Chapter 244: A Perfect Deception

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" The prestigious Sea King, Sky Mage, and Alliance Deputy Marshal Duke Marcus was suffering while tending to his injuries in a small wooden cabin.

"Milord, you really should take better care of yourself. There was no need for you to cater to that wild woman from Quel'thalas. As a powerful mage who deserves the utmost protection, as a high-ranking official in the kingdom of Stormwind, and as one of the most important figures in the Alliance, you should consider marrying a suitable noble lady instead of getting beaten by a wild woman who spends her days frolicking in the woods."

Gavinrad was healing Duke's wounds with the Light.

Duke gritted his teeth but did not refute Gavinrad's words. This didn't mean Duke agreed; it was just that arguing would be futile.

Gavinrad the Dire, one of the most powerful of Stormwind's new generation of nobles, was forcibly sent to the consecration ceremony of Archbishop Faol and became one of the first Seven Paladins. Regrettably, among the Seven Paladins, Gavinrad's strength was only above the weakest, Windsor, and even below Bolvar, whom Duke had placed there.

As one of the historical first Five Paladins, Gavinrad was the most inconspicuous. In the Battle of Andorhal in later generations, Gavinrad fell to the hands of Arthas, who had become a Death Knight.

It wasn't that Gavinrad was too weak. In terms of martial prowess, if Uther, the most powerful, was defined as a full score of 100, Gavinrad would be around 82. It was an excellent level. The main issue was that the other first-generation Paladins were just too overwhelming.

His innate martial prowess wasn't off the charts, and coupled with his aristocratic mindset and a less than exceptional devotion to the Light, his performance in history was not outstanding.

But as a bodyguard, his performance was enough to reassure Duke.

Even though Duke knew Gavinrad had his best interests at heart, sometimes certain words were very harsh, like:

"Lord Marcus, if you need to relieve some stress, I would recommend..." Gavinrad glanced at Vanessa and then continued with a serious, yet tainted tone, "finding a handmaiden, such as Vanessa. After all, she's one of our own, and besides..."

Vanessa, furious and embarrassed, attacked. She used Shadowstep to appear behind Gavinrad, followed by a Backstab.

But paladins are resilient, and Vanessa's training was far from complete. Gavinrad managed to turn around halfway, raising his fist glowing with the Light, and sent Vanessa flying, dagger and all.

"Oh, if Vanessa is unwilling, that's fine. But my very first teacher was my female servant, and even now, unmarried as I am, she is still my lover. Milord, you should understand that noble marriages are very cautious."

Over there, little Vanessa was baring her teeth and growling, "Scoundrel, I won't let you get away with this."

"Hey, Vanessa is my handmaiden."

"Of course, Your Excellency, I will be careful not to hurt her." As he spoke, Gavinrad punched Vanessa and sent her flying again.

"Enough, I know which family to marry into, don't bring this up again."

"Understood, Milord."

Other than his aristocratic mindset, Gavinrad was fundamentally an excellent paladin. But that was all. Duke would comfortably send Wendsor to command the Marcus family's private army, but he wouldn't let Gavinrad go.

In the following days, Duke's relationship with Alleria... how should I put it, seemed to have normalized. Things progressed as they should. They were neither overly intimate nor distant. The two got along more naturally; the only issue was that Alleria still often treated Duke like a child.

Lothar would occasionally tease Duke, saying he had monopolized two of the most beautiful elven rangers, yet he couldn't enjoy their company.

Time marched on to November 11th.

Lothar found that there was little left to make him laugh.

The gryphon sentries stationed near the Wetlands and close to the mountains surrounding Ironforge had returned, barely alive. The Horde had dispatched a large number of search parties to ambush them.

Proudmoore's ship had returned as well.

As had Duke's Naga scouts.

All brought the same terrible news.

The Horde had seized over 90% of the dwarven kingdom of Khaz Modan and had begun using the dwarves' mines to build their own ships. Unlike the previous wooden transport ships, these were large, crude iron vessels, clumsy in maneuvering, but their hulls could carry thousands of orcs.

These ships would carry the Horde swiftly across the waters, their sights clearly set on Southshore—more precisely, the western coast of Southshore. During these days, countless Horde scout boats had attempted to bypass the Naga and Murlocs' interception to explore the Western Coast.

Southshore itself had not seen a single Horde scouting boat; it was as if it were an abandoned target.

It seemed that if the Horde successfully landed on the western coast of Hillsbrad and established a position, they would be situated between Southshore and Gilneas, not far from Gilneas, Dalaran, and the territories of Alterac.

The Horde would then hold the initiative, and the orcs could strike in any direction.

If the Alliance could move swiftly, they could be waiting for the Horde when they arrived, launching a counterattack.

"Gather the troops," Lothar roared. "Abandon all unnecessary belongings—if we survive, we can send someone back for them later! Now, all we need is speed. Move out! Move out!"

As his other officers were about to leave the command post to gather their own forces, Lothar turned to look at Duke, with the kings standing nearby. "I'm sorry, but it seems your Southshore defense line is useless now. The Horde has changed their Warchief, and they seem to have gotten much smarter."

Lothar consoled the young Duke. Not just Lothar, but many others also gave Duke comforting glances. Everyone knew that Duke had spent an unimaginable amount of effort to establish the Southshore defense line.

As a representative of the elves, Alleria also attended the meeting. She almost wanted to step forward and comfort Duke.

At that moment, Duke suddenly spoke.

"Marshal Lothar, do you really want the Alliance's elite forces to face the Horde in an open field?" Duke asked.

Lothar's expression darkened. "What other choice do we have? We can't control the Horde's landing site. We can't set up a long defense line along the entire Hillsbrad coastline at this time. If the Horde lands on the western coast, they will bypass your sea-facing defense line in Southshore, and all the Alliance forces will be encircled and annihilated in Southshore."

Lothar was half-explaining, half-commanding as he clarified the situation to Duke, almost as a senior tactician.

At that moment, he and Alleria both saw the corner of Duke's mouth lift into a grin.

Then let the Horde come to Southshore to meet their doom," Duke snapped his fingers, and Windsor, standing next to him, immediately understood and walked out of the command post, waving two red flags high.

In the next moment, countless fortresses appeared on the distant hills that were once only green grass...

Lothar and the others were stunned.