For four months, a full quarter, the Malden Orchard entered its winter rest period.
Rhonin was indeed a naturally gifted mage, if the other person being compared isn't Leylin
"What are the results of the past four months?" Leylin asked.
"Conjuration, Multicast Mastery" said the red-haired mage.
"What are the theoretical components and practical effectiveness?"
Rhonin confidently said, "Brutal force. This type of spell talent can multiply a simple attack spell several times, dozens of times in a chain. For example, an arcane orb can be cast once in your hands, but at least ten times in mine!"
"What about the mana consumption?"
Rhonin smiled, as if being asked the most crucial question. "Of course, it's ten times as much. The School of Conjuration's mastery categories are mostly burst-type spell talents. A burst requires a massive expenditure of, or even overdrawing, one's own magical energy to attack the enemy."
The issue of magical energy consumption has always been a problem for the mages.
"My spell mastery avoids excessive mana consumption. So, would you like to learn it?" Leylin asked.
"You want to trade? I understand what you mean." Rhonin was no fool; he understood what Leylin meant.
Leylin nodded. "Come on, let's trade."
Rhonin looked hesitant. This was the first time he had ever been embarrassed by Leylin. This was Kirin Tor's spell mastery; ordinary Dalaran apprentices weren't worthy of such mastery.
If Archmage Krasus hadn't chosen him as his apprentice, he probably wouldn't have learned such a spell mastery. After intense deliberation, Rhonin made a decision.
He copied the magic book on multicasting masteries onto magical paper and handed it to Leylin. A gloom fell over the usually optimistic Rhonin's face.
He whispered, "We're taking a risk. If the Kirin Tor discovers I've leaked this spell mastery, we could both be exiled!"
Exile? We can't wait until that time. In a few years, the entire Eastern Kingdoms will be engulfed in the flames of the second war.
By then, no one will care about two young mages exchanging spell masteries between the two kingdoms. Besides, this isn't a leak; Grand Magister Belo'vir never said this spell mastery was to be kept secret.
Leylin tucked the magic seal into his magic bag, his lips curled as he said, "The future belongs to us young mages, not those old ones."
Such outrageous remarks would surely lead to exile from the Kirin Tor and permanent banishment from Dalaran.
"Your ideas have always been so crazy, but I agree!" Rhonin clenched his fists.
It was the fifth year after the Dark Portal, almost late autumn, and Leylin wanted to know how the war in the south was going.
"Let's put the magic aside for now. How is the war in the south going?" Leylin was in Quel'Thalas, isolated from the news, and Rhonin was his only source of information.
"The entire area south of the Swamp of Sorrows has been contaminated by a strange energy, devoid of vegetation and trees. The orcs have occupied this area."
This place is likely the future Blasted Lands, the location of the Dark Portal.
"What about Stormwind? The orcs haven't continued their advance?" According to what he knows, this should be somewhere between the Second War. Leylin knows both Lirath and Lireesa should have fallen in the orcs invasion to the north. But clearly there might have some alterations within this timeline.
Rhonin recalled a significant event that occurred in Dalaran few months prior, Archmage Krasus told him about it. A young mage named Khadgar entering Karazhan with Anduin Lothar.
Through his knowledge of the Council of Tirisfal, Rhonin learned that Karazhan's master was the domain of the son of Guardian Magna Aegwynn.
Rhonin summarized his information and said, "Ever since the death of a powerful mage named Medivh in Karazhan, the orcish offensive has intensified. The Kingdom of Stormwind Kingdom has fallen. A few days ago, a special envoy from the kingdom came to Dalaran seeking mages for reinforcement."
"Given the route of the orcish attack, it seems my trip to Quel'Thalas would be a wise choice," Leylin quipped.
The red-haired mage knew the guy was joking. "It's best that the elves can provide you with shelter. What I worry about is whether the runestones of Quel'Thalas can withstand the attacks of these barbaric tribes."
"The rulers of the kingdom are not useless. They know how to unite. What I worry about is the future fate of us mages. Especially the mages of Dalaran!" Leylin reminded the mage in front of him.
Rhonin breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "The mages of Dalaran are just like the soldiers of the kingdom. When war comes, they can't avoid stepping onto the battlefield. Don't relax either. One day, the orcs will reach out to Quel'Thalas. The resources of the elven kingdom are much richer than those south of the Swamp of Sorrows."
"Don't die," Leylin said calmly, raising an eyebrow.
The red-haired mage sitting across from him had a look of melancholy on his face. In this war-torn year, who can predict the outcome?
My mentor told me that the orcs are continuing to advance north, and you must join me on the battlefield!
Standing up, smiling, stroking the long red hair on his forehead, Rhonin said confidently: "As an Archmage, the word death has never appeared in my vocabulary."
"That's good, but I must be the Grand Magister first." Leylin said confidently.
"Grand Magister? You can come to the Kirin Tor Council as a member."
"Really? Is there a magic subsidy? How much is the subsidy? I need to think about it in advance." Leylin continued the mage's words.
Damn greedy fellow, you're already rich from your orchard. Rhonin said inwardly.
"Forget it, to be honest, I hope that after the Orc War is over, we can still meet here alive."
"The two great mages are meeting here. By the way, can we go to the Kingdom of Lordaeron to attend the celebration party in the evening?" Leylin said very seriously.
It didn't seem like a joke. The red-haired mage saw the seriousness in Leylin's eyes.
"It's settled. Two great mages, uh, no, one archmage and one grand magister!" The red-haired mage felt warm in his heart, and his will burned.
As usual, Rhonin walked out of the cabin in the Malden Orchard.
Walking on the small path in the orchard, Rhonin looked back several times. He didn't know when he would come here next time. If he could survive.
Leylin was in the cabin, packing up his paintbrushes and magic printing paper. These past memories were very precious. But today he had to say goodbye to them.
Riding on the dragonhawk again, Leylin set out on the road back to Quel'Thalas.
Silverpine Forest, no more nostalgia.