It had been a long time since Damian had forgotten the things he had promised in the past. As his life grew as vast as that of the elves, his attachment to life diminished.
The silence of time was evident when you could easily live a thousand years; Damian was proof of that, and now he understands much more about Frieren, who had a distorted reality in the eyes of a human.
Feelings, emotions, and much more are compressed in such a way that it becomes increasingly complex to demonstrate them. What makes a person human? The answer would be the awareness that one would die, but when that feeling of death becomes more distant, what shapes one as a human becomes increasingly difficult to demonstrate.
Damian was now in a position similar to that of a god, something small that could be perceived from his eyes. Looking at his citizens, who would die within a hundred years, he had to prepare so that all his current efforts would be useful in the future.
...
In an inn in Snowstorm City, a pair of men, huddled in the corner of the bar, drank calmly, avoiding the discussions about the Night's Watch. Their presence added silence to the surroundings; one didn't need to be a great person to know that these two men had witnessed horrible things.
These two men wore armor in poor condition; their old and tattered cloaks were stained with dried blood, giving a strong presence that they had been involved in some kind of fight.
One of the men had fiery red hair. His eyes were dark and distant, and he moved with great vigilance in case an enemy emerged from a corner of the tavern. He was large and heavy, like a rock, but what stood out most about him was his patience.
"Have you heard? The Night's Watch has increased by over thirty thousand active soldiers guarding the mountains and outposts along the northeastern border of the North." An old drunkard who was a rancher was glad that the city where he lived had a large army.
One at the back responded, "I heard that the other cities are just going to die; demons are not like before, and now they seem invincible to humans like us without magic."
"It's true; the mages are doing all the work alongside the priests. We would have lost if not for them."
"No, we would have lost if not for the magical barriers protecting the main cities. Humanity has staggered a lot, and we only hold on thanks to those cities; we would have lost long ago."
"We live like cattle."
"We don't live like cattle; we only have our lord's magical protection in the city. Do you hear those thunderclaps in the distance? If a demon comes within a thousand meters of the city, a lightning bolt will strike from the sky and turn it to ashes."
The man with fiery red hair didn't need to speak to convey everything he initially wanted; now he somehow had to find that lord whom everyone here was so proud of.
The most astonishing thing was that the lord of this vast territory should have died some years ago; the maximum age of soldiers in combat did not exceed seventy years, and that was for those who had received few injuries to their bodies.
"You two, are you from the front?" An old man approached the two big, strong men in the corner of the tavern.
"What's your name?"
"Come on, tell us your name; we respect warriors a lot, especially those who have fought against demons. We'll buy you all the drinks; come on, who are you?"
"My name is Born; I'm not from this city, but I know demons well." The man with fiery red hair was named Born; his brother beside him was Rollo, and both had traveled far just to get here.
Everyone inside the tavern who was discussing the combat level of the Night's Watch soldiers fell silent; they wanted to hear the story of these two big, strong men.
"So, where do you come from?" The old man asking the questions became even more interested in what these people could tell him.
Born looked at everyone with zero emotions on his face; he didn't show anger either, so after finishing his drink, he said, "I come from a continent called Kalimdor; we are looking for new continents in this vast world, and we are glad to find one that is not yet devastated by war."
"Continent Kalimdor?"
"Where is that, great man?"
"Kalimdor is one of the continental masses of Azeroth. It is located west of the Eastern Kingdoms and southeast of Northrend, all separated by the Great Sea. Kalimdor is home to night elves, orcs, tauren, trolls, and draenei who coexist with ogres, centaurs, naga, demons, and other lesser races."
"Azeroth is the birthplace of many races, the most famous being elves of all kinds, humans, dwarves, goblins, trolls, gnomes, and dragons. We were fine; there were no wars. But then, the demonic armies of the Burning Legion came and ended the peace in Azeroth."
Born paused as if he wanted to digest all that anger and said, "Gradually, other races came to Azeroth. The inhabitants of Azeroth have fought brutally against demons and their servants; much blood was and is shed."
"We come here to ask that humans join the Alliance; as long as they support us, we can match the power on the front beyond the seas." Rollo spoke for the first time, introducing himself.
Silence filled the entire tavern, but suddenly, everyone started laughing loudly. "That story you just made up should be written in a book."
"Haha, that's great."
Born looked at everyone with growing fury in his chest, and without hesitation, he struck the bar of the tavern with force, splitting it in two.
Boom!
"I demand to speak with your lord!"