"Well, that's all the troops we have now," Lothar said, clapping his hands to bring everyone back to attention. "I know it takes a country a good long while to switch from peacetime to war footing. Thank you, kings, for your Herculean efforts and unwavering support. What we need to chew on now is how to use these troops to rack up a string of glorious victories. I'm not asking for a knockout blow to wipe out the entire Horde in one go, but I hope to lead everyone to keep winning, from one triumph to the next!"
All the kings and generals immediately burst into applause, a thunderous ovation.
At this point, Duke suddenly let out a chuckle. "Respected Commander, it seems that's not all the troops you have now."
"Who else?" Lothar looked utterly bewildered. Every troop the seven human kingdoms had promised, save for those deployed on the North Stream Coast, was right here. The dwarves were still bogged down with their own problems; there was no way they had spare forces.
"How could you forget about the high elves?" Duke asked, a radiant smile on his face, a hint of pure glee in his eyes. Anyone could see he was happy as a clam.
"High elves?" The kings exchanged confused glances.
"Impossible! Didn't they refuse to join the alliance?" a king muttered, disbelief etched on his face.
"That snot-nosed congressman!" King Aiden of Alterac spat out venom without hesitation, clearly still holding a grudge.
Antonidas seemed to recall something, stroking his long white beard. "If anyone else were the commander, it would be impossible. But the commander is you… Anduin Lothar. That changes everything. Have you forgotten? The high elves signed an ancient covenant with us humans, way back in the time of Emperor Thoradin."
"Ancient covenant…" Lothar mumbled to himself, a light bulb flickering on in his mind. He suddenly remembered that forgotten piece of history. But there had been so much on his plate recently, and the high elves had been so cold and aloof before, Lothar had almost completely blacked it out.
Antonidas, old but sharp as a tack, stroked his white beard, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he looked at the agitated Duke. "Haha, I think the two commanders should go greet them."
Antonidas was indeed shrewd. He knew that Silvermoon Council member Dalkan's performance on the day the Alliance was formed had rubbed most of the kings the wrong way. For the sake of appearances, most of the kings would definitely not go. And it certainly wasn't the Sun King himself coming, so it was perfectly understandable that they wouldn't roll out the red carpet.
Just then, a sentry burst through the headquarters' gate, panting. "The elves are coming!"
"Oh, we knew that already," Lothar said calmly, trying to play it cool.
"You knew that?!" The sentry, clearly from Kul Tiras, had a bitter tone in his voice. "We only got the report from the patrol ship when the elven ship was practically within five nautical miles!"
Lothar didn't blame the poor, out-of-breath sentry. "It's alright. We also have Nagas and murlocs under the Deputy Commander's command patrolling the sea area off Southshore."
Upon hearing this, the sentry retreated, a visible sense of relief washing over him.
Lothar looked around the room. "Well, Your Majesties, Your Excellencies, the arrival of the elves represents the attitude of a powerful country on the continent. If you are willing, follow me to welcome the envoy of the Sun King Anasterian. The rest of your majesties, you can rest here for a while."
After a moment of thought, Llane, Daelin, and Antonidas finally followed Lothar, Duke, and Turalyon to the dock.
Daelin, though not one to show off, was intensely curious about how many ships the elves would bring to him, the admiral and commander-in-chief of the naval fleet.
Llane simply wanted to see the Alliance grow stronger, but no one could quite fathom what Antonidas was thinking.
At this moment, over twenty sleek speedboats, unmistakably high elven in design, were cutting across the sea like arrows, heading straight for the port.
"Hahahaha! I can't wait to see those humans squirm! I just had my boys completely dodge their patrol ships, slipping through the cracks in their network! I mean, it's broad daylight, visibility's great, they won't mistake our high elf ship for some broken-down orc tub, right?"
A calm, level voice interrupted the first speaker. "My apologies, but the humans spotted us ten nautical miles ago."
"How is that possible?!" the owner of the first voice shrieked, utterly flabbergasted.
"My intuition tells me it's true," the calm voice replied. "Though I found no human reconnaissance ships, I could feel eyes on me, more than one pair. There's no mistake."
Walking out of the command center and coming to the mountaintop overlooking the sea, everyone gazed towards the elven speedboats, slicing through the waves towards the distant port.
Compared to the towering hulls of human ships, the elves' clippers were flatter, sleeker. Their slender, streamlined hulls were crafted from hard starwood, found only in the Quel'Thalas forest – not only incredibly tough but lighter than most shipbuilding timber.
The hull wasn't just carved with exquisite, arc-shaped patterns; it was also bristling with dozens of magically enchanted glaive throwers along its edges. These massive, triangular glaive throwers, each composed of three sharp cones, packed a punch no less powerful than ordinary human cannons, and their range was impressive.
"Elven destroyers," naval specialist Daelin Proudmoore murmured softly, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Faster and lighter than our Kul Tiran scout ships – they carry fewer weapons, but that also gives them considerable speed. This is a good, no, an excellent addition to our fleet!"
After saying this, the Alliance Navy Admiral frowned. "But this is… too few, isn't it? I only count eight light speedboats and sixteen ultra-light reconnaissance ships. That's barely the configuration of two battle groups!"
"Perhaps there's more beyond the horizon?" Turalyon offered soothingly from Lothar's other side.
"No!" Admiral Daelin shook his head with absolute certainty. "That's not their style. If nothing unexpected happens, this is all they've brought."
There was an indescribable disappointment in Daelin's tone. Perhaps Duke's earlier generosity had raised his expectations too high, and the greater the expectation, the greater the letdown. Especially after having to split his forces to garrison the waters off the North Stream Coast, Daelin was practically starving for more warships.
He knew, deep in his bones, that protecting the entire coastline of the northern continent with just this meager fleet would be an impossible task.
"Twenty-four ships still means our fleet has increased its combat power by twenty-four ships," Duke said, trying to comfort Admiral Daelin. "As you just said, this is at least an excellent addition to our fleet."