The frostworm screamed in pain, its writhing body running over the snow bear's corpse, causing the latter's internal organs to burst and flesh scattered everywhere.

The bloody scene relieved Barrett's heart.

He didn't know how the dwarf Mapra quietly jumped on top of the frost worm's head, but the little guy did anyway. Although there was something wrong in the middle and he was almost discovered by the frost worm, it was only through Barrett's clever shouting that he helped him cover the past, but the dwarf's follow-up action was completed quickly, and it seemed that in an instant, he reached the top of the frost worm's head from the ground and stabbed the dagger into it.

In this way, the tribrato-making sarcoma on the top of the frost worm's head should not be used, Barrett thought to himself.

At this time, the taciturn dwarf did not escape from the frost worm's head in the first place, he still hung on it, and held his body in place with the dagger in his right hand that had pierced into the sarcoma.

The dwarf Mapula didn't seem happy with the damage he had done right now, or maybe he was embarrassed by something he had almost found out before, but his attacks continued anyway. The dwarf's left hand flickered in the air, and he grasped a strange dagger with a very different shape from the one in his right hand. He stabbed the dagger in his left hand into the frost worm's sarcoma again, pulled it out again, and stabbed it again, and the light blue blood splattered the dwarf's body.

The frostworm roared frantically, shaking its head repeatedly, trying to shake off the little creature that had hurt it above.

"Hey, it's our turn. Estelle said excitedly. Barrett saw the half-elf's eyes squint slightly, and the smile on the corner of his mouth seemed to be about to expand to the base of his ears, which made his handsome face slightly hideous.

The half-elf held the pair of elven swords covered with hollow patterns, and danced a beautiful sword flower with both hands. The pair of elven swords were thin and thin, with some vine-like openwork ornamentation, like works of art more than weapons, as if they would break with the slightest force, but Barrett knew that was not the case.

The elves made their weapons not so much forged as they "grown", a special craft that was passed down tens of thousands of years ago during the ancient elven civilization - when humans were still living in the corners of the continent.

The key to this craft lies in a special ritual. During the ceremony, the elves would channel the moonlight to a sufficiently large piece of Mithril on the altar of the Holy Land by chanting an ancient incantation.

Through the power of altars, spells, and moonlight, the Mithril will animate and will have certain biological properties. When activated, Mithril is shaped like a piece of jelly. When it comes time to forge a weapon, the elves will take a small portion of the jelly and place it on top of the metal to be minted, which can be dissolved by Mithril, or digested, but no one knows how that is done.

Over time, the metal, along with the 'jelly', will turn into a viscous metallic liquid. Although it is a metallic liquid, its temperature is cold, as cold as moonlight.

The elves would pour the liquid metal into a wooden mold made of oak and wait for it to be reduced to a solid state. The wait can be months, or even years, and the larger the metal that needs to be cast, the longer it will take. This is not a long time for elves, but it is one of the reasons why most elves like to use weapons as delicate as rapies.

This activation effect can only occur on a special metal like Mithril, and according to the elves, this is because Mithril has an indescribable connection to moonshine. The result is not only light and agile, but also extremely strong and resilient. What's even more amazing is that this weapon never needs to be sharpened, and can repair itself in the event of a small breakdown.

......

The half-elf leaped past the barbarian adventurer and rushed towards the frost worm at a rapid speed. Barrett glanced at Estelle's twin swords, and tightened the 'Iron Bride' in his hand.

You're a little stout, not a pretty girl, but to my liking, he thought to himself.

Barrett sheathed his weapon and did not rush to attack like a half-elf, but jogged while observing the frost worms and his surroundings. It's his habit - the more seemingly sure the fight, the more careful he must be to avoid mistakes.

There was a shaking sound behind him, and the ground seemed to tremble. Barrett didn't have to look back to know that it was a mobile fortress - the ogre Moglock had charged.

"For the great Barron mage!" the ogre shouted, and it brushed past Barrett with a landslide-like sound. Although there was only one person, Moglock's charging momentum was comparable to that of Nord's Knights of the Dragons.

Looks like the mage has trained you well, Barrett thought. More than once he had heard ogres chanting the mage's name during battle.

What will I fight for?? The barbarian adventurer thought to himself, for the sake of Ragnar IV, the current king of the Nords? No, my father had been his personal bodyguard, but he had nothing to do with me, for my father's sake? no, he didn't need anyone to fight for him, and if there was a fight, he would rather fight himself, for the sake of the red-haired 'queen'? no, she probably preferred to hang me on the gallows now.

For the gold coins!" Barrett shouted silently in his heart, and slowly rushed over.

After all, the dwarf was thrown off his head by the frost worm, but his landing was like a feather, light and steady, and he only flipped backwards lightly twice, and then removed all the inertia.

As soon as the half-elf got close to the frost insect's body of about ten meters, it had already opened countless wounds on the frost insect's body with both hands. But the frost worm couldn't take care of him at this time, and could only keep twisting his body to dodge the half-elf's seemingly withstanding attack.

Because the frostworm has something more worthy of its attention in front of it—the ogre's landslide-like charge is getting closer. The frostbug hissed, seemingly deciding to deal with the biggest and probably most threatening guy first.

It straightened its upper body high, then spread its massive claws and lunged at the ogre, wielding it in two as if it were killing a snow bear.

After the collision of gold and iron, both the ogre and the frost worm stopped. The ogre used the 'giant bone' in his left hand to block the frost worm's attack, and the thick rectangular tower shield was stuck between a pair of pincer jaws, and no matter how hard the frost worm tried, it could not close.

Moglock slammed the 'skull' of his right hand into the jaws of the pincers, making a sound of gold and iron hitting each other, and it was obvious that the frost worm's pair of 'big teeth' were also very good.

Seeing that its jaw attack wasn't working as well as it should, the frostworm gave up on trying to split the ogre in two and straightened up again, as if something was brewing.

"Beware of spitting attacks. Barrett shouted at the right time. The next moment, a cone-shaped cold gas nearly ten meters long was spit out by the frost worm.

The frost worm's spitting attack is very powerful, much more powerful than the winter wolf's, which spits out only a small cloud of cold mist, while the frost worm's cold spit is like a dragon's breath, not only stronger in the cold, but also lasts for several seconds.

The spitting attack was blocked by the ogre's tower shield, but even so, Moglock's protective magic lit up for a brief time of two heartbeats before dimming.

But then, the multicolored protective magic came back to light, and it was apparently that Old Will had cast a new layer of spell on the ogre again.

The newly added protective magic immediately dimmed again, but the frostworm's spitting attack had ended.

The amount of spewing out seems to be a big burden even for the frost insects in the misty forest. Barrett thought with some malice in his heart.

He found that the frost worm in front of him was obviously much more depressed than before. Not only was the writhing and moving very weak, but even the screaming was much lower, and even the continuous attacks of the gnome on the sarcoma on the top of its head did not make it so unbearable. Obviously, this powerful spit attack is also a double-edged sword, and if it can't effectively damage the enemy, it will be a burden on one's body.

It seems that it should be nine times out of ten, and Barrett estimates the situation of the battle. Holding his 'Iron Bride' tightly, he turned to the side of the frostworm's body and stabbed it with a sword.

......