Creating the arcane circuit just now had consumed most of Duke's energy, leaving him feeling like a deflated balloon after a very enthusiastic party. He wanted to take a break, to collapse onto a very soft, very non-flammable couch, but he couldn't give up. Oh no, not now.
This was a one-time, all-or-nothing attack. If they failed this time, if this arcane rollercoaster derailed, they didn't know how much it would cost, how much painful, soul-shredding torture they would have to endure before they could attack again. It was now or never.
He gritted his teeth, a grim determination setting his jaw. He had to go for it!
At that moment, the magic power gushing out from the newly formed arcane circuit was like a gushing oil well, but instead of crude oil, it was pure, raw, volatile magic. Every single drop of power that gushed out was instantly ignited, transforming into furious, crackling fire elements, a miniature sun being born within his very core.
Duke, in his arcane ecstasy, was blissfully unaware that at this very moment, he was also causing great, catastrophic trouble to the old man, who was now looking less like a wise librarian and more like a very stressed, very singed chicken.
The fire elements emanating from Duke's body seemed to have brought all the flames of Stormwind City, every single candle, every single fireplace, and condensed them into the small, increasingly flammable room. There were so many fire elements swirling and raging in the room that they ignited almost all the combustible materials in the room. The curtains spontaneously combusted. The wooden chair Duke was sitting on burst into flames. The coffee table became a roaring inferno. Even the very walls began to smolder ominously.
Unable to withstand the sheer, unholy high temperature and the immense pressure of the raging fire element, all the glass windows in the room exploded instantly, shattering outward with a deafening CRASH! Huge, roaring tongues of fire first shot into the air, like fiery dragons escaping a cage, and then countless fire elements seemed to turn into liquid, pouring down from the windows. There were as many waterfalls of fire as there were windows, each one a cascading torrent of pure, destructive heat.
The flame waterfall was like a living, breathing body of water, but made of pure inferno. It hit the grass in the yard, instantly turning all the lush green into charred, smoking charcoal, and a large amount of fire elements exploded, forming huge, aerosol-like fireballs that billowed outward. The fireballs exploded immediately after hitting solid obstacles, splashing countless flame arrows in all directions of the yard, turning everything into a fiery, chaotic mess.
"Ah--!" Anya, who was waiting outside the yard with Daniel, screamed, a high-pitched shriek of pure terror.
The moment the window exploded, Daniel, with surprising speed, grabbed her, pulled her along, and ran away, his massive legs pumping like pistons.
The torrent of flames, which was more than a person's height, a literal wall of fire, almost burned their buttocks, leaving them with a distinct, fiery memory. Daniel was so scared that he ran to two houses away without looking back, a blur of panicked muscle, and only stopped behind a wizard's laboratory that, thankfully, possessed a very sturdy magic protective shield. He then promptly collapsed, gasping like a beached whale.
The flames filled all around old man Norton's laboratory, consuming everything in their path, and spread over all the big trees in the yard, turning them into skeletal, burning effigies. Accompanied by the "beep" sound of burning wood (or perhaps Norton's internal alarm system) and the "crack" sound of big trees falling down with a thunderous crash, old man Norton's entire yard was utterly, gloriously, completely finished. It looked like a dragon had sneezed on it.
The four courtyards of other mages in front, behind, left, and right were all drawn into this vortex of destruction, their carefully cultivated magical gardens becoming impromptu bonfires.
The only thing to be thankful for, a tiny silver lining in this inferno of chaos, was that this was the experimental area in the college.
Most mages, after all, were little princes (and princesses) who were constantly courting death with their explosive experiments.
The academy, with centuries of experience in dealing with arcane mishaps, had already prepared contingency plans for the mages' inevitable, spectacular explosive experiments.
Only the courtyard was affected. Once the fire wave touched the building, a brilliant magical light immediately lit up, a shimmering shield of pure energy. The magic shield on the building took effect, humming with protective power.
They resisted the impact of the fire waves very well, so the blazing waves could only continue to advance through the gaps between the buildings, like a very angry, very hot toothpaste being squeezed, carrying with them a large amount of charred wood chips, scorched soil, and other fiery debris.
This was a bit like squeezing toothpaste. The original range of the sea of fire was only a few dozen meters, a contained inferno, but under the relentless squeezing, the wall of fire continued to advance hundreds of meters in all directions before it finally, dramatically, stopped, leaving a trail of smoking devastation.
All the mages and apprentices in the entire Royal School of Magic were alarmed! Their tea breaks were ruined! Their experiments interrupted! Their napping schedules utterly destroyed!
"Who the hell is getting promoted with such a bang!?" a voice shrieked, laced with outrage.
"Such an exaggerated fluctuation of magic power! Is it Khadgar?! Did he finally lose his mind?!" another cried, peering through a smoky window.
"No, it's not him. That's... that old guy Norton's laboratory, isn't it?!" a third exclaimed, pointing a trembling finger.
"Could it be... could it be that new kid, Duke?!" a fourth whispered, a dawning horror in their voice.
Daniel and the other two were blissfully unaware of what others were saying. Still in shock, their faces smeared with soot, they stared at the experimental area that had completely changed around them, their mouths wide open, unable to utter a single, coherent word. It looked like a very expensive, very magical bomb had gone off.
All the roads and streets had turned charred black, with gray-black coke fragments blowing everywhere like morbid confetti, and many noble stone statues on the main road in the experimental area were half-blackened by smoke, looking like very grumpy, very sooty gargoyles.
"Duke... did this?" Anya whispered, her voice barely a squeak, still in shock, her eyes wide as saucers.
"Well, I think so!" Daniel replied, not entirely sure, but the evidence was rather compelling. He then promptly sneezed, sending a cloud of ash into the air.
As the person involved, Duke's work on shaping the magic circuit was still continuing, utterly oblivious to the fiery chaos he was unleashing upon the academy.
He only felt a loud "boom" in his mind, as if a huge and hot force exploded from an area in his spiritual sea that had never been touched by his consciousness. It was like a cosmic dynamite blast, clearing out mental real estate.
Just like blowing up a mountain, the fire power, utterly dissatisfied with the small, cramped size of Duke's spiritual sea, directly opened up a vast, new space in Duke's spiritual world, a fiery, expanding void.
The flames exploded, and countless exploding fireballs were actually wrapped with a large number of fiery red mental power lines representing flames, which shot out from the gaps in the arcane circuit, like tiny, furious, self-aware rockets.
Just like a proud emperor who ordered his messenger to ride in a circle, wherever the horse went was the scope of his territory, claiming land with every hoofbeat. The same was true for the thin line of flame mental power. It actually tried to make a circle larger than the arcane circuit, an ambitious, fiery expansion.
"Damn it, this is simply too risky!" Duke's face turned pale, a ghostly white against the internal inferno.
In his ears, the incessant, increasingly frantic warnings of the system wizard kept ringing, like a very annoyed, very digital alarm clock.
"WARN!"
"WARN--!"
"The host's arcane energy is insufficient to complete the construction of the Flame magic circuit. At this rate, the host will be drained of energy in three minutes and fifty-seven seconds, and die of exhaustion of all mental power. Also, your hair might catch fire. Just a heads up."
Not to mention the System AI, Duke was also getting incredibly anxious. This was less a magical journey and more a death race against his own rapidly depleting life force.
"Is there any alternative?!" Duke screamed internally, his voice echoing in the fiery void of his mind.
Obviously, Duke was unintentionally tricked. When Kael'thas was building his arcane fire magic circuit, his situation was definitely different from Duke's. Even if he didn't have the pure magic power of the Sunwell as a backing, as the most valued heir of the Sun King, he must have had other, incredibly convenient means of supplying magic power, perhaps a magical IV drip.
But this was Stormwind City, not Quel'Thalas. Duke didn't know if there were ley lines, magic sources, or anything like that conveniently located nearby. If he was caught off guard, if he had to go searching for a magical power outlet, it would definitely be too late. He'd be a very dead, very singed wizard.
"Is there any alternative?!" This was the second time Duke asked, his mental voice now bordering on a desperate shriek.
"Scanning... Protective measures have been detected, but a password is required to activate them! Host, do you want to enter the password now?" the System AI replied, its voice still infuriatingly calm, as if this were a routine software update.
"Yes, try Kael'thas for me!" Duke yelled, hoping for a simple, obvious solution.
"Comparing the original manuscript with the translation, the common language is automatically converted into the High Elven language. The password is being tested... The password is wrong, please re-enter it?"
"The Sun King?" Duke tried, desperation creeping into his voice.
"Mistake."
"The Sunwell? Sin'dorei? Darling? The light of the high elves? My precious? My little arcane pony?" Duke rattled off, throwing every possible, vaguely elven-related term he could think of, his mind a whirlwind of panic and increasingly absurd suggestions.
"Error! Error! Error! Still error! Please consider a less emotional approach to password entry, Host."
Duke was almost going crazy. He was almost beaten dry, his mental energy reserves dwindling faster than a politician's promises, and yet he still had to sit here and foolishly test passwords like a particularly dim-witted hacker?
"Isn't there a way to automatically input a large number of passwords and automatically test their correctness?!" Duke screamed, his mental voice now a full-blown, ear-splitting shriek.
"Host, you are talking about a simple password consisting of 10 numbers from 0 to 9, A to Z, and all the symbols on the keyboard. This password can be used to attack the system by changing the password at high speed. But this is a password. If you can't say the correct password, it is impossible to activate the protection program. Yes, it seems that a corresponding tone is also required. Perhaps a dramatic sigh of despair?"
"Shit! Do we still have to rely on the Sunwell?!" With his life hanging by a literal thread, his mental energy flickering like a dying candle, Duke couldn't help but curse, a raw, desperate expletive torn from his very soul.
"'Shit! Do we still have to rely on the Sunwell?'... Congratulations to the host, the password is correct!"
"..." A huge, utterly comical "embarrassment" bloomed on Duke's face, even as the protective magic surged through him. He had just saved his life with a well-placed curse. He suddenly felt the urge to apologize to the Sun King. And maybe learn some new swear words.