Chapter One Hundred Forty-One: Pilgrimage to the Divine Envoy

Han Shuo’s arrival was met with a chorus of cheers from the forest trolls. The old shaman trembled as he approached, then immediately knelt, his eyes brimming with tears as he cried out, "The Great God Dadala and his emissary, you have finally returned."

Taking in the scene, Han Shuo felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of emotion. Logically, these forest trolls were the greediest of scavengers, and he should have despised them. Yet, seeing how they treated him as a divine messenger and obeyed his every word, he suddenly found them not quite so detestable.

Plundering was simply the nature of this race. By the "survival of the fittest" rules of the Dark Forest, their behavior was, in a sense, acceptable. Much like large magical beasts that naturally hunted smaller ones for food, the forest trolls acted according to their instincts.

Looking around, every forest troll—young and old alike—gazed at him with longing. Their eyes held the most devout trust of a true believer; it was as if a single command from him would drive them to live or die without hesitation. This feeling struck Han Shuo as quite peculiar.

"Rest assured, your Great God Dadala will never forsake you," Han Shuo said, his voice solemn and heavy after a moment of silence.

The old shaman translated his words with teary-eyed fervor, and all the forest trolls raised their empty sacks and cheered loudly. It seemed that a single promise from Han Shuo was enough to make them forget all their hardships.

From his space ring, he began to produce sack after sack of grain, piling them onto the snow-cleared stone ground. Sturdy cotton clothes and various daily necessities appeared in a dazzling array before the trolls, who had been suffering through the bitter winter, causing them to dance with joy.

"These things are all prepared for you for this winter. The grain in these warehouses is enough for you to survive this cold season safely without having to resort to plundering. The Great God Dadala went out specifically to procure these for his people." Han Shuo’s deep voice carried melodiously across the entire troll village.

Led by the grateful, weeping old shaman, all the forest trolls knelt in worship. Following the shaman’s instructions, the troll chieftain directed the men to carry the grain and supplies back into the mountain caves behind them.

Han Shuo followed the old shaman to the newly refurbished temple in the village. Inside, not only was a statue of the little skeleton erected, but a stone statue of Han Shuo had also been installed. This made his feelings even more strange, as he felt, in a subtle way, that he had truly become their guardian deity.

"When I arrived, I saw signs of fighting outside the village. Are those pesky elves stirring up trouble again?" After entering with the little skeleton and giving a silent command for it to sit in the seat of honor, Han Shuo sat beside it and looked at the old shaman.

"Reporting to the Emissary, it is indeed those annoying elves. They have come to provoke us once again. But do not worry, Emissary; your brave people will never let them succeed. Under the radiance of the Great God Dadala, the elves will surely be forced to retreat in disgrace once more," the old shaman replied, his face glowing with religious fervor.

Han Shuo waved a hand, cutting off the shaman’s grandstanding. After a moment of thought, he instructed, "The grain and supplies I brought are enough to last you the winter. If any merchants come wanting to trade for those strange items of yours, feel free to exchange with them. Furthermore, without my order, do not go out plundering this winter. If we are going to do something, we will do it on a grand scale; petty skirmishes are not the way. The Great God Dadala will identify targets and notify you, so do not worry about having no work to do. Also, tell me in detail: how many elves came this time, and when did the fighting start?"

Following Han Shuo’s orders, the old shaman agreed without question. He immediately instructed a nearby forest troll warrior to pass these two mandates to the troll chieftain.

The old shaman then explained the details of the conflict. From his account, Han Shuo learned that every winter, the elves would wage a large-scale war against the trolls. This was the time when the trolls' food, supplies, and weapons were most scarce, making it the period when their combat effectiveness was at its lowest.

This time, the elves were acting as they did every year, seizing the opportunity to strike while the trolls were unable to plunder for resources. However, being fewer in number, the elves could never gain an absolute upper hand. They had only just finished a probing attack before retreating to plot their next move.

From the shaman, Han Shuo learned that there were many forest troll tribes of varying sizes in the Dark Forest. Because this tribe was tasked with guarding the holy ground of the Great God Dadala and possessed over five hundred warriors, it held a certain authority over the other tribes.

Now, with the appearance of the little skeleton and Han Shuo, the shaman was using their names to issue a call to arms, summoning the scattered forest trolls to gather and teach the elves a painful lesson.

Because the Great God Dadala was the deity of the forest trolls, the impact of the little skeleton's presence was immeasurable. In just ten days, over three hundred trolls from four smaller tribes had already arrived to worship its brilliance.

According to the old shaman, all the forest troll tribes in the Dark Forest would gather in a short time. Once that happened, the elves' offensive would not only fail to achieve its goal but would likely face catastrophic losses.

Han Shuo had initially worried that the elves might slaughter the trolls, but he hadn't expected that the little skeleton’s influence would draw the long-isolated tribes together like a pilgrimage. From the shaman’s words, Han Shuo realized that once they all gathered, there would be no fewer than two thousand trolls.

The elves of the Dark Forest seemed to number only in the hundreds. While they possessed archers and mages, facing a force several times their size meant they were likely to suffer a total defeat.

Rubbing his temples, Han Shuo felt a headache coming on. After some thought, he said, "It seems the elves are the ones who should be worried this time. Hm, I heard the elves are very wealthy. I think we should rob them clean."

"The Emissary means…?" The old shaman blinked, confused.

"Do you know where the elves live in the Dark Forest?" Han Shuo asked.

The old shaman paused, furrowed his brow, and replied, "We know the general area, but we have never been inside."

Han Shuo nodded with a smile. "That is fine. Once the other tribes arrive, let them stay behind to keep the elves occupied. We will lead this tribe to the elves' home and, taking advantage of the distraction, rob them blind."

"But Emissary, why don't we stay and join the brothers from the other tribes to kill all the elf warriors? These elves are truly despicable; they always cause trouble, sabotage our operations, and provoke us every winter. Over the years, many of our kin have been killed by them," the old shaman asked, hesitating for the first time to follow Han Shuo's suggestion blindly.

"The nature of us forest trolls is to plunder, not to kill. Besides, the elves currently in the Dark Forest are not the entirety of their race. If we slaughter them all, it will only bring us greater, unnecessary trouble." For Han Shuo, there was no need for a fight to the death. Furthermore, he didn't want to kill all the elves; he needed wealth—a vast amount of money—to support his cultivation of magic and dark arts, which was why he made this proposal.

Though still somewhat confused, the old shaman did not press the matter. A few days later, more forest trolls arrived from all directions. After Han Shuo and the little skeleton received the tidal wave of cheers and devout worship, a portion of the incoming trolls was left behind to hold the line against the elves. Han Shuo, the little skeleton, and the five hundred trolls from the shaman’s tribe set off toward the elves' settlement.

In the biting cold of winter, these five hundred forest trolls, well-supplied with grain and thick cotton clothing, marched into the depths of the Dark Forest with sharp weapons in their hands.