I hadn't had a chance to sit down and have a good chat for three years, so how could Thranduil refuse, not to mention that he had found a lot of meniscus gems from Nader, and naturally he didn't want to miss the opportunity to see new jewels. Thrandil, who hurried away www.biquge.info Pen Fun Pavilion, didn't have time to ask about Nader, nor did he think in time that Nader was not an immortal elf. As a result, as soon as he entered Nader's dormitory, he saw the Dwarven King, who was in stark contrast to himself, and was about to die.

As he left the castle kingdom, each of the gold-trimmed mirrors he passed showed the handsome face of the Elven King. But Thranduil saw Nader's lifeless face appear beside him. The immortality that will not be touched by the years and the body that has been dried by the vicissitudes of life made him faintly hear a voice.

The voice says: Eventually all the creatures you love will be gone. And you can only watch them leave you.

If the weather-beaten Thranduil could still suppress this sadness with amazing self-control, then the full sounding of the mourning horn of the lonely mountain declared his defeat.

Not only did he fail completely in dealing with sadness, but the sorrow that succeeded in breeding also induced all the pain of parting hidden in his heart. When the wailing of the lonely mountain stopped, Thranduil no longer had the strength to sit, and could only lie on the bed and clung to his increasingly painful head.

He was carried to a world where he was no longer alive with growing sorrow. As the soul wanders through a dimly lit world, vision begins to blur. The constant sarcasm in his ears made him sensitive to all the sounds in his ears. In the past few days, he heard the wood elves constantly calling "Your Majesty" by his side. Every call made him almost crazy.

I don't know if it's an illusion or a psychological effect, after every call of "Your Majesty", he can always hear other meanings.

Call me Your Majesty?That is to say, I will continue to live forever like this, witnessing countless deaths and boundless thoughts, and continue to carry the burden of a king?

Thranduil struggled to his feet, and yelled at the creatures around him to get out. As he prepared to scold the panicked elves who were guarding the bedside for the twelfth time, in sadness and irritation, Vernorr stood beside him.

In the haze, he saw a face that reflected a silvery-white light approaching him. Unable to see who it was, and unable to move, he covered his pointed ears and prepared to curl up in the thin blanket. When he got closer, he also called out to His Majesty, as if he was still holding something in his hand and handed it over. With a wave of his hand, Thranduil knocked over the glass of water in Vernor's hand.

The fermented wine sprinkled over Vernoer, and a dozen attendants in the hall hurriedly took out dry silk cloth and surrounded him. While helping to wipe it, they led Vernore out to change into a new robe. As soon as he reached the door, Vernoer, who was frowning, stopped.

"Your Majesty has been like this for the past few days, not only does he not eat anything, but he doesn't even want to drink wine?" After receiving an affirmative answer, she reached out to stop the attendant from continuing to wipe herself. "I'll try again, you'll be waiting for me outside. ”

She walked in alone, still wearing a cultivation suit that smelled of alcohol and was stained with dirt and leaf cuttings. It didn't take long for her to come out and summon everyone.

"Your Majesty is hungry. Her eyebrows were crooked: "Let the best cook make the meat soup." ”

Vernor's entry was only a word, and Thranduil was pulled out of the predicament. What she said was, "Thrandil, can you shoot a jackdaw for me?"

As an elf who was not proficient in bows and arrows, Vernor's marksmanship was taught by Thrandier. However, even having a skilled tutor does not mean that the student's skills will be of the same level. For example, Vernor, who can only hit the target three times out of ten, can only admit his powerlessness in this regard, no matter how frustrated he is.

What you can't do on your own, you can leave it to the creatures who are good at it. Most of the time, she has locked onto an air target and can only turn to others. And the assistant with the fastest response speed and superb archery skills is naturally the elf king closest to her. Every time she turned to the archers behind her for help, the Elven King would prevent any creature from responding, and hooked his fingers for the bow and arrows.

"I say that I am the best archer in the woodland, and there will be no objection in the whole woodland. Not choosing the best helper, and seeking the near and far, is not what a smart creature should do. ”

While waiting for the soldiers to retrieve their prey, Thranduil unceremoniously boasted about himself and expressed intense disdain for Vernor's appeal to others. His words, of course, drew a smile from Vernoer.

"The king claims to be the best archer, and who in the whole woodland would dare to compete with you for that title?" After a whisper, Vernor looked in the direction of the soldier's departure, expecting the arrival of his prey, only to be lured back by Thrandier's disapproving snort.

"He is the best archer, and it doesn't matter if he is a king or not. Like a child under suspicion, Thranduil rolled his eyes and said, "I don't believe I'll wait for the prey to be brought back and see if my arrow has just passed through the throat." ”

Whether the Elven King was the best archer in the forest, Vernor wasn't sure, but the result of an arrow through her throat did make her feel like she was underestimating Thrandil's archery skills. After that, when Furnorr saw an unfamiliar bird, he would choose to turn to the Elven King for help. When a soldier or squire is far away, he doesn't even mind giving the Elven King a small sense of accomplishment in this regard. She would tilt her head, point to the birds flying in the sky expectantly, and say, "Thranduil, can you shoot that bird down for me?"

So, hearing this sentence again in sadness, Thranduil was exactly the same as the countless reactions that had happened to him. Although he did not have the strength to get up, an agitated spirit opened his eyes. Unconscious reply "It's a pleasure." Bring a bow and arrows. After that, the sarcasm in his ears disappeared, and he saw clearly who the creature was in front of him.

"Vernor, is it really you?" Examining the smiling creature beside the bed three times, Thranduil stretched out his hands with difficulty. "Tell me it's not a dream. ”

The past of fifteen years of never meeting each other softened Vernor's heart, not to mention that the elf king at this time was completely stunned by the power of the years.

"Certainly not a dream. She stepped forward to avoid his open embrace, but took his hand and said with great grief, "You better find a way for me to learn to shoot my prey." In the past ten years, I have not gotten a single flying prey. ”