Sylvanas had expected this and accepted the order without any argument.
After this major failure, she had also begun to reflect on her own mindset.
Competitive as she was, she had wanted to surpass her elder sister Alleria as soon as possible. Ignoring the advice of her seniors and colleagues, she had single-mindedly sought a great achievement. Although she had ultimately avoided making too grave a mistake...
Looking at the hideous scar on Charlemagne's face, how could she not see it as a mark of her own shame?
Let me return to where I started, properly adjust my mindset, and study seriously. Next time! Next time, I absolutely won't make such an utterly stupid mistake again!
While Sylvanas clenched her fists and swore to herself, Lireesa had already made arrangements for what came next.
The Trolls had entered the forest and left by shortcuts. The elves knew the forests around Zul'Aman less well than the Trolls did, and recklessly pursuing them into the woods would only make it easy to fall into an ambush. Everyone still remembered the crushing defeat ten years ago perfectly clearly.
Although the Trolls' main force had not suffered a devastating blow, both battlefronts had inflicted considerable casualties on them over the past few days by relying on fortifications and defensive positions.
What they needed to do now was actually quite simple: advance by conventional means and blockade Zul'Aman's gates. Everything depended on the Trolls' next move.
If they hunkered down to defend and stopped coming out, this war would end here. After leaving behind the necessary scouts to monitor the Trolls' movements, Lireesa could lead the main army home.
But from what the ranger-general knew of Zul'jin, he was not someone who admitted defeat so easily. With his main force still intact, he would almost certainly make one final gamble.
After a steady march brought them to Zul'Aman, Lireesa specifically summoned Skarren from Farstriders Camp. Their opponents would probably continue deploying their elite combatants this time, so the strength of the Farstriders' acting commander was also essential.
"You actually have the nerve to come crawling back! You two muscle-brained idiots ruined such an excellent situation!"
At Zul'Aman's altar, a tall forest Troll whose face was concealed below the nose by purple cloth roared furiously at Halazzi and Nalorakk below the platform.
This Troll was none other than Zul'jin, leader of the forest Trolls' Amani Tribe.
Halazzi and Nalorakk, whom he had struck with poisoned needles as punishment, were kneeling on one knee with agonized expressions, enduring intense pain throughout their bodies.
This poison, personally concocted by Zul'jin, would not kill them, but it certainly would not feel pleasant. Even these two strong-willed Advanced Warriors could not withstand a poison created specifically for torture.
"Zul... 'jin, please give us one more... chance. We'll make up for our failure!"
"That's right! We... we'll offer you the heads... of all those long-ears. The Amani will surely rise again!"
Hearing his two subordinates force those broken words through gritted teeth, Zul'jin snorted coldly and waved to a hexer beside him.
The hexer nodded in understanding and stepped forward to give the two of them antidotes. After drinking them, the two Advanced Warriors finally stopped sweating like fountains. They exchanged a look of lingering fear, then remained kneeling before Zul'jin to await his orders.
"Fine, I'll give you two one more chance. If you fail again, just wait to be turned into mojo!"
"Akil'zon! Go with these two this time. Don't mess this up!"
A Troll wearing eagle feathers knelt on one knee to accept the order.
"Yes, great Zul'jin!"
After the last remaining Troll fighting forces, apart from Zul'jin's personal guard, were assigned to the three of them, they each led their troops swiftly toward the outskirts of Zul'Aman.
The hexer who had just handed over the antidotes asked in puzzlement, "Great Zul'jin, why don't you personally take the field and deal with these elves? With your strength approaching the peak of the Heroic rank, you should be able to crush these long-ears easily, shouldn't you?"
Zul'jin shook his head and sighed. "You think I don't want to, Malacrass?"
"But once I enter the battle, the current ranger-general will certainly take up that artifact longbow to face me. That artifact... gains far too much power in this forest. Even I wouldn't come out ahead against her."
Hex Lord Malacrass nodded. "I understand. So that's why neither side commits its top fighters, and instead uses its troops to contest the outcome?"
"Yes... life has been far too hard for the Amani Trolls. Who knows when these days will finally end..."
Lireesa gave a contemptuous smile as she looked at the Troll army that appeared before Zul'Aman's gates and the three commanders leading it.
"Heh... just as I expected. That coward Zul'jin still doesn't dare take the field himself. Has he sent another capable subordinate this time? Akil'zon..."
Charlemagne looked at the lean, wiry Troll opposite them, blue eagle feathers adorning his head. As he heard Lireesa speak the name, he recalled who their opponent was.
Akil'zon had been chosen as the avatar of the Spirit of the Eagle in history. At this point, before encountering the Orcs of the Old Horde, he had yet to become a Shaman and was merely a hexer.
"Same as before. Since Zul'jin isn't making a move, I'll leave these Trolls to you. I'll only stay behind you to provide support."
Since Zul'jin still refused to come out, Lireesa comfortably delegated command and combat authority to her deputies, intending to use this opportunity to train the troops.
Although Sylvanas had temporarily been stripped of all rank, she was still the ranger-general's daughter and the next ranger-general. If she actually issued orders, who would refuse to listen?
Of course, with Queen Xi's pride, she certainly would not do such a thing. This time, she mainly wanted to observe how others commanded on the front lines.
Yawen and Skarren, the two battle-hardened veterans, were both entrusted with important responsibilities. Charlemagne likewise led his own squad of rangers to the very front.
Staring sharply at Halazzi opposite him, Charlemagne could not help touching the scar on his face.
"Uncle Yawen, Commander Skarren, leave Halazzi to Sylvanas and me again this time. I'll use this battle to wipe away my shame!"
Sylvanas said nothing. She simply drew her longbow and stood beside Charlemagne, making her position clear.
Yawen and Skarren exchanged a look, and both smiled with gratification.
"Excellent! You have to reclaim your lost dignity yourselves. Go! We'll help you hold off Nalorakk and the main Troll force!"
Lianda, the leader of the mages, also looked confidently at the lean, wiry Troll in the distance.
"Leave Akil'zon to me. It's been a long time since I fought an actual battle against a hexer. I'm really looking forward to it."
Halazzi had clearly noticed Charlemagne's fixed stare as well. He smiled disdainfully and drew his thumb across his neck in a throat-slitting gesture.
As rhythmic drumbeats sounded from behind the Troll lines, their main force once again attacked the High Elves' positions under the leadership of the three commanders.
And unless something unexpected happened... this battle would decide the outcome of the entire war.
(End of chapter)