Vol'jin's approach wasn't wrong. When you had overwhelming strength, there was no need to overthink things. Just keep attacking all the way through. But he'd made one mistake: he wasn't the one with overwhelming strength. Cannons blasting and infantry charging was a classic modern warfare tactic for good reason. Against primitive forces, Arcane Missiles, Fireball, and Frostbolt were every bit as deadly to infantry as Earth's missiles. Yes, the ones relentlessly attacking were the Elf troops. Azar no longer held back. The mage squad opened fire at full strength, striking across the field, with melee fighters charging at the front and archers providing suppressive fire behind them. The same tactics that had just crushed the Centaur were now being used to torment the Troll army.
"Sir, why did you choose this moment to launch the full assault? If we'd come earlier, we could have saved more people." Daphne sounded a little reproachful.
"You don't understand. They've been held down for far too long. If we'd appeared before the Trolls launched their full assault, they would have become a burden to us. But by arriving while they were under fierce attack, we turned them into a powerful strike force. The power of people who've been suppressed for too long is astonishing. Besides, I need elite troops—nothing less than the best. This is the tribe's last traditional force. When this battle ends, a new era will begin, and the tribe's military will undergo a tremendous transformation. They represent the past; we represent the future. The old powers won't give in so easily. Do you think they'll just accept new ideas and new forces? Is that even possible? Zhakun has been campaigning abroad for years without ever returning home. Doesn't that strike you as strange? And isn't it strange that this army hasn't received any new recruits?"
"Sir, is this what you call politics? It feels like killing without spilling blood," Daphne asked, seeming to grasp something.
"No. This is the progress of civilization. It kills without spilling blood, too—and it kills more people." Azar spoke meaningfully.
"Have you taken care of what I asked you to arrange?"
"Everything's ready. The messenger has already left. As for Eugene, he should be far away by now."
"How many prisoners do we have? We can't build a great city without enough labor."
"About ten thousand Centaur so far. Including the Trolls, I'd estimate thirteen thousand."
"Still a little short. What about the Quillboar?"
"No news yet, but I doubt they'll be much help. They've lost quite a few in battle, too."
"We'll have to make do. You can't eat more than you can manage. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all. Come on, let's check on our wounded brothers."
"Rome? What's that? Is it something to eat?" Daphne muttered in confusion.
"What are you mumbling about? Let's go!"
Zarzan Tribe Council Hall
"Beautifully done!" the High Sorcerer exclaimed excitedly, holding the battle report.
"Indeed. Not only did he capture Feralas and more than double our territory, he also secured our western flank. We should reward the young man handsomely."
"Chieftain, I believe the time has come for us to found a nation," the High Sorcerer proposed, visibly excited.
"Oh? Let's hear it." The Chieftain seemed intrigued.
"The old powers no longer have the strength to stop us. The army is in our hands now." The High Sorcerer looked confident, as if victory were already assured.
"Our strength is still limited. I'm worried the Four Great Tribes will interfere. In name, we're still subjects of the Zandalari." The Chieftain seemed hesitant.
"That's not a problem. We can remain subjects of the Zandalari and give them no excuse to attack us. The Drakkari have gone far to the north and vanished without a trace. The Amani are too far away to reach us. The Gurubashi are constantly dealing with internal strife and have no time to meddle in our affairs. We can take advantage of our expanded territory to found a nation, establish new policies, grow our population, let the people recover and prosper, keep refining our Arcane studies, and strengthen our military. Give us just twenty years, and I believe we'll have nothing to fear from the Zandalari. Look at us now. How much do we still have in common with them? How many of our people still worship the Loa? The younger generation now worships the moon goddess Elune. Make the decision, Chieftain. This is the best time." The High Sorcerer spoke at length, persuading the Chieftain.
"Your analysis is sound. The time has come to found a nation. Make the arrangements." The Chieftain was convinced and decided to establish a country.
The High Sorcerer was delighted and about to leave when the Chieftain called him back.
"Do you think there's a chance between your disciple and my nephew...?" The Chieftain suddenly asked, leaving the thought unfinished.
"That's a stroke of genius! They're both the finest of the younger generation, and their union would mean that the tribe's two most powerful factions stood together. Perfect! What force could possibly stop us?" The High Sorcerer immediately understood the significance and eagerly agreed.
And just like that, as casually as two old men chatting, Azar and Azshara's fates were decided.
"By the way, Un, arrange the supplies Azar needs. We'll fully support his efforts to build up Feralas. We still have many formidable enemies, so we must keep our heads down and develop. And you should put in some effort with Azshara, too. Get her to agree to the marriage."
"Yes, Chieftain. I'll take care of it right away."
Cart after cart of supplies rolled into the newly built camp. With them came Elf craftsmen and a new unit, led by Falco.
"Why did they send you? How's everything back home?"
"After receiving your confidential letter, I began making arrangements. By the time I left, Numbers 3 and 8 had entered the Arcane base, though it's since been renamed Suramar. Number 7 has been assigned to the new army as a squad leader. Given his abilities, it won't be long before he can serve as a Centurion. Numbers 5, 7, 9, and 13 are the strongest, so I brought them to you. You need guards now, and Muru isn't strong enough."
"Well arranged. Anything else?" What Azar appreciated most about Falco was his steadiness. He was someone you could entrust with important matters.
"Maiev is already training a new unit. It's small, only five hundred, but the quality is excellent. They're all carefully selected recruits. I do feel there are a lot of women, though."
"That's up to her. We've done all we can; now it's up to her. Whether the troops she trains turn out elite or useless is her responsibility. Anything else?"
"The Chieftain and the High Sorcerer conferred for three days and nights. They're preparing to found a nation, which is very close to what you predicted."
"They're founding a nation already? Isn't that a bit soon?"
"Number 0 sent back word. Apparently... apparently..." What was wrong? Spit it out. This wasn't like you.
"Apparently, it has to do with you. On one hand, your victories have been remarkable. You've cleared out Desolace, giving us a secure western supply line. On the other hand, the Zhakun tribe was nearly wiped out, leaving the conservative faction without support. That's why the Chieftain and the High Sorcerer have accelerated their plans to found a nation."
"The last thing concerns your personal affairs. The Chieftain and the High Sorcerer want you to marry Miss Azshara. They sent me here to take over your position temporarily, so you can return home and marry her."
"Pfft!" Azar nearly choked on his water. What was this supposed to mean? They weren't following the script! A political marriage? Sure, he'd get the girl, but shouldn't she have a say in it?
"Since you're here, get to work. And don't let anyone bother me unless there's a reason. Your lord needs some peace and quiet!" Azar felt a little flustered.
He said he needed some peace and quiet. He could give you An'an, too!
Before you continue