Chapter 585

Chapter 585: The Quicksand Crisis

From the source of the voice, a Night Elf priest in a white robe was arranging a shelf on the terrace. She said, "Long ago, I saw a Druid transform while wearing it. It could even adjust to become the form of a giant bear, protecting the Druid’s ribs. It was made from the shell of a mantis leader, only such a perfect shell could possess such magic."

"Is it true?" Greed asked her.

"If you don’t wear it, you’ll never know what’s hidden in the stone," Jesse said a simple dwarf proverb, leaning against the nearby wooden pole said, "If you put it on, you’ll know, anyway, I don’t believe that such a valuable ancient armor can be easily torn by you."

"Whether it can be torn or not is one thing, will I be strangled?" Greed asked cautiously.

He looked at Vereesa, then at Jesse, and everyone fell silent.

"If I don’t even have this courage, what am I doing as a Mountain King?!"

Greed directly took out the armor and put it on, muttering to himself, "Indeed, it’s quite heavy, and isn’t it a bit big…"

After all, this is an armor worn by Night Elves. It was indeed not well-fitting for a dwarf, but before he could finish his sentence, the armor quickly shrank as if it were alive.

Greed thought the armor was really going to strangle him, so he hastily tried to grab the collar, but once the armor adjusted to his size, it stopped changing.

"Interesting, Jesse."

He thumped his chest, furrowed his brows, suddenly grew larger, his skin hardened and turned gray, his eyes emitted lightning, and the rumble in the quiet Feathermoon Stronghold sounded quite loud.

The insectoid armor expanded as expected, adapting to a new size to protect key areas like the chest and shoulders. The joints between the plates appeared soft but were actually quite tough.

Greed quickly returned to his original form, as maintaining the appearance of a celestial being was quite exhausting. The insectoid helmet reverted back to its previous compact form.

"My goodness, it’s true," he said to the Night Elf woman beside him who was organizing the shelves. "Thank you, miss. If you hadn’t spoken up, we wouldn’t have known!"

However, the woman seemed stunned and nodded after a moment, clearly amazed by the dwarf’s Earthen form.

"So, are we making the trade?" Greed asked eagerly.

"I agree," Vereesa said with a smile. "Why carry around this Satyr’s head? Do you really think the Maraudine Centaur have something better to offer than this armor?"

"I agree as well," Jesse said. "And I think it’s a great deal already."

Mosa nodded and said, "Beautiful piece."

With everyone in agreement, after finishing lunch, Jesse brought the package containing Vyletongue’s head to Shandris Feathermoon’s cabin. He placed the head down and said, "We have agreed, General. I hope this head will help you achieve your goals."

"Thank you very much," Shandris said as she opened the cloth bundle to sneak a peek at the half-hidden demon face inside. "I am very interested. How did you know Vyletongue was hiding deep in Maraudon?"

"Actually, we had no idea," Jesse replied. "We were just tracking demons deep inside to find clues. The Centaur mentioned demons hiding inside… Yesterday, Vereesa Windrunner already briefed the general in detail, right?"

Shandris nodded and said, "After all, we have been hunting for a long time without figuring out the hiding place of this Satyr leader. Maybe we should contact the Centaur as well. It could help us track the movements of other Satyrs."

"I have another question, General," Jesse said. "I wonder, where can we find those huge Silithids?"

"Leave Feathermoon Stronghold and head back into the jungle, continue south. You don’t need to search for them, they will come to you," Shandris Feathermoon said.

"I thought we had to enter the Silithus desert to find those bugs," Jesse said.

"Perhaps the misfortune of this world has brought you good luck," Shandris Feathermoon said.

"Why do you say that?" Jesse asked.

The sentry general looked at Jesse silently for a moment before saying, "At this moment, the activity of the Silithids in Silithus is higher than any time in the past thousand years. So you can find countless Silithid burrows, eggs left behind, and other remnants scattered outside Silithus. The Cenarion Circle and sentry forces are unable to stop these low-level creatures from escaping. The Bronze Dragons have not responded to our calls for a long time."

"I think maybe we can ask the Tauren for help, General," said Jesse. "If a second War of the Shifting Sands is unavoidable, they are your most reliable allies."

Shandris had a blank expression and did not respond, maybe detecting a hint of sarcasm in the statement.

But Jesse did not intend to be sarcastic. He just hoped to say something to help the Tauren out of trouble. If the Night Elves were willing to offer a bit of refuge to the exiled Tauren in their forests instead of refusing them entry, the Tauren’s situation might improve greatly.

Jesse nodded in thanks and said, "We are planning to leave Feathermoon Stronghold. We appreciate the General’s hospitality. Goodbye for now."

"Thank you for your suggestion," nodded Shandris Feathermoon. "Farewell, human. May time heal your sorrows in the end."

"May time heal your sorrows" was a common farewell phrase among the Night Elves. Jesse was surprised to hear Shandris use this universal phrase.

Perhaps she was saying it to herself as well. The Bronze Dragons were the guardians of time. If anyone could help the Kaldorei out of the predicament in Silithus, it would be the Bronze Dragons.

As for why the Bronze Dragons remained silent about the crisis facing Kalimdor, Jesse speculated that the heavy casualties suffered by the Bronze Dragons in the War of the Shifting Sands a thousand years ago, not to mention the fact that the Bronze Dragon Aspect, Nozdormu, and the other dragon aspects were still sealed by the Demon Soul forged by Deathwing, left them unable to intervene to stop the Qiraji from expanding once again.

The Dragonmaw Orcs in Grim Batol controlled the Demon Soul, enslaving the Red Dragon Queen. As long as it remained unbroken, the power of the dragon aspects sealed since the War of the Ancients would not be released.

In the afternoon, everyone boarded a wooden boat to leave Feathermoon Stronghold and return to Feralas Jungle. The journey was just as boring as the one before, with misty and unclear sea views. However, this time there was less unknown, which lessened the worries and fears.

The next day when they returned to the beach, the sentries left one by one, leaving only one lonely Night Elf guard on the pier. Jesse looked at him and then gazed towards the blurry forest in the distance.

The next part of the journey was just ahead.