If time could rewind ten years, Rhonin wouldn't have believed he would fall in love with an elven ranger;
If time could rewind one year, he wouldn't have believed that his teacher, Krasus, was a red dragon;
If time could rewind one month, he would never have believed he would become friends with an orc;
If time could rewind one week, he would even less believe that there were trolls in the world who didn't eat people.
But he encountered all of these things. The encounters in life are so wonderful: that evening, at dusk, they excitedly saw ships on the isolated island, then desperately discovered that the ships' owners were trolls, and finally, just as they were preparing for a desperate fight, they learned that these trolls were polite and wise, and had no intention of killing them for meat, and even saved them.
This was a group of trolls from the Zandalari tribe. They were knowledgeable, friendly, and showed no hostility whatsoever. Not only to their "own kind," but even to Rhonin, a human, Saurfang, an orc, and Krasus, a dragon in the guise of a high elf, they were very friendly. You should know that historically, the troll empire was defeated by a joint force of humans and high elves, and there was practically a blood feud between the three races. Peaceful coexistence was simply impossible.
After this period of contact, Rhonin finally gained a rough understanding of this Zandalari tribe from their conversations.
These trolls had an ancient history and had never participated in conflicts with other races. They were dedicated to protecting the history and heritage of the trolls. The Zandalari tribe had almost no sworn enemies and naturally held no hatred towards other races.
After being rescued, Krasus, who was seriously injured and unconscious, was awakened and gradually recovered under the treatment of the troll witch doctor Iksar. The reason this fleet appeared on the shipping lane from Lordaeron to Northrend was that the Zandalari tribe maintained contact with the major troll tribes. Every six years, they would organize a fleet to connect with the ice trolls of Zul'Drak in Northrend—in other words, to visit relatives.
They happened to be on their way back when they saw the beacon fire on the island, so the leading troll priest, Morthol, ordered the fleet to come over and rescue them.
Rhonin enjoyed chatting with Morthol, and he was impressed by the other's extensive knowledge. He even heard many secrets about the War of the Ancients from the old priest's mouth. The magnificent history of that era made his heart flutter, and he wanted to learn more, just as he wanted to see the customs and culture of the Runelands.
As the fleet got closer and closer to the continent of Lordaeron, Rhonin could already sense the teleportation array of Dalaran. Soon, they would be able to return. As the time of parting approached, he felt a little reluctant. After all, the libraries of Dalaran had few records of the history of the War of the Ancients. Morthol in front of him was practically living history.
"If you're interested, you can come and visit our tribe, young one!" Morthol saw through his thoughts and patted him on the shoulder with a smile.
Rhonin was thirty years old, and it had been many years since he had heard anyone call him "young one." This feeling was truly peculiar—although in front of this troll, he was indeed a young one.
The Zandalari trolls were eight feet tall, while Rhonin was only six feet tall. His height was only near the other's armpit, not to mention age. Trolls were even longer-lived than high elves. This was also the reason why the Zandalari tribe could inherit the knowledge of the War of the Ancients. For Morthol, the War of the Ancients in the eyes of humans was an era experienced by his ancestors. Those histories were stories his grandfather told him.
Rhonin nodded earnestly and said, "I will! I'll go after this war is over!"
"I will welcome you." Morthol stretched out his finger and tapped him on the forehead, and a sea chart was transmitted into Rhonin's mind. "You can find my people by going to this place."
After Morthol walked away, Rhonin's other two companions came over.
Krasus said, "We are getting close to land. What are your plans?"
Salvar said, "I need to go back to the tribe first."
Rhonin said, "Of course, we have to go back to Dalaran." They had obtained the essence of life, and the next step was to hand it over to the alchemists to create an antidote for the plague. The various obstacles they encountered on the way back made them realize that something might have happened in Lordaeron. These antidotes were the most urgent thing at the moment.
"Let's hope it's not too late," Krasus said.
—
But bad situations always create a chain reaction, making things even worse.
Prince Liam, upon hearing the news of his father's death, was plunged into immense grief, unable to extricate himself. But even more cruel news was yet to come. Lord Herold returned to his side and told him another even more terrible piece of news—he had personally witnessed that the king had not died from natural disasters, but from the betrayal of his own subject!
Ashbury killed him! In his father's unsuspecting state, he plunged a dagger into the king's heart and threw his body off a cliff to destroy the evidence!
Lord Godfrey, upon hearing this news, was also so shocked that he couldn't say a complete sentence, but he saw Liam's gaze transform from grief into naked hatred, and he realized that this was definitely not a good thing for Gilneas.
Godfrey immediately rebuked, "Lord Herold, do you know what you're talking about!"
"It's true! I saw it with my own eyes! I swear!" Herold was grief-stricken and fearful. "I saw it in the woods! Ashbury, he…"
"Shut up!" Lord Godfrey snapped. He turned to Prince Liam, "Liam, you must not let hatred twist your reason. What good would killing the King do for Ashbury? If you are determined that this is the truth, then Gilneas will face internal strife before the threat of the Scourge is resolved! Who wants to see such an ending? Only the Scourge! Those twisted monsters will watch us make fools of ourselves and then wipe us out!"
After Godfrey finished speaking in a deep voice, he glared at Hauer angrily: "Lord, do you know what the consequences will be if you are deceived? Gilneas will lose trust, we will suspect the people around us, and then we will taste even greater failure in doubt and fear! Can you bear such a responsibility?"
"I, I…" Hauer stammered, unable to speak. He had been trapped in the horror of the King's murder, and now, after being intimidated by Godfrey, he finally reacted a little: if he had been subjected to black magic and everything he saw was an illusion, then…
He didn't dare to imagine it, so he hesitated and said, "Perhaps, maybe… I…"
Lord Godfrey interrupted: "Liam, I will go to Stormglen and question Ashbury face to face. If he really committed such a crime, he will face a merciless trial; if he didn't, then we should punish the real murderer! You are the only one who can lead Gilneas now, please be sure to make saving Gilneas your most important goal!"
Liam stared at Lord Godfrey with red eyes, gritting his teeth: "Alright! You go! I only want the truth! If he really did it, I will personally chop off his head!"
"I will bring you the truth," Lord Godfrey replied calmly.
Liam said word by word: "Don't deceive me. Go! Immediately!"
After Godfrey rode away, Liam turned his gaze to Hauer, his eyes almost spitting fire: "Now, tell me what you saw and heard, don't miss a single word!"
Hauer had never seen such a terrifying side of Liam. The immense pressure made him feel a little breathless. He swallowed, but his throat was still very dry. He was beginning to regret his rash behavior. Because regardless of whether the matter was confirmed or not, his words had inevitably caused harm to Prince Liam and to Gilneas.
Godfrey spurred his horse and rushed to Stormglen. He rushed into the fortress and saw Ashbury talking to another elegant and calm nobleman. He recognized at a glance that this was Lord Auberon Pullman, the special envoy from Lordaeron. As an important minister of Gilneas, he was very familiar with this Lordaeron diplomat who was active in various countries of the Alliance, and even had good personal relations with him.
Auberon was surprised to see him come in and asked: "Lord Godfrey, did Prince Liam send you as a negotiator?"
"No, I'm here for something else. I'm sorry, I need to take up a little of Baron Ashbury's time, Envoy Pullman!" Godfrey said hastily, and pulled the person involved out of the reception room, almost pushing him into another room. He rudely drove away everyone present, and then stared at this lord of the Eastern Plaguelands.
"What's wrong?" Ashbury asked with a frown.
"Tell me," Godfrey lowered his voice, staring intently at Ashbury, "Did you kill the King?"
Ashbury was a little surprised. He didn't know where the news had leaked. Since he had been discovered, he didn't intend to deny it, and said frankly: "Yes, it was me."
"Why!" Godfrey grabbed Ashbury's collar and pressed him against the wall, questioning angrily.
"Why?" Ashbury pushed Godfrey away. He straightened his collar and replied calmly, "Because Genn is not worthy to lead us. If it weren't for his Incompetence , how could Gilneas have withdrawn from the Alliance? If it weren't for his selfishness, how could we have suffered the Scourge?"
"Gilneas needs an enlightened monarch, he is not worthy to be my King!" Ashbury sneered at the old King, and his contempt was written all over his face.
Godfrey still couldn't accept his explanation and questioned: "Then why at this time! Do you know what you are doing?"
Ashbury replied calmly: "I know very well what I have done. And I will never regret doing so. Do you want to know why? Because of Genn! He is not welcome by the Alliance, just like Perenolde of Alterac. Our Gilneas cannot lose the support of the Alliance because of him alone! That's why."
Perenolde was the last king of the Kingdom of Alterac. In the last war, in order to preserve his territory, he shamefully betrayed the Alliance and secretly signed an agreement with the Orcs. After the Alliance won, he was tried by the Alliance for this.
Godfrey murmured to himself: "Does the Alliance hate him so much?"
"At least the Alliance did not vent its anger on the innocent people of Gilneas because of this. They are very willing to recognize the enlightened Prince Liam." Ashbury looked at the chief minister of Gilneas, "I would rather die than follow such a king. Killing him can save Gilneas, and I will not regret it at all. I did everything alone, and I will not evade responsibility. Let's go, I will go to Prince Liam and confess my guilt with you!"
Ashbury raised his head and walked out. There was only a relieved smile on his face, and no trace of guilt. After saying everything, he felt that the crime of regicide he had been carrying in his heart was no longer a burden.
"Wait!" It was Godfrey's voice from behind.
"Do I need to wear shackles?" Ashbury mocked, "Don't worry, I won't run away in fear of punishment!"
"No," Godfrey said calmly. "I have investigated, King Genn died from an assassination by the Scourge. That is the conclusion!"