Chapter 474: Rivalrie

The most ridiculous thing in the world is that people speak with their mouths, but what they say depends on where they stand.

As a mage, Alaric deeply understood the mindset of his peers. However, due to his current position, he had no choice but to launch a righteous verbal assault against them.

Criticizing other mages was one thing, but when it came to this particular mage standing before him, Alaric felt it was absolutely necessary. 

If he had a justifiable reason, he would have killed him on the spot without hesitation.

His name was Dar'Khan Drathir.

Alaric had first learned his name at a High Elf banquet, which allowed him to recognize this infamous traitor from the original timeline.

This young High Elf mage had shown great promise, rising swiftly among his kin. 

However, he had long coveted the esteemed status of the Silvermoon Council and resented their refusal to share the power of the Sunwell. 

Ultimately, it was he who betrayed Quel'Thalas during the Scourge invasion, leading to the annihilation of the Silvermoon Council and the fall of Silvermoon City.

So, before anyone could even voice their agreement with Dar'Khan's words, Alaric stood up and roared.

"I expected that as a High Elf mage addressing the Silvermoon Council and the esteemed lords and nobles here, you would, like the previous speakers, offer some insightful arguments. 

Yet, I did not expect you to utter such crude and disgraceful words!"

Dar'Khan was utterly dumbfounded by Alaric's reprimand. Was this truly the same Grand Magister Sandor, the polite and logical man who always refuted others with well-reasoned arguments?

The other High Elves were equally shocked, turning their gaze toward Alaric.

In truth, when dealing with high-ranking nobles, courtesy was important, but displaying a firm stance and even a bit of temper was sometimes necessary. 

At the very least, it commanded respect and prevented others from underestimating him.

Before Dar'Khan could respond, Alaric continued.

"Allow me a moment, and I ask all of you to listen carefully. When Quel'Thalas was newly founded, and the Sunwell was first established on Quel'Danas, the High Elves finally found peace. 

However, soon after, the Amani trolls rose against them, waging war. 

Quel'Thalas triumphed, thanks to the power of magic, yet the trolls did not yield. 

After lying dormant for a thousand years, they returned in force, inflicting devastating losses upon the High Elves. 

It was only by uniting with the Arathor Empire that Quel'Thalas finally crushed them. But the trolls' strength lies in their numbers. 

For a thousand years, both sides have clashed along the jungle borders, leaving countless villages in ruins, and the people of our land have suffered immensely.

"In these dire times, what have you mages done? Dar'Khan Drathir, I know your history well! 

You and your peers have lived comfortably in Silvermoon City, rising to prominence through war with the trolls, sustained by the Sunwell's power and shielded by magic barriers. 

It is your duty to aid the throne and defend Quel'Thalas!" (At this point, Alaric stood up.) "So why do you cower within Silvermoon City rather than face our mortal foes?"

"You… aren't you a mage yourself?" Dar'Khan, nearly choking in fury, pointed at Alaric and stammered, "What gives you the right to say this to me?"

Alaric ignored him and bellowed, "Silence! Shameless wretch! Do you not see how countless High Elf rangers and warriors long to tear trolls apart with their own hands? 

Yet you sit here, advocating retreat? We are fortunate that fate has not abandoned Quel'Thalas, that our human and dwarven allies are willing to stand with us and vanquish our foes!

I am here today on behalf of the Alliance to discuss war strategies. You, a spineless coward, can do nothing but shrink in fear and hoard your comforts—how dare you prattle about retreat in front of me? 

You decrepit fool, vile traitor! When you meet your ancestors in the afterlife, what face will you have to show those who perished at the hands of the trolls?"

Perhaps it was the intensity of Alaric's words, but Dar'Khan clutched his chest, his voice trembling. "I… I… I…"

Seizing the moment, Alaric pressed on. "You selfish wretch! You call yourself a Magister, yet you have accomplished nothing in your life! 

All you do is wag your tongue and spew nonsense! You are nothing but a spineless cur—how dare you bark at me?"

"You… you—" Dar'Khan was already a narrow-minded man. He had come to the council hoping to outdebate Alaric and boost his own prestige. 

Instead, not only had he failed in his goal, but he was now speechless, completely humiliated. His reputation, which he had sought to build, was now in ruins.

Realizing this, his anger surged uncontrollably. His blood pressure spiked, and before he could catch his breath, he collapsed unconscious on the spot.

The sight of Dar'Khan fainting left the entire hall in an uproar. Heated debates were common in the Silvermoon Council, but never had anyone been scolded into unconsciousness.

Even Alaric was momentarily stunned. 

Did these words really hold such power?

Could Dar'Khan have actually died from the scolding? If so, Alaric might face resentment from some quarters in Quel'Thalas, which would be far from ideal. 

It would be foolish to damage his reputation over someone like Dar'Khan.

Fortunately, Dar'Khan was merely unconscious and not dead. Alaric breathed a sigh of relief. Instead of tarnishing his name, his feat of verbally knocking out Dar'Khan would only enhance his prestige.

Scolding someone into unconsciousness—how novel was that?

Even the harshest critics could only blame Dar'Khan's fragile temperament rather than accuse Alaric of going too far. Dar'Khan's reputation was beyond saving.

Yet, the uproar forced the council to adjourn temporarily. As the members left, their eyes carried a newfound respect—tinged with wariness—toward Alaric.

This was an isolated incident, but no one wanted to take chances. What if they ended up like Dar'Khan, scolded into unconsciousness and made a laughingstock?

From that day forward, Alaric gained fame in diplomatic and political circles. Countless diplomats marveled at his oratory skills—after all, not everyone could boast of scolding a High Elf Magister into fainting. 

At the same time, politicians and envoys grew wary of him, often conceding and compromising in debates with him. This greatly boosted the efficiency of Alaric's diplomatic maneuvers.

But that was a matter for the future.

For now, Alaric's scathing speech had not yet secured a definitive war resolution.

Although he had raised crucial points—the deep-seated enmity between the trolls and the High Elves, the rangers' thirst for vengeance, and the suffering inflicted on border settlements—there were still many who agreed with Dar'Khan's stance. 

Their resistance continued to obstruct the war proposal.

Alaric understood that no matter how eloquent he was, he couldn't convince everyone.

However, diplomacy was not limited to direct persuasion. There were always alternative methods.

.

.

.

Guys, do leave some power stones and reviews.

✌patreon.com/bobthewriter✌

If you guys enjoy this story, you can support me on Patreon and get access to 30 Advance Chapters, it really helps me to work on new chapters.