Tusha-7

The four cavalrymen arrived before Tusha and Glocara. The leader showed no signs of aggression; in fact, he seemed relaxed and lacked obvious vigilance. However, his followers displayed undisguised wariness towards Tusha. Tusha struggled to discern whether the leader was overly confident or simply perceived his role as that of a casual guide.

"State your name and purpose," demanded the leader.

"Tusha. Someone sent me to find Varokar in Arathi Highlands."

"I am Varokar – Lieutenant Varokar. Yes, I anticipated your visit."

"I need to meet someone named Lawrence."

"You will meet him shortly. Before that, I must express my displeasure: you were too ruthless. If not for orders from above, my soldiers would have retaliated mercilessly for your torturous actions. Additionally, there's a question: who is this lady behind you? If she weren't standing in such a conspicuous place in the dead of night, I wouldn't have noticed you so quickly. Seeing a troll and a human woman traveling and camping together, a daily spectacle for me, is an unexpected surprise. Is she your hostage? Or perhaps... a food supply?"

Varokar transitioned from seemingly foolish pleasantries to unabashed mockery, all while maintaining a smile on his face. Glocara knew she should restrain her annoyance but found herself unconsciously placing her right hand on her hip.

"It appears she is quite displeased with my assumptions. I apologize for my indiscretion, lady. However, as the guardian of the Arathi people, it's challenging for me to accept any relationship between humans and trolls beyond enmity."

"Yes, she is a hostage," Tusha replied. "To traverse Alliance territories, I needed to make some necessary preparations. Although she is just an ordinary woman with no background or intellect, unaware of what is happening, she can at least instill some concerns among the Alliance attempting to attack me."

Varokar chuckled loudly. "So, this lady is still in the dark? Look at her expression... quite amusing. I'm curious, Tusha, my friend, by what method did you manage to keep her by your side? While I have always been successful with women, I never refuse to absorb new knowledge and strategies."

"Unfortunately, it's a strategy only trolls attempt. Since I am about to meet Lawrence and conclude my journey, she is no longer needed. I don't believe she qualifies to stay here and eavesdrop on our conversation." Tusha turned to Glocara. "You can leave now, woman. If not for maintaining a friendly atmosphere with this gentleman rider, I would have terminated your life immediately because you are now useless."

Glocara looked into Tusha's eyes. Since the remark about having "no background," she fully understood Tusha's intentions. Although she now knew that Tusha came to Arathi for a specific purpose, she wasn't surprised. She felt that Tusha's emphasis on strategies unrelated to her was too obvious, hoping that the seemingly unsophisticated lieutenant hadn't noticed. To enhance the effect, Tusha even adapted to Varokar's exaggerated tone, using terms like "gentleman rider." It amused Glocara, but she couldn't bring herself to laugh. Retreating one step would be a genuine farewell.

Regardless of her own concerns or those for Tusha, the only correct choice was to extricate herself from this situation as quickly as possible. Glocara even considered feigning a terrified look and crying out as she departed – though she realized her acting skills were extremely poor. If Varokar was truly obtuse, he couldn't have become the intermediary for this meeting.

"No, lady, you can't go anywhere. After a long journey, you must be exhausted, and leaving a fellow human in the dangerous wilderness at midnight is unacceptable. Now, I officially declare: Mr. Tusha, and... sorry, may I ask your name?"

"...Glocara." She had never thought that she would have an aversion to uttering her own name.

"So, Mr. Tusha, Miss Glocara, you are now guests of Stromgarde."

Varokar elongated the word "guests" and followed it with a deliberate pause, continuing with his smile. Even without this mocking emphasis, both already knew that the so-called guests here wouldn't be greeted with open arms, enter a comfortable and bright living room, or receive heartfelt offers of hot tea.

"Such bad luck. The guest carriage is currently under repair, right?" Varokar suddenly spoke to the guards behind him.

"Yes, that's correct. Under repair."

"So, I'm sorry, but I can only take you two in using another method. Please cooperate, especially you, Mr. Tusha."

"As long as you can take me to Lawrence."

"Of course." He turned to the guards again. "Bring out the chains and such."

They took away everything the two were carrying, then handcuffed Tusha's hands. One cavalryman led him, while two others guarded on his sides. Tusha showed no resistance, making Glocara wonder what could be so significant that he endured such treatment. When a guard forcefully pulled the chain holding Tusha to check its security, Glocara said, "Be gentle; he has a shoulder injury," but no one paid attention to her words. Perhaps intentionally, Tusha never looked at her again.

"Well... it's your turn, Miss Glocara." After dealing with Tusha, Varokar said, "Although we have extra chains, I don't intend to use them on you. You're just a concerned victim who deserves reasonable protection. I need to figure out a reasonable way... Right, how about this?"

Varokar dismounted and said to her, "Please use my mount."

This move surprised not only Glocara but also the guards, as it was Lieutenant Varokar's military horse.

"But... I... I don't know how to ride a horse." Glocara almost said, "Thank you for your kindness."

"It's okay; please get on. I have a way."

"Lieutenant..." one of the guards began.

"Shut up. Don't hinder me from showing proper courtesy to this lady."

He made an exaggerated gesture of "please" towards Glocara, as if collecting scattered dust from the air.

Glocara had no choice but to walk forward. Passing by Tusha, she glanced at him, but he continued staring straight ahead without any response. Varokar helped Glocara onto the tall horse with a splendid saddle; she had to admit it was much more comfortable than riding on a raptor. Her thoughts naturally drifted back to the moment when a man led a horse in front for her – but she quickly realized that associating this with that naive and foolish idea was extremely silly. Varokar mounted behind her, his arm around her side, holding the reins.

"If there's any offense, I apologize," he said, "but this is the best way for you to have a safe and comfortable journey."

Glocara tried to shrink her shoulders, move her hips forward, creating some space between her and Varokar. However, Varokar placed his right hand on her thigh.

"Don't move, miss. My beloved steed runs at an extraordinary speed; you might fall if you're not steady. Now, let's go."

Varokar tightened the reins, brought his arm closer, and grasped Glocara. His horse led the way, followed by three riders escorting Tusha.

Glocara lowered her head, staring at the mane on the horse's neck, not wanting to know where they were going. She breathed through her mouth, avoiding the scent of the man behind her. She felt neither warmth nor safety; it was like being immersed in a mixture of mud and broken ice. What truly disgusted her about her situation was realizing that Tusha was right behind her, like a wild dog, being led, running hurriedly with a lowered head behind the horse's tail.

The questions she had buried about Tusha resurfaced in Glocara's mind: Who are you? Why did you come to Arathi Highlands? These questions became important again because Glocara wanted to escape from the current situation – she couldn't understand why Tusha would allow such a thing to happen. She didn't expect Tusha to eliminate the humiliation she endured, but he should at least value the treatment he received. Tusha must be bound by something very important; compared to that, she might not be worth even a glance from him.

Earlier, Varokar said she was a hostage. She thought, throughout the entire journey before Varokar's arrival, she had absolutely nothing to do with that word. But now, the situation was different. She wasn't Tusha's personal hostage but rather a trivial pawn in this whole predicament. Since learning about her brother's death by raptor, she cried for the first time; back then, at least, she could vent in her small room. But now, she couldn't let him know that the person shedding tears was currently being embraced. To avoid Varokar noticing any movement, she controlled her breathing with extremely small and infrequent breaths, letting tears flow to her mouth without wiping them, letting the cold wind dry them. Despite the vast wilderness and the bold wind ahead, Glocara had never felt her living space so cramped.

Now, Tusha was sitting in a dungeon, hands still shackled. He didn't know where Varokar took Glocara since she mounted that horse; their eyes hadn't met again.

Since the first day of the journey, he knew he would face such a situation. The information was in someone else's hands, and besides the names Lawrence and Varokar, he had nothing. Resisting Varokar was meaningless; it would only push him away from the goal. He knew he wouldn't die, at least not before the instigator achieved the goal. So, Tusha could only comply and wait until he was close to what he sought.

He heard someone descending the stairs into the dungeon. Just one person, with slow, almost weary footsteps. Tusha had nothing that could serve as a weapon, so he intended to listen carefully to what the newcomer had to say.

The person reached the iron bars, an elderly human male over sixty. His voice was like the cobwebs and dust in the dungeon, fragmented, floating in the heavy air.

"Vossuva. I'm glad you're still alive, old friend."

Tusha straightened slightly. "You're Lawrence?"

"Yes. Lawrence Romano, that's my real name."

"How do you prove it?"

"By others. Those around me, people who know me. My son, Tony. To them, I am Lawrence. Just like the reason you became Tusha. Tony brought you here; what's your impression of him?"

"Don't worry. He certainly inherited your talent for pretending to be foolish."

Tusha couldn't say he was entirely unsurprised. Though the lighting was dim, and the person before him had aged much, Tusha recognized him at a glance. He had once bowed to Vossuva, begging for mercy under the poisoned dagger. He had endured severe torture to protect Vossuva from pursuers. He had vowed to assist Vossuva in achieving his goal but had stolen the original formula for the communion elixir and disappeared. Only a handful knew his true name, and fewer remembered him as the creator of the "Dinner."