With Tristan's battered form cradled in Nox’s arms, Thorian and his warriors hastily withdrew to Wolvendale. Upon reaching the village's outer defenses, Thorian pivoted towards Vigil, urgency etched in his tone, "Heal him. He's losing too much blood."

Acknowledging Thorian's command with a grave nod, Vigil approached Nox, who was holding the wounded Tristan. Placing his hand gently atop Tristan's brow, Vigil invoked a healing spell. A radiant glow enveloped Tristan, knitting his severe wounds together as they miraculously began to heal.

Tristan, roused by a fit of coughing, blinked open his eyes, confusion clouding his gaze as he surveyed the array of creatures that encircled him. "What... What's happening?"

"All will be made clear in time," Thorian assured, his smile warm and inviting as he motioned towards the gates of Wolvendale. "First, let us find shelter within these walls."

Recognition dawned in Tristan's eyes as they settled on Thorian. "You're that monster," he murmured, disbelief creeping into his voice as he took in the sight Thorian pointed to—a village teeming with beings of myth. "A village... of monsters?"

"Indeed," Thorian responded with a light chuckle, signaling for the guards to usher them through. "Let's find a more fitting place to talk."

However, Tristan paid no attention to Thorian's words. His gaze flitted anxiously among the monsters encircling him, each one more menacing than the last.

"Do you wish to flee?" Thorian inquired, his question catching Tristan off guard and laying bare his inner turmoil. "You may, should you choose to. But be forewarned, returning to your city now would seal your fate."

"Are you threatening to kill me?" Tristan's voice was icy, his stare drilling into Thorian with a defiance that seemed to reach into the very depths of his soul.

Zogarth, witnessing this boldness, grumbled disapprovingly, "Such insolence. To address our lord in this manner after everything we've undertaken on your behalf."

"Let it be," Thorian signaled for his general to stand down with a wave of his hand. "He is unaware of the full context."

"And what might that be?" Tristan's brow creased in confusion.

"As I've mentioned, this isn't the place for explanations," Thorian sighed, weary of the back and forth. "So, what is it to be? Will you flee, or are you prepared to uncover the truth?"

Faced with this stark choice, Tristan's expression turned grim, his complexion ashen. He muttered his decision, albeit reluctantly. "It seems I'm bereft of any real choice."

Taking Tristan's acquiescence as sufficient, Thorian guided them towards the heart of Wolvendale. The moment their immediate task was deemed complete, the lesser members of their party dispersed to their various duties, leaving only the core council to accompany Thorian to the Village Hall for detailed discussions.

As they made their way, Tristan was a mixture of awe and apprehension. The ingenuity of the creatures around him was astonishing, yet the proximity of such formidable beings sent tremors of fear through him, evident in his unsteady hands.

Upon their arrival at the Village Hall, Zogarth, concealing his discomfort, announced his departure. "I will remain outside to await the return of those who accompanied the human forces, in case those assassins have dared to interfere."

"Of course, you do that," Forlune replied, barely concealing his amusement. It was evident to all that Zogarth sought any pretext to avoid entering the Hall, given his inability to do so.

"Assassins?" Tristan interjected, his confusion palpable. "What assassins are you referring to?"

"You are truly unaware," Forlune exhaled, a mix of frustration and pity in his voice. "Come, let us go inside. Our lord will soon clarify everything."

With a wary nod, Tristan followed Thorian into the Village Hall, and the group made their way to the meeting room upstairs. They gathered around the table, leaving only the chair Zogarth once occupied vacant. Tristan hesitantly took a seat in it, his nerves apparent.

"Before we proceed, there is something you must understand," Thorian began, locking eyes with Tristan. "You and your comrades were on the brink of death tonight. Nalia's assassins had been shadowing your march from Locksley."

"You speak of assassins again, but how could you know about them?" Tristan echoed, his fingers clenching into a fist. "From what I’ve seen, you’re the one who has attacked me and my men. You almost killed me."

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"Mind your manners, young man," Forlune chided sharply. "That is no way to speak to a lord, especially not to the one who just saved your life."

Even as Forlune starred daggers at him, Tristan remained steadfast, his eyes never breaking contact. "How did you save my life? By slashing my chest open? By mercilessly beating my friends and men? Is that what you consider saving?"

“I’m going to kill him,” Forlune’s eyes flared as he raised his hand, ready to strike, but Thorian calmly stopped him.

“Don’t escalate the situation,” Thorian halted Forlune with his hand, making the latter grumble and sit back down on his seat.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Thorian looked back at Tristan. “I am sorry for having handled you roughly. But the fact of the matter is that we were under Nalia’s assassins watchful eyes. Had I not made your death convincing, a war would have started. One that would have undoubtedly destroyed Locksley.”

Hearing Thorian’s soothing voice, Tristan felt awkward. His eyes were still fidgety and his fists still clenched, but after letting a deep breath, he calmed himself. “I am still very much confused. How did you know that we were trailed by assassins? And how do you know about Nalia?”

"That is more than understandable," Thorian conceded with a gentle smile. "To address your earlier question, we have our sources within Locksley. We were informed of your father's mysterious disappearance and the alleged clue you pursued."

Thorian's tone then adopted a chilling edge, "That clue, however, was a deceit concocted by Nalia's men. By all means, that trap should have killed you and all of your men. Given your level of power, surviving an attack from those assassins would have been impossible."

Tristan's face flushed with mortification at the realization. He looked down, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes as he stammered, “I… I don’t know what to say. The thought of an ambush just never crossed my mind."

Seeking to spare Tristan further discomfort, Thorian steered the conversation in a new direction. "Do you understand why you were targeted for assassination?"

Lifting his gaze, still tinged with shame, Tristan ventured, "Is it because I am the eldest son of the Lord of Locksley?"

"Exactly," Thorian affirmed. "As the heir apparent to the Lordship of Locksley, you would naturally be the next obstacle for whoever seeks to undermine your family. After William, you would be their next target."

Tristan's expression turned grave, but it was quickly replaced by a look of sheer panic. "Wait, if that's the case, then my brother James is in peril! He's the next in line after me."

Forlune couldn't help but let out a chuckle at Tristan's realization, whereas Thorian offered a reassuring smile. "Worry not, I've already dispatched my men to ensure your brother's safety. He will be joining us shortly."

"You... you already took action?" Tristan's face registered shock, his mouth hanging open momentarily before he shook his head, bewildered. "How do you possess such detailed knowledge? You are more informed about the happenings in my own city than I am."

"The key difference lies in knowing exactly what to look for, while you don’t," Thorian explained. "This insight comes with experience."

Tristan couldn't help but self-mockingly chuckle. "I'm truly foolish. General Henry cautioned me repeatedly against haste, yet I still rushed into the search. My recklessness could have doomed us all."

Thorian let out a heavy sigh, acknowledging Tristan's self-critique. "While I can't dispute your assessment, I admire your courage. Not many humans would face their mortality with such dignity."

Even though Thorian praised him, Tristan did not look happy. With a dejected smile, he shook his head. "Thank you, but I’m really lost here. Today has just been one shock after the other."

Observing Tristan's fragile demeanor, Thorian regarded him with a mix of sympathy and respect. The young man had not only lost his father but also nearly led those he cherished into peril in his desperate quest for answers. For someone barely into his twenties, the sheer resolve to maintain composure rather than succumbing to despair was commendable.

Thorian, with a deep sigh, made his intentions clear to Tristan. "I want you to understand something vital—your adversary is also ours. Nalia's downfall will be by our hands."

"We shall tear her to pieces," Forlune added with a dark grumble.

Still in a down mood, Tristan looked up in mild confusion. "I appreciate your support, but why would you help us? Has she wronged you in any way?"

Forlune couldn't contain his laughter at the question, his booming chuckles filling the room as the rest of the kobolds appeared ready for battle. "Wronged us?" he echoed, amusement lacing his tone.

"She has done far more than simply wrong us," Thorian explained, his laughter mingling with Forlune's. "She launched an assault against us with a force of over two thousand humans, all brainwashed to fight for her cause. She killed many of our men, and caused deep grief."

Thorian's gaze then drifted to Nox, who had remained quiet throughout the discussion. Catching Thorian's look, Nox merely shrugged, offering a wry smile in return.

Encouraged by Nox's laid-back reaction, Thorian returned the smile before addressing Tristan, who seemed to be digesting the new information. "We did neutralize the humans who attacked us, but Nalia was not among the fallen. As the mastermind of the assault, we will not rest in peace until she, and her entire network, are eradicated."

Tristan took in a deep breath before declaring, "Our objectives align, then," He then straightened his posture, reclaiming a measure of his composure. "But what happens after Nalia's downfall? What are your plans for the aftermath?"

At Tristan's pointed inquiry, Thorian's response was tinged with mirth. "Much will depend on how your people react. Should you prove to be reasonable, we will reciprocate. My goal is not the decimation of your kind afterall. If it was, then there were many opportunities for me to completely destroy Locksley."

Tristan exhaled a sigh of relief, his gaze meeting Thorian's with newfound resolve. "If your words are true, and you did indeed save me, then I owe you a debt of life. As long as you treat my people with respect, I shall do the same to yours."