Chapter 299: A Slap in the Face

Magic is a wondrous thing, possessing both an unscientific and supernatural side that adheres to certain fixed rules.

When Duke combined elements of fire, frost, and arcane into a single energy orb, Lothar looked at him as if he were a walking bomb.

After enduring several instances of Laine's 'King's Scorn', Duke gave up on healing.

In March, the warm, flower-filled days arrived.

It was also the three-month anniversary of Duke losing his personal attendant, Vanessa. Well, to be precise, Duke had left her behind in Southshore after he went to Karazhan. Feeling like she couldn't help much, Vanessa, with her stubborn temperament, decided to go train at a rogue sanctuary.

Yes, she went to the Ravenholdt Manor, located in the northeastern part of Hillsbrad Foothills. Although Vanessa left a note stating that she was training somewhere in the area, Duke immediately thought of this place.

Feeling that he didn't really need Vanessa at the moment and being busy himself, Duke temporarily let the matter slide.

In March, the Horde was planning a significant move. Having spent an entire autumn and winter establishing a foothold in Westfall, VanCleef and Gryan Stoutmantle wrote to inquire about the right time to take action.

Duke's order was to wait for the main forces of the Horde to leave the southern continent first.

The Horde's main forces couldn't possibly stay in the southern continent for long. While a human king might be satisfied with occupying such a vast expanse of land, the aggressive nature of the orcs wouldn't allow them to stand still.

At the end of the harsh winter, the forces that had fought in Southshore last year once again assembled there.

Lothar, however, was furious and, in a fit of rage, rushed to Lordaeron to vent his anger at King Terenas.

The reason was simple: even at this critical moment, the nations of Lordaeron, Dalaran, and Alterac refused to enter a state of full-scale war.

"What do you mean by this!? Do you really think that with the current number of troops, you can defeat a million orcs? Even if we exclude the less capable laborers, and even if the elite forces of the Horde are dwindling, their total strength still amounts to nearly 500,000!" Lothar slammed the table angrily.

In the face of Lothar's wrath, King Menethil II was helpless.

"I have issued my conscription orders, but most of my lords have chosen to fulfill their obligations with money. So, I can give you money, but I can't provide you with more soldiers. I'm sorry, Commander Lothar."

This was the peculiar aspect of the feudal knight system. Peasants were considered the private property of lords, who were under the command of the king. However, the king had no right to conscript the peasants without a valid reason.

The current tradition left by the Arathor Empire was: unless it was a formal, land-grabbing invasion or their own territory was under attack, the various lords had the right to choose to pay money or provide resources in response to the king's conscription orders.

If King Terenas were to over-conscript from his own territories, it would result in a chain reaction, such as weakening the king's power and strengthening the lords.

Lothar was almost driven mad with frustration, turning to Antonidas for answers.

Dalaran's Archmage also had a bitter expression: "Dalaran has encountered some issues. A large group of short-sighted, neutral mages, who are oblivious to the world's major events, are protesting Dalaran's excessive involvement in the war. They believe that as long as Dalaran remains unharmed, they can stay out of the conflict. Then, taking advantage of an incident involving one of our council members, they organized a protest demanding a council re-election and a series of reforms."

Lothar was so furious he nearly tore his own hair out, and finally turned his gaze to King Aiden of Alterac.

"Alterac is a small nation, and conscripting even one more infantry battalion is already our limit. If we conscript more, we won't need the orcs to attack us; by winter, half of our people will starve to death. Yes, it's because a certain deputy commander bought the Barov family's food supply."

In that instant, Lothar felt like killing King Aiden. With excuses of weak national strength and providing food for Stormwind's people, they directly shirked responsibility.

Ultimately, these three nations saw that the Eastern Front had Stromgarde at the Thandol Span bridge. The Central Front had Stormwind refugees stubbornly holding Southshore, and the Western Front had Kul Tiras' navy providing protection. These short-sighted nobles and mages believed that if anyone were to die, it would be foreigners, and it was not their concern.

Human nature's dark side was laid bare at this moment.

Lothar was nearly driven mad with rage!

His roar echoed throughout the Lordaeron palace.

"Tell those damned nobles and self-proclaimed safe, idiotic mages. The Horde's military strength is now three times that of the Alliance! The orcs' individual combat abilities are also three times that of humans! Once our naval defenses are breached, every human will have to pay a bloody price for your three nations' reluctance to enter a full-scale war! Money! Money! Money! What's the use of money when you lose your head!"

Aiden muttered, "If the defenses are breached, it must be because someone isn't doing their best."

King Daelin spat on the ground with disdain, "Since last year when Stormwind City was besieged, all of Kul Tiras' shipyards have been working nonstop, building ships in 24-hour shifts. I've spent every last coin in the treasury on constructing more shipyards and training every Kul Tiran fisherman into a sailor. Now, I'd wish the orcs would land a hundred goblin zeppelins in your Alterac palace and have a human barbecue party in your courtyard."

With that, Daelin kicked open the council hall door and stormed out, leaving a furious Aiden, his face the color of a pig's liver, yelling inside.

On this day, the kings of the four nations that had already entered a full-scale war state, including Stormwind, parted ways with the leaders of the three nations that were only willing to engage in a partial war.

Had it not been for the major event on March 15th, this might have been a precursor to the Alliance's fragmentation.

On this day, it was the day for Kul Tiras' Third Fleet to patrol the open sea of Baradin Bay.

The lookout suddenly spotted something unusual; on the horizon appeared countless blood-red sails.

The lookout rang the alarm bell!

The shrill alarm resounded throughout the entire fleet.

"Damn it! Why are the Bloodsail pirates here?" Brigadier Marshal Arkent, commander of the Third Fleet, cursed in anger.

However, what he saw through the telescope made him shiver.

Ships!

A dozen or more huge warships!

On the massive ships of battleship class, there were designs entirely different from human vessels. Besides a few sails, the entire ship had no sense of beauty, and it was like a heap of garbage made of various wooden pieces floating on the sea.

But the cannons mounted on those warships clearly told the Brigadier Marshal that these were warships! And they were orc warships!

"Commander! Please give instructions!" The first mate cried out anxiously.

Other ships also sent inquiry signals.

"Who has Kul Tiras' navy ever feared on the high seas!? Raise the battle flag! Engage!"

One day later, the entire Alliance learned the news of the annihilation of Kul Tiras' Third Fleet.

The nations were shocked!