Compared to the noisy town of Boer, the Cold Iron Fort in the far north was much quieter, and he stood on top of the iceberg, like an old man at the end of the road, exuding a dead and turbid aura.

The bitter cold wind blew, and the banner erected on the castle seemed to be more shattered, and the white bear tore through the middle, and grew bigger and bigger.

On the ice-covered, frost-covered wall, the Count stood behind the female wall in his cloak, and the butler Ataquay still followed the Count like a shadow.

The Count kept staring at the banner fluttering in the wind, watching him break more and more in the cold wind, and break more and more, until the wound grew bigger and bigger, and was torn in half. The broken flag fluttered in the wind, flying higher and higher, farther and farther, until it disappeared under the snow curtain of the south.

"My lord, do you need someone to change the flag?" Ataquay also noticed this, and he spoke.

"No," said the Count, waving his hand. Like this flag, this may be the fate of the Renault family, even if he is tired now.

Today's Ice Castle can be said to be erected on top of the ice front, with no place to settle on both sides, as long as the orcs attack again, the Ice Castle will collapse in an uproar. When he broke through from the Cold Iron Fortress to the Cold Ice Castle, he still had thousands of soldiers and more than 300 knights under his command, but with the attacks of the orcs again and again, those who were killed in battle and those who were wounded could not be treated. The once crowded Cold Iron Fort was now empty, and the surviving soldiers and knights sat quietly around the corner, staring blankly at the sky, like prisoners waiting for execution, waiting for the sword.

The Count withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at the half-broken flag, and turned to look up at the sky. It was the sky of the Northlands, and it was so blue that the Count seemed to be able to see it even though it was covered with snow and mist. This is the sky of his hometown, and it is also the sky of his family, how blue and beautiful it is!

The cold wind was howling, and Ataqui tightened his collar and sighed as he looked up at the Earl looking up at the sky. He had served the Renault family for more than 40 years, and when he was young, he had gray hair. Watching the once powerful Renault family gradually die out, it is impossible to say that it is not uncomfortable, but what can he do? He knew that he was timid and afraid, and that the only one he could rely on was the Earl, but the Count seemed to have given up. That's right, the empire gave up the Renault family, and the nobles also gave up the Renault family, wouldn't the count be allowed to give up the Renault family? He thought.

"Ataquay," the Count shouted softly as he spoke suddenly.

"Yes, sir." Ataquay retracted his thoughts and hurriedly responded.

"You take your two daughters and three sons to the south." The Earl said, "The two of them are still young, and I wanted them to leave for the Kari family when reinforcements arrived, but I didn't expect the Kari family to break the covenant, so now I can only rely on you to bring them to the south." ”

"Lena and Rigan are both in the south, and if you escape, go to them, and don't come back," the Count commanded, with a sigh.

"My lord, I am your steward, and I should serve you." Atakoy spoke, his thin body shivering in the cold wind, and even though he was wearing thick clothes, the biting cold wind still seemed to penetrate his flesh. The Count's words were calm, but Ataquay knew that it was the Count's last wish, and the Count was ready to die.

He was very timid and afraid, even at the sight of a sharp blade, and the Count had laughed at him more than once in the past, and that he did not have the bravery and blood of the Northlanders. But this time he said this sentence tremblingly, he is the butler of the Renault family, and he is also the butler of the earl, maybe he does not have the bravery of a warrior, nor the fearlessness of the knights, but he is still a Northlander, and the Count said that he does not have the blood of the Northland.

The Count turned to look at Ataquay, his thin body shivering in the cold wind, his hands as delicate as a woman's in his clothes. He had laughed at him before, even the women, but now the Count felt that even though he trembled when he said this, he was indeed a real man, a true Northlander, compared to the nobles and knights who had fled.

Reaching out and patting Ataqui on the shoulder, he said, "Now the Renault family needs a knight who can fight, not a butler who is afraid to speak," he smiled, "And what needs you the most now are my children, they are still young, even the eldest second son, let alone Linna." Her actions are childish and excessive, and her thinking is also very immature. ”

"So it's them who need you the most now, although Sirigon is an old minister, he is only suitable for war, and he will kill himself if he is allowed to deal with those chores all day long. So they need you, and not here. The Earl turned around and held the female wall with both hands, and looked at the flag faintly visible in the snow curtain in the distance, which was the flag of the orcs: "You have no effect of staying here, at most, you will let those orcs have more wisps of blood on their hands, and the rise of the Renault family still needs your help." ”

Ataqui looked at the Count, but the Count did not look back, he continued to speak in a calm tone, as if he was going to say something that had nothing to do with him. But Ataqui can feel the loneliness and guilt from the earl's words, the blood and courage of the Renault family are deeply engraved in the blood of future generations, and seeing the destruction of the Renault family at hand, the earl's mood can be imagined.

But the Count was right, the Renaults still had children, and there was hope for revival, and that the roaring white bear banner would still be raised again in the mountains of the Northlands, and he would be a stepping stone in that long journey.

"Yes, Count...," Ataqui said in a dumb voice, wiping the moisture from the corners of his eyes.

The banner under the snow curtain was getting closer and closer, and the Count even heard the high roar of the orcs, "Let's go now, time is running out." The Count drew his sword, raised it with a roar, and roared, "Prepare to meet the enemy." ”

The warriors of the city ran up the walls in silence with their weapons in hand, even though they knew that they would probably never come down again after they went up this time, and their bodies would be buried in the snow of the Northlands, perhaps many years later, they would be dug up and eaten by hungry white wolves and bears, but they were not afraid.

This is the home of the Northlanders, and dirty orcs are not allowed to set foot here.

"Goodbye, Lord Count—" In the midst of the noise of footsteps, a faint voice seemed to appear.