Nuclear

Because, let's be real, the blue dragons were already having a rough go of it, practically on the endangered species list. If the King of Blue Dragons ever got wind of Antonidas's little soul-snatching escapade, the Grand Magus would be in hotter water than a murloc in a boiling pot, facing a wrath that would make the Burning Legion look like a boy band.

Duke, ever the picture of solemnity when it suited him, nodded gravely. "You want to fuse the Phoenix Flame and Icecrown, two top-tier arcane circuits? Not impossible, but you're signing up for a path a hundred times tougher than mine. You'll need not just four spirits of ice and fire, but your arcane circuit will demand strengthening with six additional rare spirits to truly ascend to the heights of an Grand Magus."

Duke merely curled his lip, saying nothing. He was still clutching the legendary Guardian Staff of Atiesh, or at least, its formidable head. If he had to go through that again in this lifetime, chasing down forty-one scattered fragments of a sacred staff… well, let's just say collecting a few elemental spirits, with clear directions and even substitutes available, was a walk in the park by comparison. Of course, a tiny part of Duke still harbored a smidgen of envy for Medivh. That guy, becoming a demigod-level mage and a third-level Archmage with practically zero effort? Clearly, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, courtesy of a very good mother.

Who was Aegwynn, you ask? Only the former Guardian of Tirisfal, a powerhouse who spent her days trading blows with demons alongside four-color dragons! Antonidas was sweating bullets over one measly Blue Dragon King, but if Aegwynn wanted a dragon's soul, those big, scaly beasts would probably just roll over and offer it up on a platter. The Blue Dragon King would likely volunteer for ritualistic suicide just to hand over his essence. Whether they liked it or not was entirely beside the point.

Seeing Duke remain utterly unfazed, Antonidas felt a sudden, crushing wave of existential dread. He was getting old, wasn't he? Like a dusty old tome on a forgotten shelf. But business was business. Duke had just pulled his chestnuts out of the fire, saving Dalaran from a reputation hit that would have lasted a thousand years. This favor had to be repaid, no two ways about it. Antonidas pressed on, his voice a weary sigh. "Perhaps your path is the most promising. Since you've chosen it, I won't stand in your way. However, the magic circuit I'm about to bestow upon you… it's still a bit of an open book to outsiders. You'll need to put on a good show."

Duke's eyes lit up, a predatory gleam in them. "Oh, I get it! I'll send Dalaran ten thousand top-quality magic books!" Antonidas's eyes rolled so hard they almost popped out of his head. Top-quality, my foot! He knew Duke's game. It was just another one of his shenanigans, peddling those glorified spell-scribbles, passing off cheap parchment as priceless artifacts. The old Speaker's patience was wearing thinner than a goblin's wallet. "Don't push your luck, young man," he grumbled. "Alright, alright," Duke conceded, upping the ante with a smirk. "One hundred master-level tomes, and ten Archmage-level ones." "Publicly announce that among the ten thousand books, there are a thousand master-level and a hundred Archmage-level magic books," Antonidas countered, his voice a low growl. And just like that, the two old dogs, one grey-muzzled and the other deceptively young, struck a deal worthy of the shadiest back alley in Gadgetzan.

"Very well, this Arcane Light magic circuit model is yours." As Antonidas magically transmitted the model to Duke, Duke wasn't surprised by the sheer wonder of the arcane schematics. Instead, a system prompt, chirpy and annoyingly cheerful, popped into his mind:

"Congratulations, host! Antonidas has voluntarily entrusted you with the top-level arcane magic circuit: Arcane Throne, with an 82% completion rate!"

Duke's eyebrow twitched. Arcane Throne? He thought about his other circuit, the Icecrown, and a wave of pure, unadulterated annoyance washed over him. He finally understood why Antonidas had become such a crusty old coot in his golden years. The old wizard actually thought of himself as the King of Magic! Well, whatever. Duke was basically pulling a fast one on Dalaran anyway… so he decided to quietly make a killing.

The 'Strongest King System of the System Elves' wasn't exactly a master of creation from scratch, but it was an absolute wizard at correction and error-checking. Back in Dalaran's swanky state guesthouse, with a basic model to work from, the system ran through thousands of simulations on its own. In just one night, Duke had a perfect, polished version of the Arcane Throne circuit. Duke decided to push his luck right there in Dalaran. The most critical part, the raw energy absorption, he'd already handled back in Karazhan. Now, it was all about the fine-tuning, the little tweaks and adjustments that were no big deal in the magical haven of Dalaran.

But the complete, perfected version? That was a whole different ballgame. The moment Duke embedded the Arcane Throne, a circuit two sizes too big for his current setup, into the Phoenix Flame and Icecrown, the combination of one massive and two smaller circuits hit him with a mental shockwave that nearly knocked him on his backside. His ears buzzed like a swarm of angry wasps, and his vision blurred for a split second. But through the haze, Duke was absolutely, unequivocally certain: he felt the very fabric of the laws and principles of the cosmos, stretching between heaven and earth. He himself barely registered what was happening.

The instant he integrated the Arcane Throne, an incredibly mysterious and complex knowledge of magical operation flooded back from the three circuits, a torrent of pure understanding. In that fleeting, thousandth of a second, he seemed to grasp the true meaning of 'Master,' a concept that had always been just beyond his reach. It was as if, in that moment, he shed his very humanity.

No longer merely human.

He was a sun, blazing with incandescent light, a true, shining star. The raw magical energy that erupted from Duke's body instantly blasted outwards, a hurricane unleashed by a jet engine, effortlessly sweeping away everything in the room. Windows shattered, the door blew off its hinges, and Gavinrad and Windsor, who had been standing guard outside, nearly jumped out of their armor. They peered through the gaping doorway, taking advantage of a momentary lull in the arcane storm. Duke lifted his head, meeting their stunned gaze.

To their utter astonishment, Duke's eyes were no longer the deep, familiar black. Within those small, dark pupils, countless mysterious magic circles swirled and danced, constantly shifting and combining, as if mirroring the intricate, formal calibration of the three magical circuits within his very being. Duke's vision had also transformed entirely. He no longer saw the mundane decorations of the room, his two powerful Paladin bodyguards, the solid earth, or the endless sky. Instead, he saw a world teeming with pure energy, devoid of any physical form, just raw power. The Violet Fortress, a high concentration of energy.

Antonidas's laboratory, an even higher level of energy. And the Dalaran sky, its energy slightly thinner than theirs. The vast sky and the sprawling land all paled in comparison to the blinding brilliance of the new star that was Duke.

Duke gently closed his eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. Every breath he took brought about miraculous changes within his body. The hot air rushing into his lungs was instantly absorbed by his alveoli. All the oxygen, every last molecule, was integrated into his bloodstream and swiftly transported to the magic circuit that now existed within him in a two-dimensional, ethereal form. It became pure magical nutrient, stimulating the arcane power within the circuit to fission at an astonishing speed, providing Duke with all the raw magical energy he needed to cast spells, and then some.

Duke let out a soft, bitter chuckle. No wonder the Archmage and the Master Mage ranks represented such a monumental watershed in the world of mages. This wasn't just a promotion; it was like an ordinary magic apprentice suddenly becoming a full-fledged, spell-slinging Archmage overnight. Before, Archmages and lesser mages had to constantly draw energy from the outside world to fuel their spellcasting.

But a Master? A Master possessed a truly unique, self-sustaining magical wellspring. They could absorb from the outside world, yes, but they could also create their own power. To put it simply, from the perspective of a time-traveler like Duke, it was the difference between a conventional warship, constantly needing to resupply its fuel, and a magical, self-powered dreadnought, a perpetual motion machine of pure arcane might. No more energy worries. Ever.