"Can you guarantee that?" Galen pressed again.
Stromgarde's strength was not what it used to be. If Lordaeron were to truly attack, they wouldn't be able to hold out. Moreover, the Alterac Kingdom was surely finished. Perenolde had simply fled, abandoning even his wife and son, and vanished without a trace.
Perenolde had betrayed the Alliance, leading to the attack on Lordaeron, an act that would absolutely not be forgiven. If the Alterac Kingdom was destroyed, the next one would be the neighboring Stromgarde. He couldn't afford not to be cautious.
"Of course. As long as you do not attack Lordaeron, I will not dispatch troops against any kingdom. There is nothing that cannot be resolved through negotiation.
War is only the last resort. If everyone focuses on peaceful development, there naturally won't be too many problems. My focus will be on combating the demonic invasion; I have no time for your political intrigues,"
Arthas snorted, remaining perfectly composed from beginning to end.
Galen wanted to press further, but the person next to him tugged at his sleeve and nodded in a certain direction. Looking over, he saw a tall, beautiful woman walk in.
She had a lovely face, a sexy and tall figure, and was clad in armor and battle boots. It looked like the green dragon ambassador, Emeriss, but at this moment, Emeriss had changed from her elven form to a human one, so he didn't recognize her at first.
Seeing Emeriss standing quietly behind Arthas, Galen swallowed the words he was about to say. His face turned red, and he almost choked with anger.
That was a green dragon! Her performance on the battlefield was there for all to see; the Orcs couldn't withstand a single blast of her breath. Arthas represented Lordaeron, it was true, and wouldn't openly attack an ally, but a Dragon was a different matter.
To be on a Dragon's bad side was a fate that even the archmages of Dalaran could not escape, let alone the greatly weakened Stromgarde. If he didn't act subservient now, when would he?
"Since there are no more questions, let us move on to the next issue. Standing in our way is the Horde's Bleeding Hollow Clan.
They are guarding the path to the Swamp of Sorrows. The main Horde army has already gathered in the Blasted Lands, preparing for a decisive battle with us!" Sir Lothar said, pointing at the map.
The battle situation was ever-changing. He had not advanced rashly but had pushed forward steadily, securing each victory and forcing the Horde into a position where they had to face them head-on, with no further room to retreat.
The Horde had already lost a large number of troops in the surprise attack on Lordaeron. If a stalemate occurred, it would put immense pressure on their logistics, and their collapse would only be a matter of time.
Arthas just listened from the side without offering an opinion, watching as several generals argued heatedly, spittle flying as they each proposed their own plans.
Sir Lothar did not make a hasty judgment. He simply listened to all opinions, considered the feasibility of each plan, and, most importantly, balanced the strength of the allied forces.
That was the crucial part. Otherwise, constantly sending one kingdom's soldiers to their deaths was something no one could tolerate.
"Prince Arthas, is there anything you would like to say?" Lothar asked Arthas, a rare occurrence. It seemed he was having trouble choosing. A case of decision paralysis?
"No, I don't know much about military campaigns. My previous victories were largely thanks to the command of my adjutant, Marlene. I am here to learn. You are the commander; you make the decision," Arthas said, offering no suggestions.
In his view, it was all just a matter of how to deal with the Orcs at the lowest possible cost.
"Oh? So all those past stories were just empty fame?" Prince Galen sneered. They were both princes, so why was everyone around them discussing Arthas, while he wasn't even considered part of the background!
"It's because of people like you that the Alliance's progress is being slowed down. Tsk, if you want to make a name for yourself, then go kill some Orcs and build your reputation, instead of whining here like a good-for-nothing.
Glory is earned by oneself, not bestowed by others. I'm not happy with you. Don't give me that passive-aggressive attitude again, or else, heh heh." Arthas retorted without holding back. He wasn't going to put up with that nonsense.
Facing the menacing Arthas, Galen shrank back. Seemingly feeling that this was humiliating, he forced himself to shout, "Or else what! You'll kill me?"
Arthas raised his index finger and wagged it, an expression of disdain on his face.
"I won't attack a member of the Alliance. But as for you, I could certainly beat you up so you're bedridden for half a month. Some people play dead as soon as a decisive battle approaches.
They have no sense of honor. If you don't even dare to face the Horde, what right do you have to be king? My father often said that King Danath was a wise king. How could he have such a useless son?"
"You!" Galen was about to say more but was pulled back by his men. If he continued, a fight might break out.
"Alright, alright, stop arguing. This is the Alliance. We should be working together to deal with the Horde, not fighting amongst ourselves. These are minor issues.
The priority right now is dealing with the Orcs. Prince Galen, you will lead your troops to engage the Bleeding Hollow Clan and open a path for the Alliance into the Blasted Lands. Any problem with that?" Lothar had to separate the two. If they were to fight together, an even more troublesome situation might arise.
"No problem," Prince Galen snorted. He put on a brave face, but inwardly he was terrified. Emeriss's oppressive aura was making him sweat profusely. The Dragon was clearly not to be trifled with.
After the meeting ended, Arthas returned to his camp, where Muradin had just arrived with his Dwarves.
Khaz Modan had been under siege for a long time, preventing the Dwarves from getting out and the Orcs from getting in, resulting in a stalemate.
During this time, a large amount of ore and immovable weapons were seized by the Orcs, and the Dwarves also suffered heavy losses. For this siege against the Horde, the hot-tempered Dwarves had brought their elite troops to join the battle.
"It's good to see you, Muradin." Arthas always held a certain respect for Muradin.
He was a true warrior and an elder, at least more of a teacher than Uther had been. A teacher not only imparts knowledge to a student but also needs to guide their growth and prevent them from going astray.
If Muradin had been there during the Stratholme incident, Arthas's fate might have been much better.
"Haha, good to see you, Prince. The beer you sent over was great. Old Muradin is very happy," Muradin laughed heartily, his dwarven frankness on full display. He looked like someone you could easily befriend.