Zul'Aman, the city of the Amani clan, stood deep in the southeastern reaches of Eversong Woods. It was a formidable fortress, easy to defend and difficult to assault.
The city's style clashed utterly with Eversong Woods. Crude structures of massive stone, countless bone spikes, and rough wooden sheds dotted its surroundings, while enormous wooden voodoo masks hung from the walls and tree branches.
The main structures were built from dark green and dark yellow stone blocks. To Hu Feng, they greatly resembled the Mayan pyramids of Earth in his previous life, and the voodoo masks had a distinctly Mayan feel as well.
As the alliance entered troll territory, they saw High Elf corpses everywhere, impaled upon sharp wooden stakes, their faces twisted in pain and agony.
The two sides had become mortal enemies. There was no point calling the trolls cruel and merciless; if trolls fell into the hands of elves or humans, their fate would not be much better.
One only needed to look at the mound of troll heads piled behind General Lothar to understand the alliance's attitude toward the trolls.
The Amani scouts had discovered the alliance's movements long ago. At this moment, all of Zul'Aman stood on high alert, and every force and civilian from outside had withdrawn into the city.
Zul'jin and Witch Doctor Lord Malakas stood atop an observation platform built of dark green stone on Zul'Aman City's walls. They stared at the alliance forces forming ranks outside the city, the hatred on their faces undisguised.
The war between the trolls and those elves had lasted for countless years. It had always been a stalemate, with neither side able to do anything to the other.
But humanity had suddenly entered the conflict, instantly shifting the balance between the two sides. With human support, the elves had turned from defense to offense. Whether in army size or the number of elite combatants, the alliance held the advantage.
During this period, the Amani Trolls had suffered repeated losses, and the territory under their control had steadily shrunk.
Now, the Human and Elven Alliance had marched straight to Zul'Aman's gates, to the heart of their homeland. If they lost this battle, the Amani clan might not be completely exterminated, but exile would be inevitable.
Though troll forces remained powerful across the world, their extreme fragmentation was their greatest weakness. Since the glorious Gurubashi Empire had fallen, the splintered Troll clans had not only lost all unity, but also schemed against one another, refused to submit to one another, and even frequently fought civil wars.
The once world-ruling Gurubashi Clan had no hope of rising again. It could only cling to life amid the ruined ancient city of Zul'Gurub in the south of the Eastern Kingdoms.
As for the Zandalari clan, that elite caste of witch doctors, there was currently no news of them at all. Rumor had it that they too had hidden away on islands in the seas near the southern coast of the Eastern Kingdoms, ignoring worldly affairs.
In the north of the continent, the Mossflayer Trolls of Hinterlands and the Withered Trolls of Arathi Highlands were even more scattered. They did not even possess a decent city, and human armies had beaten them into a panicked rout. They fled and hid everywhere, so there was no chance of them coming to support Zul'Aman.
At that moment, deep, heavy horn calls rang out in succession. It was the signal to begin the siege.
Enemies meeting each other saw red. There was none of Earth's prewar routine of trading insults and sending champions to duel. Once the human army's catapults were ready, they immediately unleashed a sky-covering barrage of iron balls and stones burning with magical flames toward Zul'Aman.
At the same time, the first wave of siege troops slowly pushed towering siege towers forward, intending to connect them to Zul'Aman's walls. Human archers and elven rangers atop the towers began firing deadly arrows at the Troll soldiers on the battlements.
Behind the army, the mages began casting as well. Streams of blazing fire dragons howled across the walls, sweeping over the trolls, while waves of Blizzard surged in from above. The battlements immediately received the finest treatment of ice and fire.
The Amani Trolls immediately counterattacked. Javelins and crude long arrows flew from the walls toward the alliance soldiers, and screams filled the air.
Soldiers struck by arrows fell to the ground, crying out in agony. Their wounds rapidly blackened and festered; the trolls' javelins and arrows were coated in deadly poison.
Witch doctors wearing all manner of savage, bizarre masks leaped about atop the walls. Their countless nameless voodoo spells left no visible trace, killing invisibly.
Large pools of voodoo poison suddenly appeared before the alliance forces and splashed in every direction. Anyone touched by them felt as though acid had been poured over them, their skin and flesh corroding with a sizzling sound.
Some alliance soldiers suddenly went mad, their eyes turning blood-red. Then they roared and wildly slashed their weapons around, unable to distinguish friend from foe.
This war of cold weapons mixed with all kinds of magic would last a long time. Though the alliance had launched a massive full-scale assault, the trolls relied on the city walls to defend themselves with ease.
"Royal Mage Corps, heed my command!"
Meri stood atop a raised platform behind the army formation. It was the human mages' casting position.
"Prepare the psychic link. Cast Flame Storm together!"
Magic arrays immediately appeared beneath the human mages' feet. Silver streams of energy then emerged around them, linking one hundred human mages together like needle and thread.
In the end, all the energy converged upon Meri Winterwind. Terrifying magical fluctuations radiated from Meri's entire body, causing the nearby elven mages to glance over repeatedly.
They had used psychic links before, but there were barely any who could wield one as effortlessly and as deeply as Meri. Moreover, that mental strain could easily cause a mental collapse if mishandled, turning a person into a mindless idiot.
This was the combined mental power of a full hundred mages. The pressure involved was easy to imagine.
Even if they were a hundred fat pigs, gathering all their minds onto one person in an instant would still be enough to make anyone without a firm will and mind collapse immediately.
"Feel the power of the Arathor Empire, trolls!"
Meri roared furiously, venting his rage. He raised his staff high, and a thick torrent of flames shot into the sky before pouring down upon Zul'Aman ahead like a rain of meteors. Violent explosions erupted at once, along with raging fires that were impossible to extinguish.
The elven mages, fighting independently, desperately unleashed all manner of destructive spells. They focused their attacks on the section of wall hardest hit by the rain of fire. Cracks appeared across that stretch of wall, leaving it on the verge of collapse.
"Pull back the First Legion. Those trolls' voodoo has inflicted heavy losses on them. Retreat! Send in the Second Legion!"
At the center of the human battle formation, General Lothar issued orders to the scout messenger.
At this time, some elven mages also began drawing the witch doctors' attention. They suddenly screamed as they were struck by various bizarre voodoo curses. The sudden, intense pain instantly robbed the mages of their ability to fight, while their mental power rapidly withered away.
Hu Feng quietly floated above the platform of his carriage at the rear, observing the battle without saying a word.
A graceful figure raced back from the front lines. Alleria arrived before Hu Feng.
"Sarodar, why aren't you acting? Alliance soldiers are dying and being wounded without end!"
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