Chapter 666: Saint Duke

In the third year and second month since the Dark Portal's opening, the land remained in the grip of frost, showing no signs of awakening life.

This was the harshest moment of winter, where the bitter cold persisted, and the food supplies were nearly depleted.

Across the northern continent of Lordaeron, the frozen, starved corpses of commoners were a grim sight to behold. Thanks to the bitter cold, there was no fear of plague, but the hard layers of ice had led everyone to abandon the burial of companions or neighbors.

The nobles of Lordaeron celebrated their victory in the warm embrace of their castles, while in the far south of the continent, in the Kingdom of Stormwind, King Llane Wrynn braved the sub-zero winds and fine snow with Prince Varian, inspecting their lands.

Indeed, amidst the chill wind that bit with the ferocity of minus five degrees, and the light snowfall.

For in the depths of Elwynn Forest, remnants of orcs lingered, forcing King Llane to lead the royal knights, numbering over five hundred. Accompanying them, of course, were paladins, priests, hunters, mages, and several rangers from the Windrunner family.

Passing by the graveyard outside Goldshire, several frozen corpses caught the eyes of Llane and Varian.

"What has happened here?" Anduin, following Llane's inspection, felt an unnamed fury ignite within his chest.

There was no need for his outrage, as a visibly panicked mayor of Goldshire was promptly summoned.

"My apologies, Your Majesty, we had no inkling of your patrol."

"Not aware? So, had you known, would you have hidden these bodies?" King Llane's words, sharp as a blade, carried an imposing authority.

"It's not like that, Your Majesty. Please, look closely, most of them are elders," the mayor, almost beside himself with fear, hurriedly explained.

And Llane saw that it was so.

"Their health was already failing before they returned to Elwynn. Everyone advised against their return, yet they insisted, 'If we are to die, it shall be in our homeland.' After being tossed about at sea for over a week, we did our utmost to tend to them, placing them near physicians or priests, as per the directives of Sir Marcus. Alas, they did not survive the journey."

The mayor's defense silenced Llane and his companions.

Homeland—this held a sacred meaning for every citizen of Stormwind.

Since the founding of the kingdom, a millennium had passed, and many had never left their ancestral lands. During the days of Stormwind's fall, even Llane himself had agonized countless times over whether he'd ever return to this land that had been passed down through generations.

In the immediate aftermath of the fall, perhaps he and his citizens held a fervent desire to reclaim their home. But what if he were to fall in battle, and all the warriors intent on reclaiming their homeland were to perish? If it took five, ten years without reclaiming their nation, how many would remain to support the cause?

The longing of the citizens, especially the elderly, to return to their homeland, was something Llane, Anduin, and even the young Varian could deeply understand.

Llane sighed, and in the cold winter air, his breath formed a clear mist: "Mr. Mayor, I accept your explanation, but now, please lead us to where the commoners gather. I wish to see with my own eyes the fruits of your labor, and your loyalty to the kingdom and its people."

"Certainly! Right away!" The mayor, wiping the beads of sweat now freezing on his face, hurriedly led the way into town.

Due to Goldshire once serving as a base for the Horde's assault on Stormwind City and being scorched by Duke's fire, despite over a year's passing, many trees still stood barren—either dead or yet to regrow.

In the somewhat desolate town, Llane was relieved to see many houses built in the human style standing tall. A year and a half prior, the same spot was cluttered with the disgusting, dirty, and chaotic tents of the Horde.

"My king, many of these houses look the same," Prince Varian exclaimed in surprise.

Llane too was astonished; as a king, he had only seen Duke's reports claiming the construction of numerous houses. He had always viewed internal reports with a skeptical eye, believing that if even a tenth of the houses were properly built, with the rest of the citizens having somewhat sturdy tents, it would be an achievement.

Now, it seemed Duke's reports were indeed accurate, without any embellishment!

"Thanks to the Grand Duke Marcus's new construction manual, we managed to provide every family with a winter-proof house before the onset of the cold, totaling one thousand one hundred and twenty homes. As long as there's a man in the house, even one without any building experience, under the guidance of a craftsman, they could erect a sturdy house in a month with just five or six people."

Llane, Anduin, and Varian were all taken aback.

They knew nothing of house-building, but they had seen how carpenters and masons built houses in the past. It used to take at least half a year to complete a house.

What efficiency was this?

The mayor first led the king and his party to the warehouse.

Inside, they saw neatly stacked lumber, and Llane noticed each piece of wood had notches at both ends: "What is this..."

The mayor: "Well, I don't quite understand the specifics myself. Mr. Frankliff of the Stonemason's Brotherhood explained it to me once. He said something about simply placing beams and posts in a certain order, joining the notches, then using pegs and wedges to secure them. No need for nails or anything!"

They moved on to inspect the commoners' houses.

Each house was nearly identical, with only minor differences in the carvings or the colors of the door. Inside, the layout was simple: a living room with a fireplace, two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small storage room.

Upon the somewhat desolate streets of the town, King Llane found solace in the sight of many homes built in the human style standing strong. A year and a half earlier, this same place was overrun with the Horde's vile, filthy, and haphazard tents.

"My king, these houses seem to be all of the same make," Prince Varian exclaimed in wonder.

King Llane shared his astonishment. As the sovereign, he had only read Duke's reports that boasted of the construction of numerous homes. He had always viewed such internal reports with a skeptical eye, half-expecting that if even one-tenth of the houses were built to standard, with the rest of the citizenry sheltered in somewhat sturdy tents, it would be considered an accomplishment.

Now it appeared that Duke's reports were indeed accurate, with not a hint of exaggeration!

"Thanks to Grand Duke Marcus's innovative building manual, we were able to provide each household with a winter-resistant home before the cold set in, totaling one thousand one hundred and twenty dwellings. Even if a man had no prior experience in construction, under the guidance of a craftsman, he could build a solid house in a month with just five or six helpers," the mayor explained.

King Llane, Anduin, and Varian were all taken aback.

They had no knowledge of house-building, but they had seen how carpenters and masons erected structures in the past. It was a process that typically took no less than half a year for a single home.

What sort of efficiency was this?

The mayor first led the king and his entourage to the warehouse.

Inside, they saw lumber stacked in neat rows, and Llane noticed each piece of wood had notches at both ends: "What is this..."

The mayor replied, "Ah, the specifics are beyond me. Frankliff of the Stonemason's Brotherhood once explained it. He said something about just placing the beams and posts with designated numbers into their assigned places on a level ground, joining the notches together, hammering in a dowel, and you'd have the skeleton of a house. The structure wouldn't just fall apart. Then cover it with the pre-prepared double-layered wooden boards, and voila, a house is nearly complete."

"Just like that?" Anduin was equally astonished.

"Uh, except for the stoves for heating, those had to be assembled by the women who were more idle."

"Take me to see one," commanded Llane.

They didn't have to walk far before arriving at a commoner's home at the edge of the town. After knocking, a startled farmer opened the door to welcome the king and his party.

"No need to kneel, speak standing up."

In this era of strict social hierarchy, it was a great boon for commoners to address the king without having to kneel. To have them sit together would be unthinkable for them, on pain of death.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the man said with his wife and three almost grown children echoing in unison.

"You're a soldier on leave?" Anduin noted the man's necklace. The necklace bore a rectangular tag, an innovation proposed by Duke—dog tags. These tags listed a soldier's name, place of origin, unit affiliation, and honors earned.

The man snapped to attention, a perfect military posture: "Sergeant Joseph Adams of the 5th Squad, 3rd Company, 5th Infantry Regiment of the Kingdom salutes you, Commander Anduin."

"How has this winter been for you?" King Llane asked with a smile.

"By Saint Duke's grace, we've managed quite well," Joseph replied almost instantly, his face turning pale at his own words.

"Saint Duke?"