The grand fire-gathering festival began.

In the endless dark wilderness, a long dragon composed of torches roams the earth, and all the major tribes on the grassland converge here, and the giant bull drum more than ten meters high reverberates to the sky, and the surging drum seems to beat on your heart, shaking in all directions.

Pillars of fire lit up on the earth, illuminating the night as if it were day, and orcs on horseback swirled around the pillars of fire, chanting the name of Kedaren, and then gathered in the center of the assembly.

The nearly eighty-meter-high giant stone pillars roughly enclose a circle, and in the middle is a rough altar built of stone slabs, and on each stone pillar stands a shaman, and as he recites ancient incantations, the flames of the fire pillars on the wilderness gradually rise, and with the air current, they form a line of fire to gather above the altar, and then condense into one place, and fall violently, smashing on the altar, forming a burning fireball.

After that, the shamans set up a magic circle to keep the magic energy flowing so that the flame would not be extinguished. This is the first round of the conference, the Fire of Earth.

On the last day of the competition, the shamans will lead the ritual to gather the magic of the sun's power to form the heavenly fire, and then the three fires will become one, which is the flame that symbolizes all life and glory.

The flame of glory that dispells the endless cold and brings life and prosperity has been the object of worship of the orcs since ancient times, and the customs inherited from the Wild Fang Empire are still followed by the orcs today.

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One night of the festival, after the main ceremony, the orcs pitched their tents in the wilderness, and near the middle of the assembly were vendors from various tribes to sell and exchange something.

Loren and Niya walked through the night market, watching the vendors sell artifacts, including bone flutes, lifelike wood carvings, quaint ox horn scimitars, and copper-patterned nameplates.

The plates have a variety of patterns, some of which are animals, some of which are of the sun, and some of which have text on them. Although many people think that orcs are barbaric, this impression is actually not accurate.

In ancient times, the orcs also had a glorious age, when they used a variety of fine bronze objects, had their own writing, and recorded many myths and legends. Many of these stories are still in circulation today.

For example, the life of the King of Fangs, the battle of the dragon, and even the legend of the war against the True Red Empire, they used to engrave these stories and legends on bronze objects, and the copper nameplate was also a status symbol.

"Hello, how do you sell this?" The blue-haired girl bent down and picked up an old bronze medal, and her glass-like eyes and beautiful face made the leopard-eared orc stay for a while before slowly getting used to it.

"Hello, this bronze medal sells for 2 gold coins." He cautiously quoted a high price.

"This one, it's a bit expensive." After speaking, the girl of the Sheephorn Clan next to her pulled the cyan ponytail on the side of Luo Lan, and it was impossible to tell if she was trying to remind the other party or simply wanted to touch the long silky hair.

As she has spent more time with Loren recently, Nia is not as restrained as she used to be, and occasionally fights with Loraine and grabs the end of her cyan hair.

"Okay, give." Luo Lan didn't bargain, but directly took out two transcendent gold coins.

"Good....... Well, thank you. Some people took the gold coin with some trepidation, and the leopard-eared young man hurriedly thanked him, he didn't expect the other party to be so generous, and the price was indeed a bit high.

"Nothing." Luo Lan shook his head slightly, and the cyan ponytail shook with it, and then took the bronze medal and looked at it carefully.

The corners of this mottled bronze medal are more worn, and there are many scratches, but the pattern drawn on the bronze medal can still be seen from the remaining lines. On the altar with the sun motif, there is a woman tied to a pillar of fire, surrounded by five priests, and a wandering humanoid apparition in the sky.

Due to the age of time, many of these details have become blurred, and only a small amount of text on the back can be known, which is probably the story of the middle of the Wild Fang Empire, because the priest's robe on the picture has the totem of the sun. After Kedalon established the Wild Fang Empire, the totems on the early priests and shamans were mostly fangs and beasts, and it was not until the middle and late stages that they transformed into flames and the sun.

"Does Loren like this?" Niya looked at the girl's thoughtful appearance and asked curiously.

"It's not like that, it's just that I'm more interested in the things described above." Loren turned his head to explain, and only then put away the bronze medal and continued on his way.

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the orcs, the sound of music came out ahead, and Lorain and Nia stepped forward to find a group of humans gathered there, some of them bards, some merchants, some travelers, and some hired guards.

The poet sits on the roof of the car, playing the Sitter in his hand, while his partner beats the snare drum and sings passionately. Surrounded by a group of humans and orcs who surrounded and admired. These humans had come to Gufia to trade, along with some bards, who had made money by singing at the Chamber of Commerce.

The song starts off soothingly, with the lively notes quieting the room and then turning to excitement as the beat progresses.

...

Release comes from the heart, from the cry of the heart

Then you will definitely start to be grateful

Hope scattered in this wonderful world

Inhale rivers, clouds, and dewdrops

Poke a small hole with your fingertips and plant a sapling

Let it sprout and thrive

The heart will be transformed into a forest

Don't forget your past self

Every day can be a new beginning for you

The beats of the middle and late stages of the song are extremely tight, with several companions constantly harmonizing and the accompanying strings pulling rapidly, giving the song a sense of power and tension.

Loren Hill was as attracted to the bards as the others, more like a small band than their solo counterparts, with a clear division of labor and better performances.

After the performance, the people around them applauded, even the orcs could not resist the charm of the music, and in this short music, they also temporarily forgot the difficulties of the present, as if returning to the distant past, that heyday era, the ancestors galloped through the vast world, chasing endless prey, and fought with pride and blood.

Unfettered, running freely in the wilderness, pursuing a happy battle between life and death, and a life of pride. This is the life that the orcs of the past yearn for the most.

Sadly, these purities and exhilarations have now been crushed by the hardships of life and have long been forgotten.

On the contrary, the poems that were once influenced by this style and customs were handed down, and after being introduced to the human realm, after hundreds of years, they were once again resounding in the ears of the orcs through the hands of human bards.

On a small bench on the outskirts of the performance venue, Lorain and Nia sat side by side, watching the steppe bards play and sing, singing story after legend.

Compared with the herdsmen in leather jackets around herdsmen, this girl with blue hair and white dress is so conspicuous that even sitting there quietly attracts the attention of the people around her.

The girl was so focused listening to the story in the song that she didn't notice it, and several hot-blooded young people wanted to go up and talk, but they couldn't bear to break the quiet scene.

It wasn't until the bards had finished singing the last ballad that the room burst into applause, and the orcs gathered around rushed forward, and just as the young men with blood and lust were about to open their mouths to invite the beautiful woman of the city, one of the bards came out and relieved the siege.

"Don't crowd in, everyone, this young lady is our special guest, and she will sing the last song for us."

As the words fell, the minstrel took the lead in applauding as the group of young men hesitated.

Loren Hill looked at the bard with a little confusion, looked around for a moment, and then nodded and stood up.

For a while, the applause was like thunder, as warm as the ocean, and the flowers with blue hair and white dresses appeared on the stage.