Now, Duque had seen everything he wanted to see. He was very satisfied with the results of Imriel's first battle.
He was not interested in watching the rest of the battle. After all, this kind of low-level hand-to-hand combat was like chickens pecking at each other. You peck me, I'll peck you back.
Moreover, the ones fighting were Paladins. It would be strange if it was exciting.
He remembered that before he transmigrated, there was a Paladin in milk armor and a Commandment Priest who had a flag in a duel. After fighting for ten minutes, they found out that their health and mana bars were basically full. They did not even lose half of their health, let alone kill each other. In the end, the two idiots decided the winner by throwing dice.
Well, one of them was Duque's Priest.
Of course, Duque's Priest also had the reputation of the King of Duels in Minethil Port. Whoever dueled with Duque's Priest on the dock, the righteous and kind Duel Duel would control the opponent's mind and throw them into the water. Then, he would use the righteous Holy Magic to shamelessly … Oh, no, it would be the righteous Iron Fist of Light.
Anyway, if the opponent wanted to swim ashore, they would be out of the Duel Circle, and the System would declare Duque the winner.
Duque could even sit on the boat and anger the opponent half to death because he would have to wait one more lap for the boat to cross the sea.
In the end, Duque's notoriety spread far and wide, and no one was willing to duel with him in Minethil Port.
Duke's attention was no longer on the monitor. Instead, he turned his attention to the documents. Although he was hiding in Karazhan, as long as he still had the title of the Alliance Commander, he had to deal with a lot of chores. As long as he did not go missing, these kinds of trivial matters would come to him.
After all, no leader in the Alliance had the ability to deal with hundreds of documents at the same time like Duque, and whether it was applications or opinions, he would never make a mistake.
As an engineering student, Duke's major was decathlon, and he wasn't proficient in any of them. From boilers to automation, from power distribution to engineering budgets, there was everything.
Thanks to the overbearing System Elf, all the knowledge that Duke had read in the past, even the knowledge that he thought he had forgotten, was dug up by the System from a dusty corner and applied to it.
"Sigh! I can't help it. Who told me to have such a useless host? "The System Elf complained from time to time.
"Shut up!" Duque rolled his eyes.
With the help of the system, Duque alone was equivalent to a logistics department of three hundred people. In addition, many things had to be approved by the supreme commander, so this ability was even more precious.
Before Duque appeared, logistics was a black hole.
Not to mention the so-called logistics of the old tribes, where they could eat wherever they went, that was a typical example of living off the mountains, living off the rivers, and living off the soil.
In any case, locusts were like locusts, eating whatever they could get their hands on. Once they encountered a barren area, they would be finished before the enemy even attacked.
No one could manage the logistics on the Alliance's side, and no one could manage it.
According to the feudal system, the management of garbage warehouses, and the calculation method that didn't even have Arabic numerals, the king himself didn't even know how much food could be transported to the battlefield.
There were even cases of logistics personnel embezzling food and selling it to the merchants who accompanied the army. Then, the merchants added a discount on the price and sold it to the king. The merchants were even rewarded by the king.
After Duque came to power, especially after magic communication was popularized, logistics was no longer a lucrative job.
First of all, all military supplies were standardized.
During research and development, he could let the dwarves let their imaginations run wild. Once production was decided, there would be at most two common versions of the same type of equipment and one backup version. Only these three versions had production lines. Nothing else was made.
It was like a German mechanized infantry division in World War II on Earth that had more than ten types of armored vehicles, or a certain Japanese machine gun that used clips to feed bullets. Duque scoffed at such a stupid idea.
Only by standardizing and reducing the variety could the logistics burden be minimized.
Next was a more scientific method of calculation. Entry and exit were all calculated, and it required the signatures or seals of the warehouse manager, the supervisor, and the person who extracted it. If one signature was missing, only the other two would be needed.
Next was dry storage. Who didn't know how to do that? Yes, the Alliance sent clear instructions to teach the people how to choose warehouses, where to dig holes, how to dry and ventilate. How to prevent rain and moisture during transportation.
Finally was the research and development of new weapons.
With the development of technology, there were always some things that were awesome when they first came out, but were immediately destroyed when the opponent was changed.
For example, in the Second Battle of the Dark Portal, the Alliance's [FFF Regiment Flamethrower] still had many Orcs waking up in the middle of the night. They even shouted "FFF Regiment is here", and there was a tragic scene of old Orcs collectively exploding into a frenzy.
Now that the war was advancing, when the Alliance took down Hellfire Fortress, the once invincible flamethrower in group battles, urban battles, and whatnot suddenly became useless.
Who would be the one to destroy a Naga that played with water?
Hellfire, which relied on fire to survive, was going to use fire to spray it? What a joke!
These days, there weren't many demons that were afraid of fire.
As a result, the flamethrowers suddenly went from being the MVP of regular battles to being marginalized.
But with a single order from Duke and a simple modification blueprint, the Flamethrower, who had almost become a passerby, became a celebrity that was loved by everyone and blossomed with flowers.
"Demon! Drink the water that washes your feet – "The domineering shout made everyone tremble.
Golden water droplets fell from the sky.
Colorless and odorless, but full of a holy aura.
The Draenei who were in the middle of a bloody battle were all shocked, as if they had been injected with chicken blood.
That's right, what was sprayed was naturally holy water, from the holy light creature, Naaru … washes their feet.
The nature of the flamethrower was to spray liquid fuel further using hydraulic pressure. Anyway, spraying fuel was the same, spraying holy light washes was also the same. As long as the igniter on the nozzle was removed, it would be over.
The Alliance's flamethrower, the second spring, was that simple and violent.
This thing could even be used by new soldiers who had trained for half a day.
But the effect of using it was surprisingly good.
Originally, when playing with a flamethrower, one had to pay attention to position and wind direction. If a moron sprayed upwind, that would be a classic example of playing with fire and getting burned.
But spraying holy water was basically harmless to the Alliance soldiers. Only a small portion of the Forsaken would be hit.
As long as they weren't afraid of wasting it, they could use it as a water festival.
When the human body came into contact with holy water, it would naturally disinfect and heal wounds.
Demons that touched this thing were in trouble. It was like acid level stuff. Many demons that didn't die under the bombardment of heavy artillery fell to the ground screaming and dying when they touched the holy water.
The Draenei guards swarmed up and greeted them with their holy light warhammers.
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