The Future Marshal

At this point in time, Reginald Windsor was merely an ordinary young soldier, a knight candidate no different from the countless rank-and-file troops under Anduin Lothar who had never experienced real war and would be killed by an orc's axe in an instant.

Even in the future, Reginald was not some overwhelmingly powerful warrior. He could handle ordinary strong opponents well enough, but against fierce figures like successive Horde chieftains, or even genuinely renowned heroes, he would be taken down in a single move.

Nor did he possess exceptional leadership. In the World of Warcraft game before Duke's transmigration, he had no particularly dazzling achievements, and even his promotions seemed to have come from simply accumulating seniority.

Yet Reginald Windsor, of all people, became a marshal and, after his death, was hailed as a hero by the people, the soldiers, and the players.

Why?

Because of his limitless loyalty to Stormwind, the greatest human kingdom on this continent.

This was a story from several decades after this point in time. One day, the king of the Stormwind Kingdom mysteriously vanished, and Windsor noticed strange changes among Stormwind's nobles—they became ever more indulgent in pleasure and no longer cared about any of the Stormwind Kingdom's territories beyond Stormwind itself.

This directly forced the people across those troubled lands to fend for themselves. In Westfall, Gryan Stoutmantle formed the Westfall People's Militia; meanwhile, in Duskwood, Duke Althea Ebonlocke established the Night Watch, guarding the people of Darkshire alone.

When Blackrock orcs pressed ever closer on the Burning Steppes north of Lakeshire, and rumors even emerged of black dragons, Windsor could no longer sit still. Remembering his duty, he voluntarily requested to go to the Burning Steppes and command the Alliance forces against the Blackrock orcs and the threat of the black dragons.

However, Countess Katrana Prestor, who wielded considerable influence in the council, firmly opposed his proposal. Her influence even swayed the decision of Duke Bolvar Fordragon, the regent at the time. After completely falling out with the countess, he came alone to the Alliance camp in the Burning Steppes—effectively exiled by Stormwind—and took charge of the war against the Blackrock orcs.

Yet Stormwind never sent another reinforcement to the Burning Steppes after that. Marshal Windsor was also captured by Dark Iron dwarves during a raid. Alone in his cell, the marshal could only piece together the causes and effects of everything. Once he connected all the threads, he discovered that the greatest point of suspicion was Countess Katrana Prestor, who had mysteriously appeared in Stormwind on the eve of the king's disappearance.

But he had no evidence.

When we found Marshal Windsor in the Black Iron Prison, he refused to come out and even cursed Duke Bolvar Fordragon as a complete idiot. In truth, now that he had figured everything out, the Dark Iron dwarves' prison was safer instead. It was not that he feared death; he feared dying before he could expose the black dragon's plot.

When players like Duke found a mysterious note in Blackrock Depths and handed it to Marshal Windsor, he became excited. He saw hope. He had found evidence, hope for unraveling the mystery. He told the players to retrieve those two tablets, then charged out of that sunless prison. He was going to Stormwind—for the Stormwind Kingdom, for the Alliance—to expose Countess Katrana Prestor's true face.

Entering Stormwind, witnessed by the five great heroes of the Second War, he regained the trust of his old friends. Along the way, every soldier dropped to one knee in salute.

He entered Stormwind Keep and used the tablets obtained from the Dark Iron dwarves to force Countess Katrana Prestor to reveal her true form—Princess Onyxia, the black dragon. The enraged black dragon dealt Marshal Windsor a fatal blow, then flew away.

The awakened Duke Bolvar Fordragon single-handedly wiped out the black dragonspawn guards around him, who had taken human form. Yet none of it could save Marshal Windsor's life. A hero had finally reached his end, smiling as he faced his destiny without fear.

Remembering that tear-jerking piece of "history" from the game, Duke could not help but feel melancholy as he sank into thought.

Turning to look out the window, the first ray of dawn seemed to have only just brushed past Duke's hair. Though he had only transmigrated here a few days ago, he felt that every moment had been spent in urgency and unease.

Duke suddenly smiled.

He had once thought that simply hearing names like Stormwind, Karazhan, and the Dark Portal in the Warcraft movie, hearing those lines filled with memories, would already make him happy and satisfied.

Because over countless days and nights, he had measured every inch of this land with the feet of a goofy mage named Little Demon Feifei.

Even as time flew by, even though this once world-leading game could no longer keep up with the times and was mocked by younger players as outdated, he still loved her.

Whenever he awoke from dreams at midnight, she was what he dreamed of.

When he could not sleep, he did not look at the moon outside his window. Instead, he logged into the game, mounted his beloved pure-white gryphon, flew into the skies, and looked down upon this beautiful continent.

He had once thought that if the Warcraft movie performed poorly at the box office, there might never be a sequel. Not only had he bought ten or twenty tickets himself, he had also gathered his old friends to watch it together.

Because she had accompanied me through such long and wonderful years...

He had once thought this was the best way to protect her.

"But now, I've found a better way to protect her." Duke's self-muttering was almost a whisper.

He raised his head and watched the rising sun. Duke knew very well that, as he was now, he had no ability whatsoever to fight Sargeras, who had already obtained Medivh's body and the Guardian's immense magic.

Even all the forces on the continent combined might not be enough.

The opening of the Dark Portal was already irreversible.

Sunlight shone upon Duke's face, warm and comforting. He seemed to feel destiny's pulse once again.

The sun would rise day after day. The only thing he could grasp was the course of fate after the Dark Portal opened...

At that, Duke took a deep breath, raised the list in his hand, and pointed at Reginald Windsor's name. "Hello, Captain Garcia. I want him."

"Him?" Garcia's expression turned somewhat strange. Of course, the reason was Duke, because he had noticed that Duke's reaction had become unusually intense upon seeing Windsor's name.

"Is there a problem?" Duke asked.

"Uh, since his name is on the list, it means Lord Lothar considers him a reliable and capable young man. I have no objections. I'm merely curious as to why you chose him."

The charlatan Duke smiled. "Because I sensed the bonds of fate!"