Stormwind Wizard God
Chapter 743: Old soldiers

Chapter 743: Old soldiers

At the age of 22, Varian was at the peak of his vigor and vitality.

He longed to achieve great things and also longed to become a hero like his most admired uncle Anduin one day.

It’s not that he doesn’t like Duke, but Duke is still a mage after all, and they are not on the same path.

Anduin’s words served as a good wake-up call for Varian.

He lowered his head humbly and bowed to Anduin.

At this time, Calia, who had been silent, spoke up. Even though she had matured a lot, she still had that soft girl’s unique voice: "Duke, is there anything else that Lordaeron can do for the Alliance?"

Duke tapped the tabletop with his left index finger.

If the course of history remains unchanged, then within three months, Archimonde will kneel and the power transmitted to Azeroth by the Burning Legion will be weakened. By then, the Lich King Ner’zhul will have lost half of his strength. Logically, it would be ideal to wait until then to launch a counterattack.

It’s just that this is too negative.

First of all, the premise of this is that Archimonde must surrender. What if this life’s Archimonde is too powerful and really blows up Mount Hyjal, takes over the Well of Eternity, and destroys the World Tree? Then everyone will be doomed.

Secondly, the Alliance has preserved more vitality than in history. At least two-thirds of Lordaeron’s elite troops have been preserved, which gives the Alliance more confidence.

There will no longer be the Scarlet Crusade, which is often criticized as a dog, and the Silver Dawn, which seems a bit miserable but praised by everyone.

Moreover, if Calia becomes the queen and is simply kept in the palace as a mascot, it would be a waste.

While Duke was thinking about it, he suddenly received new news.

It was a magical image sent by a sacrificed mage apprentice: in the image, Archimonde’s huge body swept across the fragile continent of Lordaeron all the way to the west.

The land invaded by the Scourge was where all living things died and withered, but at least the earth was still the earth and the forest was still the forest.

Wherever Archimonde passed, it was easily burned to ashes by the flames flowing from his body.

The earth was sinking, and everything that could burn was reduced to ashes.

Perhaps, this is why they are called the Burning Legion, and not the Demonic Legion.

In his heart, Duke cursed fiercely: "Damn it, if this guy can teleport here, why can’t he teleport directly to Kalimdor!?"

Despite his scolding, Duke still carefully questioned the officer who was summoned, and the news he received was that Archimonde had gone to the vicinity of Orson Farm in Silverpine Forest in the western part of the Lordaeron continent.

"This huge demon is expected to arrive at the South Flow Coast late tomorrow," said the herald.

Duke hesitated for a moment and gave his first order: "Notify Daelin to clear the sea Road and avoid contact with Archimonde."

Duke turned around and looked at Queen Calia, who was looking forward to the mission. "Please inform Mograine. Let Abendis and Turalyon push the battle line back to the Thandoliel River area, and then let Dathrohan and Mograine lead the army to attack Caer Darrow personally."

"Caer Darrow?" Ilucia shuddered visibly. She would never forget that place. After all, she had lived in Caer Darrow throughout her childhood.

"I’m sorry, Ilucia. It has become the largest base of the Cult of the Damned. The Scourge calls it the School of Psychic Studies. Darkmaster Gandling trains dark acolytes and necromancers there. Destroying it is equivalent to cutting off an important source of manpower for the Scourge."

Anduin snapped his fingers, looking a little happy. "Not a bad idea. And it’s right near the front line. But don’t they have two Sunrise-class Archliches? Should we..."

Duke shook his head. "You don’t know the two great liches well enough. Anasterian is not the kind of guy who is willing to follow orders and act like a dog. And Kel’Thuzad doesn’t like direct confrontations. He won’t go into battle until all his men are dead. But to be on the safe side, I can let Krasus help with the attack on Caer Darrow. In case anything happens, he can hold on until I teleport over."

Calia smiled, "Then I have no problem."

"What about us?" Varian was eager to try.

"Call Magni, and we’ll go to Dalaran for an armed parade."

Varian immediately slumped down. He was not lacking in wisdom, and he immediately understood what this was. Archimonde roared in Dalaran, turning Dalaran into ruins.

It is conceivable that Arthas would most likely evacuate Dalaran.

The Scourge was now so powerful that a hasty attack on Lordaeron would provoke Arthas to launch a fierce counterattack. All commanders with clear minds knew that it was impossible to defeat the Scourge in one fell swoop at this moment, and that taking things step by step was the best approach.

So the counterattack on Dalaran is more of a political gesture. Just like Lothar’s recovery of Arathi Highlands and Stromgarde, which had almost no organized Undead Army, a few days ago, he said on the surface that he had recovered so much territory, but in fact it was a piece of white land.

No one but the hardiest of Stromgarde would want to stay there any longer.

In fact, in the past week, more than 100,000 people from Gilneas and Stromgarde have responded to Jaina’s call and have boarded or are preparing to board ships to go to the paradise in their hearts - Theramore, located across the Endless Sea.

After most of the day’s discussion, the tasks for each legion were finally determined.

After the meeting, Lothar found Duke privately and told him a piece of news that was not surprising to Duke: "If we are going to fight Archimonde this time, I can’t go. I plan to give Quel’Zaram to Turalyon."

"Anduin, your body..."

Lothar smiled bitterly: "The injuries I suffered when I was young were so serious that I realized they were serious only after I was over 60. Many parts of my bones and muscles hurt all the time." Lothar took off his coat, baring his upper body, and pointed to the scars on his body. Duke noticed that several of the scars were left from the decisive battle with Orgrim.

Thinking of how Lothar had led the army out again despite his illness, Duke couldn’t help but feel a lump in his throat: "Then..."

"Although as a warrior, dying on the battlefield is the best fate, but if it means weakening the hope of victory for the Alliance and even the world’s intelligent races, then I would rather give up the sword and let the stronger younger generation gamble on the future of mankind. I have already made up my mind, don’t try to persuade me. You should also know Turalyon, he is a good guy."

"Indeed."

"I’ll leave it to you this time. I hope you’ll have good news. If you fail, don’t worry, I’m still here. Even if I only have a broken iron sword, I will go and fight Archimonde."

Although Lothar was speaking in seemingly relaxed words and had a carefree smile on his face, Duke could deeply feel Lothar’s helpless sense of old age.

Duke’s chest tightened, not only with awe, but also with a feeling of immense regret.

Old soldiers never die, they just fade away...

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