Chapter 503: Twisted Lordaeron

Duke fell into a strange slumber.

On the surface, he was waiting for the departure of the red dragon. In reality, he remained trapped within the Emerald Dream.

This went unnoticed by the red dragon, Neltharion, and even the lurking Vereesa behind Duke.

Almost simultaneously, in a Dalaran encampment, a large group was bustling.

They were constructing a massive stone gate.

The gate, composed entirely of Dalaran-style purple crystal pillars, wasn't as overwhelmingly large as the Dark Portal but still ranked as one of the world's largest teleportation gates.

The mesmerizing blue-purple portal hadn't fully opened yet. To the onlookers, the other side appeared to be utterly black.

Nearly a hundred Dalaran mages were anxiously inspecting each magic circle.

Earthen mages were testing the magic output.

Dawnstar mages were checking the integrity of the magic circles.

A member of the Council of Six and a Silvermoon Councilor were standing above, directing everything.

"It seems this world hasn't seen such large-scale teleportation in nearly a thousand years, eh?" the Silvermoon Councilor muttered.

On the adjacent square, thousands were busy.

They were no ordinary soldiers; almost every fully-armored individual bore the insignia of a knight, or at least that of a knight's apprentice. The knights' squires were busily conducting final checks on weapons, armor, and provisions of water and dry rations.

Behind the lines were professionals—hunters, rogues, priests, mages.

Ahead of these knights were a few paladins, clad in bright silver armor, emanating a faint holy glow. They held a name that echoed across both the Alliance and the Horde—the Knights of the Silver Hand.

Upon closer inspection, one could notice that many of their weapons were enchanted with the [Dragon Slaying] enchantment.

Even if half the mages of Dalaran were utilized for teleportation, it would not match the capability of the Dark Portal, nor would it transport an army of a hundred thousand in one go.

1,000 people, 1,200 at most, was the limit.

Here were assembled the elite forces of Lordaeron.

Here, almost every person had the strength to single-handedly take down five orc warriors.

They were the elite of the elite.

They were the glory of Lordaeron.

Behind the square was an observation platform, from where everything below could be clearly seen. King Terenas of Lordaeron stood tall, holding the king's scepter, speaking to Archmage Antonidas, "My military advisor tells me that even if they face three ancient dragons simultaneously, this force could battle them."

Antonidas seemed deep in thought, answering after a few seconds, "Your advisor has given you a rather conservative estimate."

Terenas's face beamed with pride, "Lordaeron has failed before, but Lordaeron will rise to even greater glory."

Daelin, Genn, Llane, and Thoras, the four kings standing near Terenas, furrowed their brows. They sensed something when Terenas used the term 'Lordaeron.'

Not just the human kings, even Kael'thas and Kurdran Wildhammer felt a sense of disgust.

Ever since the recent incident between Stormwind and Lordaeron, the kings had grown more cautious.

Everyone knew Lordaeron had acted dishonorably. After the failed forced marriage to Jandice, the two nations had exchanged verbal blows. It was only when Lothar threatened to resign as Grand Marshal that Terenas finally relented. The offending noble was stripped of his title, demoted to knight, and the Pavillon family was forced to publicly apologize, shifting the blame onto the messenger.

They claimed the dowry was 100,000 gold coins, not 1,000, and spouted nonsense excuses.

The insincere apology was a bundle of lies that not even a child would believe.

As a result, even if Lordaeron and Stormwind hadn't entirely fallen out, the seeds of conflict had been sown.

Were it not for the Horde's occupation of the entire southern continent and the strategic foothold in the Arathi Highlands on the northern land, the Alliance might have already begun to fracture.

Everyone was clear: Lordaeron was twisted. Or perhaps it had always been a twisted nationalist power, merely concealed.

Now Lordaeron, citing that a surprise attack was not suitable for too many nations to join, had refused to form a joint army. Indeed, the assembled force was something other nations could hardly muster.

The other kings were torn; they both hoped Lordaeron's surprise attack would break the Alliance's passive position but also subtly hoped Lordaeron would not succeed.

Once the red dragon, the last trump card, was lost, the Horde might crumble. They couldn't imagine how arrogant Lordaeron would become after this turning point in the battle.

Of course, if Duke were here, he would describe it thus: Lordaeron was about to poke a hornet's nest live.

Terenas turned to the other kings, arms wide, "Do you see? The elite of Lordaeron are so powerful! Do you see? This is the heroic posture of a victorious army."

The other kings saw a nearly insane twist in Terenas's face.

However, none of the kings said anything, except Llane.

Llane Wrynn strode forward, his seemingly ordinary movement filled with a cold, resolute determination. Mograine, standing beside Terenas, involuntarily narrowed his eyes.

"General Menethil, I only wish to tell you one thing: never underestimate those you think are mere pawns..." With that, Llane walked away without looking back. Alongside him was Grand Marshal Anduin Lothar.

In the Alliance's internal affairs, titles were vague.

One could use personal names or add 'Your Majesty.' For example, Duke preferred to call Terenas "King Terenas."

If conducting official business, one might use the military rank. In this regard, all the kings were generals. Llane's address was not wrong, but it was very formal.

But Llane was Llane; even as a king without a country, he would not demean himself.

Llane's public display of anger left Terenas's face ashen.

Terenas scoffed, "Never mind him. This is a righteous battle, and victory will undoubtedly be ours. If you are ready, Master, please begin."

Antonidas did not like Terenas either.

The shamelessness of politics was also in this; as one of the nations that had received ample benefits, Antonidas had to fully support this action.

On the surface, this was purely Lordaeron's force. But after Dalaran received its share of benefits, it tacitly allowed many free mages to sign contracts before the battle, transferring to Lordaeron.