Chapter 297: The War Resumes

What a joke!?

A 16-year-old Morningstar Mage?

The terrifyingly unstoppable wave of power alone would annihilate most Morningstar Mages.

Duke is a first-rate Morningstar Mage!

Not to mention that Duke is a master of Fire, Frost, and Arcane magic!

Such an exaggeratedly powerful figure should be embraced wholeheartedly; not doing so would be foolish.

The troublemakers from before practically ran, tails between their legs, to Jandice, begging the noble Miss Barov for her forgiveness. As long as she didn't report their behavior, all would be well.

Even with her good temperament, Jandice wasn't one to be pushed around. She looked at the mournful gazes of the troublemakers and honestly reported everything that had happened in the past two months to Duke.

Duke, adopting the principles of Medivh, casually responded, "Oh, it's nothing. It's human nature. It's my fault for delaying everyone's studies. I'll try to make it up to everyone. If you find it unreasonable, I'm willing to terminate the contract and provide adequate compensation."

Of course, in his heart, he thought differently: You dare to look down on me and cause trouble? Just you wait; I'll make sure you're sent to the 'safest' place on the battlefield.

The troublemakers were all talk and no action.

Those who hadn't left before were even less likely to leave now.

If they truly had no confidence in Duke, they wouldn't have chosen to come. Those who came were struggling apprentices or novice mages with insufficient funds.

The saying goes, "when the tree falls, the monkeys scatter." As long as Duke, the towering tree, didn't fall, there wouldn't be any significant issues. Moreover, Duke hadn't fallen; he had grown more magnificent and exaggerated.

After Duke held several large classes and privately tutored some official mages, all resentment disappeared.

With the arrival of spring, the war was about to begin anew.

The orcs, having hibernated through winter, hadn't weakened their fighting spirit. Instead, it had become even more intense.

Glory and land were what the Horde desired.

For these two things, the orcs were never satisfied.

Upon receiving reports from spies and the Ironforge dwarves, the entire Alliance leadership entered a state of alert. The orcs who had migrated south during the winter were now advancing towards the Wetlands. The orc laborers, who hadn't retreated during the winter, had resumed building ships.

At the Dark Portal's two-year first Alliance high-level meeting held in Lordaeron City and presided over by Lothar, the attendees were high-ranking, with the kings of each nation present. Magni Bronzebeard, the dwarven prince, had also returned to Lordaeron, taking advantage of the orcs' ships not blockading the sea.

Thanks to the reduced orc activity during winter, Duke had managed to transport many shipments of scarce supplies to Ironforge with his fleet. The lives of the Bronzebeard dwarves in Ironforge had improved significantly.

Dwarves' tunnel warfare wasn't something taller races could easily engage in, so sending troops for support was pointless. Duke's actions, providing medicine and food despite tightening his own belt, touched the dwarves deeply.

Upon arriving in Lordaeron and meeting Duke, Magni expressed his gratitude in the most direct way possible: he bent Duke's waist with his dwarven strength, giving him a bear hug.

"Uh, uh, Magni, enough! I can't breathe!" Duke, rolling his eyes, was on the verge of foaming at the mouth.

...

"Ha ha ha! Thank you, Duke, you truly are a dwarf's best friend. I can hardly wait for the day you lead your troops to counterattack the orcs."

"With any luck, we can launch the counterattack this year. But it all depends on whether the heavens favor us," Duke reassured.

Magni conveniently filtered out the rest: "Alright, I'll tell them to hold out for another half a year, and you'll be there."

"Damn it, I said..."

Magni blinked, revealing a cunning side: "My people are in the most difficult situation; they need hope. If not, you can send a few thousand soldiers to Ironforge next winter, and that will also count as 'arriving'."

What the hell, that works too!?

Are you really a dwarf? Are you sure you're not a goblin wearing a dwarf's skin?

This time, Duke wanted to roll his eyes himself.

As a repayment for the Alliance's support of Ironforge, Magni brought a large batch of elongated war hammers and battleaxes, crafted by dwarves during the winter, with Duke's fleet. There was no helping it; dwarves simply didn't like using swords. Asking dwarven craftsmen to forge longswords reluctantly would be worse than crafting what they excelled at.

Anyway, the two-handed war hammers and battleaxes made by dwarves became one-handed versions for humans. Make them a bit longer, adjust the balance slightly, and they become top-notch weapons in the human world.

That's a whopping 30,000 high-quality weapons made by dwarves!

Every king coveted the fine dwarven craftsmanship, but Magni stubbornly refused to sell to anyone else. Duke provided the food and medicine, so only Duke would receive the weapons. How they were distributed was up to Duke.

Duke was quite fair, not keeping the spoils to himself. After some wrangling with the kings, regardless of their kingdom's power, the principle was that those who contributed more troops, funds, and effort got a bigger share.

Naturally, King Terenas happily received the largest piece of the cake. The elite forces of the Scarlet Crusade, led by High Marshal Abbendis and Magraine, fully re-equipped themselves, making others envious.

After the rare rewards, the military council hall once again turned into a noisy marketplace due to the orcs' movements.

"We must build a line of fortified bunkers on the Southern Coast as well! We need your 'concrete,' lots of concrete!" King Genn roared.

After Duke had fortified the Hillsbrad Foothills' defensive line, the most excited king was Genn of Gilneas. In theory, if the Horde didn't attack Southshore, the nearest landing site would be the southwest coast of the Northern Continent, which was right at Gilneas' doorstep.

He emphasized this no less than ten times within an hour.

In the bitter cold winter, when snow covers everything, craftsmen cannot work. To construct a defensive line in the shortest time possible after the spring thaw, concrete is a necessity.

"Don't worry, Genn. If the Horde dares to sail such a long distance to Gilneas without warships, the Kul Tiras fleet will drain those greenskins' blood," King Daelin reassured.

"For the love of the Light, can't you show some sense of urgency? If those crazy greenskins can create two-headed ogres, animate undead knights, why can't they create warships or a flying demon legion?" Genn was too agitated, his thick, red neck looking like it had two arteries inserted.