The Scarlet Crusade's Reckoning
When the Alliance and Horde severed contact, the Horde army trudged westward while the eighty-thousand-strong Scarlet Crusade established camp near Dalaran. A massive congregation of colonels and lieutenants swarmed around the main headquarters.
"What in the blazes are you doing? Planning a mutiny?" Mograine's fury blazed across his weathered features. These were his soldiers! When they'd nearly been annihilated by both Scourge and Horde at the battle's start, they'd been perfectly obedient. But now they emerged to challenge Duke? This was a direct slap to his authority!
"No! Marshal Mograine, we simply demand an answer from Lord Commander Edmund. Regardless of whether that answer pleases us, we remain soldiers of Lordaeron and the Alliance." An Alliance brigadier general, clearly elected as spokesman, delivered an impeccable salute before voicing everyone's burning question: "WHY DID WE LET THE HORDE ESCAPE!?"
Duke's eyes blazed with electric intensity, sweeping the crowd from left to right before raising his chin with deadly confidence: "Before answering your questions, let me pose one of my own—do I, Edmund Duke, strike you as a Horde sympathizer?"
Everyone froze, their faces flushing with embarrassment.
If Duke—who had personally ended two Alliance-Horde wars and earned legendary status by slaughtering millions of orcs—was a Horde traitor, then humanity might as well drown themselves in the nearest ocean.
"Impossible! You're humanity's greatest champion!"
"Sir, please don't jest with us!"
"We're not questioning your authority, but we can't sleep without understanding!"
"Exactly! Most of our homelands have been incinerated by orcs, our families butchered by their axes. Suddenly we're told not to attack these green-skinned murderers, and it's eating us alive!"
Mograine completely understood their anguish. Yesterday's enemy and enslaver had become today's potential ally. Nobody could stomach such a revolting transformation. But what if Duke took offense and abandoned Lordaeron in righteous fury?
Both Mograine and Abendis seethed with protective anger.
Duke waved his hand, halting their rising tempers, and smiled with dangerous calm: "According to your brilliant strategy, what should our next move be?"
Someone bellowed immediately: "First obliterate the Scourge, then capture those orc scum who dared murder prison guards and escape, and hang them all!"
Duke continued his interrogation: "Excellent. Next question—does anyone know the Scourge's troop strength?"
"Uh, a million?" came the conservative estimate.
"Forget one million! With a complete fleet and FFF flamethrowers, we'd incinerate ten million!" declared an obvious optimist.
At that moment, Duke's expression transformed instantly, becoming so terrifyingly grim that several officers stepped backward involuntarily.
Duke thrust one finger skyward with dramatic emphasis. "HAH! You have barely one hundred flamethrowers per ten thousand soldiers. Even if I provided ten thousand, it would be USELESS! Do you comprehend the Scourge's true numbers? ONE HUNDRED MILLION! At minimum!"
Duke's declaration struck the assembly thunderously. Every colonel and lieutenant shuddered simultaneously, then gasped in perfect, horrified unison.
"SERIOUSLY!?"
"That's IMPOSSIBLE!"
Duke's chin rose with imperial authority. "Precisely correct! The entire Eastern Kingdoms holds barely ten million living humans. But remember—creating undead soldiers doesn't require fresh corpses. For the Scourge, skeleton warriors are still warriors."
Duke abandoned all subtlety and delivered the crushing truth directly.
When the officers absorbed this revelation, they stood thunderstruck, rendered speechless for an agonizing eternity.
Duke waved his hand and roared: "I know this truth disgusts you, but the Scourge are precisely that vile! They'll violate every ancestor's resting place and transform them into soldiers to massacre the living. So we're not facing one or two million pathetic targets, but potentially hundreds of millions of skeleton warriors. If you don't want to drown in the Sea of the Dead and become part of their hellish ranks, then get down there and prepare for WAR!"
The officers scattered frantically, racing back to their squadrons and squads to announce this apocalyptic revelation. Soon, anguished exclamations and furious curses erupted throughout the barracks.
Mograine shifted uncomfortably: "Duke, thank you for your... directness."
"Nonsense! They needed to understand this brutal reality eventually. Otherwise, that doubt would fester in their hearts forever."
Abendis's facial muscles twitched uncontrollably: "Are there truly one hundred million skeleton soldiers?"
Duke raised his head toward the north with grim determination. "That's somewhat exaggerated. Arthas lacks sufficient liches and curse cultists to control that many skeleton soldiers. Ten million active undead is more realistic. But there will be a hundred million undead soldiers eventually, unless we..."
Duke's voice died abruptly.
That "unless" represented something barbarically cruel for Lordaeron's people—every town would need to exhume and incinerate their ancestors' remains.
Even if Lordaeron's citizens agreed to such sacrilege, the task was virtually impossible. The people had flourished on this land for 2,800 years.
Before Arthas murdered his father, Lordaeron boasted approximately six million souls. Calculating how many generations had lived and died across 2,800 years was staggering.
Even with the will to burn everything, their current manpower and resources were laughably inadequate.
Back in the command tent, Mograine asked with barely controlled panic: "What's our strategy now?"
Duke gestured across the military map, constantly repositioning chess pieces representing various towns' military strength. "Defeating Arthas's main force was excellent, but remember—the Scourge breeds faster than locusts. We must immediately contact every settlement in Lordaeron and consolidate all living forces. Those who should retreat must retreat, those who should defend will defend. We cannot allow the Scourge to expand indefinitely."
Seeing Duke's piece movements, both Mograine and Abendis looked utterly devastated. If anyone else had suggested this, they would have cursed him into the ground.
Duke completely evacuated Lordaeron City and withdrew all forces from Tirisfal Glades and Silverpine Forest to the North Coast. In the east, he abandoned the holy city of Stratholme entirely, pulling all troops to the easternmost Light's Hope Chapel and Tyr's Hand.
Nearly 2,000 kilometers of territory from east to west was surrendered to the Scourge in one catastrophic decision.
Mograine's eyelids twitched violently: "We can't use the Thondroril River as a defensive line..."
Duke interrupted: "Not if Kel'Thuzad has made his lair in the Cult of the Damned's stronghold..."
Every general in the tent paled again.
Several officers prepared to argue, but Duke produced his ultimate authority—Queen Calia's royal staff.
"In the name of the Alliance Commander and Queen Calia Menethil, I DEMAND absolute obedience to my orders. Those who refuse will face charges of DESERTION!"