients here that Alliance players almost never saw.

One particular entry made his eyes light up: the key ingredient for cooking Savory Deviate Delight—Mutated Fish.