If it wasn't for Duke's video and the bloody combat of the orcs, Lord Barov would have certainly scoffed at the mention of '50,000 elite soldiers' from Duke's mouth.
In this era, so-called rumors were often inflated beyond measure.
What was said to be an army of 100,000 could barely muster 30,000 actual soldiers. Of course, the nobles and generals of this time were accustomed to counting ill-equipped peasant soldiers and even auxiliary troops who helped transport food supplies.
Having experienced the tangible threat of the orcs, Lord Barov's perception of Duke and the Stormwind Kingdom behind him had changed dramatically. Facing such a terrifying and organized barbaric race, the fact that so many citizens and elite soldiers were preserved was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes.
Duke saw that Lord Barov was moved.
A sincere smile spread across Duke's face, "Of course, in the end, this is just a possible future. There is no absolute certainty that the Horde will come from the Hinterlands. However, Your Grace, don't you think that trading food for the friendship of the Stormwind Kingdom, King Llane, and my personal friendship would be a worthwhile deal?"
At this point, Duke raised three fingers, "On behalf of the Stormwind Kingdom, I propose to your family that we purchase 5,000 tons of wheat at a 30% premium over the current market price, paid in Arathi gold coins. As a symbol of our personal friendship, I can unconditionally transfer the luxury goods exclusive rights of the 'New Pearl Shipping Line' in the Hillsbrad Foothills and the Arathi Highlands to you."
Lord Barov's expression faltered.
Duke was too cunning; the 5,000 tons were precisely the total amount of old wheat stored by the Barov family. Lord Barov wouldn't believe for a second that Duke hadn't secretly gathered intelligence.
In this era, storage technology was quite poor. Even if the grain was stored in cool, dry caves, the food would rot within a maximum of three years. Lord Barov knew that for the refugees, just having enough food to fill their stomachs would be considered a blessing. Trading 5,000 tons of old grain for a large sum of money and the friendship of the Stormwind Kingdom was not a bad deal at all.
Whether for commercial reasons or as insurance for the future, Lord Barov could not find a reason to refuse.
Duke stood up and extended his right hand, "Honorable Duke, for the future of the people of Stormwind, and for the future of all humans in Azeroth, please agree to help us."
As an accomplished actor and a potential leader of humanity's future, Duke's smile was incredibly sincere, or at least it appeared so.
Lord Barov and his wife exchanged glances before letting out a deep sigh and rising to their feet. He extended his hand to Duke, "Although I still have many doubts about the strength and direction of the Horde, and although I am not a prophet who can see through the future, I choose to believe in you, who has created such an atmosphere for successful negotiations, and in your ambition. I agree to this!"
With the dust settled, Marco, who had been anxiously waiting behind them, finally felt relieved.
Marco had not participated in the final defense of Stormwind City. He had been sent early on to manage the refugee camp in Southshore. If it weren't for Edwin VanCleef overseeing construction, Marco would have been the top authority there before Duke's arrival.
Duke had done a lot of preparatory work for Southshore's refugee camp, from dividing living and functional areas to ensuring water supply, sanitation, and security. He had drawn no fewer than 50 blueprints for this purpose.
But the most important issue, food, remained unresolved.
As the number of refugees increased daily, the food stockpiled in Southshore dwindled at an alarming rate. Even if each refugee received only two pitiful small pieces of black bread daily, it did little to curb the depletion of food supplies.
After all, just a while ago, nearly ten thousand new refugees arrived daily.
Now, Duke had secured a food trade agreement, finally solving the urgent problem.
Lord Barov smiled and clasped hands tightly with Duke: "Lord Markus, I still need to discuss this matter with His Majesty the King. If there are no major surprises, approval shouldn't be an issue. King Aiden usually follows my advice. What I really want is your personal friendship."
Alexei Barov, a cunning elder statesman, subtly reminded Duke of his special relationship with the king by addressing him by his first name, a privilege few enjoyed. Just as only Lothar and Llane could address King Perenolde by his first name.
Duke, who knew the course of history, didn't expose this. He warmly said to Lord Barov, "I feel the same way. How about Uncle Alexei address me as Duke from now on? It would make me feel much more comfortable."
"Duke, I'm pleased to know you."
With that, the two foxes left the negotiating table, their arms around each other's shoulders.
While Duke's negotiations made decisive progress, King Llane's negotiations hit a deadlock – or rather, they had not begun at all!
In the state guesthouse of Lordaeron, Lothar paced restlessly, eventually slamming his fist against the solid wall.
"Damn it! How many days has it been? King Menethil II still refuses to see us!?"
Lothar had reason for his anger. Llane and he had been in Lordaeron for three days. The King of Lordaeron, Terenas Menethil II, the most powerful among the seven human kingdoms after the split of Arathor Empire, had avoided meeting King Llane under the pretext of illness.
"Keep calm, Anduin. A meeting between kings isn't as simple as you imagine," LLane said, sitting back in his chair and sipping his tea.
"But the Horde grows stronger every day! Our gryphon riders and spies across the sea have found that the Dark Portal has reopened, and hordes of orcs continue to pour into this world. Yet the King of Lordaeron won't even meet us. And that damn Lord– the way he looks at us is as if we're beggars!" Lothar couldn't control his temper.
"Calm down, Anduin. A meeting between kings is not as simple as you imagine," Llane said, casually sipping his tea.
King Llane set down his delicate teacup, "A king without a kingdom is indeed not much different from a beggar. Anduin, we must be patient."
"Patience!? Our enemies are amassing forces, our subjects in Southshore are starving, to hell with patience."
At that moment, the kingdom's sole surviving Morning Star court mage, who had been guarding Llane, suddenly opened his aged and cloudy eyes.
"Your Majesty, the latest news: Duke Marcus's negotiation with Lord Barov has been successful. He has reached an agreement with the Barov family to purchase 5,000 tons of wheat at a 30% premium over the market price."