I've planned out the protagonist and the skills in this book like this: the protagonist has innate knowledge, and I've drawn on some game settings. He'll be well-rounded in melee combat, with some skills from the Warrior, Rogue, and Paladin classes. The key is to make the skills fit actual combat. I won't include game skills that don't make sense, and I'll try to use the names from the game wherever possible, though I'll add some of my own interpretations here and there. Other characters will generally have skills from their own classes, with reasonable wish fulfillment and no absurd power-ups. The plot will follow history, with perhaps a few slight changes to the order of events. Thank you all for your support.
The battle ended after the Earth Princess unleashed her ultimate attack. Once she'd used it, she was too exhausted to fight on. Azar had wanted to go over and cut her down, but he held back, keeping the plans ahead in mind. The battlefield was a mess, strewn with corpses. Neither side had gained the upper hand, and both were too exhausted to keep fighting. The Quillboar fled in every direction, with no time even to tend to their fallen comrades.
"Daphne, have our people burn all the bodies of those killed in battle. Then go see the Quillboar and tell them our plans for what comes next. If they refuse, we go to war!" After speaking, Azar walked away without looking back. He'd killed plenty of people, but this was the first battle he'd ever experienced that had been so brutal. Looking at the severed limbs and mangled bodies littering the ground, Azar had nearly thrown up. Still, not bad—he'd made the transition from a raw recruit to a veteran.
After finishing the job, he brushed off his sleeves and left, concealing his achievements. With the battle over, Azar began preparing for what came next. He sat alone in his command tent, pondering. Both the Quillboar and the Centaur had been badly battered; they needed time to consolidate their forces and recover. Azar meant to keep them at each other's throats, bleeding each other slowly. He would strike whoever started to gain the upper hand. Maintaining the balance would serve him best. The longer and bloodier their conflict, the less likely peace would ever come. The Night Elves only needed to station a force at the entrance to Feralas and use supply stations along the way to control all of Desolace. Honestly, Desolace's resources held no appeal for Azar. It would be a neglected backwater in the future, and he had no intention of investing much effort in it. What he cared about was Feralas! It was a strategic thoroughfare between north and south, with a pleasant climate and abundant resources—a fine place to build a base. Even the Great Sundering had little effect on it, and in the future it wouldn't have to face the Horde or the Ahn'Qiraj Bug-men. Just look at how comfortably the creatures of Dire Maul lived. As for fighting, that was what had him stumped. With his army's current strength, sweeping through the west would be no problem, especially since there weren't many civilized intelligent beings around yet. But what good would that do him? Or would the Night Elves still end up with the same fate if history simply ran its course? His life had no meaning at all. He hadn't lived up to the standards of a proper transmigrator. Azar, what should you do? Think carefully. What did you want? A powerful army, under your control and completely obedient to you; people deeply influenced by you, who would follow you through great upheavals—or at least not oppose you. You also needed territory, where you could spread new ideas. Great! Start with a school. The land needed to be far enough from the center of power to be politically independent and keep authority concentrated. Just like Wu Sangui: he chose remote Yunnan, far from the emperor's reach. The Qing thought they were exiling him, while he was delighted. A single round trip took nearly half a year—wasn't that practically handing him a kingdom of his own? Right! He'd follow Wu Sangui's example. Wasn't that treacherous dog's greatest talent building up his own power by fostering a threat? That was perfect. He'd build an entirely new Eldre'Thalas, a city of his own: the Night Elves' City of Hope.
"Daphne, I'd like to hear your thoughts on our army's next move." The troops began marching toward the crossroads in Feralas. Muru had been left behind to carry out the rest of the plan. As they traveled, Azar's boredom stirred up his old urge to teach.
"The Troll coalition has already been broken up. Next, we'll have to face them directly. I wonder how many of our people are still alive." A trace of sorrow flashed through Daphne's eyes. Then she spoke with renewed resolve. "Some of them must still be holding out. The Quillboar and Centaur both said they fought bravely, and the Trolls don't seem to be trying to wipe them out. If we hadn't shown up, they wouldn't have died. They still have a chance."
"You're being a little too optimistic. There really isn't much time left for them—or for us."
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"Why?"
"The Quillboar's withdrawal was the first signal. They know we're here, but their job was only to harass and ambush supply convoys. They weren't the main force in the encirclement, so their movements won't make the Trolls suspicious. The Centaur withdrawal, though, is a much bigger deal. The Trolls will definitely investigate why those troops pulled back and dig into the details about us: how many soldiers we have, how strong we are, and so on. Half the Centaur force hasn't withdrawn yet. When they leave and where they go are both things we need to consider."
"So we might have to face a second wave of Centaur reinforcements, then attack a weak point in the Trolls' encirclement and make contact with our people. Once we join forces, we'll decide whether to fight, and how. The initiative will be ours."
"Exactly. That's a very thorough analysis. Give the order: spread our scouts out fifty miles." Azar issued the command decisively.
A battlefield was much like a casino: you had to keep reading your opponent—and you needed luck. Of course, before a battle began, both sides tried to learn as much as possible about each other. That was where intelligence came in. When both sides were evenly matched, the one who came prepared while the other was caught off guard was more likely to win. If neither side had much intelligence, then it came down to how sharp their minds were and whether they could think clearly. The Night Elves were clearly more civilized, so under Azar's brilliant command, they had defeated the Quillboar and Centaur. As for the Trolls, honestly, he didn't care that much about them. What mattered was how to use the coming war to train his troops and build a dependable army.
At that very moment, his opponent was studying him too.
"Loa above, we've made tremendous sacrifices, and we were so close to succeeding! Those damn Quillboar and Centaur—they really are born scum! Brain-dead beasts!" A Troll with a thick coat of hair roared furiously inside the tent. The guards crouched off to one side, looking straight ahead as if none of this had anything to do with them. With a bang, he hurled another wine cup to the floor. The Troll seated at the head of the table seemed unable to take it any longer—or perhaps he'd simply grown tired of the noise—and spoke up to stop him. "Enough, Vol'ken. Stop venting pointlessly. We should be thinking about how to defeat the Night Elf reinforcements, not wasting our energy here!" His voice had grown noticeably sharper toward the end.
"Fine, Eugene. I don't have any ideas. You know I've always followed your orders." If Azar had been there, he would've given him a thumbs-up. Kid, you may be big and burly, but you've mastered sucking up to the boss and buttering him up.
"Actually, we don't need a plan. Zhakun is dead, and Zarzan doesn't have anyone worth mentioning left. Otherwise, they wouldn't have made that humiliating mass migration before. Send the order: surround them from three sides! Leave no survivors!"
"Hahaha, now that's what I like! We should've done that ages ago!"
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. I'm going to give the order."
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