Zeb'Watha

The other mages also began casting spells at will, picking off the Trolls in sight. The Elves switched to arrows enchanted with explosions and fired them into the Troll outpost. Even the Warriors driven berserk by Voodoo could not escape death; they merely took a couple more arrows.

Soon, flames flared throughout the Troll camp, and Troll screams rang out without end. The battle had barely begun before it was drawing to a close.

After the battle, Patrick entered the Troll outpost. The buildings and gate were almost entirely destroyed. A Troll altar stood in the middle, blood still bubbling in the center of its stone slab. The smell of hex magic turned the Elves' stomachs.

Patrick casually destroyed the altar with a fireball. The foul-smelling pus and blood evaporated in the heat with a hiss.

The Trolls' land was indeed fertile. One step on the black soil could practically squeeze oil out of it. There were also plenty of maggots in the dark earth; it seemed that rotting corpses had nourished this land for a long time.

The Troll priest had been struck in the back by two explosive arrows and died on the spot. The troops began disposing of the Troll corpses, burning them outright.

"This is a Troll outpost, probably meant to provide an early warning for Zeb'Watha," Alleria explained to Patrick.

The troops continued onward, finding no further traces of Trolls nearby. Mind Vision spread out, confirming that no Trolls could be found in the surrounding area.

Patrick knew that Zeb'Watha had been built beside Lake Elrendar, deep within the Life Forest. Its position against the mountains and beside the water made it easy to defend and difficult to attack.

It was nearly evening when Alleria found a good campsite. Night fell, and the Life Forest grew exceptionally cold. Bathed in moonlight, the camp took on a hazy beauty. Patrick stepped out of his tent and sat beside the remains of the extinguished fire.

This was his second encounter with Troll priests. Through a kind of dance, herbs, and offerings to their gods, they drew power from those Animal Gods to restore their people's health, improve their fighting strength, and so on.

They would be entering a Troll camp this time, so he needed to carefully analyze and understand how Troll spellcasters fought. The more intelligence they had, the easier it would be to fight the enemy. After all, "know yourself and your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles."

Patrick did not sleep or rest. With Ellen's presence, he had ample mental power and continued probing for activity nearby. Patrick sensed a yellow-green mist shrouding the southeast, thick with the scent of hex magic. His mind could not penetrate it, so he could only project his mental power around its edges.

"Still not resting?" A melodious voice came from behind him.

Patrick saw that it was Alleria. "No, meditation is enough for me. I'm trying to scout the surrounding area for any potential threats."

Alleria sat down beside Patrick. "Do you know how many years it's been since Quel'Thalas last had an Elf as hardworking as you?"

Patrick looked at Alleria. Sensing that she had more to say, he did not respond.

"Are you working so hard to improve because you want to join the Silvermoon Council? Over the past few months, your military achievements at the East Sanctum have been nothing short of outstanding. Everyone has been won over by your military talent. Your expertise in arcane magic, especially conjuration and enchanting, has shone throughout the Sanctum. Unlike the other mages with their extravagant lives, you seem to be in a hurry, rushing to raise your level of arcane mastery. What makes you so impatient?" Alleria followed Patrick's gaze, meeting his eyes.

Patrick gazed at Alleria for several seconds. In the moonlight, the female Elf was now breathtakingly beautiful.

Patrick pointed at his eyes, which constantly leaked arcane energy. "For this." Then he looked straight at Alleria.

Puzzled, the female Elf examined Patrick's eyes closely. There was nothing in them but her own reflection.

"Hmm?" The muscles in Alleria's arms and forehead tightened. In several centuries, this was the first time the female Elf had encountered an Elf like Patrick. "That isn't an answer. Your eyes tell me you're brushing me off."

Patrick smiled, still looking earnestly at Alleria. "But there's no other answer in my eyes,

is there?" "You're a bold mage, with a touch of cunning beneath that boldness." Alleria smiled too, turning to look at the embers.

The two sat in silence. Something was slowly beginning to sprout.

Late into the night, Patrick still did not return to his tent to sleep. He released arcane energy, covering himself and Alleria with a Thermal Regulation Spell and a wind-blocking barrier, and the two rested briefly.

At the first faint light of dawn, Alleria rose and readied her gear. The other rangers got up one after another, packed their belongings, and buried the campfire. Everyone ate the Elven biscuits they had brought, then continued along their planned route.

Along the way, Hawkspear edged over cautiously and said, "In all these years, you're the first Elf who's dared to flirt with Marshal Alleria."

As a veteran ranger, Hawkspear naturally had exceptionally sharp hearing, so it was no surprise that he had overheard them.

Just then, Alleria turned her gaze toward them and gave Hawkspear a long look. By the same reasoning, if Hawkspear could hear his conversation with Alleria last night, Alleria could hear Hawkspear's teasing now.

Patrick pictured it: That look was like two heavy arrows through the heart. Hawkspear ought to be pinned dead to a tree by those two arrows now.

As they drew closer to the Troll settlement of Zeb'Watha, the smell of hex magic grew stronger. Idonis and Candiris were already beginning to find the stench unbearable, feeling sick and nauseated.

The soil underfoot grew darker, and the smell of decay within it grew stronger. With his experience from his previous life, Patrick knew that this humus-rich earth was soil with good properties and high fertility, exceptionally suited to plant growth. In his previous life, there had been only four stretches of black soil in the entire world. The Trolls occupied such fine land yet did not know how to farm it. It was an utter waste.

Patrick remembered that his previous world had only four major black-soil regions: the Ukraine Plain in Ukraine, the Mississippi Plain in the United States, the Northeast Plain in China, and the Pampas stretching from Argentina to Uruguay in South America. Every one of them was a breadbasket of the world.

Patrick now needed room to develop. Silvermoon City was dominated by powerful old families, and his own family merely survived in the gaps between them. Naturally, Patrick's first choice was space outside the city. Troll territory might be a good option.

Zeb'Watha was already in sight. The Troll fortress had only one main route for a frontal assault, with mountains to its left and Lake Elrenmir to its right, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack. It was the Trolls' main fortress for holding the Life Forest and the East Sanctum in check. If they could eliminate it in one stroke this time, the entire Life Forest would fall into Silvermoon City's hands.

The Trolls' two-story wooden buildings stood before them. Inside the fortress, the troops were already arrayed for battle. Witch Doctors readied bottles and jars, raising ritual implements to begin blessing the Troll Warriors. Shadow priests prepared their incantations, while axe throwers and berserkers gripped their weapons tightly, veins bulging on their arms as they prepared to fight.