Chapter Twelve: Joining

With the looming threat, Aurelia had set up her command post within the Eastern Sanctuary; the Mage Tower now served unmistakably as a command center. Within its walls, the Farstrider units bustled about without rest, while the mages busied themselves constructing defensive bulwarks. Until the trolls’ intentions were made clear, Aurelia had chosen a primarily defensive stance.

The Eastern Sanctuary lay adjacent to the Forest of Life, separated from the troll settlement of Sebwasa by only a stretch of woods. The trolls of Zul’Aman were forest trolls, dwelling in the dense forests year-round, living off hunting and foraging for wild fruits and vegetables. Trolls depended on nature, blending seamlessly into it.

Though the trolls’ way of life was primitive in the extreme, they practiced voodoo and worshipped animal spirits of the wild. Well-versed in jungle warfare, the trolls’ expertise in such combat was precisely why Aurelia confined her defenses to the city itself.

Patrick entered the tower of the Eastern Sanctuary. The guards, noticing the five-ring badge on his chest, offered little resistance.

“General Aurelia?” Patrick greeted in surprise.

“Cabolon the Mage? Oh, no—Cabolon the Arcanist now, is it?” Aurelia recognized him.

Aurelia was astonished; the last time they had exchanged supplies at the Farstrider camp, Patrick had been but a mere fourth-circle mage. In just a few short months, he had grown into a fifth-circle arcanist. The arcane energy that seemed to shimmer in his eyes made Aurelia feel it was almost unbelievable.

“I didn’t expect you to remember me, Lady Aurelia. I’m on my way to the human city of Stratholme, passing by the Eastern Sanctuary to prepare some spellcasting materials and supplies,” Patrick replied with a smile.

“The combat supplies Lord Cabolon escorted to the Farstrider camp last time were a timely boon for the Farstrider outpost. On behalf of Lieutenant Dawn Morningwalker and Lady Salene Dawnglow, I thank you.”

“You flatter me, Lady Aurelia. I was merely transporting supplies at the council’s behest. In times of urgent battle, it’s only right. If you don’t mind, please just call me Patrick.”

“Well then, Patrick, the Eastern Sanctuary is now on full war footing. Recently, the sentries observed trolls spying on our outposts, likely gathering intelligence for their forces. Though the trolls have so far only observed from outside the sentry lines without attacking, no one dares let their guard down,” Aurelia explained.

“These trolls are behaving strangely. If they intended to attack, why do they remain outside, merely spying? And if they do plan to attack, why choose the Sun Sanctuary? Trolls excel at jungle warfare, not at storming fortified positions.

“Furthermore, the Eastern Sanctuary is situated between two mountain passes. The Mage Tower occupies the high ground, and there are no large forests nearby for concealment—only the distant Forest of Life faces the watchtower. Our rear is supported by the kingdom’s Sarathas Highway, making resupply easy. Would the trolls be marching to their deaths?”

Patrick’s analysis mirrored Aurelia’s own suspicions; the trolls’ abnormal behavior must have a hidden purpose.

Aurelia looked at Patrick, not answering directly but asking, “I heard you’re planning to travel to Stratholme? Is your schedule flexible?”

Patrick paused, puzzled. “I was planning to go to Dalaran to study the human arcane arts. There’s no particular time constraint.” Many elves of Quel’Thalas sought opportunities for advancement in Dalaran, so such a reply was reasonable.

“I would like to ask you, Arcanist Patrick, to serve temporarily as a tactical advisor for our forces, to help us face this troll assault together.”

Patrick’s face paled. “I’m afraid I can’t! I have no combat experience, and I’ve certainly never fought trolls. To appoint someone like me, utterly inexperienced, as a tactical advisor—I simply cannot accept.”

Aurelia’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Just from your earlier words, without any military intelligence or experience in large-scale battles, you were able to deduce a logical approach at once. Such sharp insight and tactical analysis make you well-suited for this role. Besides, it’s only temporary and won’t interfere with your plans to go to Dalaran afterward.”

“Uh…” Patrick wiped cold sweat from his brow. “I was just speaking off the cuff. You actually trust that?”

“What you said was rational and well-founded,” chimed in one of Aurelia’s deputies.

With things said thus, Patrick could hardly refuse. In truth, he had hoped to gain experience and arcane knowledge by venturing out, and training with the Farstrider forces would offer greater security as well.

Still, the prospect of serving as a tactical advisor brought a measure of tension and fear. Before crossing into this world, Patrick had never experienced combat; in his previous life of just over twenty years, having grown up as an ordinary person, he’d had no experience of war. Childhood scuffles hardly counted as battle. Now, the role of tactical advisor carried real responsibility for a war’s outcome. Perhaps every man dreams of riding out to command armies, but real war is cruel, and the glory that gleams on a general’s shoulders is weighed down by heavy responsibility.

“They really do have the nerve to make a commoner like me their tactical advisor. I might manage to shout orders during a military drill, but real war? Ha.” Such thoughts wandered through Patrick’s mind.

The next day, Patrick moved from the tavern into the Eastern Sanctuary itself, marking the official start of his tenure.

As before, the sentries reported trolls watching the Eastern Sanctuary from afar, making no attempt to attack—only observing from a distance. Compared to the elves’ vigilance, it seemed more as if the trolls were monitoring the high elves’ movements, something Patrick found quite puzzling.

Otherwise, Aurelia carried on with her routine meetings, debriefing her officers about the day’s military affairs—little had changed. Patrick remained in the Mage Tower, continuing to hone his mental strength and store magic.

Ever since discovering that Allen was a mana reservoir, Patrick had been diligently stockpiling arcane power, preparing for emergencies. Unlike the common practice among elves—drawing directly on the Sunwell’s energy and using it at once—Patrick absorbed only a portion, blending it with his own mana restored through meditation before storing it in his mental world.

This approach served to reduce his dependence on the Sunwell’s energy, lessening the impact of magical addiction on his body. Though eliminating this craving altogether was impossible, he could at least mitigate it over time. Additionally, it allowed him to supply energy to Allen Moon-Sage’s mind, while Allen in turn aided Patrick in strengthening his mental world.

“Report, General,” a courier entered. “Urgent military dispatch from Lieutenant Dawn Morningwalker.”

The magical missive opened, and Lieutenant Dawn Morningwalker from the Farstrider camp reported on the past few days’ military situation. Since the last time they repelled a troll raid, the trolls had withdrawn to the front of Ellendar Falls, maintaining a standoff with their forces instead of retreating to Thorwasa.

“Why are both these troll detachments behaving so abnormally? After a failed assault, why remain at the front line—preparing for another attack, or searching for an opportunity?” Patrick wondered.