Zul'jin is Back

Although the initial communication with Ulathek was a bit rocky, once things smoothed out, Tian Sang felt she was actually a fairly easy person to get along with. She was a bit calculating, and he might end up being used as a pawn in the future, but that was still better than dealing with someone unreasonable.

Ulathek was true to her word. She had promised to help restore his ten fingers, and she did not lie. Within just a few days, Tian Sang felt the surface of his six-fingered hands begin to wither, while a dull, aching pressure grew deep within his palms—the sensation of bones reshaping and growing.

In less than half a month, Tian Sang's palms began to swell and widen. Two small bumps sprouted at the base of his palms near the edges, and after another half-month, those bumps grew into delicate, tender fingers.

By the time his strong, flexible fingers had fully grown, winter had arrived. Tian Sang's hands were no longer the plump, carrot-like six-fingered stumps they once were; they were now ten fingers, slightly bony and laced with visible veins.

Although his fingers had grown back as promised, Tian Sang felt no joy. The cold front sweeping in from the north had blanketed Zul'Aman in thick snow, which meant that foraging for food was no longer an option.

With food gathering impossible during the winter and the population concentrated in one place, supplies were insufficient. To conserve food, Tian Sang had to enforce strict rationing. Aside from the warriors guarding the perimeter, the elderly and the young were limited to thin watery gruel and pickled vegetables every day.

Enduring hunger was a minor issue; what hit harder than the northern cold front was the news of the Horde's total defeat. Scattered Forest Trolls kept trickling back from the south, bringing with them the general picture of the disaster.

After the failed assault on Quel'Thalas, the Horde had concentrated its forces to attack Lordaeron City, intending to wipe out the humans once and for all. However, at the final moment, the betrayal of the Orc warlock Gul'dan, who had abandoned the fleet to flee out to sea, caused the entire campaign to collapse.

Warchief Orgrim was enraged by this betrayal. He dispatched pursuit forces, willing to abandon the fruits of victory just to hunt down Gul'dan. But as the pursuit fleet returned, they were ambushed by the Alliance at sea, and most of their ships were sunk.

Orgrim retreated south, but the Alliance pressed their advantage. The two sides clashed in a massive battle at Blackrock Spire. Orgrim challenged the Alliance commander Lothar to a duel before the lines; although he succeeded in slaying Lothar, he was subsequently captured by the Alliance.

The capture of their leader caused the Horde army to collapse entirely. Under the command of Lothar's lieutenant Turalyon, the Alliance launched a counterattack. Most of the Orcs were taken prisoner, and the Trolls, facing such momentum, scattered in all directions. As for the Troll chieftain Zul'jin, his fate remained unknown amidst the chaos.

The information brought back by the returning Trolls was fragmented, but it was enough to piece together the general truth. Yet, this truth was unacceptable to the Forest Trolls. In their rage, those who returned were executed and used as food—a tragedy Tian Sang was powerless to stop.

The news of defeat left the Forest Trolls grief-stricken and indignant. Not only had their hopes of reclaiming the forest vanished, but they had suffered yet another crushing failure. Many Trolls, consumed by decadence and despair, chose to throw themselves into the flames to end their lives.

Faced with such desperate Trolls, not even the Loa could do anything, let alone Tian Sang. Yet, in the midst of this chaos, the long-missing chieftain Zul'jin suddenly returned to Zul'Aman with his subordinates.

Zul'jin's return was not marked by any celebratory feast, but his presence caused the despair-stricken Zul'Aman and the Forest Trolls to calm down. They were waiting for an explanation, and Zul'jin...

Inside the cavernous stone dwelling, the Forest Troll warriors sat on the ground, slurping down the gruel in their bowls while grabbing pickled vegetables and potatoes to stuff into their mouths, struggling to fill their bellies.

At the center of the warriors, with his white, straw-like hair tied atop his head and a purple cloth wrapped around his neck, Zul'jin sat on the cold stone floor. With his only remaining eye, he watched the Witch Doctors, priests, and high hunters gathered around the fire.

"..." Tian Sang watched the silent Troll sitting across the fire, who had lost his left arm and right eye. He turned his head to glance at his colleagues, suppressing the questions burning in his heart.

Tian Sang believed he wasn't the only one suppressing his words. Those questions were destined to remain unasked. Why? Because Zul'jin was the chieftain of the Amani, the object of absolute physical submission for all Forest Trolls.

Although he had lost his left arm and right eye in this war, his long-standing reputation for ferocity meant few dared to question Zul'jin. The consequence of doing so would likely be being struck down by Zul'jin on the spot—"object of physical submission" was not a phrase used lightly.

Like many others present, Tian Sang lacked the courage to challenge Zul'jin. Even though this was his first meaningful contact with the chieftain, a lack of courage was simply a lack of courage.

Just like Tian Sang and the others who dared not speak, Zul'jin was also silent. He harbored guilt in his heart; he had dragged the Trolls into this war, and he bore the lion's share of the responsibility for its failure.

In the empty stone chamber, aside from the slurping sounds of the Troll warriors eating, a silence heavy enough to freeze the air continued to linger.

"Hiss!" Tian Sang felt the atmosphere frozen by the silence and couldn't help but gasp, drawing the gaze of everyone present.

"Zul'jin, this failure does not lie with you." Tian Sang looked at the many eyes fixed upon him, swallowed hard, and spoke to the one-armed Troll.

"..." Zul'jin raised his eyes to look at Tian Sang, his expression slightly startled. It wasn't just him; many of the others nearby were caught off guard as well.

"This failure lies in the strategic errors of the Orcs. They dragged the Elves and the Pale Ones into the fray too early. The Horde should have concentrated its forces to first eliminate the humans, who possessed such strong will to resist, before dealing with the Pale Ones slowly." Tian Sang adjusted his mindset, offering an excuse for Zul'jin to break the bizarre atmosphere.

"Yes, Zul'ra is right." Lostro looked at the grim-faced Zul'jin and couldn't help but chime in.

"That's right."

"It was all those Orcs."

"We provoked the Pale Ones too early."

"I think so too." Faced with Lostro's words, the Witch Doctors, priests, and high hunters immediately followed suit. Zul'jin's expression tightened, then relaxed.

"This was also my fault. I did not stop the Horde's erroneous decisions." Zul'jin's mind raced as he offered a self-critique.

"Given our relationship with the Pale Ones, it is not surprising you made that decision. But we have no energy left to dwell on these matters, or perhaps, we can no longer afford to keep our eyes fixed on this." Tian Sang looked at the self-flagellating Zul'jin, feeling a trace of disdain, but he had to continue to steer the attention of the crowd.

"We must solve the food problem now. The grain in the cellar is already half gone. Zul'jin, we must find a way to secure food, otherwise, most of our people will starve to death here. If that happens, these mistakes will no longer have any meaning." Tian Sang looked at the crowd and spoke.

"Do you have a solution? Son of Kal'ma." Zul'jin lowered his eye, then looked up at the young Troll standing straight before him.

"Yes. Use boats to go out to sea and catch large fish. We can no longer forage in the mountains, and the game is too limited." Tian Sang lowered his gaze toward Zul'jin, showing his submission while offering his suggestion.

"Then let it be as you say!" Zul'jin looked at the young one avoiding his gaze. He thought of the prestigious priest he had abandoned in the enemy camp, felt a pang of guilt, and offered a silent apology. He made his decision: deal with the immediate crisis first, and leave his own mistakes for later.