In the early morning, when the sun once again shone on the hills of Hillsbrad, the elves, far from their homeland, awoke from their slumber and began a busy day, but the atmosphere in the prisoner of war camp was somewhat grim compared to the past.

At this time, a full 4 years have passed since Zulkin's prison break, but for an elf with a long lifespan, this is only an insignificant amount of time...

"News from Quel'Salas suggests that the Amani trolls have been getting more and more unstable lately!"

Tyrion sat in the camp's humble command room, relaying the news to his subordinates.

In front of him, he was the captain of his three teams of Far Wanderer Rangers, and the second only commander in the camp, and after four years of running-in, they had become Tyrion's indispensable and excellent subordinates.

A tactical map of the Hillsbrad Hills was spread out on the table, hand-drawn by the elite of the Far Travelers, and Tyrion's finger was sliding over the map repeatedly.

All the elves, including him, did not look good, because this matter was related to their sworn enemy, the forest troll.

"The day before yesterday, our scouts found traces of troll headhunters nearby, the preliminary estimate is about 20, according to their regular establishment, this time those beasts are likely to come hundreds of people!"

"Obviously! Some fools who are not willing to fail are planning another rescue of Zurkin. ”

Tyrion crossed his hands on the table, propped up his chin, and after a moment, his fingers tapped on the river near the camp:

"Here, the closest supply point to the camp, and the only way to the hills from Hinterland, I decided to set up an ambush here! Since those trolls dare to come, I believe they are ready to die in battle, and what we have to do is send them to meet their god Loa! ”

"But Tyrion... There's one thing you need to know. ”

The oldest Ranger Captain hesitated, his black eyebrows twitched, and his finger twitched near the camp on the map, where there was a castle sign, and he whispered:

"The owner of Dunhold Castle has warned us several times! In the name of defending against the orc invasion, he demanded that we report every action to him in advance. ”

"You're talking about Captain Blackmore of Alterac in the human kingdom, right?"

Tyrion rubbed the corners of his forehead, causing his pale golden slender eyebrows to bounce up and down, and he whispered:

"If I'm not mistaken, he has asked us more than once to cooperate with his infantry in a massive manhunt for the area... What a small character who doesn't know how important it is, don't pay attention to him! We continue to do our thing. ”

Tyrion's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at the three silent ranger captains beside him, and he coughed lightly, and said:

"At least until he settles the internal troubles and ruthlessly cleans up those disgusting alien gladiators imprisoned in his castle, the captain has no right to intervene in any of our actions, and we will not disclose any details of the operation to him, this is for the sake of secrecy!"

Tyrion spread his hands and made a helpless expression:

"As you all know, there are trolls among those interracial gladiators, and they are likely to leak our secrets, and I am sure that, as a qualified veteran, Captain Blackmore will understand our troubles..."

The other two captains couldn't help but laugh at this tough word, and the captain of the rangers who didn't laugh was a young man, and he was obviously still a little worried about the conflict between the two sides, so he asked:

"Captain Tyrion, what if that captain doesn't understand us? We are on the territory of humanity after all..."

"If he doesn't understand, if he still wants to interfere with any of our actions, let him go straight to his king! Then let his king send messengers to our king! ”

Tyrion's gaze fell on the command table in front of him, and he breathed a sigh of relief and whispered:

"Although we are on human soil, this prisoner of war camp belongs to the Kingdom of Quel'Thalas! The laws and rules of mankind do not control us! ”

The camp director turned to look at the youngest Ranger Captain, and there was a hint of a smile in his eyes:

"Our king paid for it, understand?"

Soon, the two captains were assigned tasks and got up to leave, leaving only two people left in the conference room, the oldest Ranger captain named Roglio. Sunrage, Tyrion's most trusted lieutenant, hesitated for a moment before leaving, and said to Tyrion in front of him with some concern:

"Captain, you may not care about the news, but the recent situation with the prisoner Zurkin ... Something is not good, probably due to the recent weather, his old injuries have recurred, and he has started to get infected. ”

"Huh? Infect? ”

When the ranger heard the news, he felt a little incredulous, he looked at the brother in front of him, and after confirming that Roglio was not joking, he shook his head:

"Rogge, I remember you stepped onto the battlefield 200 years ago, and I, I'm a little later than you, I only killed the first enemy in my life 150 years ago, and that was a troll."

"After that, I and my mentor, and my friends, and you, together killed those trolls with bows, with knives, with daggers, with torches, on the battlefield, I saw trolls hacked to death, poisoned trolls, burned trolls, but I never saw trolls who died of wound infection... Have you seen it? ”

"Of course not! I know what you're trying to say, Tyrion. ”

Roglio shook his head and said in a deep voice:

"I know that with the troll's self-healing ability, it is impossible to die due to wound infection, but the envoy of Silvermoon City will be over soon, and you know, the superiors want Zurkin to live, I am worried that if we ignore him, will it cause some unnecessary trouble?"

"Didn't we keep him alive now? Rog..."

Hearing Rogrio's persuasion, a cold light flashed in Tyrion's eyes, and even his words became stiff, but after a moment, his tone softened a little:

"I know what you're worried about, old friend, don't worry, I won't sabotage the plans of the upper echelons because of my hatred, and my mentor has repeatedly told me that I know the severity, but this level of injury will not affect Zurkin's life and death, so we don't need to think about this matter too much."

As he spoke, Tyrion's words changed, he didn't want to say too much on this issue, looking at the old friend in front of him, he asked casually:

"Rogge, I remember you haven't been back to Quel'Salas in 2 years, right? Do you really intend to stay in a human place for the rest of your life, dealing with human aristocrats who can only be your grandson at this age, but arrogantly dealing with human aristocrats like your grandfather? As I can remember, little Kane is still waiting for you to go back to Silvermoon City. ”

Hearing this, Roglio smiled, and his eyes softened:

"Who wants to stay here... Oh yes! One thing I want to tell you is that General Ranger has approved my request to retire, and next month I will be able to go home and spend time with my family and my little Kane, so this is my last month with you, Tyrion. ”

"Hey! Don't say that! Forget about it! ”

Tyrion's face suddenly became strange, he stood up and patted Roglio on the shoulder:

"Please, don't plant any more flags for yourself! Brother, let's go, we're on duty today, we can go have some wine. ”

"Huh? What flags to plant? What do you mean by that? ”

"It's not interesting, don't take it to heart, let's go, it's not too late, we can go hunting by the way..."

————————————

For many people, there is nothing more painful in life than the imminent waiting of death, but there is actually another unbearable torture, and that is to imprison freedom, to take such a thing away from a creature forever, and there is nothing more cruel than it.

Fingers twitching on the hilt of the knife at his waist, and Tyrion stood silently in the darkness, looking at the old troll who was groaning on the cold ground in the dark cage in front of him.

Zulkin... The poor man who was caught twice by him and taken away from his freedom twice.

He was shirtless, his green skin was engraved with spells from the ancient beliefs of trolls, the spiritually sanctified beast spirit Loa, which gave them powerful and wild power in battle, and his body was so tall that it was immediately reminiscent of this guy's invincible heroism on the battlefield, but his current body had become thin from the long period of confinement and abuse.

But this could not hide the viciousness and cunning that glittered in his eyes in the darkness, and it is worth mentioning that the old troll's right eye was gouged out by Tyrion himself on the battlefield.

"Ahem... Why don't you come closer to me and take a second look? Tyrion. Dawnblade... The guy who brutally took my right eye! ”

"You're 300 years old, why do you still look like a coward! Just like when you were on the battlefield, you hid behind that woman and didn't dare to go head-to-head with me... It's like a frightened chick! Hehehe... Ahem, ah, ahem, ahem! ”

In the darkness, he mocked Tyrion in a hoarse voice, but the mockery ended with a heart-rending cough.

When he was quiet again, Tyrion stepped forward from the darkness, and he stood outside the cage, staring at the old troll in front of him with calm eyes:

"But the chicks are in charge of your life... Zurkin, you should have died a long time ago! You should have died on the battlefield a long time ago, and every day you lived, you were earned by those fools in Silvermoon City... But it doesn't matter, I'm actually very happy to see you lingering now. ”

Tyrion paused, and said with some regret:

"And for this, I regret the most... It came 170 years late! ”

Zurkin was captured five years ago in a small war led by the current Sun King of Quel'Thalas, Nastarian, to break through the troll fortresses of the Eternal Night Forest.

At the end of the war, Tyrion and his mentor, the current Ranger General Liresa. Lady Windranger paid a great price by capturing the fleeing Zurkin on the edge of the battlefield, but it was a complete victory.

Zurkin should have died at that time, but the king, after consulting with his wise people, decided to keep him outside the borders.

Their plan is actually very simple, Zurkin is quite famous among the Amani troll tribe, and when he is captured, whether the remaining trolls are ready to resist to the end or plan to ransom the chieftain, it will evolve into a split of the Amani tribe, and this split is exactly what the High Elves want to see.

This means that the big guys can weaken them with all kinds of tricks!

Trolls are powerful in their ability to reproduce, these forest beasts only need 10 years to grow a generation, and a good elven ranger needs at least 30 years of training to step into the battlefield, and it takes even longer to train a mage, coupled with the poor fertility rate of the High Elves, it is never a good choice to fight head-on.

Continuously weakening this vicious strategy is the best way to deal with trolls.

But you have to know... What is reasonable is not necessarily reasonable.

With the number of elves who died at the hands of Zulkin, and the blood on his hands that could not be washed, Tyrion was sure that if he had the opportunity, all the rangers in this camp, and indeed in the whole of Quel'Thalas, would not hesitate to kill him.

"170 years? Let old Zulkin think about it..."

The old troll sat cross-legged in a special magical cage with difficulty, and he whispered in a strange voice that made people want to beat him:

"About 170 years ago, I was still in the shrine of the Amani tribe, which was the altar of Zuaman, and I sacrificed many of the plundered elves with my own hands... Oh, I remembered! That's a couple... That man was very brave, he tried to protect his wife, but I stabbed out his heart, and he died a terrible death! ”

Because of the failure of the escape 4 years ago, Zurkin's own severed right arm has been restored, and he did not lose it in the end, he waved his fingers and made a heart-digging movement, his eyes flashed with a trace of hideousness, and he said with some regret:

"As for the woman... It's a shame that I've forgotten what she looked like, I just remember the painful, dying kitten-like screams she screamed when I strangled her with my own hands... It makes me so happy. ”

The old troll blinked, looking at Tyrion in front of him:

"What's her name? Teresa? Tessa? Or Teriya? I'm sorry, but old Zulkin is too old for me to remember these things. ”

"Can you tell me the answer? My dear little Tyrion? ”

The air in the cage froze for a moment, and after a few seconds, Tyrion spoke:

"Tellisa. Dawnblade, my mother... And Carol. Dawnblade, my father, my only two relatives, you killed them, so I will eventually kill you and destroy Amani completely, do you have an opinion? ”

"Hehehe! Joke! ”

Tyrion's questioning caused the old troll to burst into a series of laughs, his voice growing stranger in the darkness:

"You keep saying that I killed your most loved parents, but look at your eyes, Tyrion, eyes don't lie, I don't see a trace of fluctuation in your eyes when you mention their names, calm like two strangers, admit the reality! You ruthless bastard, your parents are even more important to you than the woman who protected you on the battlefield! ”

The old troll gasped violently, causing the wild charm on his body to roll along with his skin.

"I'm curious, who are your real relatives? It's the poor Dawnblade couple, or the widowed and beautiful ranger general Liresa. Windranger? Oh, by the way, her poor husband also died at my hands, and I heard..."

With a strange smile on his face, Zurkin put his hands on the railing of the cage in front of him, and he lowered his voice, as if he was challenging Tyrion's final bottom line:

"I've heard that she values you very much, and there is an intimacy that transcends the relationship between master and apprentice... Look at you, what a handsome boy... That's normal, too, isn't it? Men's and women's affairs..."

"Did anyone tell you, Zurgin, that you really can't speak!"

"Wow"

The elven sword unsheathed, its pulsing blade illuminating the darkness of the cage, piercing into the old body in front of him with precision, causing the blood to scatter in anger.

"Poof"