Chapter 177: Make Your Choice—

It was a pair of gloves as thin as a cicada's wings, crafted from the essence of frost. Though made of ice, their design was undoubtedly that of white gloves.

What did Duke mean by this?

"Anyone who's got a problem with me, step up and duel me! Who? Anyone else?!"

The nobles fell silent, not daring to make a sound.

Duke roared like thunder, "That's right! I'm insulting you! I look down on you! If nobility means being cold-hearted, selfish, cowardly, disregarding the laws, corrupt, and thinking you're superior, then I don't want to be a count in this nobility!"

As his words rang out, the room fell silent.

Giving up his title as count? In times of peace, the nobles would have immediately objected. What did he think of the reputation of the kingdom of Stormwind?

But now, they couldn't afford to lose Duke.

Nearly all the sailors and fishermen were under Duke's command. Having seized back the warships, Duke's reputation in the navy had reached its peak. Additionally, the mysterious strength of the naga and murloc legions was a force to be reckoned with.

Countless people now only remembered the Sea King Duke, who had saved their lives, the Duke who had ventured into the orc camp to set a hundred thousand orcs ablaze, and the Duke who had risked his life to slay the Demon King. Unconsciously, they had forgotten the failed King Llane Wrynn whose territory had been lost.

To put it bluntly, whether acknowledged or not, Duke had become a symbol of hope in the hearts of the people.

Now Duke was saying he didn't want to be a count?

With Duke's strength, fame, and wealth, he would be a guest of honor in any human kingdom.

Without Duke, Stormwind City's entire defensive line might collapse within a few days, and then hundreds of thousands of soldiers and civilians would be wiped out by the orcs.

To some extent, it could be said that the dilapidated kingdom of Stormwind was not big enough to contain the great figure of Duke.

That's right! Now Duke was forcing the issue!

King Llane Wrynn stood up suddenly, his eyes filled with disbelief as he stared at Duke. He had never thought that things would come to this point—that Duke would completely stand against the noble class he sought to protect.

Yet, he couldn't utter a single word of refusal.

Duke turned abruptly, his gaze sharp and intense, staring straight at King Llane Wrynn, "Yes! I am forcing the issue! But I am not seeking more power; I am merely trying to wake you up!"

With a confident stride, Duke puffed his chest and pulled in his stomach, "No one is born noble! People become noble through their noble deeds! The great Emperor Thoradin who founded the Azeroth Empire was like this. So was the ancient king who led the abandoned people to this valley and founded the kingdom of Stormwind a thousand years ago. Why are they noble? Why did the ancient kings establish the iron law that no one could be granted a noble title without military achievements?"

The entire hall fell into silence, with only the sound of wind sweeping through the windows and over the chamber. Not only the high-ranking officials like the king and Dukes, but even the royal guards who were attending to them seemed lost in thought. They caressed the lion engravings on their swords, their eyes filled with contemplation.

Duke's voice continued to resonate.

For a day like this, when humanity faces the threat of extinction, is it not for the sake of having true heroes and leaders, worthy of their positions, to lead the people out of the crisis and escape despair!?"

In the hall, the nobles' eyes dimmed with fear, but King Llane, Anduin, Bolvar, and the guards' eyes shone brightly.

"Stormwind City is destined to fall, but one day, when it is time to reclaim the city and revive this great kingdom... please answer me, Your Majesty, the wise and great Llane Wrynn." With that, Duke Marcus raised his head, his sharp eyes staring straight at Llane:

"Who do you truly rely on? These so-called nobles who abandon their people and flee with their wealth in the face of disaster? Or those brave warriors who are willing to fight for the future of all humanity until the bitter end!?"

"Tell me—Llane Wrynn, Your Majesty! And every person here who has opened their eyes! Tell me, who do you choose!?" Duke Marcus's resounding words, full of unwavering determination, echoed through the hall, reverberating off every stone brick, every wall decoration, and every inch of the ceiling.

In an instant, every courageous person in the hall drew their swords, raising them high.

"I choose Duke Marcus!" Windsor, who had once saved the king's life, stepped forward. This was the choice of a loyal subject of the kingdom.

"Duke Marcus!" The righteous Duke Bolvar followed, raising his sword. This was the choice of a high-ranking noble of the kingdom. Nearly a dozen other high-ranking nobles, known for their integrity, also raised their swords.

"Duke!" Azeroth's lionheart, the king's youngest, most loyal, and most courageous knight, Sir Anduin Lothar, also raised his sword, making his most important choice.

"Father! I choose Duke Marcus!" The kingdom's only heir, the future king, the future legend, Varian Wrynn, made the choice to gamble the entire kingdom's future!

Reginald Windsor, Bolvar Fordragon, Anduin Lothar... One by one, heroes whose names would be remembered in future generations declared their stance through their actions. Even Prince Varian Wrynn, who was supposed to be evacuated on the third ship and was now still listening in the council chamber, raised his own shortsword and joined them in shouting:

"Duke! Duke! Duke! Duke—"

This sound, like a roaring gale, like thunder piercing the soul, struck Llane's heart.

Llane felt as if he was standing in an incredibly silent world.

There was nothing in this world except his own heart screaming loudly. That voice, becoming ever clearer and more certain, came from himself, from his ancestors, and from the countless heroes who had given their lives for the survival and prosperity of humanity.

Countless voices converged into a unique force, propelling him to make a choice at this crossroads of fate.

Fiery blood roared from his heart, flowing through his limbs, his organs, and every corner of his body, passionate and surging!

Standing at the crossroads, he seemed to glimpse the future for an instant.

To the left, he saw the Stormwind Kingdom, which trusted the nobles, utterly destroyed in flames.

To the right, he saw the devastated Stormwind City, reborn from the flames with the help of Duke Marcus, Anduin, and other loyal and capable officials.

Yes, he might not witness the end of this heroic epic. The new era will undoubtedly belong to the next generation.

However, he could write the most glorious and brilliant beginning of this great human epic.

For a moment, Llane was overwhelmed by the shock.

He drew the King's sword, raised it high above his head, and his gaze seemed to penetrate the fog of destiny.

Llane, determined to make a decision!