The trolls, almost at the top of the tree canopy, silently readied their weapons. Most of them revealed their triangular, sharp teeth, displaying a ferocious grin.
This was a hatred that had lasted for thousands of years.
For the trolls, ever since these pale-skinned, pointy-eared intruders first set foot on this continent 6800 years ago, they had been continuously stealing territories from the great Amani Empire.
They gradually seized control of this land. They had the speed of trolls, were sneaky and even agile, and these elves had many powerful advantages. The most formidable was their damned magic. The trolls had never encountered magic before; they had no way to counter these mysterious attacks or break through their arcane defenses.
The only thing they could do was to use their rapidly regenerating flesh and numerical superiority to suppress these detestable elves with blood and life.
The trolls succeeded at one point. Their ancestors forged an epic tale of the trolls with blood, exhausted the last drop of magical energy in the elf bloodline, and almost exterminated these frail creatures.
But over two thousand years ago, the elves formed an alliance with the cunning and deceitful humans. These two pale-skinned races completely defeated the Amani Empire. They captured the fortresses, burned the castles, set the cultural essence of the Amani Empire ablaze, and slaughtered countless troll brethren.
The once ruler of the planet, the great Amani Empire, became fragmented and never regained its former glory. All that remained were the shadows of continuous defeats over the centuries, like maggots gnawing at the soul of every troll, and the trolls no longer had the strength to restore their glory and reclaim everything that belonged to them.
Until now...
The sudden appearance of the Horde gave them hope for revenge. Zul'jin was willing to believe in them.
Orgrim Doomhammer, a Horde leader with enough courage and wisdom, made a promise to help them rebuild the Amani Empire.
In fact, when the humans and orcs started the war, Zul'jin tried to reunite the various troll tribes.
Amani, Firetree, Mossflayer, Vilebranch, Witherbark, Skullsplitter, Revantusk... These forest troll clans, which had been divided for countless generations and had long become hostile and hateful to each other, had a common point for the first time in front of a bigger and more glorious goal.
Zul'jin challenged and defeated the leaders of these clans one by one, whether through combat, competition, or something else.
They all fell before him, and their tribes would follow his command. The forest trolls were united once again.
In addition, the Frostmane and other frost troll clans, whose territories were taken by the Bronzebeard dwarves, also joined the army of revenge.
With the help of the Horde, they would cleanse the world in a way similar to the humans and elves, and then rule the forest again. The orcs showed no interest in the forest, and Zul'jin suspected they would occupy the valleys and plains of this world.
Let the orcs have them, all the trolls wanted was the forest.
In the tree, watching the elves below who were oblivious to the fact that they had stepped into the gates of hell, Zul'jin's ferocious smile grew wider. As someone who also grew up immersed in the mire of hatred and revenge, Zul'jin fully understood the feelings of his brethren.
They had penetrated deep into the elves' homeland, preparing to slaughter the elves on this land stolen from them, in this place that the elves considered their home and extremely safe. Let the elves taste the feeling of losing their homeland and their kin being slaughtered.
Suddenly, the sound of wind breaking overhead startled some of the patrolling elves.
It was already too late.
Trolls are not known for their strength, at least not compared to orcs.
In this environment where they were about to engage in close combat in less than two seconds, the shortcomings of the elves' single combat capabilities were magnified exponentially.
Zul'jin jumped down from the tree, his large feet landing squarely on the heads of two elves. The immense weight combined with the acceleration of gravity easily broke the necks of the two.
Before even landing on the forest floor, Zul'jin threw his axe in a peculiar manner.
The sharp axe spinning in mid-air easily flew between two elves. Before they could react, the rotating blade had cut open the throat of an elf facing Zul'jin. In less than half a second, the axe deeply cleaved into the skull of another elf who was a bit further back.
The same happened with his other axe.
The speed at which they fell was almost as fast as the two elves that Zul'jin had stepped on. The remaining four elves, devoid of life, collapsed, their blood splattering on the leaves of the forest floor.
A shocking sight!
Before they had a chance to scream, the remaining elves were also swiftly dealt with by the trolls descending from the sky.
Zul'jin was very satisfied with this appetizer-like ambush.
"Cut off their heads, hang them up! If there's a chance, tell the elves that come after, the trolls are here!"
On all the battle lines at the southern end of Eversong Woods, trolls were ferociously attacking the elves' outer patrols. Some troll units easily achieved victory, while others paid a heavy price.
"What? You're saying that some elves foresaw our arrival and set up counter-ambushes?" Zul'jin was very puzzled by his subordinate's report.
If this was a battle where warnings were given from top to bottom, the trolls' losses would undoubtedly be much greater. Unfortunately, only about one-fifth of the area was a disastrous defeat for the trolls, the rest were overwhelming victories.
"Never mind, leave the rest to the orcs. Let's see if Orgrim can do as he promised and break through the elves' damned defensive magic."
"What is it?"
When Gul'dan approached Orgrim, the Warchief asked cautiously.
"There's something you should see for yourself, great Doomhammer." Gul'dan bowed deeply.
Orgrim nodded, put his hammer on his shoulder, and signaled Gul'dan to lead the way.
Gul'dan turned around and led Doomhammer and his guards back.
Soon, they arrived at a large pit that had been dug out. At the bottom of the pit was a huge stone, with countless intricate runes drawn on its rough surface. The brushwork was definitely from some dexterous creature.
But that wasn't the point.
Even Doomhammer, who had no understanding of mystical powers and mental strength, could feel the energy emanating from this heavy stone.
"Is this the elves' trap?" Orgrim asked.
"Yes, and not just a trap."