Chapter 592: The Triumphant Procession Amidst a Whirlwind Part 2

King Terenas nearly spat out a mouthful of old blood onto the immaculate white jade railing of the balcony.

His script had been perfect.

If he wanted to annex Alterac, the first step was to ensure the people of Alterac weren't seen as war heroes. Allowing the Mountain Falcon Knights of Alterac to attend the triumph would be an unnecessary impediment to the forthcoming plans.

"That incompetent Frank! Didn't I give him a royal decree?" Terenas felt an overwhelming urge to order the immediate execution of that bumbling fool.

But it was too late now.

They had entered the scene. Would he ask Mograine to intercept the Mountain Falcon Knights and send them back?

Who had allowed them in? What was Abbendis doing?

Wait! Where did the Kingdom of Stormwind get those warhorses?

Terenas trembled slightly.

Then, the Stormwind Knights entered.

Being the first to combat the orcs and the first kingdom to be devastated by the brutal Horde, the Stormwind Knights' entrance held special significance.

But what the people of Lordaeron and visitors from other lands saw was unexpected.

They didn't see knights in shining armor or well-groomed, magnificent steeds.

They saw warriors returning from countless battles.

Their armor, even after cleaning, bore the traces of blood, dents, and cracks from heavy weaponry. New metal patches, like makeshift fixes, were slapped over the damaged areas.

Some knights' shields had evident holes, the result of troll spear-throwers.

The drawn swords remained sharp, but upon closer inspection, one could see the uneven edges where they had been re-sharpened after breaking.

Following the Stormwind Knights, the Mountain Falcon Knights of Alterac were similarly worn. But more notably, many of them carried more than one sword, and many of those were broken.

A proper knight's sword was expensive, with even the simplest cross steel sword starting in the three-digit gold coin range. It was traditional for senior knights to gift their apprentice a knight's sword when they deemed them ready to be a full-fledged knight.

This was a rite of passage, a symbol of the elder's expectations for the younger.

A knight was only ever allowed one knight's sword at any given time.

But they were permitted to carry multiple swords only under one condition: upon returning from the battlefield, they brought back the swords of their fallen comrades or elders.

The sword was a knight's tombstone, and his epitaph.

Those blood-streaked swords, some even broken in half, spoke volumes to every onlooker about their owner's fate and will.

Many in Lordaeron gasped.

Kind-hearted young women wept uncontrollably.

They had heard tales of the betrayal of the King of Alterac, and many times they openly slandered the people of Alterac. They never imagined the extent of the sacrifices and prices the knights of Alterac had paid to cleanse their shame.

Following them were the Stromgarde troops from Arathi Highlands, carrying the shields of their fallen comrades, scorched from the fierce attacks of the red dragons, then enslaved by the Horde.

The people of Dalaran carried shattered tower shields and crossbows.

The Kul Tiran troops brought a row of broken curved blades.

And many, many more…

The warriors of the Alliance, in the most genuine way, showed the people who remained behind the brutality of war and the greatness of the warriors.

Without loud slogans or proud postures, the troops from various nations marched in silence.

Perhaps an hour ago, those who hadn't experienced the brutal war might not have understood how the seemingly frail humans could defeat the ferocious orcs.

Now, they all understood.

It was won by the blood and lives of the Alliance's warriors, with the greatest courage and the most unwavering will.

Someone started clapping.

Someone else began cheering.

Suddenly, the streets, which had been silent, erupted in cheers and applause.

"Bravo, warriors!"

"Thank you for your brave fight!"

"Without you, we'd all be dead."

"You are the real heroes of the Alliance!"

"I love you all! I want to marry you!"

Who was shedding tears?

Whose soul was trembling?

Whose throat was roaring?

The applause, cheers, and shouts overwhelmed the triumphant warriors. Every Alliance soldier was moved to tears.

Their hardships and their comrades' sacrifices felt worth it in that moment.

"For the Alliance!"

"Long live the warriors!"

The sun's rays shone on the warriors' not-so-bright armor, each piece seemingly ablaze. An indescribable radiance emanated from them, outshining even the sun.

It was a glow from the soul.

A glow symbolizing courage.

Everyone's gaze remained fixed on these warriors, unwilling to look away.

Then, the crowd cheered for the dwarves and high elves.

Suddenly, the Lordaeron army, which was supposed to be the grand finale, appeared.

Strangely, many stopped clapping.

No applause, no cheers, no flower petals raining down.

Even the people of Lordaeron stared incredulously at their own troops.

After witnessing such a genuine and close-to-war triumphant procession, the gorgeous white steeds that looked like they were participating in a dressage competition, the shiny new armor, and the lightweight, decorative long swords at the knights' waists...

Everything deeply offended the onlookers' eyes.

In an instant, everyone felt a sharp pain from their eyes to their very souls.

Had they not seen the procession led by Duke and Anduin, they might have applauded this seemingly magnificent spectacle, and the young ladies might have screamed for the handsome knights.

But now, everyone felt that the Lordaeron Knights, who appeared last, were a desecration of this brutal and legendary war.

Especially seeing those inept, powdered-faced young nobles, barely able to ride their horses, mixed into the triumphant procession, the people of Lordaeron felt a sense of being mocked.

"Get out! This is a celebration for the warriors!"

"Right! Leave! Lordaeron doesn't need you pretenders claiming false war achievements!"

"Go."

"Go!"

"Go—"

Thousands of voices converged, and soon, everyone adjusted the rhythm of their angry shouts.

"Go! Go! Go!"

The shouts were like raging waves.

The insults were earth-shattering.

At that moment, all color drained from Terenas's face.