Isilde, who didn't know how lucky he was, was silent for a moment, and actually smiled at the black mask woven with gold thread in front of him. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

"It really looks like you say. Even now, the feeling of exhilaration, has not diminished in the slightest. Finding that the lower end of her cloak had been stained red with blood, Isild wanted to try to summon a healing spell, but she couldn't do it, so she could only explain apologetically: "I'm sorry. My father taught me how to use the Ring of the Wind, but it requires the wearer to be able to handle it completely. I can't ...... right now."

"You should use all of the Wind Ring's potential against Sauron, not on an inconsequential creature like me. Seeing that Isild still had a trace of unbearability, Vernorr gritted his teeth and raised his leg and stomped on the ground. "As long as you get close to the Wind Ring, the injury will always heal quickly. You see, I feel like it's healing fast right now. ”

The phrase "inconsequential creatures" made Isild frown. What he wanted to say was suppressed after the sound of the horn that meant to give him a farewell. In the end, all the camps of the alliance invariably blew the big horn that had never been used before, and the voice representing mourning slowly floated out of each camp and floated over the bloody battlefield.

Not long after the woodland's biggest horn sounded, it was never sounded again. The elven king could not hide his excitement, rushed straight to the horn stand, and pushed away the soldiers who were playing the horn.

In his opinion, all the camps are blowing the horn anyway, and the woodland is not one worse. Of course, this is just an excuse. The most important reason was that his father, King Aurifel, did not enjoy this treatment when he left. When Anarion died, he didn't have that much influence. This kind of exclusive ritual of mourning the elven supreme emperor only made Thrandeil feel harsh.

Watching the officials under the horn cast a resentful look at him, Thranduil found a good excuse.

"Is the woodland the same as the other camps?Do you want the children to sleep after blowing the horn all night?Do the elves who are giving birth to the children still want to rest?What about the disabled soldiers?," he said with a majestic expression that almost jumped off the high horn platform, suppressing the joy in his heart, and putting on a majestic expression, "I don't care what the High King is gone. All I know is that I want to make life comfortable for all the creatures in the woodlands. ”

All the officials present were moved by the Elven King's words, and gave their king an extremely solemn thank you salute, and scattered one after another. No one noticed that the elf king behind him covered his mouth and snorted softly a few times before walking back to the king's tent with graceful steps.

Thranduil's mind was a little confused at this time. He knew that he had to get back to the king's tent quickly, otherwise it would be difficult to contain his excitement. Entering the heavy tent, he ordered all the soldiers stationed outside the king's tent to retreat, and then rushed to the bookcase to open the fine official box. Carefully holding the letter in front of him, which had been gritted by Silver Fangs, Thranduil let out two laughs.

Wouldn't it be cruel to let Devon go to the Noldor barracks and find a way to cancel this official letter, which can already be called waste paper?

Thranduil paced irritably in the tent with the letter, thinking about the longest time she could endure. Stuck in the entanglement of time and the joy of the upcoming reunion, the Elf King didn't remember that today was the "five days later" mentioned by Vernor, and he didn't think about why Vernor didn't show up for the time being. When he set the cancellation of the official letter three days after the time required for the High King's farewell ceremony and the coronation process of the Noldor royal family.

The mourning ceremony on the battlefield will not be too grand, and the farewell ceremony of the old king will end exactly after 3 days, and the new king will officially succeed to the throne at the coronation ceremony the next day. The interval between the two ceremonies is the period when the official letter is canceled.

Thinking that in three days Fronor would be able to return to the woodland forever, Thranduil proudly poured himself the best wine to reward himself, and was so happy that he smiled gently at Elrond, who had broken into the king's tent.

"Hey, you're just in time!" the Elven King smiled as he raised his glass, not taking Elrond's frowning brow seriously. "Dear wise man, I have heard that you are also very talented in music, and I have an ancient harp here, would you not mind showing off your great skill in music?"

As he spoke, he actually got up from his chair, put down his wine glass, and walked to the pile of items where the equipment was placed to turn over the piano. While flipping, he also said, "Let's talk about the joy of reunion for the first time." It's the one that is often played at elven dinners, what's the name......"

Elrond looked at the slender and straight back not far away, and shook his head heavily.

Before he came, Elrond, who was a wise man, imagined that the Elven King might do something completely incompatible with the current situation, but he did not imagine that the Elven King would go to such an extreme degree. Seeing Isild pull the woodland advisor into the tent on the battlefield, Elrond decides to come and meet Thrandil, reminding him to look more into the woodland advisor's eyes. But this worry disappeared without a trace with the "happy song" spoken by the elf king.

I really took the wrong medicine to intend to tell you her eyes in secret because of sympathy and intolerance to risk being blamed by your advisor.

Elrond let out a long sigh and departed angrily to the sound of the mourning horn. When his footsteps could no longer be heard, Thranduil, who pretended to be looking for a violin, stopped what he was doing. Patting the non-existent dust off his robe, he let out a cold snort and returned to his seat to pick up his glass.

Thranduil did not forget a few days ago who interrupted his long-awaited "good thing". I haven't forgotten the whole last alliance, who else has seen Vernor's true face except myself. In the eyes of the Elf King, the half-elf with the identity of the adopted son of the Supreme King has nothing to say about cuteness at all. Even if his medical skills had helped him, even if the death of the High King was the greatest loss to the last alliance, he didn't want to see any stinky faces at this time.

The Elven King, who had experienced the sudden departure of King Orifer, was more indifferent than ordinary creatures when dealing with the death of the High King, and even had a hint of joy.

Three days later, Dewen, who had returned from the Noldor barracks, said to the Elven King with a bitter face: "The Linton officials are not busy dealing with the funeral of the High King, but are busy persuading the prince to be crowned. In this case, I'm really embarrassed to stop the relevant officials from talking about this. Your Majesty, look at ......"