Inquiry

Although the idea of subjugating this group of Gnolls and utilizing them to serve the Kingdom of Lordaeron had already taken root, such a decision—which conflicted with the mainstream values of current society—was not something Alvin, a "child" not yet eight years old, could decide on his own. He would at least need to persuade his teacher, Archbishop Faol.

Furthermore, even if his teacher were truly convinced and willing to let him accept the allegiance of these Gnolls, how would they prove their value to the Kingdom of Lordaeron and to him? How could he show the world that the second prince of Lordaeron was not a fool or a madman, but someone genuinely considering the interests of the kingdom?

The only thing Alvin could think of was to have them act as guides after the Harvest Festival, helping the kingdom militarily integrate the various Gnoll clans and Kobold groups within Lordaeron. This would clear away hidden domestic threats while simultaneously reducing the potential casualties faced by the kingdom's soldiers.

Adding the variable of Gnolls, while potentially helping the kingdom's army achieve its goals more smoothly during the clearing and training exercises in half a year, would still require a certain amount of manpower to oversee these beasts who might rebel. Furthermore, once Gnolls were added to his forces, the logistical supplies that needed to be allocated would also increase.

Whether it was the deployment of troops or the distribution of supplies, these variables would impact the kingdom's original plans. Such strategic decision-making was not something a prince could currently determine.

Therefore, at this moment, Alvin had no intention of playing mind games with this cunning shaman. He needed to know what the other party could bring to the Kingdom of Lordaeron, while simultaneously considering how to persuade the Archbishop—who could influence his father—to accept his suggestion and let the Gnolls become vassals of Lordaeron.

From their previous contact, it was clear that this shaman valued his own life and the safety of his kin highly. Otherwise, he would not have erupted in anger when the Goblin merchant threatened to feed them to the dogs, nor would he have surrendered without hesitation upon realizing his status as a prince.

Perhaps he should be more anxious than I am? Recalling the Gnoll shaman's specific behavior earlier, Alvin felt his heart lighten, and he gradually eased his somewhat impatient mood.

Because the incident had been sudden, the interrogation room they were in had only been given a simple cleaning. Although the guards had tried their best to tidy up, the air still carried a pungent, fishy stench.

The somewhat acrid smell made the boy frown slightly. He sat on a high chair, looking up at the Gnoll shaman whose expression was difficult to discern, and got straight to the point: "State your name, Gnoll."

"Respected Highness, I am Logul, a shaman from the Maw-Claw Clan."

Facing the prince who held the power of life and death over them all, the Gnoll dared not hide anything. Before Alvin could continue his questioning, he spilled everything like beans, recounting how they had encountered the Goblin caravan and been captured by mercenaries.

However, this instead piqued Alvin's curiosity. A clan of Gnolls plus a large number of Kobolds had actually been finished off by a single caravan? Even if that caravan had hired hundreds of mercenaries, it shouldn't have ended this way.

One had to know that a Gnoll clan was counted in the hundreds at the very least, and this group of Gnolls included a clever shaman like Logul! Given the intelligence he had displayed in front of him, he shouldn't have led his kin into a battle with no hope of victory.

Therefore, there were only two possibilities: first, under the circumstances, there was another Gnoll with a higher status in the clan than this shaman who had initiated the battle; second, there was an unknown variable hidden among the caravan's guards, causing these Gnolls, who had always been invincible in the Alterac Mountains, to fall.

"I am very curious about what was so special about that caravan that it could defeat a clan of Gnolls and the large group of Kobolds that were your vassals?"

Alvin stared intently at the shaman tied to the rack, asking his question. He really wanted to know the answer, because as things stood, that so-called caravan had already entered the heart of Lordaeron. With their combat power, they could very likely bring unnecessary trouble to the kingdom.

"There were many battle-hardened warriors among them, no different from the fiercest fighters in our tribe. There were even five mid-level mages among them who could use arcane power; the ice and fire that erupted from their hands directly shattered the morale of my tribesmen."

Facing the prince's inquiry, Logul lowered the head he had been holding high. This failure was a tremendous humiliation to him. He could not forgive himself for having acted as a wise man only to have his judgment clouded by hot-headedness, leading to a defeat caused by attacking without first scouting the opponent's true strength.

Suddenly, the Gnoll leader seemed to think of something. He lifted his head abruptly, his eyes flashing with a sharp light: "Right, Your Highness, I remember that those warriors all wore uniform breastplates and greaves. I suspect they were the private soldiers of some great noble from the south."

"The south?"

Alvin raised his right hand to stroke his chin, falling into thought. A "caravan" intending to cross the Alterac Mountains, powerful combat strength, refined and uniform equipment, plus mages who were mysterious and unfathomable to commoners—the answer was already obvious: Tiffin Ellerian, and the group of minor nobles and merchants heading north from Stormwind City before the Orcs arrived.

Although Alvin knew in his heart that the battle at Stormwind City before the end of this year would end with the assassination of the King and the defeat of humanity, he still hoped that the Kingdom of Stormwind could hold out a little longer, buying more time for the Kingdom of Lordaeron to prepare for the coming war and logistical mobilization.

Of course, if King Llane could change history and avoid the fate of dying at the hands of Garona, he would also raise his hands in celebration. A general's success is built on ten thousand bones; war was more cruel and ruthless than anyone imagined. Compared to a great war with the Orcs, he preferred that Lordaeron continue to develop with steady steps until the day he was ready.

However, those things were not what he should be concerned with at this moment. If the sky fell, the tall ones would naturally hold it up. He was still just a child under eight years old; no matter how he prayed in his heart, he could not change the situation in Stormwind City thousands of miles away. Thinking of this, he smoothed out his chaotic thoughts and looked back at the tall Gnoll shaman; he needed the other party to prove his value with actions.

"If I order you to lead your kin to assist in rounding up all the scattered Gnoll and Kobold groups within Lordaeron, how much military cooperation do you need, and how long will it take you to do it?"

The boy's youthful voice echoed in the enclosed interrogation room. Overlapping with the echoes, his words were slightly blurred, but it did not affect the passion in the Gnoll shaman's heart in the slightest. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for!

As long as he could succeed, he and his clan would be rid of the days of migrating everywhere in the cold snowy mountains and fleeing from human armies, finally gaining true peace and tranquility. Perhaps he might even be able to rely on the power of Lordaeron to teach that bunch of idiots who only knew how to slaughter a lesson!