Over the thousands of years of war between the High Elves and the Trolls, they had killed important enemy commanders many times, but taking one alive was truly rare.
Given the hatred between the two sides during the Troll Wars, most of the time they would simply slaughter the Trolls to vent their anger.
Although the High Elves had continued fighting localized wars against the Trolls after the Troll Wars ended, it had been over a thousand years since they had killed an important figure among the Amani Trolls.
After all, the Trolls knew this forest too, even better than the elves did. When these tall, long-legged fellows were determined to escape, even the High Elves struggled to catch them.
On the way back to the ranger garrison in Tranquillien, Lireesa looked at the dejected Halazzi in his cage and smiled in satisfaction.
"Charlemagne, His Majesty Anasterian will certainly reward you handsomely for capturing this fellow. Have you decided what reward you want?"
As his mentor, she naturally shared in the honor of her disciple earning such great merit on his very first battlefield, though this victory had not come without a price...
Looking at the long scar on Charlemagne's right cheek, Lireesa sighed with a pang of heartache.
And...
Her second daughter, Sylvanas, also felt deeply guilty about Charlemagne's injury. Ever since the battle ended, she had been avoiding him, occasionally stealing glances at him with a complicated expression.
Ah... I wonder if Alleria will blame me for failing to take care of her sweetheart when she returns.
Just then, Charlemagne's hearty laughter interrupted Lireesa's increasingly wandering thoughts.
"Haha, do you even need to ask, Mentor? Of course I want His Majesty the Sun King to grant me the artifact I've always dreamed of-Thori'dal, the Stars' Fury!"
Charlemagne looked full of high spirits as he rode slowly along on Swiftfeather. Even the pure-white Hawkstrider beneath him seemed to sense his master's buoyant mood, proudly raising his head as though borrowing his master's prestige.
Having lived long enough, Swiftfeather was cleverer than ordinary Hawkstriders. Charlemagne had even wondered whether this fellow might become a spirit someday...
"Hehe, just as I thought. Still, your achievement this time is great enough. We haven't won such a tremendous victory in at least a thousand years. But do you really not want power or money?"
"Your merit this time should be enough to secure you a mid-level official position, and the money would be enormous. Are you sure you've decided on your reward?"
Charlemagne nodded without hesitation at his mentor's questions.
"Power and money mean little to me. I've long since planned out my future, and becoming an official certainly isn't part of it!"
After all, in another sixteen years, the High Elves would face their first great catastrophe. What use would being an official be? As a mid-level official-and an amateur transferred from the military at that-it would be a miracle if those old hands in officialdom didn't toy with him to death.
As for money, no one would complain about having more, but with time pressing, Charlemagne still made improving his strength his first priority. His family had also left him a considerable sum. With only him and his younger brother Lor'themar in the family, even if they spent without earning anything, it would last them a long time.
Seeing her disciple's resolute expression, Lireesa nodded in approval.
"As long as you've made your decision. Your merit this time should be enough for you to be granted Thori'dal. What about afterward? Do you plan to join the Farstriders and travel abroad?"
"Yes, but before that, I'd like to develop myself further. First, I need to consolidate my realm. There's still a lot I don't understand about the advanced rank, and I hope you can clear things up for me, Mentor."
"No problem. Come find me after your audience with the king. For now, enjoy celebrating with everyone."
Celebrating a victory in grand style was a long-established High Elf tradition. Thanks to the scouts' reports, the military town of Tranquillien had already prepared a lavish celebration.
Lianda also wore a delighted smile. The results of this trip to gild her credentials had completely exceeded her expectations. Not only had they captured an important Troll commander alive, but during her fight against the hexer, she had also felt her bottleneck gradually loosening.
Eager to return to Silvermoon City and attempt a breakthrough, she promptly took her leave of Lireesa.
"General Windrunner, once we return to Tranquillien, I must teleport back to Silvermoon City to report this good news to His Majesty the Sun King. I won't be joining your celebration, so please forgive me."
Naturally, Lireesa understood Lianda's duties and nodded her agreement without taking offense.
"It's no trouble. If you have important business, Your Highness, please go ahead. I imagine His Majesty would also like to hear the news of our victory as soon as possible."
Lianda gracefully bowed in thanks. "Thank you for your understanding, General. The mages and priests under my command will decide for themselves whether to remain in Tranquillien for the celebration. Please look after them on my behalf."
"No problem. Leave them to me."
While the two leaders were talking, the young people had also struck up a conversation.
After being tempered by war, the formerly pampered young masters Sean Morningstrider and Lanas Bladesinger had both clearly matured considerably. Having experienced real warfare firsthand and faced Trolls himself, Xiao'en no longer called the rangers mudlegs.
Having previously lived in an ivory tower, only on this trip to gild his credentials had he truly come to appreciate these rangers' importance and hardships. After fighting alongside Charlemagne several times, their relationship had also improved considerably.
One of the four great bonds between men was bearing arms together. Xiao'en's brilliant performance at a critical moment had changed Charlemagne's poor opinion of him, while Charlemagne's battle to avenge his humiliation despite his injury, breaking through in the midst of combat, had also made Xiao'en see him in a new light.
The two had already agreed to drink themselves senseless together once they returned to Tranquillien. Lannath, by contrast, rather reservedly stated that he would return to Silvermoon City with Commander Lianda to report on the situation.
The priests' leader, Liadrin, also decided to stay for the victory celebration. This tough woman, who would one day put down her staff, take off her priestly robes, and instead take up a warhammer and don plate armor, was clearly no bashful young lady.
Moreover, their similar personalities had quickly made her and Sylvanas friends during this war. Her friend's recent state of mind also worried her somewhat.
She kept feeling that the way Sylvanas looked at Charlemagne held more than simple guilt. There... were also deeply complicated feelings mixed in.
As the main force finally entered Tranquillien, Charlemagne, who was chatting and laughing with Xiao'en, immediately spotted his younger brother Lor'themar and the two little Windrunners waiting anxiously by the roadside.
As the army's commander, his mentor still had important matters to attend to. After saying goodbye to Lireesa and the others, Charlemagne led Swiftfeather over to the three of them with Sylvanas.
"A-Qiang, Vereesa, Lirath, we've returned in triumph!"
(End of chapter)