"By verbal command of His Majesty Anasterian, the Sun King, the ranger forces shall set out this day under the Ranger-General's command to escort the prisoners to Silvermoon City and receive their rewards!"
The Dragonhawk Rider wasted no time and read out Anasterian's verbal decree directly.
"Ranger-General Lireesa Windrunner acknowledges the order. Please inform His Majesty that we will depart as soon as our preparations are complete."
"Very well. General Windrunner, please proceed at your discretion. I must report back, so I won't disturb you further."
After respectfully saluting Lireesa, the Dragonhawk Rider, clad in magnificent light armor, mounted his imposing Dragonhawk again and rose into the sky, flying toward Silvermoon City.
After watching the Dragonhawk Rider leave, Lireesa turned and clapped her hands to draw everyone's attention.
"All right! You all heard him. Go pack your things, and put on your military dress uniforms. Don't disgrace your families!"
"Yes!"
This time, everyone, including Skarren, the acting commander of the Farstriders, would travel to Silvermoon City to receive the Sun King's commendations and rewards. Only a small number of Farstriders would remain to guard Farstriders Camp.
Skarren planned to use this time to familiarize Charlemagne with some of the Farstriders' basic affairs, then formally retire once Alleria returned and joined the Farstriders.
He had therefore long since decided what he wanted as his reward and had conveyed it to the Sun King through Alleria. He intended to obtain an estate near Tranquillien where he could spend his remaining years in peace. Anasterian had readily agreed to a request that involved no power.
Incidentally, Yawen's request was exactly the same as Skarren's. The old ranger was also ready to retire, and judging by the second young lady's recent performance, that day did not seem far off.
Since returning, Sylvanas had turned her shame into determination, gradually correcting her impatience and becoming steadier and more capable in her work. This greatly pleased Yawen and the other veteran rangers.
The Sun King had his own considerations in choosing to have the ranger forces escort the prisoners along the main road to Silvermoon City rather than arrive by teleportation.
The High Elves had not won a major victory against the Amani Trolls in many years. They had even suffered heavy losses in the war ten years earlier.
Wasn't having the ranger forces escort the prisoners north also a way of showing off? Letting the people along the route see the captured Troll commander for themselves would help reassure them and display his achievements.
Ordinary rangers naturally knew nothing of these political considerations. At the moment, they were running home in high spirits, rummaging through chests and cupboards for the military dress uniforms they had not worn in years.
The Kingdom of Quel'Thalas's military dress uniforms were quite interesting. Aside from a rough framework prescribed for their basic design, other decorative elements, such as colors and patterns, were left for each family to decide.
Charlemagne, who had never heard of military dress uniforms, looked utterly bewildered at Lireesa's order. Fortunately, Lor'themar, who was also happy for his elder brother, grabbed him and pulled him home.
"Brother! The military dress uniform Father had made for you can finally be put to use!"
After they got home, Lor'themar began searching the basement for his brother's uniform. Charlemagne, who had no idea what was going on, could only go outside to feed Swiftfeather while waiting for Lor'themar to find this supposed military dress uniform.
Looking at the sturdy white riding bird before him, Charlemagne frowned and stepped back twice, looking Swiftfeather up and down.
"Swiftfeather, haven't you grown a little taller again?"
"Chirp!"
Swiftfeather proudly raised his head and let out a clear, ringing cry, flapping his tiny wings and strutting in circles around Charlemagne, seemingly wanting his master to take a closer look at him.
Amused, Charlemagne patted Swiftfeather's long neck and smoothed his soft feathers.
"All right! I know you're beautiful. Make sure you do me proud on this trip to the royal capital!"
"Chirp!"
Ever since reincarnating into Azeroth, Charlemagne had never been to Silvermoon City.
Unlike in later years, this main city of the High Elves had not yet been destroyed once. It stood majestically at the northernmost end of Eversong Woods. Farther north lay Sunstrider Isle and the Isle of Quel'Danas, separate from the mainland.
The capital, which served as the High Elves' political, cultural, and economic center, was renowned throughout the Eastern Kingdoms. Were it not for the High Elves' isolationist policy, visitors of various races alone would probably have packed Silvermoon City to bursting every year.
Having long heard of its reputation, Charlemagne naturally had high expectations for this trip to Silvermoon City. He wondered how the High Elves' main city in the real Azeroth differed from its counterpart in the game.
While Charlemagne idly played with Swiftfeather, Lor'themar finally found the set of "military dress clothes" in the underground armory.
"Uh... A-Qiang, are you sure this counts as 'formal attire'?"
Charlemagne stared at the magnificent suit of armor before him, his brow twitching. What the hell did this have to do with formal attire...?
Lor'themar frowned in displeasure and retorted, "I told you not to call me A-Qiang, Brother Daqiang! What else would this be if not a military dress uniform? Father went all the way to Silvermoon City to have it specially made on the day you came of age. It cost quite a lot, too."
"Don't call me Daqiang! Or I'll shoot an Arcane Shot up your nostril!"
Hearing himself called Daqiang reminded Charlemagne of Xiaoqiang... He simply could not accept that.
"If you stop calling me A-Qiang, I'll stop calling you Daqiang. Anyway, hurry up and try it on. I've maintained it regularly, but who knows whether it'll actually fit."
For some reason, Lor'themar, who was usually rather mild-mannered, had a particular dislike for the name A-Qiang. Every time Charlemagne used that nickname, he grew quite displeased and would even retaliate.
"Fine, fine, I won't call you that. This is the first I've heard of military dress uniforms being made into armor... Speaking of which, how do I put this thing on?"
Having never worn armor before, Charlemagne was at a complete loss with the set of "formal attire" in his hands and looked to Lor'themar for help.
When moving through the forest, he usually wore light leather armor like the other rangers to avoid restricting his movements. Metal armor like this... really was a first for him.
"Sigh..."
Seeing his brother's expression, A-Qiang sighed helplessly and could only step forward, undo the armor, and put it on Charlemagne piece by piece.
The armor was deep red overall, with the Theron family's crest emblazoned on its chest-a reversed purplish-red leaf against the backdrop of a bow.
Charlemagne had seen leaves like this countless times. They came from a tree that grew abundantly throughout Eversong Woods.
This variety, called the spirit maple by the High Elves, came in two colors, purplish-red and golden yellow. Both colors conveyed the nobility and elegance the High Elves pursued.
A purplish-red spirit maple leaf, together with a longbow representing the rangers and some ornate patterns around the edges, formed the Theron family's coat of arms.
Once he had it on, Charlemagne found the whole suit of armor surprisingly light. The metal pieces all seemed hollow-typical decorative armor...
"There! It looks very good. Brother, wear this formal attire representing the Theron family when you meet His Majesty the Sun King!"
After circling his brother twice, Lor'themar nodded in satisfaction.
Charlemagne, meanwhile, examined the "formal attire" on his body with some discomfort.
What a flashy suit of armor. Just what you'd expect from pleasure-loving High Elves, I suppose. Even their rangers' ceremonial armor is this elaborate...
(End of chapter)