At night, I found an abandoned watchtower in the wilderness as a place to stay, and by the light of the illumination spell, I read the journal that Krako had left behind.

"In my dreams, I saw that all the Heralds from Isgeramo onwards would return to Shure until Tifig appeared. The man who had introduced us to the beast nature tried to enter Songard, but a big bad wolf dragged him into the hunting grounds, where Helsin extended his passionate arms to him. Tifig looked regretful, but he had become accustomed to living like a beast all his life, and it wasn't bad for him to join Helsin's ranks. Beginning with him, the pioneers who followed fell into the hunting grounds of Helsing, until the last one remained. ”

"On the blurred horizon, the guardians of the Whalebone Bridge waved to me; On the other side, Hersin's big bad wolf gritted his teeth at me. Just when I was helpless, a stranger suddenly appeared behind me. No, I know him, he was the one who finished the dragon with his roar that day in the Western Tower. I was greatly encouraged by his presence, and together we raised our arms. ”

"It's just a dream, but the wild blood that has haunted me for years makes this dream so meaningful that I need to put pen to paper to record it."

……

The movement outside the watchtower caught my attention. I closed my journal and walked out the door, waiting for a few visitors.

I've seen many similar lineups, such as three Imperial soldiers escorting Stormcloak captives. But I'm in the realm of the Storm Cloak now, and the identities of these people need to be further confirmed.

The bald prisoner with his hands tied and twine didn't wear the blue uniform of the Storm Cloak, but I think he should have some connection to the Storm Cloak. This group of people is traveling in the opposite direction to mine, which means that their destination should be within the jurisdiction of the Empire. I have no overflowing sympathy, and I have no intention of getting involved in the conflict between the two sides at this time, so I will not come out to fight for this captive. What I care about is the unique attire of the three escorts.

The leader was dressed in a dark mage robe trimmed with gold trim, and I couldn't make out his hooded face, but his arrogant posture and demeanor couldn't hide it. The two soldiers with him were dressed in golden armor made of moonstone, the kind of ore I've seen in the Sky Forge that was light and strong, but it was scarce in the Skyrim Province.

The mage motioned for two of his men to stay where they were, and walked towards me alone.

"Brightons? Are you from the Dyrennie family? ”

I didn't care about the aggressive interrogatorial tone, because the language used by the other party had already stunned me. It took me a moment to come back to my senses, and I quickly remembered the knowledge I had gained through the exchange, and replied in Elven before he showed impatience.

"Yes. But I'm not part of the Dyrennie family. ”

I'm an imposter from Brighton and I don't know any of the Dyrennies. And out of life experience, even if I really have something to do with that family, I can't say it, God knows if the guy in front of me will have a grudge against the Dyrrenny family, or it's better to get into less trouble.

It's just that my little cleverness didn't bring the desired results. When they heard me say "yes" in Elfish, the other person's expression softened a little; But then after I clarified my identity and put aside my relationship with the Dyrenny family, the other party's face turned gloomy.

"Play with what's left."

With that, the other party completely ignored my existence and walked straight into the watchtower.

The other party's disdainful eyes and tone of voice baffled me. This guy makes me very unhappy, but I'm not a bad temper, and I won't be scolded by others and take his life.

Anyway, count me unlucky. So I followed him back to the watchtower, picked up the witch and prepared to leave—I didn't want to spend the night with a psychotic.

"Wait...... Wait, you're carrying ...... What is it? ”

As soon as I stepped out of the watchtower, he stopped me from behind. Unlike the swagger just now, this guy is now stammering and his voice is shaking violently.

I don't really care about the strange changes that happened to the other person, anyway, I have already defined him as a neurotic, and it is not surprising that he shows any symptoms. However, his questioning made me a little intrigued, and I subconsciously put my hand behind my back.

It's still a familiar metallic texture, and the witch on my back hasn't turned into anything else weird.

"It's ......"

I turned around and was about to answer, only to find this guy staring at the witch in my hand, his eyes full of fear. Not...... I understand.

"Do you know Isgramer? Do you know his legendary weapon, the Witch Slacd? It is said that this axe has killed countless elves. I took the witch off and put the blade in front of him, laughing in a playful tone, "Keep your eyes peeled and take a closer look, this is a very precious artifact, and if you miss it today, you will never see it again." ”

"Ah!!h

I nimbly dodged one of his ice guns and circled the side of the watchtower. This guy can't afford to joke like that? Or did the witch slad slash too many elves, and the killing intent on them had condensed enough to make the spirits tremble?

This guy seems to have been really stimulated by Witch Slade. He roared hysterically and rushed out of the watchtower, and the colorful bells and whistles of spells were thrown in my direction.

Instead of fighting the menacing elven mage, I played a game of chase with him around the watchtower. The mage's fitness was still a little worse after all, and despite his hard work, he was still a full half lap away from me.

Although this guy was very emotional, he didn't forget the use of magic. He didn't forget to throw magic traps all the way to the ground while running. Luckily, I also had an understanding of magic, and I was able to dispel the imprints he left behind that contained the energy of destruction, so I didn't get hit.

The frenzied spellcasting method didn't last long, and after a few laps of chase, the elven mage's physical strength was exhausted, and he sat on the ground panting, the horror in his heart still written on his face, but the excitement was gone. Seeing me walk out of the other side of the watchtower, he raised his right hand tremblingly to cast his magic again, but with a single axe I smashed the flying ice slag to pieces.

It's not like a fight at all, it's just a joke. Thanks to the witch in my hands, I might not have been able to do much good against a mage in his right mind. I don't know how many elves he killed with this axe when Isgramer led five hundred warriors to take revenge, and judging from the fact that the entire Skyrim Province has become home to the Nords, this number must be quite terrifying.

I was leaning against the wall of the watchtower, and was about to tease him a few words, when something important suddenly occurred to me.

This guy has two more men.

The potential crisis immediately sent my body into a tense state, and without a second thought, I subconsciously lifted the witch and slashed it out.

"Qiang !!"

A sharp blade sank deep into the stony floor, and a loud tremor woke me up.

Good fellow, not to mention the rocks and mud, I didn't break it even after I slashed with the full force of the witch slade. Moreover, the owner of the blade seems to be an experienced man, and with the help of the stony floor, the opponent only spent half the strength of mine in this block.

I took a few steps back to distance myself from the other man, holding Witch Slade across my chest and holding my breath. Then it's time to face the real battle.