If Jaina's overall attitude toward Alaric was one of respect, then the other three children present regarded him with curiosity.
The reason was simple—Alaric's achievements and his age.
In terms of age, to everyone present, Alaric was not much older than these princes and princesses. The eldest among them, Galen Trollbane, was only two or three years younger than Alaric's official age.
Yet, this young man, who was essentially their peer, had already risen to a high position in the Alliance and had just secured a brilliant victory in war. It was only natural for these royal children to be intrigued by him.
However, their curiosity was tinged with different emotions.
For example, Galen Trollbane's gaze held not only curiosity but also a hint of jealousy, and the same was true for Arthas.
This was understandable. These boys were at that awkward adolescent stage—restless and rebellious.
Being of royal blood, they had matured earlier than most. At this age, it was natural for them to be unconvinced by the achievements of their peers.
More importantly, Alaric had likely become the "model child" in their parents' eyes.
It wasn't impossible. Alaric's accomplishments were not limited to magic.
To these kings, the young mage had at least demonstrated considerable military prowess, and his analysis of orc intelligence suggested he had an understanding of politics and economics as well.
For princes who needed to master statecraft—politics, military strategy, and economics—who could be a better role model than Alaric?
Given that, it was no wonder Alaric's mere existence left an indelible impression on these royal children.
As for Princess Calia…
What was with that admiring gaze?
Why not take a cue from Jaina? As a princess, at least maintain some composure…
In any case, despite their mixed feelings toward Alaric, their noble upbringing ensured they remained courteous and enthusiastic in their interactions with him.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the youngest among them—Arthas—could no longer contain his curiosity and eagerly posed a question to Alaric.
"I heard from the servants that you led the Alliance army to wipe out all the trolls. Is that true?"
"In fact, Your Highness, that is a misunderstanding," Alaric corrected with a shake of his head.
"Trolls are a vast race that inhabit various regions of this world—forests, deserts, tundras. To say that all trolls have been exterminated is simply impossible.
However, if you are referring specifically to Zul'Aman and the Hinterlands, then yes, I did accomplish that."
"Only Zul'Aman and the Hinterlands, huh…" The young prince's enthusiasm dimmed slightly at the clarification, but he quickly brightened again.
"Still, that's incredible! I've never heard of anyone so young winning such a large-scale war."
His voice was filled with admiration.
"You flatter me," Alaric responded modestly. "It was the result of the combined efforts of my generals and soldiers."
"But you don't look very strong. You don't seem like a powerful warrior. How did you win such a victory?"
It was Galen who spoke this time, his red-haired gaze filled with disappointment and skepticism.
Indeed, compared to the humans of this world—at least the men—Alaric's physique seemed somewhat lacking.
While he did possess a well-toned body, he was by no means "muscular." His refined features and relatively soft lines stood in stark contrast to the rugged masculinity typical of this world.
As for the prince of Stromgarde before him, though only two or three years younger than Alaric, he was already considerably more robust.
Though shorter, he was visibly more muscular, his physique shaped by strict knightly training.
Given the nobility's emphasis on chivalry, it was unsurprising that Galen harbored such biases against Alaric.
However, his remark was swiftly met with objections.
And the first to speak up was not Jaina or her father but rather Princess Calia.
"How could you say that about Lord Sandor?" the princess rebuked Galen indignantly. "A man with only muscles is nothing but a brute.
In fairy tales, no prince or knight is ever a crude musclehead. A true gentleman, like Lord Sandor, doesn't need brute force to achieve victory."
So Jaina was an exception. Calia, on the other hand, was the textbook example of a naive princess—one who had grown up on fairy tales.
Though amused by her words, Alaric still gave her an approving nod for speaking up on his behalf.
Noticing his acknowledgment, the princess immediately turned away, her face flushing with embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze.
What an innocent girl.
Jaina, too, was quick to defend her newly acknowledged mentor.
"As an Archmage, Master Sandor doesn't need brute strength at all," she argued, glaring at Galen. "Mages use wisdom to solve problems."
Having been refuted by two girls in succession, Galen's face flushed red. For a boy his age, losing face in front of girls was unbearable.
Frustrated, he blurted out impulsively, "Only a true warrior can lead soldiers to victory! I refuse to believe that a weakling could defeat those man-eating trolls."
Alaric found his childish outburst amusing, but he patiently countered, "You are mistaken, Prince Galen. In reality, the most important qualities of a commander are wisdom and decisiveness.
Courage without wisdom is mere recklessness, and as for strength… forgive me, but unless one reaches an extraordinary level, an individual's power alone is nothing more than brute force."
Despite Alaric's well-reasoned argument, Galen still looked unconvinced. With a helpless smile, Alaric simply shook his head.
"Well then, Your Highness, if you must doubt my abilities…"
Before he could finish speaking, a sharp cracking sound interrupted him, drawing everyone's attention.
They looked down to see a circular pattern of cracks spreading from beneath Alaric's left foot.
With the eerie indentation in the ground, shaped like the sole of his foot, it wasn't hard to deduce what had happened—Alaric had simply stepped down, shattering the stone pavement beneath him.
Galen's expression shifted from skepticism to shock.
This was the royal garden. The pathways were paved with the finest bluestone. To leave such a deep imprint with a single step was not something mere strength alone could achieve.
Now, he seriously suspected that beneath Alaric's mage robes lay the body of a monster.
"I… I apologize," Galen said, bowing deeply to Alaric. "Your strength is indeed remarkable. I am ashamed to have doubted you."
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