What

Duke choked on the wine he'd just swallowed, and it was a real, honest-to-goodness, cough-it-all-up choke. Terenas and Anduin, bless their hearts, just guffawed at the sight.

"Ahem, why me?" Duke managed to wheeze, whispering his doubts. "Shouldn't we be picking one of the Paladins Archbishop Faol just introduced?"

At the long, polished table, Terenas gracefully set down his wine goblet. "That's certainly an option." He shot a knowing glance at Anduin, who immediately returned it with a conspiratorial wink.

Anduin chimed in, "I think it's the same reason I was elected the Alliance's chief commander. If it weren't for you, Duke, perhaps the kings of the seven kingdoms would have chosen a more 'neutral' Paladin, nominated by Bishop Faol, as the deputy commander of the coalition army."

Like a well-rehearsed comedy duo, King Terenas picked up the thread. "What the dwarves need is simply support. Once they get enough, they won't have any mobile forces to speak of for a while. But the kings of the seven kingdoms? They're a different kettle of fish. They have to consider who to hand their armies over to, for the safest possible reason. Plus, this time, the seven kingdoms have committed their elite troops. We trust Sir Lothar, but in military matters, there are often times when you need to split forces. In truth, finding a candidate who is strategic, decisive, fair, and acceptable to all countries is like finding a needle in a haystack."

Anduin rejoined, "I understand that the Archbishop wants the Paladins to work a miracle, but why should we take an unnecessary risk when there are better, safer options right in front of us?"

Terenas chuckled, his silver hair, streaked with gray, rippling gently. At that moment, he looked almost… adorable to Duke. "You've got a ready-made, universally recognized, fair person with an impressive track record, who's neutral enough to boot. Why would you pick a complete unknown, a rookie? That, my dear Duke, would be the height of absurdity!"

Duke felt a blush creeping up his neck, a mix of embarrassment and a strange sense of satisfaction that he was finally, truly, messing with history.

Yes, he forgot that he was the most suitable one.

In history, Lothar had gone to the northern continent almost alone. Born in Stormwind, he naturally couldn't step on the toes of the five northern kingdoms and Kul Tiras. The same went for Duke. Duke's roots, his interests, were firmly planted in the southern continent. And Duke's string of successful performances – like giving up command of the fleet – had completely won over the kings. So, Duke rose to power.

Turalyon, who was originally slated for a meteoric rise, did indeed climb the ranks in his subsequent discussions with Lothar. Unfortunately, he only made it halfway up the ladder. Turalyon remained Lothar's deputy, but merely an adjutant in the army, not the Deputy Commander of the Alliance, and certainly not with independent command.

In the eyes of King Menethil and Lothar, Bishop Faol wouldn't be upset about not giving such a high position to a so-called Paladin without even seeing him in action. This was entirely for the Archbishop's benefit. After all, a Paladin was a combat profession, not a graduate of a strategy academy or a seasoned officer school.

"I'm sorry, Turalyon…" Duke offered a silent, bitter apology in his heart.

Then, a whole lot of other stuff was hashed out during lunch. Terenas talked about forming the Knights of the Silver Hand, with the Paladins as their core. This wasn't a quick fix. First, it would take at least a month just to recruit people from Lordaeron and the entire northern continent. Then, training, reorganization, and instilling faith would take at least three months before they could even be considered a fighting force.

But the Horde's cross-sea attack was looming, closer than a bad smell.

After lunch, during the afternoon military meeting, the hastily assembled, makeshift troupe gathered.

The main attendees and their shiny new Allied military ranks were:

Commander Anduin Lothar, Deputy Commander Duke, Admiral Daelin Proudmoore, Lieutenant General Alexandros Mograine, and Major General Abidis.

Of course, the main reason for this rather exclusive gathering was that most of the kings had already hightailed it back to their own countries to rally their troops. And the King of Lordaeron, bless his politically savvy but militarily clueless heart, was content to simply send troops and cut checks. The kings also had a little backroom agreement, specifically forbidding Terenas from meddling in military command.

Daelin, despite being a king, slipped seamlessly into his role as Alliance Admiral, showing proper respect for Lothar, the Commander-in-Chief.

"The current intel from my fast reconnaissance ship indicates that the Horde has built a large number of small and medium-sized transport ships. However, we haven't spotted any large warships comparable to our destroyers."

"A large-scale sea crossing, and they don't need any cover?" Lothar rubbed his temples, a headache brewing. "That's completely against common sense!"

"That's human common sense," Duke calmly reminded him. "If it were a normal human army, there'd be no way they could scale the cliffs east and north of Stormwind City to attack its two low walls. But the Horde did it, and Stormwind City fell because of it."

No one dared contradict Duke on that point.

Lothar looked up. "Who has a more reasonable inference?"

Duke glanced at Admiral Daelin, then pointed to Southshore in the middle of the massive map. "If I didn't have good shipbuilding technology, or enough time to build a large number of warships to compete with the enemy, but I had a surplus of troops, then I would use a large number of transport ships to simply overwhelm the enemy."

Daelin shot Duke a somewhat peeved look. "I'd like to remind you, Vice Commander, that the First Fleet of Kul Tiras has already docked in Southshore, and the Second and Third Fleets will arrive within five days. The Storm Fleet, whose command you graciously transferred to me earlier, is also on standby in Southshore."

The unspoken message was clear: Don't you dare underestimate Kul Tiras's dominance in naval warfare!

"Very good confidence, Your Excellency Admiral," Duke replied, a hint of a challenge in his voice. "May I inquire how many warships are in those four fleets combined?"

"Twelve scout ships, 312 destroyers, 89 cruisers, and 18 large warships!" Admiral Daelin puffed out his chest proudly. "If all the Horde ships are just these moving targets, the Kul Tiran Navy can wipe them out on the open sea!"

"Very impressive numbers," Duke conceded, "but what if the invading tribe has more than ten thousand transport ships? Twenty thousand? Thirty thousand? What if the number of enemy ships far exceeds the total firepower of your entire navy?" Duke pressed on, his questions hitting home.

Daelin's expression finally looked a little… off. "This… shouldn't be possible, right?"

Duke pulled up a 3D video, showing the Horde using their hard laborers, sacrificing them at will, to attack Stormwind City.

"See?" Duke narrated, pointing to the screen. "These are the Horde's laborers. In the eyes of the orcs, these laborers have no value beyond cannon fodder. They'll be used and discarded without a second thought. We know of over 500,000 Horde warriors, and that doesn't even count these laborers. If I had that kind of disposable manpower, I'd build twenty thousand transport ships. The first five thousand would be nothing but laborers, just enough to keep the ships afloat. I'd even use them as tugboats, sending them in waves to chew through the human side's ammunition. And when your ships, Daelin, are battered and your cannons are about to explode, that's when my official troops would make their grand entrance."

The generals were so spooked, their scalps tingled. Lothar took a deep, shaky breath. "So, what's a good solution?"

Duke smiled, a glint in his eye. "Please allow me to introduce everyone to the Southshore Defense Line."