Prologue, the night of the hills
Whoosh
He is eager to fight! Every bone in his body is screaming for slaughter
The movement is gentle, akin to an old friend who has not been seen for a long time, exuding great composure and elegance. This demeanor stands in stark contrast to that of a desperate troll chieftain, resembling an extreme dichotomy.
Upon seeing Zul'jin, who was pinned to the ground and struggling weakly, the ranger captain's eyes revealed a hint of relaxation. However, upon noticing the figure standing beside Zul'jin, a wave of shame surged in his eyes
Thus, the bustling forest fell silent once again a few minutes after the two encountered each other
A large chunk of bloodied earth was brutally stuffed into Zul'jin's mouth, silencing all his subsequent curses and roars, leaving the old troll to struggle like a beast in its final throes, yet unable to escape from the hands of a skilled hunter
At the moment when the figure of Lor'themar vanished into the forest, Tyrion stepped forward and stood before the distant rangers. He spoke in a low voice:
"Tai! Rui! Ang! The scraps that took away my vision! I will kill you! I want... to kill you!"
Such an act of drinking poison to quench thirst will suppress the powerful self-healing ability within the troll's body, preventing the severed arm from naturally recovering. Over time, this will lead to the complete loss of his right arm.
You should have died a year ago, but the fools of Silvermoon City have granted you a new life. Do not worry, you may live for a long time... as a prisoner
He saw the face that made him grit his teeth with hatred in every night of his imprisonment, wishing to tear its bones apart and swallow its flesh
From now on, the prisoner of war camp is under my supervision! I have brought the magical prison cage specially crafted for Zul'jin by the mages of Silvermoon City, and we must transfer him to this cell at the earliest opportunity
Just like 1 year ago, on the battlefield of Quel'Thalas where the Armani trolls suffered a disastrous defeat
Approximately 10 minutes later, the guards responsible for watching over Zul'jin and the other Amani trolls, dressed in the same style of leather armor and cloaks as the elven ranger Teryon, burst forth from the forest. Among them, the leading ranger stood out particularly; unlike the others, he wore red chainmail, a red cloak, carried a massive Phoenix war bow on his back, and held a distinctive large sword in his hand
I am Tyrion, the Dawn Blade! You all know me! I believe I do not need to introduce myself any further
He is indeed Zul'jin
But in the next moment, a chilling wind blew across his face, and the returning rationality swiftly suppressed the desire for slaughter. He glanced back at the forest, where the tranquility had been shattered by noise. Ultimately, he took a deep breath and turned to dash deeper into the forest.
Bang
Hoo... Hoo!
Long time no see, Zuerjin
The Armanian giant troll chieftain, Zulkhan, who attempted to escape from prison, has been captured in Quel'Thalas!
Spare no effort
Counting a few more kilometers ahead, one will truly enter the wild lands of the Sin'thral Mountains, where another clan of forest trolls, the Evil Branch Clan, resides. Although they have little connection to the Amani clan, once he reaches that place, Zul'jin will no longer have to worry about his life.
The greatest chieftain and priest of the Armanian trolls, the slayer favored by the Loa, the destroyer of the destiny of the high elf kingdom of Quel'Thalas
However, if he does not do so, the continuous dripping of blood will reveal his escape route. Having dealt with high elves his entire life, Zul'jin is well aware of what their rangers are capable of; even a single drop of blood is sufficient for them to locate his hiding place in the forest
In the remaining eye of Zul'jin, a surge of extreme malice swirled, as he fixed his gaze intently on the elf before him. The latter let out a sigh of relief, crouched down in front of Zul'jin, and took out a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the blood off the old troll's face.
A smile appeared on his face as he tossed aside the handkerchief soaked in pungent blood. In the blood-scented night sky, the elf let out a sigh and softly said
Even if it means death ...! ... I will drag down ten, a hundred elves to take the fall with me
This is what he must achieve; only by freeing himself from the incompetent pursuers behind him can he hope to return to the territory of the Amani. Only by regaining his freedom can he possibly reestablish control over the Amani tribe, which has already become a scattered mess. It is only through freedom that he can rally the army of forest trolls once more to breach the arrogant elves' realm, using the blood of countless beings to atone for all the failures and humiliations he has endured
And at this very moment
The voice was hoarse and exhausted, with resentment and malice that required no discernment; this was the demeanor of a true enemy. At the moment he heard the cry, the elven ranger pressed his lips together, released his foot from Zul'jin's arm, and in the next instant, the blade gleamed.
Due to this severe jailbreak incident, it is necessary to give the restless prisoners a profound lesson! Therefore, I hereby issue an order!
Two hours ago, he painstakingly severed his own arm with a bone knife. In the cage, there were no weapons to be found, so that bone knife was crafted silently over countless dark nights of imprisonment from his own broken fang. It was not sharp, and the process of cutting off his arm was undoubtedly excruciating.
Zul'jin's face, covered in runes, was filled with exhaustion; he needed to take a break. The environment of Zandalar was several times more dangerous than the Hillsbrad Foothills, and he had to ensure that he had enough energy to face the dangers that awaited him in the wild forests.
Snap
And now, this is the first order I have issued since assuming the position of commander of the Hillsbrad Foothills Prisoner of War Camp
This is not hunting, this is fleeing
Bang
As Zhulkin looked at his companion, the figure clad in green chainmail and draped in the iconic green cloak of the wayfarer was also gazing at him. One second later, those calm eyes narrowed, bringing a hint of genuine smile to the cheeks.
He resembled a defeated gambler at the betting table, his eyes reddened, all the suppressed killings, all the rage, all the madness within him were completely unleashed at that moment. He gripped the bone knife tightly and charged towards the direction from which the arrow had been shot, his demeanor, in addition to that of an exhausted fleeing prisoner, was more akin to a beast driven to the brink of despair
Listen to me, Zulkin, I did not come here to kill those I despise; a guy like you is meaningless, you will eventually be eliminated by me, sooner or later
The faint shouts and flames flickered in the forest behind him, the pursuers had arrived. The single eye of the old giant troll, who was resting, suddenly opened wide. He extended his cracked tongue and licked his lips, like a hungry viper yearning for its prey to come closer. His remaining right arm, with its peculiar three-fingered hand, gripped tightly the blood-stained bone knife in his hand
I am doing this to protect the person I cherish; she is different from you. Once lost, she can never return.
Puff!
The cold blade, after gathering strength, struck fiercely against Zul'jin's body, completely interrupting his weakened death charge.
Ah!
I come to take over the Farstrider prisoner camp by the orders of the Sun King and the Ranger General! You may leave at any time and report to your Prince in Quel'Thalas.
Swish, swish
He is not incapable of enduring failure, but at the very least...! ... he cannot die here...! in such a humble manner. ... ... like a reptile or a wild dog, dying on the ground so far from the battlefield.
He swiftly advanced in the darkness, using the little magic he had painstakingly acquired during his escape to heal the wound on his left arm, stop the bleeding, and allow it to temporarily mend
Snap
Hoo... Hoo!
The ranger casually tossed a piece of enchanted stone to his kin clad in red armor, speaking in a tone devoid of any emotion:
He will never forget how he was driven to a dead end on the battlefield of Yongge Forest, how he was brutally deprived of his eyesight after a desperate counterattack. The boiling hatred and anger burned within him, every cell was frantically calling for revenge, revenge
My destiny ... ... is not ... ...
The foot clad in deerskin boots pressed down on his left arm, the sharp blade ruthlessly slicing through his fingers, shattering those three fingers along with the tightly gripped bone knife. Amidst the gushing blood, Zul'jin suppressed his pain, his single eye filled with hatred. He raised his head, and in the light approaching dawn, he saw the newcomer
Zulkin let out a mad scream, his single eye filled with ferocity and anger. Freedom was right before him, yet at the last moment, he faced failure, driving Zulkin, who had nearly sacrificed everything in pursuit of freedom, into complete madness
The red-clad ranger stood still, squeezing the spellstone in his hand, unsure of what to say. Meanwhile, Terion strolled forward, and as he passed by Lor'themar Theron, he reached out and patted his shoulder, speaking softly:
But it doesn't matter anymore...! ... Because the end of freedom is just within reach!!
An arrow shot from the forest ahead, accompanied by a whistling sound of the wind, hurtled towards Zul'jin's head. The imminent threat made the hair on the back of the old troll's neck stand on end. He lunged forward, landing on the soft ground, while the arrow violently pierced the tree trunk behind him, even sending splinters flying like shrapnel.
The hunched troll leaned against the tree trunk, warily surveying his surroundings like a vigilant beast. His cheeks, etched with runes, were already soaked with sweat, not only from tension but also from pain
Look, my unfortunate compatriots could not keep you in check, allowing you to almost escape. It is alright, do not be disappointed in them... Do not take your life for granted; do not wait until it is too late to cherish your miserable existence. When the day comes that you are no longer of use, I will personally end your suffering, I promise
The wound on the right eye has begun to throb faintly again, even though a year has passed. Yet this ghastly wound, like his hatred, has never healed.
Captain Lothar Mar Saron!
Uh... you better kill me now...
The hunter, waiting for the right moment, and the prey, in a state of extreme weakness, found themselves in this dire situation. The old giant troll was utterly unable to withstand such an attack; his entire body, which had charged forward, was flipped over by this blow, ultimately leaving him in a disheveled heap on the ground
So, dear senior... it seems you have to return with failure
Find him
At this moment, the spell stone in the hands of the red-clad ranger was gripped tightly, even emitting a low sound, yet in the end, he said nothing and turned to leave
Freedom! Freedom!
Yet he did not utter a single cry of pain, until he broke the neck of the jailer with one hand, quenching his thirst with the man's blood, until the first spark of revenge was ignited by his own hand. Only in the midst of slaughter could he feel a trace of exhilaration! It was only the massacre and retribution he executed himself that could please the bloodthirsty and brutal Loa, the wild deity he served.
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Although reluctant to admit it, for the forest giant troll hunters, the elite high elf rangers are considered the most dangerous natural killers
It was a face of indifference, characterized by the slenderness unique to high elves. The always pursed lips had a sharp quality to them, and most importantly, there were those eyes—those calm eyes. Even while severing the fingers of the old giant troll, amidst the brutality of blood splattering, those eyes remained tranquil
The elf saw the hatred shining in Zul'jin's single eye, and he shrugged
Ah!
The blade, engraved with the pattern of a phoenix, pierced through the chest, pinning the old giant troll and his path of escape firmly to the ground
The severed left arm began to bleed again, and the pain spread through every wound. They laughed maniacally, while below the elbow of the old giant troll, which should have been able to tear apart beasts, there was nothing but emptiness
The frenzied run of a single night has drained the last vestige of strength from the body of the troll chieftain Zul'jin, yet he has accomplished a feat beyond the reach of ordinary men, having traversed the forests of the eastern Hillsbrad Foothills in a single night
All prisoners in the POW camp, except for Zulkhin, are to be executed on the spot
The head of the elven ranger burst into the air as it charged into the forest, warm blood splattering onto Zul'jin's face, a sensation that captivated him
In the dead of night, the fugitive's breaths were unusually heavy, the blood-stained leaves danced wildly in the wind, and the ghostly howls echoed through the forest, intermingled with the eerie cries of wild creatures. Perhaps they too had caught the scent of blood, lurking in the darkness, gradually peering into the horrors of this brutal night
The ranger Teryon, who should not be in this place, leaned against the tree trunk, wiping his sword with a handkerchief. After cleaning the last trace of blood, he raised his head and looked at the silent red-clad ranger before him