Under King Terenas's rule, Lordaeron had grown ever stronger, its arrogance unchecked, seemingly poised to swallow the world. Its heir, Arthas, was now synonymous with kindness, compassion, integrity, courage... He possessed almost every virtue imaginable, and this orc uprising was his moment to show his mettle.
Lordaeron stood at the height of its glory. No one could have imagined that it would fall so swiftly within just a few short years.
Even a prophet who foresaw such an outcome would scarcely dare believe it.
Of course, Rex could not say any of this to King Genn. Even if he did, no one would believe him. His eyes bright, Rex gazed at the father he had acquired and continued, "We won't be sending troops to Dalaran for nothing. Dalaran will handle the logistics, and on top of that, they'll contribute fifty thousand gold coins toward our military expenses."
His father remained adamant. Rex had spent ages delivering his lengthy arguments, while King Genn had been sparing with his words. He had spoken fewer than ten sentences, each only a few words long: "No." "Absolutely not."
Rex could only tempt him with a profit. Fifty thousand gold coins was no small sum. This was a desperate measure, a condition Rex had added himself; Jaina had never agreed to it. That was why he had not mentioned it at the outset. Upon hearing this, the previously resolute King Genn did not immediately object. Instead, he fell into thought.
Seeing his reaction, Rex knew he had a chance and hurried on. "We won't need to deploy Gilneas's regular army to aid Dalaran. The Knights of the Round Table I established will be more than capable."
"Very well. Let Cecil lead the Knights of the Round Table to reinforce Dalaran." Whether King Genn had finally yielded to the fifty thousand gold coins or Rex's earlier words had struck a chord, he spoke again after a moment's consideration.
Rex had achieved his goal of getting Gilneas to reinforce Dalaran, yet there was not a trace of joy on his face. Why? Because his father had simply excluded him. Rex had been full of confidence, ready to lead the troops himself and face that vicious orc again. Their battle two years ago had taught him a harsh lesson. Over the past two years, Rex had trained desperately, and he was no longer the inexperienced novice he had once been. Just when it was time to seek out that vicious orc and settle the score, he had been left out.
"Father, I should lead the troops to Dalaran myself. Only then will Dalaran take us seriously," Rex said.
"No." King Genn returned to being sparing with his words.
"Why?" Rex blurted out, then immediately regretted it. He had already realized the reason. He was still young, after all, and sometimes his emotions got the better of him.
"Rex, you are Gilneas's Heir Apparent. Have you forgotten the danger you encountered on your return from Dalaran two years ago? Gilneas has only one prince—you. If anything happened to you, the entire kingdom would be thrown into turmoil. Even Dalaran's destruction would matter less than your safety," King Genn said with concern.
Those words warmed Rex's heart, but even as he was moved, he did not forget his goal. He had to take part in this mission to aid Dalaran. King Genn's words confirmed his suspicion: as Heir Apparent, he could not take risks lightly. His eyes shifted, and he spoke again. "Father, you're still in your prime. Giving Gilneas another prince would be easy enough. This mission to aid Dalaran won't be too dangerous. Even King Terenas of Lordaeron dares to send his Heir Apparent, Arthas. If Arthas dares to go, why shouldn't I? Even if you admit you're inferior to Terenas, Father, I will never admit that I'm inferior to Arthas."
A provocation. An utterly blatant provocation.
"How could I possibly be inferior to Terenas?" King Genn looked proud and aloof, refusing to concede any such thing. Watching the agitated Rex, he gave him a look that was almost a smile. He had seen through Rex's crude provocation at once. His father's gaze made Rex uncomfortable all over. Rex knew his attempt was rather obvious, but proud men would fall for this sort of thing even when they recognized it for what it was.
"Rex, if you want to lead the troops yourself, that can be arranged." King Genn's opening words sounded promising, but Rex showed no delight. Anyone hearing that would know a condition was sure to follow. It was a classic case of raising someone's hopes before dashing them.
"As long as you can last twenty moves against Rachel, I'll allow you to go." King Genn finally laid out his condition, and Rex's face fell. Rachel was a Hero Rank expert, a Hero Rank warrior. He belonged to the same generation as Rex's maternal grandfather, and age had greatly diminished his stamina. His fighting strength was no longer what it had been at his peak.
But he was not someone who had only just reached Hero Rank. He had stood at its pinnacle. Back in their day, Rachel and Rex's maternal grandfather, both Hero Rank experts, had awed all the Seven Human Kingdoms with their might. Humanity had no shortage of Hero Rank experts; the fact that those two had inspired such awe spoke volumes about their strength. Even now, Rachel's fighting prowess was beyond that of an ordinary Hero Rank expert. If the rank were divided into stages, Rex reckoned he would still have the strength of a mid-stage Hero Rank expert.
Rex had not seen him at all in recent years. He had heard that Rachel was preparing to stake his life on one final attempt to break through his bottleneck before his allotted years ran out. If he could reach Demigod, his lifespan would naturally be extended. Failure, of course, would mean death. Yet today, King Genn had brought him into this.
"Isn't Master Rachel preparing to break through his bottleneck? How would he have the time?" Rex asked in surprise.
"You needn't concern yourself with that," King Genn interrupted.
"Twenty moves won't do. That's too many. Ten at most," Rex began bargaining like a merchant.
"Ten will do." King Genn generously nodded his agreement. In his view, Rex would not last even ten moves. He had already seen Rachel defeat Cecil, who was at the peak of the ninth rank, in just three moves, knocking the weapon from his hand. However gifted his son might be, he had only reached the ninth rank two years ago and was still far inferior to Cecil. His defeat was certain.
(End of chapter)
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