A great victory is followed by a great purge, and a great defeat is followed by a great purge.
This has been the case since ancient times.
War is one of the ways to redistribute social wealth, but it does not create social wealth in itself.
Remember, here are the key points.
The so-called war fortune is nothing more than robbing other people's things. What you get is what is already there, rather than something that appears out of thin air.
In the long war between humans and orcs, under the high pressure of death, everyone was selfless in order to survive.
But now, the war has basically been won, and the people are still immersed in the joy of the alliance's victory. The nobles with superior IQs have been sensitive to the change in the direction of the wind.
Money, the root of evil!
In order to defeat the tribe, how much heaven and earth were laid waste, how much labor went to the battlefield, how much materials were recruited, and how much power was confiscated.
It doesn't matter, everything is for survival, as long as the orcs can be driven away, these are nothing.
But now that the orcs have been defeated, can they return everything they donated to us?
Two hundred thousand Alliance troops, in times of need, hope is the dawn, the brightest star in the night sky.
The 200,000 Alliance troops, when they are not needed, are like 200,000 vicious wolves!
The noble lords are okay, but what about the remaining big soldiers?
If they make trouble, they will be more terrifying than the orcs.
Especially their alpha wolf, Carlos Barov, who took advantage of Hillbrad's corruption and reaped so many benefits!
Carlos's resettlement land policy for sheltering refugees became a heinous crime for personal gain in the eyes of others.
In other words, those who prevent them from profiting are evil enemies.
Although Carlos has been canvassing for votes and trying not to eat alone, the cake of the earliest developed land, Hillblade Hills, is so delicious. The land soaked in blood must be so fertile...
But that's not all, it's just a starting point.
The real reason is the alliance's army.
After all, Lothar is just an outsider. Sooner or later he will return to his Elwynn Forest and become his King of Stormwind City. But Carlos was different. He was an aboriginal native of Lordaeron.
We cannot allow such a guy to gain power in the alliance, otherwise there will be no way for others to survive.
Others here refer to those whose interests have been harmed.
So smearing Carlos has become politically correct for these people.
But the timing was wrong. Under the spotlight of the victory in the Burning Plains, Carlos decisively gave up and returned northward. The conspiracy theory about Lothar's death concocted by these people was of no use.
what to do?
If Carlos really comes, there will be no way for everyone to survive!
Since you can't smear him, let him shut up forever.
But he is very powerful? !
No matter how powerful he is, he can't rely on the people around him. If he is so powerful, why doesn't he go out to challenge the tribal orcs? Why does he need an army?
It seems...that makes some sense.
We made trouble for them along the way, but we didn't take any action. When they were exhausted, we all mobilized people to swarm them...
Reliable!
Under the planning of such a group of paper military strategists, a farce-like regicide plot was hatched.
There are still about a hundred kilometers away from Lordaeron. In the edge area of the Silver Pine Forest, there are no longer many giant trees. There are more silver pine trees that are more than ten meters high and have been growing for ten or twenty years.
In such a suitable place for an outing, Carlos ushered in a real enemy.
"Your Majesty, there are about two thousand people."
"It's not that much. Don't just rely on your eyes to see, but also learn to listen with your ears."
After giving Chris a lesson, Carlos satisfied his desire to show off.
In fact, you don't rely on your ears to listen. In the woods, the sound of leaves rubbing is so noisy, what can you hear? What really made Carlos make his judgment was the feeling honed on the battlefield for a long time.
It is the so-called sixth sense, or the mysterious confidence.
He looks like a thousand and five people, full of malice, lack of murderous intent, and a bunch of weaklings.
"The terrain is not suitable for charging, so dismount and fight."
After Carlos calculated, he issued the final order to prepare for war.
Then, after waiting for almost twenty minutes, the opponent was still hesitant to launch an attack.
If the enemy doesn't move, I will move.
Carlos gave up all his tactical advantages and stepped into the trap laid by the enemy in advance.
As a result, a horrific massacre occurred.
"Chris, do you think these people are dead soldiers?"
"Your Majesty, I don't know."
"Why don't you know?"
"Too bad, I can't judge."
"Then you say these people are bandits?"
"No, it's not professional."
"Then what do you think they are? There are more than a thousand or almost two thousand people. Even if there are a thousand pigs, it will take an entire afternoon to catch them! If they are gone, they will be gone..."
"Your Majesty said so."
"Forget it, I won't keep the head. Dig a hole and bury it. Rest for an hour and then leave."
Carlos's enemies had all the advantages of the right time, right place, right people, etc., but lacked one thing--combat power.
Maybe they didn't pay attention to a certain article in the first volume of "Metaphysics of War," a newly published popular journal within the alliance.
The first of the three forbidden sentences on the battlefield is: We are too many.
There were still 70 kilometers away from the city of Lordaeron, and Carlos stopped and set up camp, preparing to recharge his batteries for the last stretch of the journey.
The guards were cautious all night, but the night was uneventful.
There were no officials who came to respond, and there were no dead soldiers who came to attack. Passing by the farm fields, there was only bare land after harvesting.
Somewhat weird.
But what could be compared to the battle with the orcs? Those incredibly strong guys could bury themselves in piles of rocks and lurk all day and night to ambush the Alliance army. What could be more bizarre?
Carlos let go of the reins and let the horse gallop. As dusk fell, he finally arrived at the outskirts of Lordaeron. The shadow of the tall city wall had already appeared on the horizon.
"Your Majesty, we are off track. The city gate is in that direction."
"You lead the way."
"As you command, my lord."
Following the smooth road, Carlos and his party arrived at the city gate before it got completely dark.
Outside the city gate, a bonfire was cooling off, and at the city gate were the figures of two middle-aged men.
"Father...father-in-law..."
Carlos dismounted, handed the reins to Chris, and stepped forward alone.
Alex Barov had been regent of a kingdom for many years and had accumulated great power, but at this moment he was no different from an old farmer. He hugged his son with trembling hands.
"It'll be good to come back, it'll be good to come back."
After a moment of tenderness between father and son, Terenas spoke.
"Come and see the gift I have prepared for you."
Following Terenas into the city gate and into the urn city, he saw his old father-in-law waving his hand, a row of sergeants holding up torches, and numerous corpses hanging on dense crosses on both sides of the road.
"I'm sorry, Carlos, in your absence, we just passed the Anti-Union War Act, which purged a lot of worms that were jeopardizing the country's finances."
Terenas spoke softly.
