…………

In the swamps outside Theramore, a team of guards in charge of patrolling were performing night missions. They each carried lighted oil lamps so that they would not step into the mud in the dark.

The leader was named Nass. He used to be a guard, but now he is a lieutenant. He usually likes to stay at the post, and can not only watch over his guards, but also appreciate the daughter of a merchant. But today he was different. He took the few people under his jurisdiction out of Theramo City to check whether the roadblocks of Theramo Pass were complete.

Among those who were walking with him was a guard named Byron. He noticed the problem and reminded him: "Lt. Nas, we are about to go out of the jurisdiction of Theramore."

"Don't talk, soldier." Nass glanced at Byron in the lower left. Lieutenant sat on the maroon horse, and other soldiers could only walk. "We are patrolling the defenses outside Theramore. This task is crucial, do you understand?"

His serious look made the soldiers who were traveling with him look at each other. Anyone who has been with him knows that he is a person who doesn’t like to cause trouble and his daily work can be pushed as long as he can. Why today...

"Yes, sir." Byron replied, but he asked again without going far: "Sir, where are we going to patrol?"

"When you get off the watchtower, you turn back." Nass replied, but his horse immediately neighed uneasyly.

"Enemy attack?" Byron shouted. He had drawn out his weapons. Theramo's soldiers are very concerned about training.

"No!" Nass comforted the horse and said in a calm voice. He looked ahead and had discovered what made the chestnut horse suddenly stop. "Look."

The others' eyes looked in the direction of his fingers. Byron ran over first, illuminated with an oil lamp, and saw a strong man lying on the ground and unconscious.

"It's a man, lieutenant," shouted Byron, and then squatted down to test the man's breath, "I'm still alive!"

Nas came on a horse and observed carefully that the man had black hair and a scar on his face that had not healed. His body was not a sweater made of linen or silk, but an animal skin.

"Take him back quickly." Nas dismounted, and then watched several soldiers carry this unknown human on the back of the horse together.

"Who is he, Lieutenant?" Byron asked, feeling that nothing happened today was a coincidence.

"How do I know?" Nass glared at the guards, "You go back and tell Sergeant Emily that we found a coma who needed Ms. Prodmore to deal with it."

…………

Broll Bearskin woke up from his endless sleep, feeling pain from deep in his head, and when he sat up, his head felt like he was about to crack.

"What's wrong with me?" Druid covered his head and wondered. He thought about it carefully. He remembered his name, he was a night elf, and he also learned the druid's way. He should be in Danasus, why is he in this place?

Broll glanced around him. He judged that he was in the mountains and hills with the dark shadow under the moonlight. There was also dry air. The druid frowned. He didn't like such an environment, but he felt very familiar. Why?

There were so many vague memories that he could not remember no matter how much he thought about it. He rested for a moment, got up and left here, and he still remembered where Ashes Valley was, Fairwood, and the Black Coast.

"Are you sure that's foolproof?" After Broll's figure disappeared, two people standing on a hillside spoke. One of them was short and looked like a child, but his voice was comparable to that of an adult.

"No problem, my memory has washed away the key parts, and he can't recall the memories of Nathanos."

"That's good." Jizlok patted his chest with his hand, muttering the words "lucky" in his heart.

Merell Dongfeng sighed, looking at the goblins with admiration, and praised: "You did a good job in this matter, Nathanos will reward you."

"Hehe, hope it's gold coins." Jizlok grinned.

Even Nathanos did not expect that the original plan was to knock Logosh unconscious and throw it outside Theramore - this step went quite smoothly - and in order to protect Logosh, Broll Bearskin should have been with Logosh, but a terrible episode happened on the way. The druid suddenly said the real name of the Withered One, and said that he had participated in the Battle of the Ancients. At that time, Broll had accidentally seen the Withered One in the Black Crow Fortress. This made Gizlok never expect that in desperation, the goblin could only turn to Merriel Dongfeng, and the powerful mage immediately used magic to clear the Druid's memory.

"But is the master's next target really the Hammer of Doom?"

The mage sneered when he heard the goblin's question, and had already rejected Gizlok's doubts with his expression. "The Hammer of Doom is located in Phelas. It is a lush valley full of minerals and wood. Its geographical location is also very special. It extends to the north to the desolate land, to the west to the sea, to the southeast to the outer edge of the Thousand Needle Stone Forest. With such a natural advantage, the night elves and tribes have long been coveted. We must not try to fight for that land, at least not now."

"Then why does the master still want..."

"Nathanos's purpose has never been to the Hammer of Doom. He is just to meet someone in the arena of the Hammer of Doom."

"Man?" Gitzlok became more and more confused. He could not remember when the Withered One had installed spies or posts in Phelas, at least there was no record of what was going to Phelas in the craftsman's area.

Seeing the goblin becoming more and more confused, Merriel no longer concealed it. He asked, "Have you heard of the 'Twelve Withering Swords'?"

"Twelve Swords of Withering?" The name made Gizlok's eyes full of curiosity. Hearing the word "Wining", Gizlok was sure that it was related to Nathanos, but he had been in the Forgotten camp for several years, and felt that what he knew was not half as Merrier knew - he was the newcomer who had just joined.

"Yes, the twelve swords of withering." The mage repeated the name and then explained: "Twelve swords, twelve powers. It was an organization composed of warriors carefully selected by Nathanos. There were twelve people, but there were only two at present."

"Warriors? What kind of warriors?"

"Having powerful powers that are completely incompatible with appearance and form are unknown to outsiders and are hidden in the blind spots of people's vision."

Gizlok listened carefully, the more Merriel explained, the more curious he became. "So the Withered Master went to the Hammer of Doom to see such a warrior? Who is that?"

"This is not what you should know." Merriel glanced at the goblin meaningfully. The latter swallowed.

"Then why would you know?" Gitzlok swears in his heart. This is his last question to Merriel. He feels that if he talks more, the mage may blow him into powder at any time.

Hearing this question, Merell laughed again, and he smiled strangely and with a deep meaning. "Yes, why do I know?" He asked himself, and then his body gradually disappeared, and in an instant, he used magic to teleport back to Maraton, leaving Gizlok alone in the Stone Claw Mountains.

The goblin did not blame Merriel for leaving him alone, and he remembered Merriel's words.

‘Twelve sharp swords, twelve powers.’

‘There are only two people now.’

"One in the hammer of doom, the other..."
Chapter completed!