The War Begins

Azar was awakened early in the morning by a report; it was Falco who had disturbed his sleep. He had come to convey an urgent order from the Chieftain. What could have happened to cause such haste? Azar rushed to the Council Hall, but before he could even offer a salute, the Chieftain said with grief, "Azar, Zhakun has fallen in battle."

Hearing this news, Azar felt a heavy weight in his chest, but he knew this was not the time for mourning; there was surely a more critical mission awaiting him. After a brief moment of sorrow, Azar said solemnly, "Chieftain, my war blade has long been thirsty for battle!"

"Very good, my child. I knew you would not disappoint me. High Sorcerer, explain the rest to him."

"Yes, Chieftain. Azar, the situation is this: we have begun clearing the scattered tribes in our periphery, or rather, we have begun to expand outward. We need labor, and Feralas is our first step. Some small tribes reside there. At the beginning, Zhakun's troops made smooth progress, but a few days ago, they began to band together and resist. Their strength has surpassed ours, and we need you to lead the follow-up troops to complete the mission."

"The Guard Unit has developed well; the quality of the soldiers is higher than before, and the training is more rigorous. This is thanks to the Rage Training you developed. Practice has proven that it effectively enhances the combat effectiveness of the troops. This time, you will take 3,000 men. Do you have the confidence to win this war?"

"I do not know, but I will give it my all. Additionally, I request to bring a small squad of Battle Mage. I want to observe their actual combat performance, which will provide a reference for our subsequent research."

"No problem! I have only one requirement: take Feralas!"

"As you wish, Chieftain. I shall go and prepare!"

As soon as Azar stepped out of the Council Hall, he saw Falco waiting for him.

"Falco, you are more familiar with the troop situation than I am, so you make the arrangements. Send a guard with my warrant to the base at the Well of Eternity; I have already made the arrangements, and the people there know what to do. By the way, you don't need to come with me this time; you must guard our home."

"Yes! My lord, do you have any other instructions?"

"None. Go and attend to your duties."

The war machine of the tribe slowly started up, opening its bloody maw, swearing to devour all enemies. The peaceful life had come to an end.

"What was I planning to do today?" Azar muttered to himself. "Right, I, this bachelor, was supposed to confess my feelings today. How could I forget such an important matter? There is no time left; I can only send a Red Leaf Letter."

"Write a love letter to the one you love..."

Dearest Azara:

Please forgive this form of address. From the first time I saw you, I was captivated, becoming foolishly tongue-tied in your presence. Slowly, we grew closer. Everything you displayed seemed so wonderful to me; your voice was gentle and sweet when you spoke, and your attitude was rigorous and earnest when you worked. You are so special. When I am with you, my heartbeat quickens involuntarily; it no longer seems to belong to me, but has run off to you. When you laugh, it laughs; when you are happy, it is happy. If you show even a hint of unhappiness, it feels anxious. I thought our beautiful days had begun, but when I woke up the next day, you ignored me and began to distance yourself. Why is that? Could it all have been a dream? Is it because of my reward policy? I swear to our ancestors that I never intended to hurt you; I only wanted everyone to work harder, nothing more. Do you know? Ever since then, I feel as though nothing in my life is right. I don't even know how I managed to keep going; I am so sad, so heartbroken.

Do you know? Although my surname is Zarzan, I have never enjoyed a single day of noble life. My parents died in the Centennial War, and my sister raised me. I entered the military camp in my teens. I do not possess the sweet talk or romantic sentiments of those young masters; all I have known since childhood is life and death. I do not know how to express my feelings; no one taught me. I only know how to say "I love you."

I am going to war. Zhakun has fallen, and I must take his place to command the troops; the tribe needs victory. After I leave, please take good care of yourself. If I die in battle, I hope you will come to visit my grave. If I return in triumph, could you give me a chance?

Yours in love, Azar

If you have a thought in your heart, just do it; you might succeed. If you don't, you will never succeed. A man must be ruthless toward himself; a man must take the initiative and stop waiting for others to come to him.

Azar summoned the scout who had returned with the report to understand the situation on the front lines. According to the scout, the situation was dire. The troops were surrounded, and the entrance to Desolace had been sealed. It was unclear whose idea it was to have the Quillboar constantly harass the logistics supply lines of the elves—it truly struck at their Achilles' heel, as the supply line was quite long for them. Zhakun's death was attributed to his pride; he carried the fixed mindset from the start of the war and did not value the enemy's diplomatic maneuvers. He had intended to win with fewer numbers, but ended up being surrounded. He died while leading the charge to break through. The breakout failed, the enemy won, but they chose to surround the remaining troops without attacking.

"My lord, the brothers are still waiting for our reinforcements. Let us go and save them quickly."

"Do not be anxious. I will avenge the fallen brothers. Come here and point it out to me. Try to recall carefully: besides the trolls and the Quillboar, were there any other troops?" Azar beckoned him to the map and had him mark the locations of both camps.

"We are here now, and the enemy is stationed here, here, and here. Besides the Quillboar harassing the supply lines, there are also Centaur. They have the bodies of horses and the heads of men, moving as fast as the wind, and their combat power is very strong."

The camp was surrounded on three sides—seemingly leaving one side open to offer a path of survival—but the road of retreat was blocked by the Quillboar. The troops were exhausted, and their commander was dead. Isn't this a classic "besiege a point to strike reinforcements" tactic? Their appetite is truly something. It seems the wild nature of the trolls is innate: if you strike me, I will destroy you. And the Quillboar and Centaur—what are they trying to do? A three-way battle? No, although the Quillboar and Centaur are intelligent beings, they are quite primitive and lack any concept of civilization. What do they want? Perhaps they just want to take advantage? No, at least not entirely. Why did they appear just as the enemy was counterattacking?

Why didn't they appear when the elven troops were making smooth progress at the start of the war?

"I ask you, before you arrived in Feralas, did you see the troops of the Quillboar and the Centaur?" Azar suddenly thought of something and asked hurriedly.

"I did. They sent people into the camp to negotiate. I don't know what was discussed, but they looked very angry when they left."

That must be it. They must have tried to extort something and, failing, decided to bite back. Zhakun had no brains; why didn't he stabilize them first? Let them ask for the sky, and you can negotiate the price down. Now he has gotten himself killed.

"Muru, go now. Prepare twenty extra carts of daily necessities in the logistics supplies, and two more carts of luxury goods—the kind that are very beautiful but have no practical use. If you can't find them or don't know how to, go to the base and ask Azara for advice."

I will let you be arrogant for two days. A real man knows when to bend and when to stretch. I will treat you like a grandfather for now, but once I finish off the trolls, you will see what's coming to you. Military and diplomacy cannot be handled in isolation. In the current situation, the elves should first resolve their relationship with the Quillboar and the Centaur before focusing all their efforts on the trolls.

The next day, the troops were assembled: a 2,000-man infantry regiment, 1,000 Elf Hunter (the early name was used for convenience; those not yet modified will be renamed later), a 12-man mage observation squad, and a 300-man Sorcerer Team (belonging to the logistics and medical support units, which will be transformed into priests later). They marched out of the city amidst the farewells of the entire tribe. Azar looked back at the crowd, and this time, he finally found Azara. "She came to see me off."