Sylvanas's trickery was nothing compared to hers; she used the fragrance of flowers to mask her own rotting odor, and then installed a charm Magic Circle inside the villa.
Sylvanas, having lived for hundreds of years, was worldly-wise and experienced. In her eyes, Varian was just an infant. With her music and inflammatory words, she successfully lured King Varian into her trap.
One person's wisdom is, after all, limited.
King Varian was blindly confident, believing he had found the path to becoming a great King.
If they succeed, the Eastern Kingdoms will all fly the Alliance flag, and they'll also get to win the heart of a beautiful woman.
After a night of deep conversation, Varian, brimming with confidence, immediately set to action.
The first issue to address is the lack of a legitimate reason for the attack.
Attacking Undercity under the pretext of eliminating the Burning Legion is inappropriate, given that Varimathras was once Sylvanas's subordinate.
After much deliberation by the think tank, they finally decided to exonerate Duke Bolvar.
Thus, by the decree of King Varian, Duke Bolvar was portrayed as a hero who fought against the Scourge. At the critical moment when the Alliance and Horde were about to destroy Arthas, he was ambushed by the Plague of the Royal Apothecary Society Undercity, and both Bolvar and Dranosh perished.
Originally, Bolvar was portrayed as an unpardonable sinner.
Now that he's suddenly become a hero, Varian doesn't care about the people's reaction.
There were just a few more corpses at the gates of Stormwind City.
When the propaganda was being spread that Duke Bolvar was a villain, some Justice people stood up to oppose it, but their voices were of no use, Varian ordered them to be hanged.
A small group of clever people saw the wind was blowing in their favor and launched a fierce attack on Bolvar, fabricating many baseless accusations against him, which won the support of King Varian.
Once the Duke Bolvar was exonerated, these people were naturally sent to the gallows.
Under the oppressive rule of the Peace Dove, Stormwind City's ever-changing policies remained unaffected. With a reason to avenge Duke Bolvar, the Kingdom of Stormwind began another round of tyrannical taxation.
With an army of 100,000, the daily food consumption was astronomical.
The Kingdom of Stormwind's treasury was long empty, its numerous northern expeditions had failed, and the people were already overwhelmed by continuous exploitation.
But King Varian didn't care about the lives of ordinary people; his mind was filled with the desire to go down in history, achieve great deeds, and become a great King revered for all time, and he was willing to pay any price for it.
Under Varian's orders, the Peace Dove took coercive measures, and countless people handed over their last grain of food, with entire families hanging themselves hand in hand.
Even before the war began, the Kingdom of Stormwind was already in chaos, with countless refugees, starving corpses everywhere, fields lying fallow, and many towns nearly empty.
Even so, they still couldn't raise enough military rations.
With Varian's tacit approval, the Peace Dove resorted to the most brutal methods.
They turned the corpses of civilians into Tough Jerky to serve as military rations.
The people of one village after another were massacred, and the names of the people and the villages were crossed out, as if they had never existed in this world.
Since his last confrontation with the King, Archbishop Benedictus has become a marginalized figure, no longer qualified to participate in the power center of Stormwind City.
Benedictus is getting old and intends to retire from politics and spend the rest of his life quietly.
But recently, more and more people have been entering Stormwind Cathedral to pray. In the confessional, people are finally able to vent their hatred and curse King Varian.
The most polite sentence was:
May King Varian's soul never find peace.
Benedictus was shocked, only then realizing that something major had happened in the Kingdom of Stormwind.
"King Varian, what exactly do you want?"
Ignoring his own safety, Benedictus rushed to Stormwind Keep.
Initially, Benedictus was very polite and offered kind advice:
"King Majesty, Undercity is Horde territory, and Varimathras's betrayal is an internal matter for the Horde; the Alliance has no right to interfere."
King Varian did not want to answer, but Benedictus was highly respected, so he could only give a perfunctory reply:
"High Priest, Varimathras is Dreadlord of the Burning Legion. With the Legion invading, everyone has a responsibility to protect Azeroth. This time, the Alliance and the Horde will join forces to resist the Burning Legion. We cannot stand idly by."
Benedictus was slightly angered. "Your King, are you taking advantage of my incompetence? I am well aware of your ambitions."
Varian stood up, glared at the archbishop, and shouted:
"Since you understand everything, you should support my actions. After the Battle of Undercity, we will conquer Lordaeron, and then our army will march towards Silvermoon City. The Sunreavers family will once again become the masters of Silvermoon City, and the High Elves will return to the Alliance."
Benedictus, looking exhausted, patiently explained:
"King Majesty, you are too naive. The Burning Legion is far more advanced than our civilization. While we are still fighting with spears and shields, they are already capable of interstellar travel and have far too many methods we do not know. I suspect that Undercity has already set up a trap, waiting for you to walk right into it. We cannot take this risk."
Varian was startled upon hearing this. Benedictus's words were not without merit, and they resonated with him. He asked in confusion:
"High Priest, are you asking me to give up? Absolutely not! The Horde has suffered heavy losses, and new soldiers haven't been sent in yet. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
Benedictus, helpless, earnestly advised:
"Your King, if you truly wish to conquer Undercity, sending five thousand soldiers is sufficient. Don't gamble away our entire fortune."
Varian paced back and forth beside the throne, his mind in turmoil:
"No, absolutely not. Five thousand soldiers might be able to defeat Varimathras, but they can't drive out the Horde. What if Thrall comes to steal my spoils?"
Benedictus sighed, his expression filled with melancholy, feeling as if he had aged several years:
"Your King, you know Thrall's character. This is a conspiracy. Moreover, the Kingdom of Stormwind is too weak to sustain this war. It would be better to call it a day and focus on recuperation."
Varian's face flushed red, and he roared in anger:
"Are you trying to persuade me to give up, to abandon this great opportunity to achieve great things, and to become a mediocre King? Everything involves taking risks. If we were all as timid and hesitant as you, when would we ever be able to defeat the Evil Horde and unify Azeroth?"
Benedictus shook his head, almost crying, "Your King, please open your eyes and have pity on the people."
Varian scoffed, "To achieve something, you must make sacrifices. Temporary suffering is for the sake of a lasting legacy. History will remember my greatness."
Then he roared to encourage himself:
"I am Varian, I am the Chosen One, this war will surely be won, I will become a human emperor as great as Thoradin, and no one can stop my determination."
Benedictus fell silent, a wave of sorrow washing over him.
History has proven countless times that greatness is forged upon the suffering of the people, and to live in the same era as a great emperor is a misfortune for all.
Varian's autocratic rule meant that even if he succeeded by chance, it was still the common people who suffered.