"Psychic Scream!"
Plunging into the midst of a group of Blood Trolls, Andreas opened his mouth and let out a piercing howl. The nearby Trolls immediately clutched their heads in terror, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
Flowing like water, Andreas swung the Blade of the Empire and the light-blade extending from the top of the Scepter of G'Hanir, effortlessly harvesting the lives of the incapacitated Blood Trolls.
On the periphery, the Troll casters hopped about in rage. They performed a series of comical, ritualistic dances to aid their spellcasting while pointing their crude staves at Andreas, who was cutting a swath through their ranks.
Whiz! Whiz!
Arrows, moving like blurred afterimages, struck the vital points of these casters one after another. Perched on the branch of a massive tree, Shandris mercilessly picked off any ranged Troll who dared to aim at Andreas.
This medium-sized Blood Troll village happened to be the growth site of the Briarthorn needed to treat Celeste. After a failed attempt to negotiate with the Trolls, Andreas decided to use another method to "persuade" them.
After reaping the head of the Troll chieftain with a Shadow Scythe spell, Andreas let out a soft sigh of relief.
"What a nuisance. I told them I just wanted to borrow some herbs, yet they forced me to go on a killing spree."
Confirming there were no living Trolls left, Shandris jumped down from the tree and rolled her eyes at Andreas.
"Enough talk. Let's gather the Peacebloom and head back. The others should have collected enough materials by now. This swamp, filled with blood sacrifice altars everywhere, is truly disgusting."
Just as Shandris said, throughout their journey, the two had passed many Blood Troll settlements. These fanatics, who worshipped G'huun, treated blood sacrifice as a daily activity; the thick scent of blood hung heavy throughout the jungle.
Compared to the Zandalari, who had developed a powerful civilization under the collective guidance of multiple Loas, these Nazmani descendants who worshipped G'huun had almost completely regressed into primitives.
Zul'Nazman, the first Troll city, had been abandoned, and its once-glorious civilization and architecture had turned into the ruins of Nazmir over the long ages.
While Andreas was very interested in Troll history, now was not the appropriate time to explore it leisurely.
Using a small shovel to carefully dig up the Briarthorn, the two silently left the corpse-strewn camp.
The dense jungle was not conducive to flying, so Andreas transformed into a sturdy stag and carried Shandris, galloping through the forest.
"Wait!"
When they could finally see the edge of their temporary camp, Shandris, who had been looking ahead from her elevated position, suddenly called for a stop.
Drawing her bowstring to full tension and staring alertly at the jungle ahead, Shandris warned coldly, "Come out. I see you."
"Heh heh... quite impressive dynamic vision."
An avatar of a Devilsaur, about two meters tall, stepped out from behind the trees. Like Pa'ku, he wore a significant amount of golden armor, clearly indicating his high status among the Loas worshipped by Zandalar.
Andreas shifted back to his original form and stared intently at the Devilsaur, which seemed to bear no ill will. "Rezan, Loa of Kings?"
"Oh?"
Rezan's projection was somewhat surprised. "Mortal, you know me?"
Andreas shook his head. "I don't know you personally; I have only read about you in ancient texts passed down within the Night Elf race."
"Among the primitive spirits worshipped by Zandalar, there is one Loa of the highest prestige: Rezan the Devilsaur. He once fought directly against Queen Azshara without being defeated, possessing immense combat strength."
"Azshara, is it..."
Recalling that matchlessly powerful mortal queen, a look of solemnity flashed in Rezan's eyes.
"I must admit, she is the strongest mortal I have ever seen. Even I could only barely hold my own against her. That level of power has already far exceeded the boundaries of mortality."
Shaking his head, Rezan pulled back his thoughts. "Let us not dwell on matters of the distant past."
"Night Elf, I have seen you before."
Rezan's eyes fixed on Shandris. "You once entered the mountains of Zuldazar, back during the period over 2,000 years ago when the Night Elves were fighting the demons."
Shandris froze for a moment, then realized, "I did indeed pass through Zuldazar. So, the ones who secretly helped us against the Dreadlords back then were truly..."
Rezan nodded with a smile. "Indeed, it was the Zandalari Trolls."
"Although the Night Elves and Trolls have had their wars, at the very least, when facing an enemy that threatens this world, our positions are aligned."
Rezan gave the two a meaningful look. "Remember my words. I hope we will have another chance to meet and cooperate in the future."
Having said this, the projection dissolved into particles of light and dispersed. Andreas and Shandris glanced at each other, both falling into deep thought.
"Cooperate?" Andreas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Is it about G'huun?"
The Zandalari were the most prestigious branch among all Trolls, and with the help of the Loas, they had indeed developed a brilliant civilization.
If not for the Night Elves rising unexpectedly due to the Well of Eternity, the entire world would likely still be under Troll rule today.
The Zandalari Trolls were very confident in their own strength. To say there was something they weren't sure they could handle, and which posed a threat to the world... the only thing would be G'huun, the god-made Old God who had yet to fully break free from his seal.
"Interesting."
Andreas smiled with a hint of understanding. "He specifically mentioned the brief meeting from before and pointed out the fact that the Night Elves had received help from Zandalar. It seems this Loa of Kings came here to leave us a gesture of goodwill."
Shandris asked in confusion, "Why would he do that? Is he not confident enough in himself and Zandalar?"
"Who knows." Andreas looked at the deep swamp jungle and chuckled. "Though they are secondary animal deities, a Loa is still a type of god after all. Perhaps Rezan instinctively felt something."
Andreas vaguely remembered that the ultimate fate of this Loa of Kings seemed quite tragic. The one who replaced him as the new Loa of Kings for the Zandalari was a strange humanoid deity, something like 'Bonsam...'—Andreas had long since forgotten the specific name.
...
Upon returning to the camp, Andreas and Shandris regrouped with the rest of the crew. The part-time alchemist threw the collected herbs into the large cauldron usually used for cooking meals.
Andreas and Shandris entered the tent together to visit Celeste.
Shandris reached out and gently touched Celeste's forehead.
"It's still very hot."
Andreas also knelt by Celeste's bed. Celeste, whose consciousness was somewhat blurred, was still mumbling "Father" and "Brother" under her breath.
"Sigh~"
Andreas sighed. "It seems this illness isn't entirely due to a cold. The pent-up sorrow in this girl's heart is also one of the triggers for her sickness."
To avoid waking Celeste, Shandris only spoke after they had left the tent. "Andreas, can Dath'Remar and the others survive this crisis?"
"It shouldn't be a big problem, though some losses are inevitable. This was also Dath'Remar's own intention."
Andreas looked back at the tent and said, "He hopes his people won't indulge in pleasure just because they've obtained the Sunwell. The Forest Trolls are a powerful external pressure he deliberately sought out."