Chapter 176: Dare to Duel Me?

They didn't know who was the mastermind behind this incident. For now, seeking vengeance could wait; the urgent matter at hand was to clear their names from this disgrace. After all, what was the death of a few people? At most, it was just a redistribution of power. As long as their honor was preserved, even if the ship named after King Llane Wrynn sank, they could find an excuse to seek refuge in the other human kingdoms of the North.

After a brief discussion, Viscount Damanan reluctantly stepped forward and bowed to King Llane, saying, "If Your Majesty permits, we propose the following version of events: 'In order to cover the retreat of our citizens, the noble army led by Duke Farence bravely fought against the Bloodsail Buccaneers. When victory was within reach, the nobles who had secretly turned into demons attacked their own, leading to the collapse of our fleet. At that moment, the fearless Sir Lothar and Count Marcus arrived on their gryphons, joining forces with the remnants of the noble army to annihilate the Zank division of the Bloodsail Buccaneers.'"

Despicable!

Shameless!

In that instant, Lothar was furious to the point of exploding. It was these very nobles who had seized the Stormwind navy's ship to transport their filthy wealth, accumulated from the blood and sweat of the people, only to suffer a double strike from pirates and demons. And even now, they had the audacity to glorify themselves in their own twisted version of events!?

If it weren't for King Llane's restraint, Lothar would have already taken action upon receiving the news of the ship's capture.

With Lothar's anger reaching a boiling point, he was about to draw his sword and strike down the shameless Viscount the very next second.

However, at that moment, Count Damanan was suddenly sent flying by a slap.

The slightly obese Count Kardon spun twice in midair before crashing heavily to the ground.

"Shameless!" A thunderous roar echoed through the council chamber.

The few nobles present stared in disbelief at the one who struck the blow. It was none other than the rising star among the new generation of nobility, the recently prominent Duke Marcus!

This young Duke possessed an even stronger aura than Lothar.

With a sudden wave of his hand, Duke Marcus pointed at the now swollen-faced Count Damanan and cursed, "While common folk risked their lives to dig moats for a single ship's passage, you nobles shamelessly threw Stormwind's navy officers off their ships just to load a chest of gold. And you have the gall to call yourselves heroes fighting against pirates? To claim you are descendants of the great Emperor Saladin? I spit on that notion! I refuse to be associated with the likes of you!"

With that, Duke Marcus spat directly onto Viscount Damanan's face.

While Duke Marcus had insulted only Viscount Damanan, every noble present felt as if the spit had landed on their own faces. King Llane was trembling uncontrollably from head to toe.

At that moment, King Llane questioned himself in his heart: Was I wrong? Was I truly wrong?

Since childhood, the late king had always taught him that the nobility was the foundation of the kingdom, and that the nobles should never be undermined. Varian had always revered this teaching as sacred law. But as he grew older, he found himself increasingly unable to accept the actions of the nobles, yet he continued to remember the late king's blessing and never dealt with the nobles harshly.

Now, faced with the present situation, King Llane was shaken to his core. He couldn't help but question himself: Was I wrong? Have I truly been mistaken all this time?

Since childhood, the late king had always taught him that nobles were the cornerstone of the kingdom, and nothing should ever undermine them. Varian had always upheld this principle as sacred. But as he grew older, he found it harder and harder to accept the deeds of the nobles. Despite this, he always kept the late king's teachings in mind and never took harsh actions against them.

The current scene relentlessly assaulted Varian's conscience and sense of justice, causing his entire body to tremble uncontrollably.

However, seeing Duke Marcus, the hope of the kingdom, clash directly with the old nobles was not what he wanted either.

For a moment, Varian was utterly lost.

On the other hand, the nobles were in an uproar.

Why did Duke Marcus, this impulsive youth, have to act out at a time like this? Shouldn't nobles discuss matters in private first, only resorting to open confrontation when negotiations fail?

The nobles, being shrewd, knew better than to get entangled with Duke Marcus in a matter already deemed a lost cause.

"Apologizing is a disgraceful act that damages the dignity of all nobles!"

"Right! Apologize! Apologize to Count Damanan immediately!"

"Otherwise, we won't recognize your noble status!"

A group of nobles clamored, insisting that Duke Marcus had violated the etiquette of the nobility.

"Hmph!" Duke Marcus let out an icy snort imbued with the chill of arcane magic, causing the temperature in the hall to plummet by more than five degrees: "Fine, if you want to talk about noble etiquette and standards, then I'll act according to your noble customs."

The nobles breathed a sigh of relief when Duke Marcus seemed to comply, thinking that the impulsive youth had finally given in. But the next moment, Duke Marcus flung a white glove, smacking it right into Count Damanan's face.

Indeed, for the sake of etiquette, nobles would always carry a white glove. Throwing a white glove into an opponent's face meant only one thing— a duel!

When the conflict between two nobles could no longer be resolved, they could settle their differences through a duel in the presence of a suitable witness. The one who refused the duel would be deemed the greatest disgrace among the nobility, shunned by their peers for life.

"Go ahead and duel me! If you think I've insulted you, then fight me to wash away your shame!" Duke Marcus stared coldly into Count Damanan's eyes, his disdain for life and death chilling the count to the bone.

In the next moment, Duke Marcus drew his sword.

It was not an ordinary sword, but a fiery blade conjured from the elemental plane of fire, a replica of the standard-issue longsword of Stormwind. The ferocious and blazing fire elemental, which should have been extremely volatile, became as docile as a puppy in Duke Marcus's hands. If it weren't for the scorching aura that could be sensed from more than a dozen meters away, no one would have thought it to be a real flame.

"No, no, I didn't think you insulted me!" Count Damanan actually backed down.

Of course, it made sense; those who kill often possess a powerful aura of death.

Ever since his debut, Duke Marcus had slain gnolls, murlocs, naga, and orcs. Recently, he even turned thousands of orcs into charred corpses.

Recently, he had even roasted thousands of orcs to charcoal. He exuded an absolute aura of killing intent that was hard to ignore.

In addition, he had killed Sargeras, the legendary demon lord, and had a terrifying reputation for being able to enter and leave the Horde's camp at will. Even if Duke claimed to use a sword, which aristocrat in their right mind would dare to duel with him?

"You're too scared? You're just a useless coward!" Duke mercilessly spat out his venomous tongue.

Just when everyone thought it was over, three dozen white gloves suddenly flew through the air and landed on the disgusting faces of those aristocrats who had instigated the palace coup. Not one of them was spared. (To be continued.)