Chapter 460: The Last Hope

Duke might die!?

The Alliance has been hit with one shock after another these days.

The critical illness of Alonsus Faol only brought surprise to the upper echelons of the Alliance.

After all, the Church of the Holy Light's influence was mainly in Lordaeron and Stormwind, and while the church had missionaries in other countries, the majority of people still remained non-believers.

When the various kings heard about Alonsus, they merely expressed their condolences: "I'm truly sorry to hear this news."

But Duke was different.

Apart from the late King Aiden of Alterac, almost every king was a military expert. They were very clear that compared to the upright and straightforward Anduin Lothar, Duke was the glue and command tower that integrated the various countries of the Alliance.

Everyone knew that Terenas of Lordaeron was the target of public criticism, and that Terenas's motives were somewhat impure. No, it should be said that Terenas's ambition to become the second Emperor Thoradin was known to all.

If the troops were too few, it was Lordaeron's fault.

If there were too many troops and too much money, one had to worry about whether it was a plot by Lordaeron, or at the very least, it was a kind of condescending charity, which no kingdom was comfortable with.

With Duke, the kings of various countries felt much more at ease.

The support of troops, manpower, and materials was absolutely sufficient and on time. And everyone could see that the attrition strategy that Duke had always insisted on was the key to the Alliance's transition from weakness to strength.

If Anduin was the spiritual leader of the Alliance, then Duke was the brain of the Alliance, second only to Anduin in importance.

Now, just as the Alliance was about to enter the counterattack phase, news of Duke's critical illness suddenly came out. The kings of various countries were truly anxious.

Visiting the Archbishop of the Holy Light was a matter of timing for the leaders of each country, one after another to offer their condolences.

What about Duke?

A perfectly good state guesthouse almost turned into a throne meeting.

As a result, they had to move Duke directly to the Lordaeron palace, otherwise, what would it look like with six or seven kings surrounding a small state guesthouse?

Even Grand Admiral Daelin Proudmoore of Kul Tiras, who was in charge of the navy, rushed over on a gryphon, showing the importance of Duke.

Unexpectedly, everyone saw a different-looking Duke, but not a dying Duke. His short hair was slightly gray, like it was dyed, and there was a small tuft of silver at the front of his forehead.

Apart from that, there was nothing else.

It didn't look like a big deal, but all the high-ranking priests and Antonidas, the most authoritative researcher on curses, told all the kings that it wasn't that simple.

"Duke now is like a bucket full of holes. His life force is leaking out every moment. In ten days, you will see a thirty-year-old Duke. In twenty days, he will be forty. In a month, he won't be fifty, but dead."

"Isn't there a way to plug those holes or something?" King Llane was the most nervous. For others, losing a Duke was just losing a commander of the Alliance. The main force of the Horde had been almost wiped out, and the upcoming battles could be won by anyone who wasn't too stupid. The difference was in how many lives were lost and how much time was spent.

But for the Kingdom of Stormwind, what was lost could be the most important cornerstone of the kingdom for the next thirty years, the pillar of the nation.

Antonidas shook his head regretfully: "A single curse is like a thread wrapped around a ball, no matter how messy, it can be unwound following the thread. But Duke's situation is like a ball of threads of the same color mixed together. I can't find a starting point. These are soul-level holes created by different methods from multiple worlds, and I am powerless. Most importantly, this is a curse cast by a demigod mage..."

The good deeds of the world guardian, could a mere mage of the Sunwell handle it?

Whether it was Llane or Anduin, their mouths were full of bitterness.

They didn't expect that after all this, it was still the fault of their deceased friend, Medivh.

The greatest irony in the world, nothing more than this.

The temperature in the air gradually sank. The atmosphere lingering in the sky was the same. Almost everyone had a feeling of suffocation.

"Damn Gul'dan!" Anduin gritted his teeth and pounded the wall.

At this time, it was Duke who spoke: "Actually, the situation may not be as serious as you think."

"Not serious? Then what is serious?" King Llane's eyes were red, and even his voice was choked with sobs.

He didn't cry when he lost the land passed down by his ancestors.

He didn't cry when Stormwind City, the symbol of the entire kingdom's sovereignty, fell.

Now that Duke was critically ill, Llane cried, from the initial redness of his eyes to crying out, it was just a matter of two seconds.

"You brat, you're about to die! I was hoping you could help Varian, to restore the glory of the Kingdom of Stormwind! I was thinking, if that doesn't work, let you be..." The last word 'king' was not spoken, as Anduin patted Llane's shoulder to stop him.

"Let's hear Duke out first."

Duke took a deep breath: "I guess the powers of this world are powerless to help me."

When Duke said this, the hearts of the kings sank.

"But fortunately, I still have one last hope - the Red Dragon Queen."

"Alexstrasza!?" Antonidas's slightly cloudy eyes suddenly brightened: "Right! Why didn't I think of her? Duke has hope, oh, at least there is hope."

"What? What?" The kings suddenly perked up.

Not every king was as learned. They might have received good education from a young age, but most of it was about governing the country, about martial arts, about the practice of chivalry.

Only an old mage as learned as Antonidas could possibly know about this.

Under Antonidas's explanation, the kings learned that Alexstrasza was so impressive.

During the War of the Ancients, to prevent Sargeras from entering this world through the portal of the Well of Eternity, the spell vortex created by the Highborne in the Well of Eternity eventually exploded. The collapse of the Well of Eternity caused a strong earthquake. This earthquake destroyed the skeleton of the world, and nearly eighty percent of the land of Azeroth was torn apart, leaving only a few fragmented continents surrounding the newly formed ocean.

The giver of life - the Red Dragon Queen Alexstrasza, threw a magic acorn into the center of the Well of Eternity. This acorn began to sprout as soon as it met the magical lake water, growing into a huge oak tree.

The roots of the tree reached deep into the bottom of the lake, and the huge canopy almost covered the entire sky. This giant oak tree was an eternal symbol of the harmonious relationship between the Night Elves and nature. The life energy it emitted could slowly spread and heal the wounds of the entire world. The Night Elves named their World Tree "Nordrassil", which means "Crown of the Heavens" in the Night Elf language.