Coincidental Encounter with the Cave Tree King

Standing on the balcony, Lanlos cast his deep blue gaze toward the distance with a solemn expression.

This was a simple room located within a high tower; a desk, a bed, and nothing else—not a single decoration or piece of furniture to be found.

The most conspicuous feature was the tightly sealed door, which radiated a dense aura of magic. It was clear: he was under house arrest.

Vereesa's words had taken effect. Although Landral and her colleagues were deeply dissatisfied with him, they had not thrown him into the cages reserved for the Darkpine Troll.

Yet, he felt no joy. The values displayed by Landral and her group had dealt him a massive shock, making him realize that this world was not only different from his previous life in terms of power, but also vastly divergent in many other aspects.

But to call it wrong? He found he could not bring himself to say it.

Since its founding, Quel'Thalas had been struggling for survival. The High Elf yearned for immense power and a life of luxury and comfort. In their eyes, the more capable one was, the more superior they should be, and the more they deserved treatment far above that of ordinary people.

This mindset had successfully spurred generation after generation of High Elf to pursue knowledge and power. Expanding the military and fostering prosperity—none of this could be separated from the people's desire for higher status and better treatment.

This world was not peaceful, so it was only natural for people to yearn for power and influence. However, this yearning had inevitably formed a social hierarchy of contempt and massive class contradictions. It was only because of the cover provided by external threats like the trolls that the utilitarianism born from the ruling class of Quel'Thalas had not yet caused too much damage to this prosperous kingdom.

As for the future isolation, the post-disaster reconstruction, and the eventual schism, these were things they could not foresee. They only saw that in the pursuit of power and influence, the Quel'dorei were gradually moving toward prosperity.

Was this wrong?

Lanlos did not know how to evaluate it.

This was already the second day. Aside from someone delivering daily necessities and food, Lanlos had seen no one else. Clearly, Landral and her followers were still busy dealing with the Fel crystal.

With a long sigh, Lanlos sat on the floor of the balcony, feeling the sunlight slowly bring warmth to his cheeks, and his state of mind gradually calmed.

When in Rome, do as the Romans do. This world might seem complex, but it followed one iron law that differed from anywhere in his past life.

Might is everything.

Individuals in this world possessed potential far exceeding that of his previous life. Magic, in particular, could even allow mortals to gain the power to contend with gods.

As long as he was strong enough, whether he wanted to settle down or make a name for himself in this world, he would have a fighting chance.

As for the present, he had to find a way to escape.

He knew he was innocent. Once his name was cleared, these troubles would naturally be handled by the magi of the Silvermoon Council.

As long as Landral didn't trip him up...

His brow tightened as Lanlos turned to look at the tightly closed door, upon which a faint magical glow suddenly began to circulate.

"You've come." Watching the figure walk into the room, Lanlos offered a simple greeting before turning his attention back to the distance.

"You don't seem surprised." Landral waved her hand, and the door closed automatically.

"It's not mealtime, and in the entire Eastern Temple, no one but you would open this door." Shrugging, the young mage said quite casually.

Without replying, the magus walked slowly toward Lanlos, also fixing her gaze outside the tower: "I didn't expect you, kid, to have such influence at Fastherin."

Lanlos was startled; he turned his head and saw the letter in her hand.

"I imagine this is news brought back by those students of yours, though I didn't expect Alona to care so much about a new teaching assistant like you." Weighing the item in her hand, Landral's face wore a smile again, though it remained as haughty as ever.

"It seems you haven't brought me good news." After a brief silence, no joy welled up in Lanlos's heart.

"Unfortunately, her message arrived a step too late." A tongue of fire flared up, and the crimson flames instantly devoured the negotiation letter sent by the academy. The magus clapped her hands, letting the ashes scatter in the wind, as if she were completely unaware that her actions would offend another magus, or even the entire academy.

No, in fact, she did not believe that a mere weak teaching assistant would lead to such consequences.

Seeing this, Lanlos's brow knitted into a knot: "What do you mean?"

"The Farstrider Enclave has been attacked by trolls, and they sent a request for help this morning. I wrote your name on the aid list—unfortunately, just before this letter arrived."

"I am not under your jurisdiction." Looking directly into her eyes, Lanlos's voice carried a faint trace of anger. He was under house arrest; how could he be assigned to a support team? It must be that after Alona's negotiation letter arrived, this woman simply refused to let him go.

Her deep-seated belief in power and status did not allow Lanlos, who had offended her, to remain unscathed.

"The temple is under attack, and I and the other spellcasters have more important things to do. Besides, this is a military order. As a teaching assistant at Fastherin, are you only capable of empty talk?"

Landral smiled happily. The more unwilling, angry, and helpless the other party was in this situation, the more it proved her philosophy was correct.

The weak are useless.

"This is your chance to make amends for your mistakes. Don't thank me too much..."

The Farstrider Enclave and the Eastern Temple were separated only by the Erendal River. Walking across the bridge, Lanlos looked back at the high tower reflecting brilliant light in the sun, as if Landral were watching him make a fool of himself from somewhere.

But at this moment, there was no anger on his face. The more extreme Landral's attitude was, the more it stimulated him. In this world, the most important thing he should do was not to become a ridiculous fool out of anger, but to survive and strengthen himself. He needed to have the ability and the confidence to say 'no' when facing fate or others.

Taking a deep breath, the elven mage focused his attention on the outpost not far ahead, and his brows could not help but knit together tightly.

This was the heart of Quel'Thalas. What kind of trolls had the ability to bypass the layers of defense on the front lines and appear at the rear camp of the ranger troops, the Farstrider Enclave?

Lanlos's brows drew together again, and solemnity and worry filled his mind.

He had not forgotten the alliance between the Darkpine Troll and the Burning Legion. At this critical juncture, these trolls, who had gone to such lengths to cross most of Quel'Thalas, were surely not just a small raiding party as the report suggested? Hah, how could that be?

Watching the bustling camp ahead, Lanlos gradually became lost in thought. The rhythmic shouts of battle reaching his ears did not make the furrows between his brows disappear.

It must be said that Landral probably never imagined what a massive blow the decision to send Lanlos to the battlefield would be to him.

The alliance between demons and trolls was inextricably linked to the Sargerite Keystone he carried. He currently had no ability to protect himself; walking onto a battlefield of elves and trolls was almost equivalent to handing his life over to the demons.

Therefore, he was not considering how to earn merit at this moment; on the contrary, he was even contemplating whether to take advantage of the chaos of battle to sneak away.

What? For the Quel'dorei?

Don't joke around. Although his half-year stay in Golden Branch Village had given him a favorable impression of this group, his friends were already dead. As a disgrace to the High Elf race, he had never received decent treatment at either the academy or the temple. Coupled with his recent encounter at the Eastern Temple, it was generous enough that he hadn't developed a hatred for this race.

Furthermore, despite the Farstrider Enclave being the rear base for the ranger forces, it had been established many years ago during the standoff against the trolls. Nowadays, the front line had been pushed far to the south, and under the leadership of the Ranger General, most warriors were stationed year-round in the vicinity of the Windrunner Spire and Zul'Aman.

Those remaining here were mostly Farstrider recruits or the elderly, weak, and disabled who were about to retire.

They even needed help to fend off a small group of trolls; their combat capability was evident.

As a spellcaster, whether the warriors on the front line could block the enemy's advance was the fundamental reason for their survival. But a unit like this... no wonder Landral had only sent low-level apprentices.

Such thoughts didn't just flash through the mind of Lanlos; the other mages accompanying him had more or less the same concerns.

At least, for the time being.

"Welcome, welcome. I am truly sorry for the trouble." A handsome man with golden hair tied back walked toward them. Upon seeing Lanlos and the four young spellcasters accompanying him, a flicker of dissatisfaction crossed his face, but he quickly returned to a smile.

A formulaic smile.

Lanlos did not speak. As a 'suspect,' he certainly wouldn't be the commander of this support mission.

"Captain, the mission Lady Landral assigned to us is to support the battle, but where are the trolls?" The condescending tone made Lanlos want to laugh.

He was merely a Tier 3 mage. Given this captain's attributes and abilities, it would be no difficult task to kill him in two rounds. Really... where did he get the confidence to be so arrogant?

Clearly, the captain was thinking the same thing as Lanlos: "From the moment you walked in here, you have been soldiers under my command. Unless you have a higher military rank than me, otherwise... Mage, are you trying to commit insubordination?"

The captain's words were like throat-sealing poison, causing the face of the mage leading the group to change drastically, yet he could find no effective retort. Lanlos couldn't help but cover his face.

How embarrassing...

However, this small gesture was noticed by the captain: "Is this a new face? Won't you introduce yourself?"

The group of young mages cast their gazes toward Lanlos, who had been deliberately distanced and ignored. Come to think of it, they hadn't really paid attention to his name.

With his right hand over his chest, Lanlos slowly bowed to the other man: "Lanlos, teaching assistant at Fastherin. It is an honor to work with you."

Unknown

High Elf

Strength 17, Agility 23, Intelligence 14, Constitution 13, Perception 15, Charisma 12

As mentioned before, for a spellcaster, one's life and safety are inseparable from the warriors on the front line. After using Sargerite to view the other's attributes, Lanlos could basically confirm that this captain was likely one of the strongest combatants in the camp.

Getting on his good side would definitely be a good thing for the upcoming battle.

It seemed the captain wasn't accustomed to this noble etiquette, but Lanlos's respectful attitude was very well-received. He returned the salute rather awkwardly and said with a very bright smile: "Lor'themar, Ranger Captain, currently serving as an instructor at the Farstrider Enclave."

!!!

This golden-haired youth, he was actually the pilot of the Tree-Hole King, Ah-Qiang?!