Cong Xi Yi Ren Kai Shi Mang Chuan Zhong Gu

The frozen soil of the Norsca Mountains has never been a good place for marching. Even for an elf with excellent physical fitness, Noel could hardly hold on.

With his keen sense of smell, he could smell the unpleasant odor of sweat on his body and the stench of rotting flesh that had not dissipated from the wolfskin clothing.

The cold wind beat against the frozen soil, causing a shrill scream.

The cold wind from all directions pushed the elf's body. Whenever the changeable north wind suddenly turned back, causing Noel to move against the wind, he had to lie down in the snow and give in to the unnatural power.

The elf's senses allowed him to capture the madness of magic. The wind of magic was always so abundant at the two poles, and even the newly fallen snow was full of magic.

Fortunately, the amount of magical wind has not yet reached the threshold. This is just the Giant Home Mountain Range, not the peak of hell further north.

If the environment was suddenly given life by magic, he would definitely die here.

Noel prayed to Salil, the god of the dead, and expressed his reverence for death and his yearning for the peaceful world after death. Salil, or his divine name on the human side - Mor.

Of course, Noel pleaded with the Lord of the Dead. He hoped that death would come as late as possible, or at least allow him to have rich enough memories. After he had experienced enough adventures, he would fall into sleep.

When the wind became suitable for moving forward again, Noel climbed out of the snow nest and continued to be pushed forward by the wind.

The elven longbow on his body became abnormally heavy in the extreme cold. Noel could still hold on, but his weapon seemed to be almost unable to hold on.

No wonder the Norscans farther north preferred javelins to short bows.

Noel didn't even dare to adjust the bow string, for fear that it would break with just a light touch.

As a masterpiece that Noel has used since childhood and made by his own hands, if it were destroyed like this, it would be the worst punishment of fate for the elves.

Another long night fell. Noel found a slope that was raised toward the north, hid under the slope, and carefully protected the longbow.

It was only slightly heavy and did not break as Noel expected.

This may be related to the several magic symbols left by Prince Pearl Litanel on it.

The hermit sage will bestow blessings on all elves who encounter him. Perhaps what he gave to Noel was the resistance of weapons to severe cold.

The elf held the bow and took a short nap. His ears stood up sharply, catching the wind and grass under the night.

What woke him up first was not the enemy, but the most unbearable hunger in the cold weather.

He took out the flask, drank a little of Kislev's strong liquor that could be used as fuel, and then took out the hard meat strips and put them into his mouth.

During the moment of his confrontation with the food, the elf keenly captured the unusual footsteps in the west.

It seems to be a heavy individual, and does not know how to hide.

Norscan?

Not long after, the light of the oil lamp came from the west, bringing with it a short creature as thick as a water tank.

Might as well be Norscan.

Unpleasant emotions grew in Noel's heart. He looked at the dwarf in the light cautiously, took out the arrows, and tightened his grip on the longbow.

The short man wore a horned helmet and intimidating plate armor. It was hard to imagine how he was trudging on the snow with hundreds of kilograms of fine steel. Noel only hoped that the stupid and easily fooled short man would not regard him as an enemy.

He is not an elf who discriminates against dwarves, but dwarves are too unfriendly to elves. Whether it is Druchi or Asul, whether it is Eislay or Enil, meeting a dwarf will not be a wonderful encounter.

Really bad!

Although the Asur mail on Noel is as light as nothing, the protection it provides is not as good as the thick rune armor of the dwarves.

His arrows could not break through the dwarves' armor, and if they were caught in close combat, his magic sword might not be able to break the rune helmets on the dwarves.

On the contrary, he is so light that he can easily be split in half by an axe.

Even if the dwarf's battle ax couldn't break through the standard armor of the high elf soldiers, he couldn't bear the impact of a blunt weapon.

Really bad.

Noel already had the intention to retreat. Trekking under the cover of night was not a good option, but there was no other way.

He is not an elite soldier of the high elves who was indistinguishable from the dwarf warriors during the Longbeard War. He is just an Aenir who has been at ease for hundreds of years.

Noel felt even worse when he thought that he could become a veteran just by wearing the same equipment as a veteran.

The dwarf gradually approached the slope. The armor style was obviously not the antique from the Battle of Longbeard.

And the armor on Noel's body has not been improved for thousands of years. Who knows if the forging process of the dwarves has been improved?

Perhaps before leaving Lauren Loren Forest, Noel should first visit Ulthuan and learn swordsmanship from Asul for hundreds of years before going out to explore.

But now it's too late to regret.

Seemingly noticing Noel, the dwarf who was heading forward in the wind and snow suddenly stopped. He placed his lamp on the snow and took out the buckler from his back.

As if he thought it was unnecessary, after seeing Noel's appearance clearly, he put the shield back behind him.

The loud voice conveyed goodwill in the ancient Khazalid language. Fortunately, Dwarf language is a rare dwarf knowledge that elves of the same ancient race can learn.

I smell alcohol! It's not Valaya's Tears or Grimnir's Harvest. I've had enough of these two bitter beers. Do elves also have strong liquor?

An obvious sound of inhalation came from inside the armor. The other party's silly behavior did not arouse Noel's ridicule, and he only felt relieved.

Human wine! The dwarf said loudly in an affirmative tone. He lifted the lamp slightly greedily and approached the elf resting at the foot of the slope.

He looked at the bow and arrows that the elf was holding tightly, without paying any attention to them. He continued to communicate in a carefree tone that was either mocking or sincere.

I am not a dwarf from the Immortal Kingdom. Put down your weapons! Is this your first time in the Land of Giants?

Noel retracted the arrow and asked with some confusion:

The Immortal Kingdom? It sounds like there are differences between the dwarf kingdoms. I thought you were one.

According to Noel's experience, dwarves like to hear such words, and their identification with the mountain kingdom is as stubborn as their character.

Of course we are one! But the supreme king who rules the North dwarves is Granni. The high king after Granni cannot gain our loyalty. He can only rule the dwarves in the immortal kingdom.

Just as the elf expected, the dwarf explained with a smile. He seemed to be satisfied with the elf's view of the mountain kingdom.

When he noticed the dwarf's greasy eyes that kept wandering around his body, Noel guessed what he wanted and decisively took out the wine bottle, successfully diverting the disgusting gaze of a maniac looking for a woman.

The delicate elf hip flask was roughly opened by the dwarf. When the dwarf held the mouth of the bottle in his mouth without any disdain and swallowed the wine, Noel had already made up his mind to change to a hip flask.