If my calculations are correct, the formidable heroes who will make quite a name for themselves in the future might still be a bit green at this point.
Well, that shouldn't include Uther and Tirion Fordring. They had already lifted their restrictions on killing when the orc slaves wreaked havoc in Lordaeron days ago. It's just that they were using hammers back then, and now they are using longswords to appear more refined.
It makes sense, as they are meeting the Grand Marshal of the Alliance, not going to battle. Why would they carry a royal hammer, oh, a hammer of kings?
In any case, they need to make a good first impression on the Grand Marshal, so their appearance has to be impressive.
It's rare for someone to have their own background music, but Uther is one of them. Gallant without losing elegance, coupled with his burly figure and radiant appearance, as well as the faint halo of the Holy Light surrounding him.
A closer look will make you feel as if you're listening to the church's organ playing hymns, with the faint and pleasant singing of the choir echoing in your ears, giving you a sense of spiritual elevation.
"Allow me to introduce Uther, Saidan Dathrohan, Tirion Fordring, and Turalyon," said Faol, gesturing to them with a smile, like a proud father introducing his sons to the other party at a matchmaking event.
"In the Silver Hand Knights that I am about to establish, they will be crucial members."
Faol paused for a moment before introducing Lothar and Duke to the four prospective paladins.
"This is Sir Anduin Lothar, the general of Stormwind and the supreme commander of the Alliance. And this young mage is his colleague, Duke Marcus, the great hero who killed the Demon Lord Sargeras and burned a hundred thousand orcs."
Faol smiled: "Now it's time for you young people to have a good chat."
The Archbishop nodded to everyone and left the courtyard.
Duke never thought he would see the day when these future legendary heroes would idolize and adore him.
But it makes sense, as Duke's fame has spread far and wide.
In fact, Llane had been deliberately promoting Duke's reputation through Military Intelligence Section 7. Compared to Lothar's series of unremarkable accomplishments, Duke's youthful heroics are more legendary. The more desperate the situation, the more people want to see heroes, role models, and leaders who can guide them forward.
Duke did not disappoint.
And so, Duke's reputation soared.
"Was it impossible to kill Sargeras at the time?"
"Sorry, no one knows how to destroy the soul of the fallen titan."
"How powerful are the demons?"
"If you have time, I can teleport you to Karazhan, where demons attack an average of once a week."
Lothar and Duke were surrounded by these paladin candidates.
The shortest of them, Turalyon, seemed rather timid. The others, like Uther and Tirion, appeared relaxed and natural.
Compared to Duke's unwavering faith in the paladins from his knowledge of the future, Lothar still had doubts. He didn't know what this new profession would bring to the Alliance's military forces.
As Lothar pondered how not to dampen their enthusiasm while providing them with hope and making arrangements for them, it was Uther who broke the ice.
"Respected Marshal, the Archbishop has shown us the way forward. We are well aware that we will soon face a brutal battle. We will follow your every command, fight and die for the people. You can order us whenever you think we are needed," Uther asserted. He was a tall man with a chiseled face that radiated determination. His blue eyes were flecked with a faint golden glow, an almost divine, fervent gaze. From his words and body language, both Duke and Anduin could sense Uther's devout faith in the Light.
His zeal was even more unyielding than that of Archbishop Faol, albeit lacking the warmth and subtlety.
Saidan Dathrohan, the tallest of the group at 2.03 meters according to Duke's system, emanated a stronger warrior-like aura. Clenching his fists, he declared, "We won't ask how many enemies there are, only where they are. We will crush the orcs and send those filthy, brutal creatures back to their planet."
Tirion Fordring's faith was equally steadfast, though without the fanaticism of Uther. He chatted amicably with everyone.
Finally, there was Turalyon, the smallest among the paladin hopefuls. He didn't actively participate in discussions on faith, instead focusing more on the war and the current situation. For example, he mentioned, "If the Horde doesn't have superior shipbuilding technology to drastically shorten the time it takes to build ships, we may be facing a situation where the orcs could overwhelm our defenses with sheer numbers."
The pleasant conversation made time pass quickly. As noon approached, Anduin Lothar, the Alliance's supreme commander, had to attend a luncheon. After bidding farewell to the four paladin candidates, he walked and talked with Duke.
"What do you think of them?" he asked.
"Uther, Saidan, and Tirion will be sharp blades against the Horde. Turalyon, on the other hand, is more rational and perhaps not as firm in his faith. But he's definitely a strategic talent," Duke responded.
"I'm not questioning their personalities…" Lothar frowned and sighed, "I don't doubt my old friend Alonsus, but I'm not sure how useful they'll be."
Duke raised an eyebrow in response, "Why not?"
Lothar pondered for a moment, choosing his words carefully even though he didn't think Duke was indiscreet. After a short while, he replied, "There's too little time. They're seriously lacking in preparation. Do you remember what you said? When the northbound route of Sador's bridge is blocked by Stromgarde, the Horde is expected to arrive on the northern continent within a month or even sooner."
"Yes. So what? Didn't you see their performance in the palace when they killed the orcs?"
"Perhaps they are indeed very powerful warriors, but none of them has ever experienced war as a so-called 'paladin.' Of course, I don't doubt their combat prowess. But we don't lack warriors. My biggest concern is this: I have to command a group of people in a profession that has never appeared in this world before, rookies who have never been tested in battle. Faol wants them to play a core role. A core role! Am I supposed to appoint a few battlefield novices as vice-commanders of the Alliance?"
Duke's mouth twitched: Oh, 'history' indeed played out like that. He wondered why the various kings agreed to let Turalyon, who had no combat record and wasn't of royal lineage, become the vice-commander of the Alliance.
Upon arriving at the luncheon venue, King Terenas's words left Duke feeling stunned.
"Duke Marcus, the seven kings have unanimously elected you as the vice-commander of the Alliance."
Sorry for the late post, I was working on improving my translations prompts for this fic again. I've made some progress but I still have some more experimenting to do.
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