After the wolves retreated, Mapula came out of the darkness.

The dwarf held a long, dark dagger in his hand. Although it is a dagger, it is no different from a long sword compared to the size of a dwarf. The gray-black leather armor was stained with some mud, and there were a few patches of moss and dead leaves hanging from his hair, and he looked slightly embarrassed.

"I didn't kill it. These were the first words the dwarf said when he returned. He added, "But it shouldn't live long." Mapra raised the dagger in his hand, returned to the campfire, and sat down.

The dwarf did not bother to explain what "it" meant, did not say anything about the dangers and difficulties encountered in the process, nor did he say how he managed to avoid the "dog's nose", let alone why "it" did not die but did not live long. He didn't say any details, but no one stepped forward to ask.

Barrett looked at the gnome sitting by the campfire, a man of few words. He thought, not good at words, not good at communicating.

Silence is not a disadvantage, but it is not a merit either, at least not for the adventurer profession. If an adventurer can't brag about killing a goblin and boast of fighting a dragon for 300 rounds, then he's not a qualified adventurer. But the Assassins didn't need to.

"The welcome was a day late, but it was much warmer than I expected. Old Will descended from the sky, dusted off the dust that didn't exist, and said with a smile, "Is this saying to us, 'Welcome to the Misty Forest'?"

"It's a pity that we didn't accept this kindness. Barrett was gathering the dead Winter Wolves together, "We didn't make it to the next dinner. ”

"Dinner, should we be 'food'?" the half-elf understood the implication of Barrett's words. "It's not a good welcome party. ”

"'Food' isn't a good role, but someone has to play it. Barrett replied.

"Then why are you called 'The Feeder?'" The half-elf quipped when he noticed that the brute didn't seem to be averse to his nickname.

"Because I'm not very good at playing the role of 'food', and I'm always playing it. Barrett replied lightly. But my companion was always good at it, he didn't say it.

The barbarian quickly peeled off some of the wolf skins that were still intact, and at the same time he was thinking in his heart. A full winter wolf skin should sell for three gold coins, maybe higher, but no more than five. But the fur with blemishes and scars on it is not even worth a gold coin.

Fur clothing like wolf skins is not actually in demand in the griffon kingdom, but it is still worth some money after all.

Wolf skin is not tough enough to make leather armor. Even the winter wolf skin is not as good as the double leather armor of cowhide tannin, so there is not much market among adventurers. The overall climate of the griffon kingdom is warm and humid, even in winter, it is not too cold, and the season of wearing fur clothing is very rare, so ordinary people will not buy it to protect themselves from the cold even if they have some spare money. Only the rich or aristocracy would buy it to fill their wardrobes.

In the northern part of the griffin kingdom, Nord used these furs, but in Nord's terrain with vast hills, mountains, and forests, wolves were innumerable.

Barrett could tell from the corpses which he had killed and which were the work of the half-elves and Old Will.

All the well-preserved winter wolf carcasses are from Barrett's sword, and all the perennial adventurer career allows him to subconsciously keep the prey of a higher value at the moment of his attack - as intact as possible fur, if the fur is worth money, complete internal organs or organs, if those internal organs are wanted, or the eyeballs of a certain creature can be sold for a large price, then Barrett will cherish its "yellow, orange and orange" eyeballs more than the creature himself when he kills it.

Barrett didn't need to do it deliberately, it was all a knee-jerk reaction. He didn't know how long the half-elves and old Will had been adventurers, and based on what he knew about the 'nasty novels', it wasn't too short, but they hadn't developed the good habits of Barrett.

Those shattered, scarred wolf corpses must have come from the hands of half-elves, this handsome "long ear" can strike several times in the blink of an eye, the red twin swords shine like thunder, his fighting style is more fierce than Barrett imagined, and it is not at all the same as those noble and elegant forest elves, but more like the style of the drow elves of the underground.

And the corpse under Old Will's spell is even more worthless. Oh, that's not exact, at least the uncharred parts of the corpse can be used for food.

"Food" is indeed not a good character, but neither the forest nor the adventurer can do without it.

As for the ogre, our strong Moglock didn't kill a single winter wolf, and only wounded two with a tower shield, but it protected Barrett and the half-elves well.

Of course, as a magical creature, the winter wolf has the spell-like ability to spit out freezing air once a day. This ability is due to the fact that there is a strange organ next to the stomach of the winter wolf, which is an additional growth of visceral tissue, which is actually similar to a tumor, but it can slowly store mana and release it according to a certain pattern.

Removing and obtaining this organ is a very delicate task, and even if it hurts even one apex, the whole organ is useless. The half-elf stood beside Barrett with a silver coin that had been cast "Illumination" so that he could find the small piece of valuable "loot" from a lump of blood and internal organs.

"Everend did all of these things before. The half-elf said suddenly.

"Erlund?, who is that?" Barrett asked casually, focusing all his attention on the corpse in front of him, carefully cutting a pale blue piece of flesh covered with strange patterns from the wolf corpse's chest cavity and placing it into a box next to it with a "loot preservation" spell attached to it. As long as the middle is not opened, it is guaranteed not to rot for a month.

"Loot Preservation" is a zero-ring spell that can be cast by even the most infrequent magic apprentices. It evolved from the spell of "organ preservation" by mages. This spell is usually enchanted with some utensils to store plants or organs that are more perishable. This enchanted "loot preservation" tool is not expensive, so it is very popular among adventurers.

The half-elf watched as Barrett managed to put the piece of meat into the box before he spoke, "Elend was once a member of our team, and he was also a Nord. ”

Barrett suddenly remembered the contents of those strange texts - one of the companions who had died before the Dirty Novel's team was also a Nord.

"Ever?" Barrett asked quietly, "what's wrong with this man?"

The half-elf didn't answer, and it wasn't until Barrett got up to look at him that he spoke, "Elend died, to save us." ”

When Barrett heard this, his heart couldn't help but tremble, and he suddenly had an inexplicable panic.

He didn't panic because of the death of this man named 'Erlund', the barbarian didn't know this adventurer from the same country as him, and he didn't care how Erlund could die for saving people, and he didn't care why the half-elf talked to him about it, he cared about the words.

Those words revealed some information in advance before he knew it, and those information were actually correct. What does that mean? Barrett doesn't know, who, or something, is delivering the news to him? Barrett doesn't know either, why such a strange thing is happening, and what is its purpose? He still doesn't know anything.

"What's wrong?" the half-elf asked, seeing that Barrit's face was a little bad.

"No, it's just a little tired, it's fine. Barrett disguised. Thinking wasn't something he was good at, and once again the brute put these complicated issues behind him and continued to collect loot.

The valuable loot was collected by Old Will into the Spatial Ring. There were six furs, nine magical organs, and the harvest was pretty good, and they had almost no losses.

"We should have left. Barrett thought. While it's not a good idea to walk at night, staying can be even worse. "The smell of blood here is too strong, and trouble may ensue. ”

......