Prologue: The Whim of Fate

Magna Aegwynn, the former Guardian of Tirisfal, mother of the great Magus Medivh, and once the most powerful woman in the world, sat in a chair by the fire, sipping a cup of coffee. Her trembling hands clutched the cup, seeking its warmth, while her long, loose hair, white as freshly fallen snow, rested on her shoulders. She looked up as Jaina approached with slow, measured steps.

She observed the young woman as she took a seat in the chair across from her. Nothing could escape those deep, wise, emerald-green eyes that missed no detail. However, more than knowledge, all it took was remembering the faces of the people after the Third War. No, perhaps it would be better to recall the gaze of the surviving generals from the last demonic invasion.

"You're thinking about him."

Jaina frowned and stared at the fire intently, seeking distraction in the dancing flames. Even with the cold, a drink would be enough to cool her throat.

"I didn't know that among your abilities as a Guardian was the power to read minds. Would you like to give me a medical check-up?"

"Read minds? It's your expression and posture that I can read like a book, child. That deep crease on your forehead appears when he occupies your thoughts; the zigzagging one belongs to someone else. Besides, the same thing always happens to you when the weather changes."

Jaina shivered.

"Am I really that transparent?"

Aegwynn's sharp features softened as she gently patted Jaina's hand.

"Well, I've spent a thousand years perfecting the art of observation. So, I'm much better at deducing what people are thinking than most. Just as I can recall faces from only minutes ago."

Jaina let out a sigh.

"It's true. When it gets this cold, I think of him. I think of what happened. Of whether I could have… whether we could have done something. I think that if I had stayed…"

Now it was Aegwynn who sighed.

"I don't think I've ever truly regretted anything in a thousand years, as my attention has always been focused on many other concerns. Yes, I made mistakes, but they are just that—things of the past. But if it brings you any comfort, I must admit that… I have thought of him too."

Jaina blinked, surprised and somewhat uncomfortable at the comment.

"Have you been thinking about Hachiman?"

The former Guardian fixed her piercing gaze on her. She hesitated before answering and let out a weary sigh.

"No, about the Lich King. Remember, he is no longer himself."

"You didn't have to remind me," Jaina reproached with a deep sense of disappointment. "Why…? Why did you think of him?"

"Can't you feel it, young queen?"

"It's colder than usual."

Slowly, Jaina massaged her temples. She had tried to blame her mood on the bad weather and the tensions that always reached their peak when the humidity was high, and the climate turned so unpleasant, as well as the recent conversations with the orc faction and the night elves. But Aegwynn had just suggested that there was something more, and Jaina Proudmoore, thirty years old, ruler of an island on the edge of a newly discovered continent, knew that the old woman was right.

Old woman, she thought, and a fleeting smile crossed her lips as those words ran through her mind. She herself had left her youth behind long ago—a youth in which Hikigaya Hachiman had helped bring her together with Arthas Menethil. A youth where she had played a significant role, yet not enough to see him today.

"There is a limit to everything, and the shackles of the soul are not infinite; it seems that the North must soon be visited."

Aegwynn released her presumption of the icy danger that awaited.

"Arthas is doing everything he can with the help of the orcs and the night elves. Though Sylvanas' and Kael'thas' high elves do not aid us on the same front, we are getting closer to ending this nightmare. By the Light, we just need a miracle—if only the other races would appear."

At that moment, a murloc clad in silver armor appeared, carrying hot tea and freshly baked cookies. Jaina gratefully accepted the cup of tea. After delivering the treats, the murloc silently withdrew.

"I never get tired of watching them. They are calmer than any human servant."

"I have already told you everything I know. I don't understand why you want more information."

"No," Aegwynn replied. "You have told me the events that transpired, but I want you to talk to me about him. About Hikigaya Hachiman. Because, while I may not know what exactly is happening in that frozen land, I do know for certain that something is going on, and it is related to him—not the Lich King. At least, not yet. Besides..."

The old woman smiled openly, and the jovial sparkle in her emerald eyes momentarily eclipsed the wrinkles that lined her face.

"What's so amusing to you?"

"It's a cold and rainy day. Stories were made to be told on days like these."

"He's not one of my children for you to say that to me. Even in drunkenness, he wouldn't say such strange lines."

"Young lady, age comes with the days."

"Days I cannot afford to let pass. Only a miracle will be able to bring about a happy ending… isn't that right, Hachiman?"

"Perhaps it is possible. He came as one—he is the miracle itself, isn't that right, Aspect of the Red Dragon?"

"What?"

Jaina hesitated at her companion's statement. She hadn't sensed the presence of anyone else. Even if it were an Aspect, she should have noticed.

"Someone has been eavesdropping. You never change, Alexstrasza."

"I simply didn't want to interrupt."

In front of them, a red-haired human with her hair tied back in a ponytail waved her hands and smiled. Atop her head, an ornament resembling beautifully decorated horns adorned her. Her garments, beyond their brilliance and incalculable value, could easily make her look like an exotic dancer.

"Jaina Menethil, the time has come. Inform the entire Council of Lordaeron that the spell is ready—we will free the exhausted soul of the hero of the Red Flight."

Jaina only reacted to the redhead's faint smile. Her mind snapped back to reality, and with quick steps, she hurried into the castle corridors.

"So then, Alexstrasza, why have you really come? I doubt a message like this needed to be delivered face-to-face."

"Unlike you, I can fix my mistakes, Aegwynn."

"So it was your fault. Now I understand your obsession with helping him better. Did you finally feel remorse for the first time in your ancient life?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen. While observing the timelines during a visit to the Bronze Flight… something simply happened, and everything was altered. The information was too much, too difficult to comprehend. By the time we tried to intervene, all we could do was protect this world from the Legion's arrival."

"What an interesting story. You can share all the details—I have all the time in the world."

"Unlike you, who never warned us about Medivh and underestimated him, which ended up accelerating too many events, I am taking responsibility for saving a soul that was never meant to be here."

"Would you say the same to his wife and children? How touching… Offering help after almost four years is quite an achievement for a dragon."

"What?"

The former Guardian let out a hearty laugh at the stunned expression of the Queen of the Red Dragonflight. The outline of her face bore the unmistakable mark of victory.

"So it's true—you can't perceive their flow. Even if they are half-elves, that only makes it more amusing. A fascinating discovery, just like seeing you in a form so underappreciated by your own kind."

Shaken from her initial stupor, Alexstrasza smiled sadly. A memory surfaced—a letter addressed to her.

"I made the mistake of offending the lesser races with my whims. I learned from it. I cannot call myself the Guardian of Life if I only favor the appearance of a select few."

"A little late for that, don't you think?"

"Better late than never."

Meanwhile, in the distance, the Lich King opened his eyes to his new kingdom.

Ah, Strahnbrad. A place as picturesque as the culmination of any isekai light novel reader's wildest dreams. Imagine a town so forgotten by the light of divine grace that even bandits take pity on it—perfect as a starting zone in an MMORPG.

Here, in this remote corner of the Kingdom of Lordaeron, the life of a peasant is as thrilling as watching grass grow. And yes, I mean that literally—because here, the grass is probably the most interesting thing around.

There isn't much trade, and with so little technological advancement, I should become a wealthy tycoon in no time with my revolutionary ideas. Yes, it's a big if—but a future yes nonetheless.

My day begins with the crowing of a few roosters—the only creatures in this town that seem to have any enthusiasm for life. As I rise from my straw pallet, which has more lumps than my future, I wonder if today will be another glorious day of tilling the land until my hands turn into claws, or if I might get the chance to hunt one of the few edible animals roaming around.

Ah, agriculture—that noble pastime that consists of battling the earth just to get something to eat. If only I had the ability to maximize it to its fullest, perhaps fantastical beings would come seek refuge with me. How poetic.

Did you know that hardship drives human progress? Well, no more plus ultra, because the work possible for a person here is vastly different from how it should be. This version of humanity, so to speak, far surpasses what I remember. That explains why they live in a status quo of complacency and laziness when it comes to development.

As part of this cultural ritual, I have breakfast—a loaf of bread so hard it could be used as a weapon, yet I devour it with ease. In fact, I'm fairly certain that if I threw it with enough force, like a warhammer, I could bring down a young tree. But no, here we are, eating bread that seems to have been baked in the depths of the Underworld. I won't deny that there are other varieties, like slow-baked ones, but they aren't the most popular—and that is a capital sin.

Then, I head to the fields, where my fellow peasants are already working. We greet each other with a simple nod, because really, why waste energy on words when life has already stolen your soul?

Working in the fields is so repetitive that even the rocks get bored. I dig, plant, water, and then repeat the process until the sun decides it's had enough of me and hides behind the mountains. As I work, I can't help but think about how my life is as exciting as a rock. But hey, at least rocks don't have to worry about taxes, bandits, or the next plague sweeping through the kingdom. Maybe fortune never really abandoned me after that car accident—the reason I'm apparently an orphan of the Second War or something like that.

Speaking of bandits, they sometimes show up to "collect" additional taxes. Yes, because the king's demands aren't enough, we also have to deal with these guys who think they're the tragic heroes of some sad story. But what can I do? I'm a farmer, not a paladin clad in shining armor with a sense of honor bigger than his ego. So, I just hand over what little I have and watch as they take it away.

Why don't I fight back with a bow or some arcane magic? Because I'm not the protagonist of a generic light novel or some mass-produced manga template. Who's to say my next life isn't just another chance to entertain some god from another dimension?

As I was saying… Ah, life in Strahnbrad—a true paradise.

At the end of the day, I return to my cabin, which smells of dampness and despair. I eat another serving of hard bread and whatever vegetable I managed to save from the bandits. Then I lie down on my straw mattress, staring at the ceiling and wondering if my life will ever change. Spoiler: it won't. But hey, at least I have my health… well, more or less.

Such is life in Strahnbrad, a place where dreams come to die and hopes fade faster than the evening light. But who needs dreams when you have a field to plow and bread that could break your teeth? Ah, the life of a farmer. What a wonder.

Oh, right, I almost forgot the most interesting part: the murlocs. Those ridiculously noisy creatures that look like a cross between a toad and a fish that someone left out in the sun for too long. When I moved to this cabin near the river, I did it thinking about tranquility. Yeah, great idea. Nothing like the soothing sound of flowing water and the guttural screams of "mrglmrglmrgl" at three in the morning. Perfect for resting on my imaginary journey of "laziness."

At first, I hated them. Not just because they're ugly (and believe me, they are), but because they seem to have an innate talent for ruining any moment of peace. But over time, I started watching them. Not out of scientific curiosity or anything like that, but because I had nothing better to do on the days I wasn't working the fields. And, surprisingly, I discovered that they're not so different from humans. Well, except for the fact that they smell like rotten fish and have an unhealthy obsession with seaweed.

The curious thing was noticing that the young murlocs are... well, less stupid than the adults. Or maybe it's just that they haven't developed that killer instinct that makes them attack anything that moves. One day, while watching a group of younglings playing near the shore, a ridiculous idea occurred to me: what if I could train them? I don't know, something like domesticate dogs, but with creatures that would probably bite your hand off if you offered them food. I don't want to offend cats, but it's the best example of a domesticated/dependent animal… except Kamakura.

Over time, I managed to get a small group of young murlocs to obey me. Not that they stopped being chaotic and noisy creatures, but at least they no longer attacked humans who came near the river. In fact, they even seemed to protect the area. Sure, don't expect them to be like those guard dogs that save children from wells. More like... well, like murlocs, but less murderous.

This action brought me a series of curious stares of all kinds. By all kinds, I mean all kinds. Literally, Bigfoot appeared right in front of me… well, actually, it was a sort of giant bipedal creature that spoke to me in a barely understandable language. In its rough dialect, it asked me about the lack of murloc activity in the area. I'm thankful to be an avid reader of various scenarios because if I hadn't been, I would have run off at the slightest opportunity.

"This is the closest to a social life I've had in years. How depressing."
Yes, I would still be in high school. Komachi, how are you over there?

"Fighting for a town that's probably doomed... What a waste of energy. But... I guess it's not so bad to try."
While it's not an idea I like, as long as this place exists, I still have something that evokes the feeling of home. I have no idea how to go back. I'm also unable to believe in the endless possibilities of magic in this world. Ah, I hope I'm not summoning a disaster of giant proportions...

"Hachiman! Long time no see! I thought you'd turned into a statue since the last time I saw you."
Ah, here she comes. She hasn't even waited for the sun's first rays and has already stolen my perfect seat to lie down and do nothing.

"Ah, Sally, daughter of the merchants. Are you here to sell me something I don't need? Or maybe to tell me about your exciting adventures out there?"
"No, not this time. I just wanted to greet you. Also, they're not 'exciting adventures,' they're business trips. Though... I guess they're a bit more interesting than staying here all day."
"Yes, everything is more interesting outside than here. But my bed is here, so thanks for the offer, but I won't be joining anything."
Ah, is there even a chance to talk to a renowned mage about this desire to go to another world without becoming some small animal?

PD: HELLO HELL YEAH XD