No one knew who lit the fire, but we could see a cloud of smoke from afar. Baidu search literature network, more good free reading.

Winter's Claws drove our tribe to the north. The Northland was desolate, and on the first night, even the War Mother Olgavana couldn't help but tremble. By the second night, Ernuk had all died, and at least the third day's dinner was gone.

By the time we started to climb this half of the mountain that was not called "Old Orn." Our shaman is delirious, but Olgavana forced us to carry this fool with us all the time. Because the War Mother believes what he says, the key to whether we can survive or not lies under the mysterious green smoke. With the exception of Olgavana, everyone else felt that we were on the road to death.

The hillside is strewn with black stones, scarred as far as the eye can see. We found a labyrinth of charred foundations, the remains of a small city, but not recorded on any map. Corick hung on Bernarin's shoulder, and swore that this place used to be called Furnace Country.

The clouds in the east showed lightning, and the wind carried the stench of wet fur and the fishy sweetness of fermentation. None of the scouts sent out returned. Everyone knew it, but no one wanted to shout that word out loud: bear people.

We climbed all the way up until we were on the edge of a huge crater. After that, Corick saw the fire. This is strange because Corick not only has no legs, but also no eyes.

In the center of the crater basin, a cloud of green smoke rises into the sky. Olgavana reassured everyone that at least the steep mountain walls around the basin were a good shelter from the wind. So we started to climb down. Maybe they're crawling into their own grave. The steaming ground is hard to walk, but the slightest pause can mean death.

Then we saw the furnace. The circular dome on the outside of the furnace is the only thing that appears to have been made by hand. The hearth itself is shaped like a huge ram's head, with a handful of goat grass growing between the stone slabs. The ram has a fire in its mouth, so bright that we can see it even with our eyes closed.

We huddled around the fire to keep warm, and listened to Olgavana's plan to fight back desperately, and it was better to die standing than to huddle in the cold wind and shiver. Baidu search literature network, more good free reading. Most of us are farmers, craftsmen, or repairmen, not as warlike as other tribes. We take care of the elderly, children and the sick. At the moment, the people of Alvarosa are far away and cannot help, but the war is only eager for a feast of flesh and bones.

Although we have a small chance of winning against Winterclaw, at least we still have a chance. But if the bears attack first, our resistance will be completely futile. Those ugly half-bear monsters will eat us up.

In the blink of an eye, their battle cries grew louder and louder, accompanied by the sound of rumbling footsteps. The smell of the smell becomes more intense. Hundreds of bears rushed down the valley, like a dark shadow spread out on the basalt on the hillside. We dismantled the stretcher to make a spear, and sharpened the knife for carving on the flint. The old and wounded will rest in peace in the ritual of the sheep spirit, while the rest of the people will dance with the wolf spirit until death. When dawn falls, it will all be over.

No one saw who had picked the fire, but the flame was so hot that we couldn't help but retreat. Then, the furnace spoke, and the sound was like crackling wood.

"Voliber is here, hide." It says.

"There's nowhere to hide." Olgavana said to the flames in the hearth. We don't know who we're meeting in person. "The enemy is coming. The bears are surrounding us. ”

"The bears can stop it. You can solve the rest of the problem yourself. The furnace got hotter and hotter as the voice spoke. The goat grass caught fire, and the edges of the spliced slabs glowed red, gradually turning into a red-hot all over the body. Vapor hissed from the crevices.

The temperature keeps rising. Some people took off their clothes to take a break, and some simply passed out. Another wave of heat rolled in, and we all fell to our knees and gasped for breath with difficulty. "I didn't expect to see this day," Corick cried out with joy.

The stone melted like ash, and the supporting structure slowly flowed onto the base. The dome of the furnace caved inward, forming a cauldron around the edges.

An orange light pierces us from opening our eyes, but faintly sets off the outline of a human figure. A fountain of flames rushed into the air, and the molten rubble rained down, cooling and hardening on the ground at our feet. The majestic furnace had been transformed into a hulking beast, its silhouette shadowed in the steaming heat, as tall as three pine trees. That's right, this is the long-forgotten legendary Aoun that Corick often talks about. The ancient craftsman quickly cooled down, revealing his fur and body. Lava trickled from the side of his cheek and turned into a tied beard. His eyes were a pair of blazing flames, a hammer in one hand, and an anvil in the other. It looks like it's easy with both hands.

We gathered behind Orgavana, the Mother of War. Holding the falling axe made of Zhen Ice, she approached Orn. "If the bears are your enemies, we will fight with you." After she finished speaking, she made a gesture that was extremely inconsistent with her status as an Iceborn: she was half-kneeling and placed her weapon at Orn's feet. The Falling Axe's ice melted, revealing a normal axe made of brass and iron.

I've never seen ice melt. No one has ever seen it. We knelt down like Olgavana.

Orn grunted, "Stand up." Kneel and die. He looked at the thunderstorm that was swirling overhead, and said, "I'll deal with the bear people." Don't follow me. ”

He shuffled his way towards the raging Bearren tribe. We could almost all see the fire reflected in his big eyes. Beralin lifted the old shaman on his shoulders a little higher. "Old Orn swung his hammer, and he smashed the mountain into a trough." The legless old fool said as if he were singing.

We watched as he faced the Bear-People alone, and fell silent in shock. With a loud roar, Orn slammed his hammer into the ground, struck a furrow and charged at the enemy, stopping in front of the strikers. Sulfur and lava spewed into the air, and clumps of fire slammed into the bears.

Regardless of who Orn is divine, his true weapon is the blood of the earth.

Huge molten slag bursts out of the ground behind the bears, blocking their way out. Orn rushed into the crowd of bears, hammer in his hand flying up and down, smashing in all directions. However, they continued to attack like madmen, ferocious and violent, each with ten berserkers combined.

However, Orn rushed through the entire force and reached the rear of the bearmen. Because we all heard a deafening explosion, and the walls of molten slag collapsed. The bears were shaken and flew out, scorching in crooked arcs with charred flesh and fur.

The dust covered the sky, the pillars of smoke reached the thunderclouds, and the electric light pierced back and forth in the clouds. However, the world suddenly and strangely fell into a standstill, and the giant bear who had received the "ten thousand swords and guns" appeared in person. What we saw was a veritable figure: spears, steel swords, and fangs, all pierced in its back. Lightning fell on its footprints.

It's laughing.

A loud horn shook us to pieces. Lava flowed from the black cliffs, and a network of rivers that were scattered into flames rushed down the slopes of the mountains, rushing towards the basin of the valley. Lightning struck the cliff face, ablating the torn rock. A pungent fog enveloped the entire mouth of the pit. The smoke was steaming, and all we could see was blue and white electricity and a hellish scarlet fire. The heat of the ground scorched the soles of our shoes.

Then we see the burst of flames gathered into a sturdy ram that must be furious. Orn rushed towards the lava-tumbling beast, carrying the bear he called Volibel on his shoulder.

The force of the impact knocked us all over. The legless shaman was thrown sideways from Beralin's shoulder, laughing and flying hundreds of paces away.

We waited all night in a state of anxiety, worried about the cataclysm. But not at all. All we heard was the roar of the Mighty Bear with a Thousand Blades, and the rough roar of the Forge Ram, echoing through the night.

As the morning cleared, we saw the surrounding hillsides covered with smoking rubble and cracked basalt columns with canine teeth.

By the time we realized what was in front of us, we all took a few steps back in shock and fear. The bears turned into stone statues, and their faces were frozen with expressions of extreme pain.

We didn't see any trace of Orn, and neither did Volibel. But we don't have time to look for it. The hunting horn of Winterclaw's ears is near. We picked up our weapons and stood firm. Although the clothes on our bodies were only strips of rags after the smoke and fire, our bodies no longer felt cold.

Olgavana's hair was burned by the flames, and her muscular back was covered with burning scars. The axe that was once wrapped in ice is now as unclothed as we are, with only brass and iron in its original form. I've never seen her so strong.