2 days of quiet in the valley of the hearth. The rumors of the orc threat that everyone speculated have now subsided considerably. Tirio felt much more relaxed, contemplating as if he could cover up the whole thing permanently. As long as Itreg stays away from everyone, Tirio can no longer think about taking action and betraying his oath to the old orcs. He was surprised to find that Basshras had been quiet about the matter for the past few days. Despite the young paladin's silence, Tirio sensed that as long as Bathrath suspected the presence of orcs in Hearthvale, he wouldn't rest.

After a moment of leisure that he hadn't expected, Tirio gradually reverted back to his role as a local administrator, with a bit of leisure. Some are single, some are tiresome, some bureaucratic office work is conducive to him not thinking about Ittrig for a while, and their destined encounter. He spent all the private time he could find with Tyran and Carandra. Surprisingly, the wife seemed to have forgotten their quarrel the night before. She was as affectionate as she always was, and didn't start talking about orcs again. Tirio is thankful for the peace. Just over the past week, he's been excited and dangerous.

The sun hung in the middle of the crystal blue sky, and Tirio sat on a large balcony, looking down at the castle's stables and cavalry corrals. Built at the back of the castle courtyard, this balcony offers an amazing view of the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Alterac Mountains in the distance. As he watched, at the pen far below him, Carandra led a short, white pony in a circle. On horseback sat Tyran, who was clearly enjoying the happy times of his life. The child laughed and happily threw his little arm back and forth, asking his mother to go faster, faster. Carandra smiles at her son, constantly reminding him to grab the pony's mane with both hands.

Tirio watched them both intently. They are the center of his world and the source of all his joy. He could not abandon them. He spent a long time pondering what Carandra had said to him when they were arguing. Maybe his honor was ultimately a selfish thing, he mused. But even so, it was part of his own whole whole. This is his characteristic, as clear as his own face. As a paladin, he can't, and won't, give it away. A qiē all depend on it. He just hopes it won't be between him and his beloved again.

Arton's heavy boots clanged loudly on the stone floor of the balcony. The captain of the guard strode up behind Tirio and bowed briefly. Tirio noticed that Arton was out of breath. Obviously, the loyal captain came to him with his life. Tirio stood up and saluted the man younger than him. He saw that Alton's face was elongated and pale.

"What's wrong, Arton, why are you so flustered?"

The captain did his best to control his breathing. "I'm looking for you everywhere, sir," Arton said in a rough tone. "We have guests at the gate. Tirio tensed. For a brief moment, he feared the worst. Of course, it's not uncommon for visitors to visit the castle. But the only thing Tirio could have imagined that could make Arton so virtuous was an orc army climbing the walls.

"What visitor? What's wrong?" The paladin asked nervously.

Arton shook his head, gasping for air. "An envoy from Stratholme, sir. The lord commander Dasohan arrived with a whole regiment of guards. He wants to talk to you right away. ”

Tirio's jaw dropped. Lord Dasohan, come here? He wanted to figure it out. The lord commander was not only his immediate superior, but also one of his oldest friends. Da Sohan was a great leader and a warrior who valued honor. During the war, both he and Tirio saved each other's lives. Due to their respective increasing responsibilities, the two friends haven't seen each other in years. Why would the High Lord venture out of the capital of the province to come with such a large escort without notice? Dasohan knew about the orcs. This was the only explanation for his visit, Tirio concluded. He knew that it must have been Basshras who had informed the lord commander of his recent meeting with Itreig. Tirio took a deep breath and steadied. He patted Alton on the shoulder comfortingly, glanced at his wife and son below, and strode out in the direction of the main gate.

The lord commander Saida Da Sohan has an impressive image. He was almost six meters tall and half a meter tall when he stood, and his gorgeous, glittering armor made him even more dazzling. A gold-trimmed medium gray-blue cloak draped over his broad shoulders and fluttered behind him like an emperor. The way he looks in his old age is the result of years of fighting and conflict. His evenly cut hair and neatly trimmed beard had turned gray, but his piercing blue gaze shone with vigor and strength, believing his past.

As soon as he saw Tirio coming, Da Sohan's grim expression unfolded, and he cracked his mouth and smiled. He strode forward and hugged his friend tightly. Tirio felt the air run out of his lungs. The mighty Da Sohan almost lifted him off the ground. Dasohan gave a deep, bust grin.

"Tirio, my friend, I'm glad to see you. How long, four years?" Dassaulthan asked. He let go of Tirio, and the paladin formally stood straight.

"About four years, sir," Tirio replied.

Dassaulthan grinned and patted him on the back, almost staggering Tirio. "Let's not come up and say 'my lord' or stuff like that! Few people alive today remember what I was like when I was a little imp with an old snotty nose, and you're one of them. We're on this flat ground, you and me," Dasohan said humorously. Tirio forced himself to relax and smiled back.

"Then you can be casual, Saida. He patted the tall man's shoulder armor with his hand. "I'm glad to meet you too," he said enthusiastically. Although Da Sohan's demeanor was as familiar and boisterous as he had been, there was a hint of concern in his piercing gaze. Tirio's gaze passed over his friend to see rows of armored infantry standing on the plain beyond the castle walls. His heart sank. As happy as he was to see his friend, Tirio understood that the presence of so many soldiers meant that there was trouble.

"Sue me, Saida, why don't you say a word to me when you travel, and if I know you're back, I'll prepare you a big meal," said Tirio, trying to keep his voice frank and friendly.

Da Sohan nodded, spreading his hands. "I apologize for just breaking in, Tirio, but we have urgent business to attend to. I feel like I have to come and see you as much as I can. But we'll get down to business later. You need time to call your advisors for a meeting," he said, in a sullen tone.

"Trouble, Saida, we're going to war?" Tirio asked, not knowing what else to say. Da Sohan stared at him with his razor-sharp gaze, carefully watching his expression.

"That's what I want to figure out here, Tirio," he concluded. He didn't know anything about Itreig, he reasoned. "Now, I'd love to see your lovely bride and your son," Da Sohan said enthusiastically. "I'm sorry I didn't visit the lad when he was born. You know what's going on. ”

Tirio nodded. "He's a good boy, a future paladin," he said with confidence. He felt beads of sweat oozing from his eyebrows. He tried his best to keep himself calm and move naturally. He felt as if Da Sohan had seen through him. When Dassohan burst into a burst of laughter, he almost jumped.

"I'm a little skeptical about that. I doubt that the Frentin Front will always be there to defend Lord Lordaeron and his people," D'Althohan said, smiling.

Tirio smiled back, nodded, and said, "I definitely hope so." (To be continued.) )