Chapter 590: Lordaeron Denies It! I, Duke, Grant It!

An echoing silence enveloped the scene as the voice trailed off.

Terenas is pushing the Alterac citizens towards a perilous path!

So, the Alterac had a brief lapse, allowing the Horde through. But Lordaeron's stronghold did not fall!

Is such a grave grudge truly necessary?

To be honest, everyone was deeply scornful of King Perenolde's betrayal. The initial disdain for the Alterac Gryphon Rider Squadron was palpable.

But how did they respond?

Despite facing endless humiliation from the Alliance, they valiantly led charges and bravely covered retreats.

On numerous occasions, they were nearly obliterated. Yet what happened?

Out of a squadron of 1000, how many times did half perish in battle?

When a knight fell, a squire stepped up. When all the squires perished, the trainees took their place. Using the residual weapons of their predecessors, they diligently repaired damaged armor and continued the fight.

Through their blood and battles, they've washed away their shame. Anyone familiar with the Gryphon Rider Squadron would never belittle this iron-willed force.

Now, with a single command from Terenas, they are dismissed. How could anyone bear this injustice?

Duke took a stand.

However, with the Alliance's current structure dissolved, Duke, being just a Grand Duke and a lord of the southern continent, dared to offend the mightiest king of the northern continent?

Thoras Trollbane sneakily observed Duke's unusually youthful face. He shouldn't have held out hope, yet he still harbored some anticipation.

Muradin Bronzebeard and Kurdran Wildhammer took a step forward but were held back by Magni Bronzebeard, who whispered, "That's Duke."

A simple statement— That's Duke.

The miraculous Duke.

Since the Alliance's inception, he has achieved countless wonders and consistently coordinated with almost every deputy commander of the Alliance member nations.

If Duke didn't act now, his reputation for miracles would surely be tarnished.

That's what everyone thought, and that's what they were hoping for.

At that moment, Duke laughed.

His voice suddenly rang out, commanding and clear, "Today marks the Alliance's victory celebration! Not just Lordaeron's victory! You dog, who hasn't even set foot on a battlefield and barks with Terenas' leash, if you understand human speech, leave now, or I'll make you!"

The world was shocked.

Did Duke dare?

Did he truly dare?

Almost every Alliance warrior who witnessed this was taken aback, their eyes fixated on Duke, their hearts aflame with passion.

The moment was so intense that they scarcely dared to breathe, fearing they might miss this historic event.

Duke Markus! How dare you defy the decree of King Terenas Menethil II?" The Duke of Frankish, like a dog whose tail was stepped on, jumped in outrage.

"Are you done?" Duke smiled gently and signaled Lothar not to intervene.

Lothar sighed, "Alright, I hope you know what you're doing."

Suddenly, a sharp slap landed on the Duke of Frankish's powdered face.

To everyone else, Duke's move seemed slow. But compared to the Duke of Frankish, it was lightning fast.

The Duke of Frankish was taken aback, "You... You dared to hit me?" Holding his swollen face, disbelief evident in his eyes.

But before he could react, another slap came.

In the midst of this, hundreds of mages summoned Arcane Blasts, which struck the Lordaeron Royal Guards, sending three hundred of them flying.

The scene was astonishing.

Thoras Trollbane was in shock.

The Bronzebeard brothers and Kurdran raised their hammers in approval.

Stormwind and Alterac knights banged their swords against their shields.

Dwarves cheered, banging their hammers against their shields.

Elven rangers whistled in approval.

Under the gaze of countless Alliance warriors, the three hundred guards were sent flying, landing in disarray.

Before they could recover, Duke's next move came.

Hand after hand slapped the guards. The once-handsome guards now had swollen faces, resembling pigs more than men.

Lordaeron's pride was at stake.

Duke, mounting his steed, raised the [Grand Marshal's Battle Staff] high and shouted, "Today! It's the Alliance's triumphant ceremony! Every brother who has bled for the Alliance, be they human, dwarf, or elf, deserves to partake! This isn't about borders, but about justice and fairness! If you are true men, follow me! If Lordaeron denies you your honor, I, the Deputy Commander of the Alliance, bestow it upon you!"

"We march on!"