After she left, she began to think of ways to escape her fate. In the year 3305 of the second century, 61 years later, after examining her eyes repeatedly, her mother finally nodded and agreed to marry Okpa, who had lost a part of her body. When Okpa, who had not recovered from a serious injury, brought her a ring woven of grass and flowers, Vernor, who rarely cried, shed tears for a day. It's not to be moved by being with the creatures you like, it's to be happy to escape from fate.

"Thank you for showing up, and from now on I can live for myself." Imprinted a kiss on Okpa's forehead, Vernore said apologetically, "It's a pity I can't come up with a better gift to thank you." Only with this kiss. ”

"Huh! What are you kidding. Okpa, who laughed with a hint of evil, touched the kissed place on his face, closed his eyes, and said, "Don't tell me you can't bear to leave a patient behind." I'm counting on you. ”

As a result, on the battlefield of the final alliance, a gorgeous blue robe reminded her of the fate of forgetting hundreds of years. In the eyes of the woodland officials, they could only see the magnificence of their robes. In Vernor's eyes, the robe was a mockery and warning of fate. If it weren't for the fact that the previous owner of the Skeleton Sabre, which was concerned with Okpa's death, had been driven to Ballard and became an enemy of the Last Alliance, Vernore would have wanted to get out of here now.

"You're saying you want to leave here for a while and join the Noldor Legion to fight on the front lines?" The corners of Devon's mouth twitched, and he thought of the face that the king had taught him not long ago. "Son, I really can't promise you this. Yes, I have the right to give officials a holiday or a transfer, but His Majesty recently reprimanded me for not seeing you for three days. His Majesty has also asked me to remind you that the adviser must be the centre of his work. ”

"Then I'll go and apply to Your Majesty myself." Vernor turned his back and reached out to sign to the wooden box containing the ornate robes. "This thing...... For the time being, let's ask Lord Edmund to enter the warehouse. Rest assured, I would suggest to Your Majesty that it would be more suitable for the future Queen. ”

Speaking of which...... Where has Thranduil, who likes to stay in the king's tent, gone?

The leader of the Anarion army of Nomenor personally invited the Elven King to the final meeting of the Alliance. Before Anarion came to the woodland camp in person, Thranduil had turned down several invitations. Although the status of the creatures who invited him was not low, Hardir and Isild, the Noldor prince who were in charge of the Lorin Elves, and even Essidor, the uncrowned king of the human kingdom.

Thranduil didn't intend to save face for Anarion, but he said, "I can't see a reason why you shouldn't go." If I were you, I'd definitely want to show the other creatures this robe. Wouldn't it be a failure to let it shine only in your royal tent? ”

Having said that, let's just reluctantly go once. The Elven King, dressed in dazzling costumes and riding slowly through the camp on a horned deer, would not have known that he had succeeded in shocking all the creatures of the Last Alliance. Even three thousand years later, the Noldor Elves and Ringu Elves who participated in the Battle of the Last Alliance still gather from time to time to discuss and reminisce about the peerless beauty of King Thrandil.

In the midst of the constant uproar, Thranduil wiped it with silk cloth and knife oil, and finally wiped the exquisite saber that King Aurifel had left for him, and how many orc blood stained it had been smeared. Then he began to count the delicate diamond-shaped cut-outs on the edges of the saber. By eleven o'clock, the surroundings fell silent.

Are you waiting for me to make a statement? Thranduil put the saber on his lap with a slight irritation, not bothering to lift his head. "What's going on again?"

"Uh...... The dwarves just said that they hadn't eaten meat for a long time. The attendant next to him came sideways to remind.

"When will the military council also start discussing cooking? I thought that when the war reached the point of life and death, I had to call those who had taken a back seat. Turning his neck slightly, he raised his voice and said, "I want to eat meat and write to your king." If you can't do it, kill two fat pigs in your mount and roast them, and if you don't have a cook, just go to my Edmund, and don't need to ask me for instructions. ”

"It's not about the meat." The dwarven general smiled in what he thought was the most flattering of all, took two steps closer, and said worriedly, "We mean, can the barbecue feast in the woodland camp be reduced a little bit, or be a little low-key?" Originally, all the creatures were fine eating berries and dry food, but the smell wafting from your camp was really ......."

"What really?" Flipping the saber on his lap with a very exaggerated motion, Thranduil finally lifted his chin and glanced inside the tent. "As a general, you should focus on the battlefield, not on the food of other countries."

When he noticed that all the creatures present were still wearing armor stained with dust and blood, he secretly lowered his head and smiled.

The High King Gilgalad stretched out his hand to stop the dwarven leader who was still trying to say something, and thought for a moment before saying the title "Your Majesty the Honored Woodlands". "Moderate yourself a little. In the past few days, it has indeed affected the morale of the entire alliance. ”

"Okay. I'll order my subjects to keep a low profile. But you also know that the Sylvain elf, who loves wine above all else, will inevitably make some music or sing a few words after drinking to praise the beauty of life. ”

"King of the Woodlands, are you really not going to let the last of the allies share in the happiness of the Sylvan Elves?" After being tortured for several days in his stomach and sense of smell, Ilandur finally couldn't help it, and questioned with the attitude of being slashed at the big deal.

"Share? Why? Thranduil raised an eyebrow, grabbed the saber on his lap and danced a beautiful spoke, and thrust it back into its scabbard. Essidor's eldest son, you should first ask why your father didn't think to go up to the Black Gate at the beginning of the battle? ”

"Ellandur, it's time for you to go to the front." Esidore, who felt a little hot in his cheeks, quickly changed the topic, "I invite you to come today, because the siege of Ballard has made no progress, and I want to ask you what you think." ”

I'm finally down to business. From the moment we knew that the expulsion of the Black Gate would happen, there was already an answer to how the subsequent siege should be carried out in Thrandil. But now the Woodland Legion, which is on the second line of the battle, doesn't care about the progress of the battle at all, how can he easily say the best tactics. Thinking that he would be forcibly dragged to participate in such an unnutritious meeting in the future, Thranduil smiled evilly, and said, half-mocking, half-threatening: "I am an elf that you call a 'cunning soldier'. My tactics can completely eliminate the enemy, but you must first pour out the strength of the country, and then prepare for more than 80% of the casualties of your subjects. ”

This sentence successfully made the remains of the forest elves in front of the black gate appear in front of the eyes of all living beings.

"Let's figure it out." After making eye contact with Gilgalad, King Elendil of Arnor ended the meeting.