"No matter what you say in Arthas, I support you. Pen ~ Fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info"

Varian Ureon is unreservedly professed of his trust in Arthas.

"Little Alsace, you're the boss, you have the final say."

Muradin Copperbeard said in a somewhat vulgar tone, but Arthas knew that his dwarven friend would not support him worse than anyone else in the camp.

At this moment, a royal guard of Lordaeron outside the camp in Alsace suddenly walked into the camp.

Disturbing the ongoing military meeting, it was clear that the Lordaeron royal guard also had a hesitant look in his demeanor.

"What happened?"

Paul asked in place of Arthas.

"Yes, Lord Paul, the scouts have found a human outside the camp who claims to be the messenger of His Majesty King Terenus, but refuses to show any evidence, saying only that he wants to see His Royal Highness Prince Arthas."

The Lordaeron royal guard hurriedly replied.

"Is there such a thing?"

Paul was also stunned for a moment - the messenger of His Majesty King Terenus, but there was no evidence? How is this possible?

But Paul did not dare to make a decision on his own, and the matter was beyond his authority.

"Where is the messenger now?"

Arthas asked after a moment's thought.

"Outside the tent, he was guarded by the brethren."

The Lordaeron royal guard hurriedly replied.

"Bring him in."

Arthas commanded—whether this human being had been sent by his father or not, just bring him in and ask a few words for himself; What's more, even if he is a fake messenger, at this moment, the humans who appear in the forests of the Ghost Lands have also made Arthas very interested in his origins.

Soon, a young man in a pale blue robe walked into Arthas's tent, held between two Lordaeron royal guards.

Arthas looked at the young man, who looked to be in his twenties and had a mediocre appearance, and Arthas recalled it carefully, feeling that he had not seen this man in his father's side.

"Huh?"

Frost Sorrow let out an exclamation of surprise when she saw the young man again, and she quickly straightened up from her snuggled position in Arthas, staring at the young man for a long time.

"The host ......"

Frostmourn's eyes rolled into Arthas's ear, and she whispered a few words.

"Huh? Is there such a thing? ”

Arthas's face turned from flat at first to shocked, and after Frost Sorrow snuggled up to his arms again, Arthas's gaze was already very different when he looked at the human youth.

Frostmourn surprised Arthas, and in return, Arthas gently touched the top of Frostsorrow's head, causing the little magic sword to make a familiar purring and coquettish sound.

"Ahem."

Uther coughed dryly twice, reminding his disciple that there was still a whole camp of people waiting for him to talk, not flirting with his fiancée.

"I think you already know who I am."

Arthas hadn't yet spoken, but the human youth had spoken first.

"What?"

Prince Danas replied in amazement - what is this guy talking about without knowing it?

"You're right, but it really amazes me, both your courage and your ...... This spell. ”

Arthas wasn't too surprised by the human youth's words, and replied with a smile.

"I think I'm at least qualified to sit here and talk, facing guests from afar, there should be this in human etiquette, right?"

Ignoring the Lordaeron royal guards around him, the human youth walked straight to the table where Arthas and the others were, and sat down at the end of the table.

"If you insist, Mr. Troll. But before that, can you tell me your name? ”

Arthas acquiesced in the human youth's behavior, but his words surprised everyone around him.

"Giant ...... Trolls? ”

Varian Ureon looked at Arthas in astonishment, then at the human youth, wondering if he was too old to be dazzled.

"I'm sorry, this disguise was just to get into your camp without a hitch, and now, I think I can remove it."

As he spoke, the human youth's face began to blur; When the fog dissipated, the face of a troll appeared in front of everyone.

"What? Come on, take this guy down for me! ”

Paul was astonished - he had allowed a troll to come so close to His Royal Highness the Prince of Arthas?

Although it was not Paul's fault, he angrily shouted at his men to arrest the unknown troll as soon as possible.

The royal guards of Lordaeron were horrified - not afraid of the trolls, but just as much as Paul was, remorseful at their own failures.

Prince Danas, Uther, and Alexandros Mograini drew their swords from their waists, intending to shatter the corpse of the troll who dared to appear in the coalition camp.

"Wait, let's hear what he has to say."

Arthas waved his hand, stopping the crowd.

"But Alsace ......"

Prince Danas stopped what he was doing, but looked at the troll with heart.

"It's just a troll, we have so many people here, don't worry."

Arthas shook his head, staring at the troll in front of him who was so calm that he didn't seem to worry about being killed by the human soldiers.

Compared to the forest trolls that Arthas had seen in Riptide Castle, the troll in front of him was even bigger.

However, his large body did not make him look savage or rude, and the pale blue robes on his body, although they still exposed too many parts of his body compared to human clothing, were much better than the forest trolls who were often naked/naked.

What's more, the troll's complexion in front of him was not the turquoise of the forest troll, but a bluish black with a hint of blue.

Looking at the troll's graceful demeanor and relaxed expression, Arthas could not see the slightest hint of a troll's fury in him, and if you ignore the natural mane and fangs, this troll seems to be more knowledgeable than the wisest sage of mankind.

"Caldara, young human prince, my name is Caldara, and I am from the Zandalar clan. I have crossed the ocean to come here in the hope of mediating the war between humanity and my fellow citizens. ”

Nodding slightly, the tall troll slowly spoke his name; He used the most authentic lingua franca, and even Arthas, who came from the royal family of Lordaeron, could not find fault with his phrasing and diction.