"Ding! Detected that the host has named the new hero unit."
...
Huh? What's going on? What naming? What happened? What the heck?
Just as Galen was bombarding himself with these questions, the newly arrived Archmage gracefully descended from the Altar of Kings. He strode forward with an air of quiet dignity, leaned upon his staff for support, knelt on one knee, and gazed upwards, his voice resonant and clear.
"Master Mage Gandalf at your service."
Oh, ho! Galen thought, a slow smile spreading across his face. So, the Archmage has been named Gandalf by me. Gandalf... the one with a staff in his left hand and a long sword in his right, who charged into the orcish hordes seven times and emerged unscathed. A melee mage!
"My Lord," Gandalf said, his voice carrying a hint of polite concern, "I must confess, I possess no skill in martial arts, nor am I proficient in the use of a sword." The Archmage remained kneeling, his posture unwavering.
Huh? Galen thought, his mental brow furrowing. How does he know I was just pondering his swordsmanship? And isn't it rather tiring to crane his neck so high? Rise, my friend, rise. What are you still kneeling for?
As if in direct response to his unspoken request, Gandalf immediately stood, stretching his neck with a subtle, almost relieved, movement.
"Thank you, My Lord," he said, his voice sincere.
Galen felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. Can the Archmage truly perceive my thoughts?
"Indeed, My Lord," Gandalf confirmed, his gaze steady. "Your mental energy permeates the very air above this land, and I am able to sense the thoughts that emanate from your consciousness."
Then why is it that I've been mentally observing the base for nearly half a month, issuing instructions to its inhabitants, yet they remain oblivious to my thoughts, unlike you? Galen wondered, his curiosity piqued.
"Their strength is insufficient to perceive such subtle emanations," Gandalf explained patiently. "My Lord, you have not yet learned to fully control your mental power. You need only focus your will, direct your mental energy, and connect it directly to them. Then, they will be able to communicate with you, much as I do now."
Perhaps refrain from addressing me as 'My Lord', Galen thought, a touch of informality entering his mental voice. Galen will suffice. Or, if you must, 'Prince' would also be acceptable.
Thinking this, Galen consciously attempted to gather his stray thoughts, to focus his mental energy into a more concentrated beam.
During this process, a whimsical idea struck Galen. When the first Peasant, Cliff, had been created, he had provided Galen with rudimentary information about the Town Hall. I wonder if this first hero, imbued with greater awareness, can offer any more... illuminating insights?
Upon inquiry, Galen discovered that Gandalf's knowledge extended far beyond that of the simple Peasant.
According to the Archmage, his memories were fragmented and dreamlike. He recalled, from a distant, almost forgotten past, that he had been a powerful magician, possessing abilities that transcended the mortal realm. He could traverse the very fabric of the void, his power dwarfing even that of the mightiest heroes.
But then, his memories shifted, becoming clouded and nightmarish. He was pursued by a terrifying, indescribable horror that dwelt within the void, an entity so malevolent that its mere presence threatened to unravel reality itself. In that desperate flight, he perished.
Yet, even in death, his soul did not dissipate. Instead, it drifted aimlessly through the endless expanse of the void. During this ethereal wandering, his soul began to fracture, and with each fragment, his memories slipped away. Eventually, only his profound arcane knowledge remained intact, the rest of his identity lost to the cosmic abyss.
Just as his last remaining spark of consciousness was about to be extinguished, a radiant beam of light enveloped him, drawing him towards this nascent world. He was absorbed into the Altar of Kings, his shattered soul gradually mended by the potent energies that flowed within. He was also imbued with knowledge of the Origin Heart base, its purpose, and its functions. Finally, in the preceding days, his physical form was miraculously restored.
The Origin Heart, Gandalf explained, had granted him a higher level of authority than the base's other units, enabling him to command all those trained within its walls. He was also instilled with an unwavering loyalty to the host, Galen.
In addition to his vast arcane knowledge, Gandalf found himself gifted with four innate abilities: Blizzard, Summon Water Elemental, Brilliance Aura, and the power of Mass Teleportation.
His original, god-like power, however, was gone, dispersed into the void. His current strength as a Master Archmage was a gift from the Origin Heart, scaled to Galen's own potential. He would require time to consolidate this newfound power before he could hope to advance further.
Finally, Galen learned that he could share the map scanned by the base with Gandalf through their mental connection, enabling long-range command operations with unparalleled efficiency.
Galen had always known that the Origin Heart was a remarkable artifact, but its true potential, its sheer, awe-inspiring power, was only now beginning to dawn on him.
Plucking souls from the void, instilling memories, and reshaping bodies – all accomplished with effortless grace and understated power.
The power of the Origin Heart is truly terrifying, Galen thought, a sense of wonder and trepidation mingling within him.
After his enlightening conversation with Gandalf, Galen directed his mental focus towards the Altar of Kings. He noted that the portrait of the Paladin had turned a dull gray. Attempting to summon the holy warrior, he received a mental prompt: the Town Hall needed to be upgraded to a Level 2 Main City before another hero could be summoned.
He then shifted his attention to the Town Hall, seeking the instructions for this upgrade.
Upgrade to Level 2 Main City
Requirements: Unit Gold
Unit Wood
Upgrade the main city to unlock more buildings and units.
Currently unavailable, requires the base population to reach 10,000 population units.
The final, disheartening sentence – "currently unavailable" – washed over Galen like a bucket of icy water.
However, a quick calculation offered a glimmer of hope. Galen knew that the Town Hall could train one Peasant per hour if kept running continuously. At that rate, reaching the 10,000-population threshold would take over 400 days.
Adding the combat units trained by the Barracks would nearly halve that timeframe. And if Galen were to construct a second, or even a third and fourth Barracks within the next few days, the 10,000-population mark could be achieved within a few months.
Seeing that there were no immediate pressing matters within the base, Galen added a few more farms to the construction queue, filled the training sequences of the Town Hall and Barracks, and prepared to withdraw his mental presence from the Origin Heart.
Then, a sudden thought struck him. He re-established his mental link with Gandalf, instructing him to reorganize the hundreds of combat units stationed at the base, establish efficient patrol routes, and generally oversee the base's defense. With that, he finally disconnected from the Origin Core.
The next few days passed with a leisurely rhythm for Galen. Each morning, he would join his father for morning exercises and a shared breakfast. The afternoons were spent exploring the vast collection of tomes within the Tower of Arathor, immersing himself in the kingdom's accumulated knowledge. In the evenings, he would reconnect with the Origin Heart, checking on the base's progress and exchanging updates with Gandalf.
Then, on the fifth day, a visitor arrived, breaking the routine.
The visitor was Fardel Dabyrie, the youngest son of the influential Earl Dabyrie. Galen had encountered him on several occasions at royal banquets and social gatherings.
The Dabyrie family held immense wealth and power. They owned the largest farm in the northern Arathi Highlands, and their Northford Farm in the northwest, along with the Gesharak Farm on the southeastern border, were collectively known as the "three granaries" of Stromgarde, providing the kingdom with a stable and abundant food supply.
This made the Dabyrie family incredibly prosperous. Their annual profits from exporting grain to the resource-poor Ironforge only served to further augment their already considerable power. In addition to their vast agricultural holdings, the Dabyrie family also possessed a substantial fiefdom in the northern mountains.
However, Fardel was the second son in the family. His elder brother, Marcel Dabyrie, displayed a keener aptitude for business and administration. Consequently, their mother, Countess Konata Dabyrie, favored Marcel, intending to entrust him with the management of the family's vast holdings.
This left Fardel in a precarious position. His elder brother's superior talents overshadowed his own, and his parents had essentially designated Marcel as the sole heir. Fardel faced the grim prospect of being granted a meager portion of the family wealth or a small, insignificant plot of land to sustain himself, potentially relegating him to the status of a commoner – a fate he found utterly unacceptable.
Fardel possessed a degree of talent among the younger generation of Stromgarde's nobility. Influenced by the kingdom's martial culture, he had served in the militia for a time, forging some connections with Omar and Varokal.
But ultimately, he was the pampered son of a noble house, accustomed to a life of comfort and ease. He lacked the resilience to endure prolonged hardship and had withdrawn from the militia relatively early in his service.
However, the realization that he would not inherit the family's fiefdom had triggered a renewed sense of urgency. He had returned to his martial training with renewed vigor, determined to prove his worth. This year, at the age of eighteen, he had finally managed to reach the peak of the sixth tier, barely touching the threshold of a master warrior.
His unexpected arrival both surprised and secretly pleased Galen.
The reason he had instructed Omar and Varokal to spread the news of his impending command was precisely to attract the attention of ambitious nobles like Fardel.