Lordaeron.
When Arthas returned, countless commoners threw flowers, which danced in the air. Dressed in his armor, Arthas looked up at the slowly falling crimson petals. He reached out and caught one; the flower still bloomed with vitality in his hand. Looking at the fanatically cheering citizens, his heart stirred slightly. Perhaps these were his true supporters.
Marlene followed quietly by Arthas's side. Having decided to follow him, she had even given up her title in Stormwind. By following Arthas, she could gain much more!
"Hey, being so sentimental isn't your style, Prince." Chromie suddenly appeared on Arthas's shoulder, looking small and cute in her female gnome form. It was just that in this form, it would probably be difficult to accommodate Arthas's massive member, wouldn't it? Wouldn't it tear her apart?
"I'm not being sentimental, just a little emotional. The pressure of being a prince is immense. Humans aren't like Dragons, who have a Dragon King to lead them with no dissent from below. The human nobles scheme against each other, which will consume a great deal of my energy and time. It's these commoners who are the purest."
Arthas didn't hate all nobles, just the greedy ones who did nothing of value. A man like Tirion, who was already a count but still fought on the front lines, was what a noble lord should be.
Without lingering, Chromie returned to her own spot.
Doing that in public was actually a bit improper. It would, however, add to Arthas's romantic legends. A man, especially a powerful hero, how could he not have a few wives?
Arriving at the royal council chamber, almost all the nobles who had not participated in the war were present. Those who had fought also sent representatives to attend the meeting. Today's meeting was about the High Elves' request for aid.
The Horde and the trolls had joined forces to attack Quel'Thalas, a scenario the High Elves had never imagined. The Horde had bypassed Aerie Peak, moving through the deep mountains, and after being resupplied with food by local trolls, they reached the Ghostlands and launched their attack on Quel'Thalas.
All the outer defenses had fallen, and the elves were forced to retreat. Pitting their slender frames against the burly orcs was truly suicidal.
Bang! Arthas pushed open the heavy doors, an aura of grim killing intent swirling around him. Behind him followed the Green Dragon Ambassador, Emeriss, and the Red Dragon Ambassador, Keristrasza. He drew his longsword, planted its tip on the ground, and knelt on one knee. Only after paying his respects did he stand up.
"Father, I have not failed my mission. I have resolved the Naga threat. During this time, I was attacked by a group of pirates. They said they were hired, and they had gold coins from Shangke Manor."
Handing the coins to a guard to be presented, Arthas looked coldly at Sir Shangke, whose face was pale and who was gritting his teeth at him. "On my way back, I saw no shortage of Sir Shangke's handiwork. Your influence is vast, enough to subvert the kingdom.
You even dared to withhold supplies from the army! If not for the support of Lady Brigitte of the Abbendis family, my soldiers might have starved. The soldiers you dispatched even colluded with the Naga in an attempt to assassinate me. Hmph, I was also targeted for assassination on the battlefield. Sir Shangke, you owe me an explanation!"
"Heh, since when did Your Highness become so sharp-tongued? I admit my son had a conflict with you. But you cannot hide the fact that you colluded with the Naga! How much blood of Lordaeron's people is on the hands of those Naga? And now you are cooperating with them. Your Highness, have you forgotten your duty?" Not only did Sir Shangke not admit to anything, he turned the tables.
The crowd began to whisper. A direct confrontation like this was a rare sight. The struggle between an old-guard noble and the crown prince—this was getting good.
"I... I think what Sir Shangke says... has some merit."
"Heh, I support His Highness the Prince."
"Quiet! No clamor!"
Arthas's longsword pointed at Sir Shangke.
"I risked my life on the battlefield while you stabbed the soldiers who were bleeding to protect our home in the back. You can even do such a thing, are you even human? Sir Shangke, I, as a Paladin of the Silver Hand and Crown Prince of Lordaeron, challenge you to a duel!" With that, he threw a white glove in the man's face.
Slap! The glove struck Sir Shangke's old face, making it sting faintly. Disputes between nobles were usually resolved through duels. Everything was settled on the dueling platform, life and death be damned. Once a duel was accepted, it was a fight to the death. One could strike a fatal blow or show mercy.
Instantly, the nobles in the council chamber gasped. Some thought Arthas was brave, while others thought he was shameless.
Why? You, a vigorous, strong young man, challenging an old man with one foot in the grave? Damn, how could you even think of that!
However, most people wore expressions of schadenfreude. This drama was getting more and more interesting.
"Heh, Your Highness, I admit you are very brave. But have you no shame? A young man like you challenging an old codger like me to a duel. Are you bullying me, or is this the code of a Paladin? This kingdom was built by the hard work of our ancestors. Even if we have no great merits, we have toiled. Your Highness, let me offer you a piece of advice: young men shouldn't be so arrogant!"
The old Sir Shangke was so angry he laughed. His every word escalated the situation. An old schemer like him would never miss an opportunity to press his advantage.
"If a young man isn't arrogant, can he still be called a young man? Old man, I've had enough of you! I hate backstabbers the most. You and your son are cut from the same cloth! Stormwind fell resisting the orc invasion, and not only did you not lend a hand, you even bullied them, selling Stormwind's commoners to work in the mines until they died of exhaustion.
Compared to you, I am indeed not as cruel. Do you accept or not? Just one word!" Arthas stopped beating around the bush. He would use the most direct method to force his hand.
"Hmph, I'm afraid I must decline." Sir Shangke snorted. This war of words was meaningless. He couldn't and wouldn't dare to duel Arthas.
Terenas watched his son's naive tactics and shook his head slightly. "Alright, this matter ends here. The issue with Roden will be handled by Arthas. Now, let's discuss the matter of Quel'Thalas."
"Father, let me handle this matter. The Alliance's forces are already stretched thin and cannot be drawn upon further. If we dispatch more troops from Lordaeron, then when the Horde attacks, Lordaeron will be defenseless."
Arthas proactively took on this task. It was a thankless job that no one wanted. Succeed and there would be no reward; fail and one might be slandered.