For three full days, Leylin shut himself inside the arcane construct material room. No interruptions. No disturbances. Not even the faint arcane probing of that troublesome Nightborne woman.
The silence was absolute—broken only by the low hum of magic arrays and the rhythmic tapping of Leylin's fingers as he engraved rune after rune into the glowing memory disk suspended before him.
On the circular magic memory storage disk, thirty-six complete magic rune arrays slowly stabilized, each one interlocking with the next like perfectly meshed gears. Their glow was restrained yet profound, forming a layered structure that reflected Leylin's meticulous nature.
Only after confirming the absolute stability of these arrays did Leylin allow himself a short breath. "The foundation is complete."
Next came the true heart of the construct. The Leylin Arcane Core Array.
Unlike standard Nightborne constructs that relied on rigid, single-path logic, Leylin's design incorporated dual-line magic control, a fusion of arcane precision and elemental adaptability. It was a system inspired by Frank's construct mechanism, refined further through Leylin's own understanding.
At his current level, Leylin's mastery of dual-line magic had already reached the same tier as Grand Magister Belo'vir. Each arcane node, each energy conduit, was drawn without hesitation—smooth, decisive strokes etched with terrifying accuracy.
Even the central control array, which governed the entire construct, was completed without error.
Once the core array stabilized, Leylin moved to the second floor of the materials room.
An enormous pre-installed arcane matrix lay embedded into the floor—an advanced platform designed for high-level construct assembly. Leylin carefully transferred the rune arrays and the core structure into the matrix, one layer at a time.
Arcane light surged. The room trembled faintly. An hour later, Leylin stepped back. Before him stood his completed creation.
Though it lacked the refinement and sophistication of Frank's legendary constructs, Leylin felt no dissatisfaction. "It's more than enough for now."
He had briefly considered inscribing wisdom magic runes or even constructing a full intelligence matrix. But Leylin understood the cost better than anyone. Even he and his mentor, Belo'vir, working without rest for an entire week, could only complete a rough prototype.
Time was a luxury he did not possess. That task would have to wait. Still, fate offered him a suitable alternative. Among the materials he had discreetly retained, Leylin found something unusual—a soul fragment.
At first glance, it resembled a primitive wisdom matrix, but upon closer examination, Leylin immediately understood its structure. "A pseudo-intelligence anchor…"
This soul fragment was formed by binding the soul of a creature to a magic matrix. While it lacked true humanoid intelligence, it possessed instinct, personality, and behavioral patterns.
The fragment Leylin held belonged to a Nightsaber Panther. "If embedded…" Leylin's eyes gleamed faintly. The construct would not merely follow commands—it would behave.
Without hesitation, Leylin embedded the soul fragment directly into the Leylin Arcane Core Array. The reaction was immediate. Arcane light surged violently through the matrix. Metal warped. Mana reshaped structure.
The humanoid construct's form twisted and collapsed inward, its frame shrinking and elongating as fur-like arcane patterns spread across its surface. Limbs restructured, claws formed, and a sleek, predatory silhouette emerged.
Moments later, a Nightsaber Panther construct stood before Leylin. Its body shimmered faintly with shadowed arcane lines, muscles coiled with restrained power. Its eyes opened—bright, alert, and unmistakably alive.
Leylin was not surprised. The form of an arcane construct was often dictated by the mage's knowledge and the embedded soul. Though Leylin had not created the fragment himself, the result made perfect sense.
The panther descended from the matrix and approached Leylin cautiously. Then—It lowered its head and rubbed its whiskers against his hand.
Leylin paused… then smiled faintly. He raised a hand and gently stroked the panther's forehead. "From now on," he said softly, "your name is Shadow Stalker."
At noon, Leylin took Shadow Stalker into the garden. The construct moved gracefully, leaping between glowing flowerbeds and resting beneath fluorescent trees as though it had always belonged there. Aside from its faint arcane aura, it was indistinguishable from a true Nightsaber.
Unfortunately, peace rarely lasted long. Three days later, Leylin encountered the long-absent madwoman once again. "Eliones."
She stood at the garden's edge, arms crossed, gaze fixed on Shadow Stalker with undisguised interest.
"Mr. Leylin," she said coolly, "it seems you're quite adept at utilizing the resources here."
Shadow Stalker immediately stepped in front of Leylin, fur bristling, low growl rumbling from its throat. Leylin didn't bother hiding his satisfaction.
"Not bad," he replied casually. "Your manor is overflowing with materials. Letting them rot would be a waste." Eliones' brows twitched.
"So that's your justification for using my materials to create a construct hostile toward me?"
Shadow Stalker bared its fangs. Leylin waved his hand dismissively. "Go play."
The panther hesitated, then trotted away, curling beneath a glowing tree and promptly falling asleep. Eliones exhaled slowly.
"Let's talk business," Leylin said calmly. "You didn't come here to admire my craftsmanship." She grimaced—but nodded.
"A few days ago, you were curious about Suramar's underground energy transport structure," she said. "This time, I'll grant your wish."
Leylin's eyes sharpened. "And the price?"
"There's something I need retrieved." She explained.
Ten thousand years ago, during the War of the Ancients, countless leaders fell in Suramar. Their souls were preserved by an ancient elven organization deep within underground palaces.
Leylin frowned. "Necromancy?"
Eliones scoffed. "Don't insult me. I'm not raising corpses. I'm awakening them—to resist the Burning Legion… and to serve my purposes."
"Which soul?" Leylin asked flatly. Eliones' voice hardened.
"Kur'talos Ravencrest. Commander of the Kaldorei during the War of the Ancients."
Leylin nodded slowly. "I understand. Location?"
"Elven Magic Corridor. Underground. End of the line."
She paused. "It's been active for ten thousand years. I can't guarantee what you'll face. Bring out your powerful weapons."
Leylin sneered. "Don't get ahead of yourself."
For the last time, Eliones hesitated. This human mage… was really dangerous.
Leylin coughed lightly and added with a faint grin, "Relax. I was just joking." Eliones stared at him.
And for the first time since meeting Leylin, she wasn't sure whether it was the right thing to cooperate with this human.