Ode to Joy

The voice of the System AI chimed in again, a digital alarm bell ringing in Duke's mind: "Warning! Alleria Windrunner is detected to be harboring hostility towards you beneath a false expression. Do you require the 'Boss Template' to be loaded? Estimating threat value… Threat value is highly erratic, but it is strongly recommended that the host surrender immediately… or perhaps bring flowers and chocolates."

Surrender what?! Duke's mental retort was immediate. What in the blazes was that supposed to mean? That look screamed, 'You've got a storm brewing, sunshine, and you'd better bring a damn umbrella, or you're gonna get soaked!'

Duke had no earthly idea what had gotten into Alleria. He only knew that every action had a reaction, a cause and effect. If it were just that friendly little tackle, Alleria shouldn't have been dredging up the entire Windrunner family's past. On the other hand, though Duke had only been in contact with Alleria for a short time, he had a gut feeling he owed her one, big time. Otherwise, Alleria wouldn't give a hill of beans about him trying to sweet-talk Princess Calia.

After all, among the three Windrunner sisters in history, Alleria was famous for being mature and steady, a real straight shooter. She was definitely not the type to throw a fit over nothing, or act like a drama queen.

And her calling herself an "old woman"… If Alleria were a warrior, that would be her battle cry, a declaration of pure, unadulterated fury!

Duke's heart did a little jig of terror!

Then, a light bulb flickered on in Duke's head, a glorious epiphany! Wasn't it just about pulling out all the stops? About dazzling the pants off a goddess?

Duke slowly turned his head, sneaking a glance at Turalyon. For some reason, he swore the Holy Light slowly radiating from Turalyon's head was taking on a distinct shade of chartreuse. Must be that 'guardian' light everyone talks about, Duke thought, a wicked grin playing on his lips.

Duke flashed a grin that could charm the scales off a dragon, and his right hand swept through the air in a flourish, his fingers closing with a dramatic flourish to tap his left shoulder. "Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his voice ringing out, "for the incomparable beauty of Sister Alleria, please allow the Duke Band to present an Ode to Joy!"

Ode to Joy? A song title, sure, but here? A hymn? A battle chant? And "Duke Band"? Was he about to pull out a lute and start serenading them? A cappella, on a dock, in front of kings and battle-hardened elves? The very thought made some nobles choke on their own spit.

Alleria, however, was already settling in, her stance practically screamed, "Alright, hotshot, let's see what you've got. You better not disappoint, or you'll be sleeping with the murlocs!" She supported her right elbow with her left palm, resting her chin on her right hand, looking every bit the connoisseur waiting for a spectacular performance.

Duke's arcane and ice magic circuits flared to life simultaneously.

A mysterious purple-blue magic circle suddenly unfolded beneath Duke's feet, pulsing with raw power. The very elements in the surrounding atmosphere shivered, then were quickly tamed, as if they had become an extension of Duke's own body, obediently awaiting his command.

In the blinding midday sun, in the shallow water on both sides of the dock where Duke and his party stood, crystal-clear icicles, thick as a troll's arm, shot up from the shallow water, the tallest reaching over thirty feet into the sky. These weren't just crude ice pillars; they were hollow, impossibly delicate tubes, more finely crafted than any glassblower's masterpiece, shimmering with a transparency that made the finest Dalaran crystal look like mud.

The sudden appearance of so many shimmering tubes on the beach near the dock not only drew the wide-eyed attention of the high elves who were still lining up, but also completely stunned all the human defenders at the dock.

What in the blazes is this?!

Not to mention the kings and generals, even the elves who had lived for countless years and thought they had seen it all couldn't tell what this bizarre contraption was.

Percussion? An organ? It seemed like neither.

Duke shot Alleria a grin that promised the moon and stars, then, with a flourish so dramatic it could have been ripped from a bard's epic, he raised his left hand and snapped his fingers. CRACK! Twenty-eight spectral wizard hands, glowing with a soft, ethereal light, materialized in two neat rows beside the towering ice pipes. Each ghostly digit hovered, poised like a maestro's orchestra, ready to strike a chord.

The next second, the performance began.

With a resounding THWACK! a team of spectral hands struck the third ice pipe on the left. The pipe shrieked, then rocketed skyward, exploding like a celestial silver bottle. A shower of countless ice crystals, forged from seawater, burst forth in the sunlight, painting the sky with a dazzling, ephemeral fireworks display. Alleria's exquisitely sensitive ears twitched. Was that… a faint, ethereal 'Mee' she heard? She shook her head, dismissing it as a trick of the light. But as more spectral mages 'plucked' the strings of an invisible guitar, making ice pipes explode in a cascade of shimmering dust, not only did the pulverized ice crystals form a breathtaking, seven-color rainbow arching across the sky, but a full, unmistakable melody began to swell, washing over the dock.

This song, spanning endless time and space, crossing civilizations and worlds, was Beethoven's classic "Ode to Joy," presented in the most magical form imaginable by Duke. The sheer joy, excitement, and ecstasy embedded in the song were clearly conveyed to the ears of everyone present, hitting them like a ton of bricks.

Most human soldiers were rough and uncouth, and they just instinctively thought, Hey, this tune sounds pretty nice and cheerful!

But high-ranking nobles and kings? They knew exactly what they were hearing.

Of course, the most discerning of the bunch were the high elves, who had spent thousands of years in boredom, immersing themselves in music and art whenever they had nothing better to do. Most high elves were self-proclaimed nobles, looking down their long noses at the young, short-lived human race, considering them crude and barely better than those "barbaric" orcs.

Duke had just dropped a bombshell on their preconceived notions, shattering them like cheap Dalaran glass. It wasn't just that Duke possessed an incredible talent for songwriting in their eyes. It was Duke's extraordinary control over the magical elements.

Most of the high elves who served as rangers didn't have much talent for magic, but that didn't mean they lacked vision. Their long years had endowed them with unparalleled experience and insight. They could tell at a glance that while Duke's overall mage level might not be the highest, his terrifyingly superb magic control wasn't just good; it was on par with, if not surpassing, most members of the Silvermoon Council. These were the elves who practically invented magic, for crying out loud!

The rank of a member of the Silvermoon Council? That represented the absolute pinnacle of high elven magical civilization. It was no exaggeration to say they were the group of people standing at the very top of the magic field in the entire world. This was quite a high evaluation indeed.

Watching Duke swinging his hands lightly like a conductor, pretending to be, but actually not quite in rhythm, to "conduct" the spectral mage hands to play the music without a single error, the three Windrunner sisters present were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: part annoyance, part grudging amusement, and a healthy dose of "what the blazes is this human doing?"

However, the three sisters, who saw through Duke's showmanship like a transparent illusion, chalked it up to a minor misstep in a multi-spell performance. After all, even the most seasoned Archmage couldn't juggle that many arcane plates without a few wobbling.

"Oh, so he is Duke Edmund," Lilas whispered to herself calmly, a hint of understanding in her voice.

Sylvanas whispered with a mischievous smile, "You're such a little firecracker, always full of surprises. No wonder I'm so utterly, irrevocably fond of you, I'm willing to…"

"Enough!" Alleria interrupted Sylvanas, a sharp edge to her voice.

Without a care for the gaping jaws around them, the formidable Ranger General Alleria, looking utterly pleased with herself, strode over in full view of everyone and planted a passionate kiss… right on Duke's forehead. "Duke, you magnificent bastard—" she purred, pulling back.

Duke stood there, utterly bewildered, a deer in the headlights. What in the name of the Light just happened?! He wanted to scream, "What the hell was THAT?!"