Although Blade Tusk found their behavior both amusing and exasperating, he still felt rather pleased inside.
Whether they truly liked him or not, at this moment, they had all chosen "protection" without prior agreement.
Did that, to some extent, prove that his value to the tribe had already become a widespread consensus?
Pondering this almost unquestionable matter, Blade Tusk rode the moose leader up before the enemy's three chieftains.
His mount, standing four and a half meters at the shoulder, was as reliable as ever.
From afar, perhaps it did not feel like much.
But when the four trolls truly gathered together, the disparity in "size" created quite a formidable deterrent among the many trolls on both sides.
Becoming the backdrop that made someone else look "tall" was intolerable among trolls, who regarded brawn as beauty—especially for the chieftains of each side.
The leaders had originally intended to say a few perfunctory words, but now they did not wish to linger beside Blade Tusk for even a moment.
In extremely crude Troll Language, they briefly stated their intentions and agreed on the time and place for the battle to begin, then hurriedly left the front lines.
They did not want to be made to look short for even one second longer.
'The enemy will launch their attack after the time it takes to walk a hundred paces ten times.'
Bearing this news, Blade Tusk returned to his own lines with the bearing of a victor.
Within the formation, the trolls were cheering because they had seen the enemy's three leaders get "scared away" by their own leader.
Seeing that morale was high, Blade Tusk promptly added fuel to the fire. Riding his tall moose around the formation, he shouted, "My brethren, the enemy trolls are shameless!! They have violated the