Chapter 271: The Fragmented Thread of Fate

At the end of November, during a quiet autumn night, Duke lay on his homemade beach chair, gazing at the Azerothian night sky, speechless for a long time.

This was a sky unlike any on Earth. Children in large cities had never seen such a beautiful night sky. Even at night, most of the stars seemed dim and lifeless.

Zero magnitude stars shone the brightest, while those above the sixth magnitude were barely visible to the naked eye.

In cities surrounded by exhaust fumes and atmospheric pollutants, only stars with at least third magnitude could be seen.

The Azerothian night sky was clean and clear. Although the constellations designed by Earthlings, based on Earth's location, were entirely unusable here, the stars twinkled brilliantly, creating a dazzling sight.

Stars shimmered, some fading, others rising like new stars, reminiscent of the mortal world's lanterns.

Duke had a small terrace built on the roof of his wooden house, just large enough to accommodate a small single bed. Initially, it was his private space, but lately, the lady had claimed half of it.

At first, Alleria came just to apply ice to her feet. Eventually, she became more casual in her visits.

In particular, Duke's creation of chilled okra with mustard soy sauce became one of the Dark Lady's favorite dishes.

"An exotic, natural taste!" This was Alleria's appraisal of the Transcender's novel cuisine.

Alleria gazed at the night sky, her beautiful face seemingly glowing under the moonlight. The splendor of the stars and moon traced the enchanting curves of her face, illuminating her ivory skin with a rosy hue, and finally, it seemed that all the starlight converged within her emerald eyes.

She appeared captivated by the sky.

"Watching the stars from a place outside of Quel'Thalas seems quite nice too," Alleria praised.

Although Duke wanted to retort that it was still the same sky, his words eventually turned into, "Do you not have to return for winter?"

Alleria gathered her radiant golden hair, "It's been thousands of years. I'm used to the scenery at home. There's nothing wrong with occasionally going wild outside for a few years. Unless the Sun King or the Council orders the abandonment of the alliance with Emperor Thoradin, I'll stay outside for a few more years at least."

Elves with eternal life truly held an indifferent concept of time. No wonder they had kept their distance from shorter-lived races.

However, if the course of history remained unchanged, the elves would lose their eternal lives in the not-so-distant future.

Duke couldn't guarantee that.

The river of fate had already been shattered by Duke's meddling. Due to his interference, the outcome of the First Orc War, which ended with the fall of Stormwind, barely aligned with history. However, now in this Second War, Duke felt he had lost most of his prophetic abilities.

Although he had previously threatened the Barov family, claiming the Horde would land in the Hinterlands, it was nearly impossible to achieve.

...

This meant that the Horde's transport fleet would have to pass through the narrow strait between the north and south continents. The strait was a hundred meters high, and at Duke's strong insistence, King Thoras had already begun to have the engineers of the Stromgarde garrison construct a new batch of trebuchets along the cliffs on the entire northern shore of the strait.

The newly established militia would be responsible for monitoring the entire strait.

Duke would bet that if the Horde dared to cross, the scene of the entire Horde fleet sinking in the strait and clogging it up would be quite spectacular.

The coast of Hillsbrad Foothills would be the same.

Before, Duke was merely bluffing, but not anymore. Before the last mature stalk of wheat was harvested in the fields of the Hillsbrad Foothills, Duke had already begun to use the idle citizens of the Kingdom of Stormwind to build a series of fortresses along the entire coastline.

"The kingdom may not be able to be restored within the next two or three years. To ensure the safety of our temporary residence, please do your best to help."

The battle just over a week ago still left the refugees uneasy. For safety, and for the extra food rations in Duke's work-for-aid plan, the citizens sold their labor at extremely low prices.

Under the command of the naga, the murlocs were driving wooden stakes into the shallow waters along the entire coastline, greatly reducing the possible landing areas. Moreover, Duke's murlocs had already begun to station themselves in the shallow waters west of Dandred's Fold.

After this winter, if the Horde dared to attack again, they would face a meat-grinder-like defense line.

"So, in which direction will the Horde attack next?" Alleria asked Duke.

"Honestly, I don't know. In principle, I've already blocked the Horde's three possible directions of attack."

"Oh?"

"Unless the Horde builds ships in the Swamp of Sorrows more than two thousand nautical miles away on the southwest side of the southern continent, they will have to either attack Southshore from the Wetlands across the sea, pass through the strait and the Thandol Span, or take a detour to the west towards the tip of the sea off Gilneas, then head north to the Northfold Shore or Southfold Shore. To open any of these three routes, the orcs must pave the way with their own blood."

"Why can't they conquer the two thousand nautical mile sea route?" Alleria retorted.

"Because..." Duke deliberately played coy, pulling an okra from the ice bucket, dipping it in soy sauce and mustard, and then preparing to put it in his mouth.

Unexpectedly, Alleria tried to snatch the okra.

Alleria's cherry-like mouth bit towards Duke's hand, and just as Duke was determined not to yield, the Demon Queen's Mount Hyjal peaks inadvertently swayed in front of Duke's eyes.

And so, Mr. Okra died in battle.

Ah, you have a big chest, you're ruthless!

Alleria, this cute menace, was completely unaware that her action had such a lethal effect on a young man with a Qilin arm about to explode, and she even proudly raised her nose.

"Hehe! Because of what?"

"Because there's a massive whirlpool on the western side of the southern continent. It doesn't matter if it's the Horde's ships or Kul Tiras's ships, they will all sink when they go there," Duke answered a bit absentmindedly.

"Ah? So the Horde can't even find a place to land?"

"If the Horde doesn't mind setting off from the Wetlands' Baradin Bay, bleeding all the way to the Southfold Shore, they can still land. However, how effective that would be is another matter."

Duke had completely lost his 'prophetic' insight into the Horde's next move. In the original history, the Horde launched a large-scale landing and succeeded in one go. They mobilized Lothar's army in Hillsbrad Foothills. Lothar was forced to engage the Horde in a pitched battle.

The result was inconclusive, and Orgrim led the Horde's main force to the northeast in Hinterlands, then continued north, striking a heavy blow to the high elves.

Now... it really depends on how Orgrim plays his cards.