In the early morning, when the sun once again shone on the Hillsbrad Hills, the elves far away from their homeland woke up from their slumber and started a new day of work. However, compared with before, the atmosphere in the prisoner of war camp was somewhat dull.
Somewhat chilling.
At this time, four full years have passed since Zul'jin's prison escape, but for elves with long lifespans, this is only an insignificant amount of time...
"The news from Quel'Thalas shows that the Amani trolls have become increasingly unstable recently!"
Tyrion sat in the slightly crude command room in the camp and conveyed the news in his hand to his subordinates.
In front of him were the captains of the three Farstrider rangers under his command, and the commanders second only to him in the camp. After four years of training, they had become Tyrion's indispensable and excellent subordinates.
A tactical map of Hillsbrad Foothills was spread out on the table. It was drawn by the elites of the Farstriders themselves. Tyrion's fingers were sliding over the map repeatedly.
All the elves, including him, looked unhappy because this matter related to their mortal enemy, the forest troll.
"The day before yesterday, our scouts found traces of troll headhunters nearby. It is initially estimated that the number is around 20. According to their regular establishment, there are probably hundreds of these beasts coming this time!"
"Obviously! Some fools who are unwilling to fail are planning another rescue of Zul'jin."
Tyrion crossed his hands on the table and supported his chin. After a moment, his fingers pointed at the river near the camp:
"Here is the supply point closest to the camp and the only way to the hills from the Hinterlands. I decided to set up an ambush here! Since those trolls dare to come, I believe they are ready to die in battle.
, what we have to do is to send them to meet their Loa!"
"But Tyrion...there is something you must know."
The most senior ranger captain hesitated a little. His black eyebrows twitched and he tapped his finger near the camp on the map. There was a sign of a castle there. He whispered:
"The master of Durnholde Castle has given us several warnings! In the name of preventing orc invasion, he requires us to report every action to him in advance."
"You're talking about Captain Blackmore from the human kingdom of Alterac, right?"
Tyrion rubbed his forehead, making his pale golden slender eyebrows jump up and down, and he said softly:
"If I remember correctly, he has asked us more than once to cooperate with the infantry under his command to conduct large-scale local manhunts... He is really an insignificant little character, so ignore him! Let's continue to do our thing."
Tyrion raised his eyebrows. He looked at the three silent ranger captains beside him. He coughed lightly and said:
"At least until he solves his internal troubles and ruthlessly cleans out the disgusting alien gladiators imprisoned in his castle, the captain has no right to interfere with any of our actions, and we will not disclose any details of the actions to him.
The details are kept confidential!"
Tyrion spread his hands and made a helpless expression:
"You all know that there are trolls among those alien gladiators, and they are likely to leak our country's secrets. I believe that, as a qualified veteran, Captain Blackmore can definitely understand our difficulties..."
These strongly worded words made the other two captains laugh. The ranger captain who did not laugh was a young man. He was obviously still worried about the conflict between the two parties, so he asked:
"Captain Tyrion, what if that captain doesn't understand us? We are in human territory after all..."
"If he doesn't understand, if he still wants to interfere with any of our actions, let him go directly to his king! Then let his king send a messenger to our king!"
Tyrion's eyes fell on the command table in front of him. He breathed a sigh of relief and said softly:
"Although we are on human land, this prison camp belongs to the Kingdom of Quel'Thalas! Human laws and rules have no control over us!"
The camp director turned to look at the youngest ranger captain, with a smile in his eyes:
"Our king paid for this, got it?"
Soon, the two captains were assigned tasks and stood up to leave. Only two people were left in the conference room. The oldest ranger captain was named Rogelio Sunfury, Tyrion's most trusted deputy.
Before, he hesitated for a moment, and said to Tyrion in front of him with some worry:
"Captain, you may not care about this news, but the recent situation of the prisoner Zulkin...is not good. It may be due to the recent weather that his old injury has recurred and has begun to become infected."
"Hmm? Infection?"
When the ranger heard the news, he felt a little incredible. He looked at the brother in front of him and after confirming that Rogelio was not joking, he shook his head:
"Rogg, I remember you set foot on the battlefield 200 years ago, and I, I am a little later than you. I only killed the first enemy in my life 150 years ago, which was a troll."
"After that, my mentor, my friends, and you all used bows, knives, daggers, and torches to kill those trolls. On the battlefield, I have seen trolls hacked to death.
, trolls who were poisoned to death, trolls who were burned to death, but I have never seen a troll that died due to wound infection...Have you seen it?"
"Of course not! I also know what you want to say, Tyrion."
Rogelio shook his head and said in a deep voice:
"I know that with the troll's self-healing ability, it is impossible to die from wound infection, but the special envoy from Silvermoon City will be here soon. You also know that the superiors hope that Zul'jin is alive. I am worried that if we do not treat him
If you don't ask, will it cause some unnecessary trouble?"
"Don't we keep him alive now? Rogge..."
After hearing Rogelio's persuasion, Tyrion's eyes flashed coldly, and even his words became stiff, but after a moment, his tone became softer:
"I know what you are worried about, old friend. Don't worry. I will not sabotage the plans of the big shots because of my hatred. My mentor also repeatedly told me that I know the severity, but an injury of this degree will not
It affects Zul'jin's life and death, so we don't need to think too much about this matter."
As he spoke, Tyrion changed the subject. He didn't want to say too much on this issue. Looking at his old friend in front of him, he asked casually:
"Rogg, I remember you haven't been back to Quel'Thalas for two years, right? Do you really plan to stay in a human place for the rest of your life, with someone who can only be your grandson at this age, but is as arrogant as your grandfather?
Dealing with human nobles? I remember that little Kane is still waiting for you to come back in Silvermoon City."
Hearing this, Rogelio smiled and his eyes softened:
"Who wants to stay here... Oh, by the way! There is something I want to tell you. The Ranger General has approved my request to retire. I can go home next month to spend time with my family and me.
Little Kane, so this is my last month with you all, Tyrion."
"Hey! Don't say that! Forget it!"
Tyrion's expression suddenly became strange. He stood up and patted Rogelio on the shoulder:
"Please, don't plant a flag for yourself anymore! Come on, old brother, we are on duty today, you can go have some drinks."
"Uh? What flags are there? What do you mean by that?"
"It's not interesting. Don't take it to heart. Let's go quickly. We can go hunting while it's still dark..."
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For many people, the most painful thing in life is the wait for imminent death, but in fact there is another unbearable torture, which is to imprison freedom and take such a thing away from a living being forever, never to see it again.
There is nothing more cruel than that.
With his fingers dancing on the hilt of the knife at his waist, Tyrion stood silently in the darkness, looking at the old troll lying groaning on the cold ground in the dark cage in front of him.
Zul'jin...a poor man who was captured twice and robbed of his freedom twice.
He was naked to the waist, and his green skin was engraved with charms from the trolls' ancient beliefs and spiritually sanctified beast spirits, Loa. In battle, these charms could bring them powerful and wild power. His body
He is very tall, and at a glance, people can think of this guy's unrivaled heroic appearance on the battlefield, but his current body has become as thin as wood due to long-term confinement and abuse.
But this cannot be concealed in the darkness, the malice and cunning shining in his eyes. It is worth mentioning that the right eye of this old troll was cut out by Tyrion himself on the battlefield.
"Ahem...why don't you get closer to me and take another look? Tyrion, the Blade of Dawn...the guy who cruelly took away my right eye!"
"You are 300 years old, how come you still look like a coward! Just like on the battlefield, you hid behind that woman and did not dare to confront me...like a scared chicken! Hahaha...
.Cough cough, ah, cough cough cough!”
In the darkness, he laughed at Tyrion with a hoarse voice, but the ridicule ended with a heartbreaking cough.
When he became quiet again, Tyrion took a step forward from the darkness. He stood outside the cage and stared at the old troll in front of him with calm eyes:
"But the chicken controls your life... Zuljin, you should have died long ago! You should have died on the battlefield long ago. Every day you live is earned by those idiots in Silvermoon City.
..But it doesn’t matter, I’m actually very happy to see you lingering on.”
Tyrion paused and said with some regret:
"And what I regret most about this is...it came 170 years too late!"
Zuljin was captured five years ago during a small war in which an army led by Nastarion, the current Sun King of Quel'Thalas, personally broke through the troll fortress in the Evernight Forest.
At the end of the war, Tyrion and his mentor, the current ranger general Lyressa Windrunner, captured the escaped Zul'jin alive at the edge of the battlefield. They paid a high price, but it was a complete victory.
Zul'jin should have died at that time, but after discussion with his advisors, the king decided to imprison him outside the country's borders.
Their plan is actually very simple. Zul'jin is quite famous in the Amani troll tribe. After he is captured, whether the remaining trolls are ready to resist to the end or plan to redeem the chief, they will evolve into the Amani tribe.
Split, and this split is exactly what the high elves want to see.
This means the big guys can use all kinds of tricks to weaken them!
Trolls have a strong reproductive capacity. It only takes 10 years for these forest beasts to grow into one generation. An excellent elf ranger requires at least 30 years of training before entering the battlefield. It takes even longer to train a mage.
Coupled with the poor fertility rate of the high elves, head-on confrontation is never a good option.
Continuously weakening this insidious strategy is the best way to deal with trolls.
But you have to know...reasonable things may not necessarily be unreasonable.
Based on the number of elves who died in Zul'jin's hands, and the blood on his hands that could never be washed away, Tyrion was certain that if given the chance, all the rangers in this camp, and even in Quel'Thalas, would fight without mercy.
Kill him hesitantly.
"170 years? Let old Zuljin think about it..."
The old troll sat cross-legged in a special magic cage with difficulty. He whispered in a weird voice that made people want to beat him:
"170 years ago, I was probably still at the holy land of the Amani tribe, which was the altar of Zul'Aman. I personally sacrificed many plundered elves... Oh, I remember it! They were a couple.
..That man was very brave. He tried to protect his wife, but I took out his heart with a knife. He died miserably!"
Because of his failed escape 4 years ago, Zuljin's severed right arm has been restored. He did not lose it in the end. He waved his fingers and made a heart-wrenching gesture. There was a hint of ferocity in his eyes, a bit regretful.
explain:
"As for that woman... What a pity, I have forgotten her appearance. I only remember her painful screams like a dying kitten when I strangled her to death with my own hands...
That makes me very happy.”
The old troll blinked and looked at Tyrion in front of him:
"What's her name? Teresa? Tessa? Or Taliyah? Sorry, old Zuljin is too old. I can't remember these things."
"Can you tell me the answer, my dear little Tyrion?"
The air in the cage froze at this moment. After a few seconds, Tyrion said:
"Tyrissa Dawnblade, my mother...and Carol Dawnblade, my father, my only two relatives, you killed them, so I will eventually kill you.
, do you have any objections to completely destroying Amani?"
"Hehehe! What a joke!"
Tyrion's question made the old troll burst into laughter, and his voice became increasingly weird in the darkness:
"You keep saying that I killed your beloved parents, but look at your eyes, Tyrion. Eyes don't lie. When you mention their names, I can't see a single wave of calmness in your eyes.
They are like two strangers, admit it! You ruthless bastard, your parents are not even more important to you than the woman who protects you on the battlefield!"
The old troll took two sharp breaths, letting the wild charms on his body tumble along with his skin.
"I'm curious, who are your real relatives? The poor Dawnblade couple, or the widowed and beautiful ranger general Lyresa Windrunner? Oh, by the way, her poor husband is also dead.
In my hands, and I heard..."
Zul'jin had a weird smile on his face, and touched the railings of the cage in front of him with both hands. He lowered his voice, as if he was challenging Tyrion's final bottom line:
"I heard that she values you very much, and has a kind of intimacy that goes beyond the relationship between master and apprentice... Look at you, what a handsome young man... This is normal, isn't it? Things between men and women..."
"Did anyone tell you, Zul'jin, you really can't speak?"
"bass"
The elf sword was unsheathed, and the beating blade illuminated the darkness of the cage. It stabbed accurately into the old body in front of him, causing the blood to scatter in anger.