He spun in the air and tried again to stop his fall, digging the ice axe into the ice, but the ice axe was out of his hand, and if it wasn't for the wrist straps tied together, the ice axe would have been lost.

When death comes, do not shrink back from it.

He fell forty feet and sped past Oral. His predecessor's flint-like eyes widened.

We are born of ice and return to ice.

"Hold on!" The aged Iceborn warrior roared as he grabbed his ice axe and bent his knees.

He saw Hala look up, and her mouth was a curse as she realized that he was about to fall right on her head. She immediately slashed the ice axe into the ice with quick and steady speed, diverting to the side so that he didn't knock her off the cliff.

Then he was caught in the rope, and the sudden pause left his bones falling apart. He slammed into the ice wall, the air in his lungs crushed with a violent impact.

Oral roared and ate Sigvar's weight. However, Stone Fist's hands were firmly clenched and firmly grasped on the ice, and his hands were as hard as iron.

Sigvar quickly regained his stance and immediately smashed the ice axe into the wall, kicking the toe deep into it. He glanced up at Hala Ice, who was glaring at him, soul-piercing eyes—one blue, one gray—as unblinking as the one drawn on her forehead.

Her eyes were silently judging.

"We're resting at the Bridge of Shadows," she finally spoke, and continued to climb down into the twilight darkness. Sigvar cursed himself, his cheeks hot in the cold wind.

As Oral passed him, he smiled at him with a row of teeth.

"You're a little bastard, you're a half-barreled arrow," he said. "Damn, I almost took it with me."

"The ice is falling off," Sigvar's voice was faint. "I'll do better."

"Yes. Maybe I'll cut your rope next time. ”

Sigvar looked at the old warrior with a puzzled look. Oral's previous three expeditions to the Abyss had all come back alone. Is that why?

Once at the Bridge of Shadows, they unloaded their bags, untied their ropes, and turned back into their ice axes. It is called the Bridge of Shadows because even in the middle of summer, when the sun never sets the horizon, the sun never sees sunlight here.

Oral lay down on the stone slab, stretched exaggeratedly, and leaned against the railing by the bridge. Hala left the two men, plucked a small black statue from her neck, and placed it on the ground. She knelt in front of the statue and took a deep breath reverently. Sigvar stood there like a stake, wondering if he should use this time to pray as well, but Oral beckoned him over and urged him to sit down.

He didn't know how much older he was, but Oral must have been over sixty years old - he had somehow conjured up a little skin. Unscrewed the stopper, took a big gulp, let out a long sigh of satisfaction, and handed it to Sigvar. The young warrior nodded in thanks, and as a result, he threw his head back and took a sip.

"Tears of God," Oral said. "I'm the only one on this side of the Ridge Mountain."

The elixir burned his throat and made his eyes moist. The overflowing tears immediately froze to ice on his face. He nodded in approval, then returned the bag to Oral, who took another gulp before hiding it back in his fur shoulder.

If it's a hydration bag, it will freeze when they step through the main fort gate. They didn't have to drink water, but the spirits were the moisturizer that Sigwa's throat couldn't ask for.

Oral still had his tattooed arms outside, and Sigvar shook his head and wrapped his fur clothes a little tighter.

"Aren't you cold, old fellow?" He said.

"It's cold in the back, kid," Oral grinned maliciously. "Compared to the cold that is coming, it is simply a warm summer breeze."

Sigvar didn't know if he was joking. He moved his bag to the side, took out a small strip of cured meat, opened the waxed skin, broke off a piece of frozen hard, handed it to Oral, and then broke another piece himself. He took it in his mouth, thawing it to the point where he could chew it. The meat is coarse and hard, but at the moment it is a luxurious taste.

Sigvar also sat next to Oral against the low wall of the stone bridge, avoiding the bitter wind that howled, though it was a blessing in itself. The wind howled over their heads, howling in terror and sweeping the mess of snow across the bridge. Some say that the rumors are the screams of the thousands of Iceborn who died in the final battle, whose souls have been trapped in this deep valley forever since the ancient heroic age.

"It's scary, isn't it, little ghost?" Olar said. "It's going to come to your head after a while."

"Is it like this all the way?"

Oral shook his head. "It's fine. No, it's as quiet as a cemetery when it's almost finished. ”

"That's definitely better than that......"

"Of course you think so, don't you? But the silence is even worse. The silence, the silence. It's as heavy as a chain mail that makes you put on your whole body. No, I've always chosen to be like this. ”

Hala finished her prayer and returned to the two of them, and sat down next to Oroar. She took a long sip of Oral's skin, then wiped her mouth with the back of her glove.

"Why do you always have the finest goods, Stonefist?" Her words made Orar snort.

"It must be because of my charm," he replied.

"I can fully deny that." She said with a blank face, and Oral snorted again.

Sigvar leaned over and trembled and offered her a piece of meat, still ashamed of his fall. She looked at it for a moment, making Sigwa think she was going to reject his kindness, but she finally took it and nodded in thanks.

"How did you earn your name, Half-Barreled Arrow?" She asked, chewing.

"An attack. I was a novice at the time, escorting a convoy to the main fort to deliver supplies. We were attacked on an open ice field. A blizzard obscured their approach. Raven tribe. ”

Hala muttered. "Sinister warriors. Beheading. ”

Sigvar nodded. "I ate a few arrows in the melee. But keep fighting. When the last of the Tooth Raven tribe fled, and the rest were dying or dead on the ice, Stonefist gave me my current name,"

"You're not going to learn to tell stories in your life, boy," Oral said. "Half the story. I don't know how to create an atmosphere at all. ”

"Not like you, old fellow," Hala said. "I swear your story is more outrageous every time it is told than the last."

"Did I tell you my story about bears, imp?" Oral squeezed his eyes and asked Sigvar.

"Don't," Hala said, holding up a finger at the Frostguard senior. "I don't want to hear it again."

"Next time, then," Oral shrugged helplessly. "However, the man of the toothed crow planted at least a dozen arrows in this young man. At that time, you, how many, fourteen winters? He was already a big man at the time. Although it hasn't grown into the big man it is now, it's still strong. He had four arrows stuck in his shield, two in one leg and one across his forearm. Two on the chest, one on the shoulder, and more on the back. But he kept playing until the end, like a stuck Eruk. He struck three crow-toothed men, then hit another arrow and threw away the sword in his hand. But he didn't stop. He pulled an arrow from himself and used it to kill two more toothed ravens! This egg is the happiest thing I've ever seen! Pure Ice Descent. It's enough to make Serilda himself proud. ”

"Dreadnought," Hala said immediately, grabbing Serelda's pale amulet, which hung around her neck along with Avarosa and Lisandro's.

"Dreadnought," Sigvar whispered. His cheeks burned and he lowered his head, Oral making him uncomfortable with his words of praise.

"Your sense of humor is weird, Stonefist." Hala said and stood up. "Come on. It's time to continue. ”

"I'm sorry I just fell," Sigvar said, as he got up for the next climb. "I swear that I will not let you down again."

"If you fall, it's the will of the three sisters," Hala said. "If you fall and take us down with you, that's our fate. Your oath doesn't matter. ”

She passed him, her eyes searching for the best place to start. Oral laughed and slapped Sigvar the shoulder.

"It's all right, little ghost," he said. "The strongest Ice Breed also has times when they stumble, and if this is the most dangerous difficulty, we will bow down and thank the three sisters."

They continued to descend into the abyss, and the oppressive cold wind pursued them with its howl as always.