On the other side of the sea, there are treasures of the Nords, and the bones of the Nords are buried. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 info -- "Wolf's Notes".

For a long time, Wolf was plagued by the question: Was it really a mistake to be a Norder?

His father had obviously given him a very sturdy iron rice bowl -- a small priest in a village, whose only job every day was to eat and drink under the banner of the great god Odin -- don't think that this is an easy task, to be able to blow a cowhide for a day and a night in front of many simple villagers, and the face of the big radish is not red or white, it is really a test of a sacrificial skill. Because most of the time, a dignified pig will also stop eating out of shame, but the flickering of Wolfe's family ...... For 100 years and 6 generations, it has not stopped.

In Greenland, the sharp axes and Germanic swords drew countless terrible and deadly blades in the hands of the Nord warriors, and many people struggled with hunger and pain, but Wolf could still turn two pages of ancient books when he was full. No matter which murderous warrior is in front of him, no matter how disdainful they are in their hearts, they must bow their proud heads to show respect for Odin.

Sometimes, when Wolf was full, he would make a gesture to Odin: "You stupid ×! If you really exist, come and see what your lovely little priest is eating? Yes, it's your sacrifice! You have the ability to cut me down with a thunderbolt!"

Fortunately, Wolf did not drink, otherwise if the pious villagers had heard these words, how much they had believed and loved this sixteen-year-old young man in the past, and how much they would now want to strangle this magic stick, perhaps remembering what his father and ancestors had done, and digging out all his immediate family from the graveyard to "practice". Don't think the Nords are so joking, or they wouldn't be so brainless about Calradia being full of milk and gold.

In fact, Wolf is objectively very smart and very healthy. But the funny thing is that he will neither use the tall noble Germanic sword, nor the Nord battle axe, which is suitable for all ages. The spear and shield were even more miserable in Wolff's hands, and according to some people's tricks, they were like a bear in a circus playing with a ball. If it weren't for God's joke, he would have been one of the best scholars at the University of Poravon in Swadia, but fate is that he likes to play anachronistic jokes with people: Wolfe's ancestors have never left the village of Blackcurrant where he lives for eighteen generations, and he is a pure-bred and pure Nord from this semi-civilized people who have been ridiculed by other peoples as "savage pigs" behind their backs. According to common sense, in this society of "Odin Boss and Fist Boss 2", Wolf should spend the rest of his life holding a book and nibbling on unpalatable Nord bread, until one day he flickered and died at home.

But no one is destined to live a meaningless life, the real opportunity is that when the wind and waves come, do you choose to continue to stick your head in the dung heap as an ostrich, or raise the broken sail, and have a good gamble with the hammer god Thor!

It's not that Wolf will be of any interest, it's just that his family has been sticking their heads in the dung heap for a hundred years, and it seems that they have become accustomed to it. Wolf didn't seem to have any intention of breaking this record, and the discerning people in the village also saw that there was always a group of old and sophisticated guys calling Wolf "unproductive" behind his back, and slowly this spread to the whole village and became Wolf's code name. The swaggering Nord women would shout at their children in a very loud voice: "Go! Put this salted fish at the door of the 'unproductive' house! Let him offer us the god Odin!"

If you think it's a shame, go out to sea as a pirate as soon as possible, because it's even worse: a bunch of bear children blocked Wolf's door, and the two most common words were: "It's not good, summon a dragon for us!" and "It's not good! Why are you so unproductive?"

In fact, if it weren't for that afternoon, Wolf might have continued to be so unproductive.

Dividing Line***************************

The Nord homeland will always have only two seasons: one is winter, and the other is very winter-like. So even in the afternoon, the air is so cool. Wolf tossed back and forth in his tool room, the dog's tail grass growing in the muddy field, and the mud covered the deep pit of the thatched house, so that Wolf, who was actually only about 1.7 meters long, hit his head many times - almost no Nord could walk here unhindered - and some people joked that if Wolf had a daughter-in-law, eighty percent would not be able to get in.

"Damn, this roof is really vicious, I'm obviously very short!" Wolf muttered as he groped his way around the platform, "Why didn't the old man tell me before he died that only he could enter this house?"

Greenland's climate is actually very unsuitable for thatched huts, except for some mad lords, most landlords will still be quite "benevolent" to build wooden houses for their serfs, not because they have any ambition to take the world as their own responsibility, but there is really no shortage of people who freeze to death on Greenland. Although the tenant farmer and the serf were not considered human beings in their eyes, they were also big animals, and who would farm for them if they froze to death? So Wolf did not need to be occupied by the homeless man in his own tool shed—if there really was a homeless man who dared to live and did not freeze to death for a night, and was not squeezed to death by this hut, he should be sent to him.

Wolf is looking for a magical thing in this little world of his own, a crucible, to cook a sticky paste made of stinky beans that dogs don't want to eat, and to help the village men mend their shields. That's a lot of revenue generation. After all, even the oracle of the god Odin mentions: "The Nords need the power of the shield to claim land." When it came time to expel the natives of northern Greenland, all they had to do was lay up the shield wall, push it up with a shield the size of a pot, and knock the uncivilized unlucky ones to the ground and crush them to death.

So, for a Nord warrior, the shield is both a partner and a guy to eat. Using Wolff's special paste to cover the shield skin, according to his own words, the shield is as strong and elastic as a vine, and it is more effective in sliding away spears and tomahawk swords. At the same time, Odin also gave Wolf a pair of delicate hands, and the family crest and livery painted on his shield were as vivid as if they were hung on a flag.

Of course, the goods are good - he is right, but he really does not use a shield himself: as soon as he gathers the shield above his head, he will fall nervously. So much so that years later, Wolf was still shaking his legs and staggering when he stood under the walls of Živatze, and the Vykia marksman on the tower could not aim at all. According to his father's accurate judgment of his son: "Wolfe, a first-rate scholar, a second-rate businessman, a third-rate politician, and an unpopular samurai." ”

He dragged the crucible out into the yard and set it up on the pot table, and a bunch of little heads tiptoed curiously outside the fence as Wolf poured water into the pot with a pained expression.

The little heads thought they were chattering quietly, "What do you say, what is he doing?"

"Uh-huh, I guess he's cooking frogs and bats!" said Bear Child A.

Bear Child B took over: "Well, it should be summoning elves or something!"

Bear Child C said disdainfully, "Can it be normal?

When the bear children saw that he looked confident, they asked, "What do you mean he's summoning?" Jack, tell me quickly!"

Jack scratched the non-existent beard on his chin very gracefully, and said in his old man's tone......, "You remember! Dragon!" "Dragon?" the children squeaked and screamed, making Wolf think for a moment that he was in front of his house with a flock of ducks with their tails chopped off. "Jack, this is terrible!"

"But why would Wolf do this?" However, not all children are so ignorant, and a boy immediately reflects the potential to be difficult to fool. "What's in it for him?"

At first, Wolf laughed when he heard this, but the next sentence made him feel the deep malice of the world: "You see, if he has no relatives, no daughter-in-law, and no friends, what does it matter to him whether the village will be ruined or not? As for the benefits...... Dragon, I will thank Wolf for letting him out with a lot of gold coins!"

"That's right! he's terrible!" Wolf smiled wickedly at the bear children in a wicked laugh, and shouted out of the fence in disguise, "Ah, messenger from hell, do you know if you are satisfied with the virgins I have offered you?"

The bear children were shocked: "Wolf, who are you talking to?"

Wolf gave them a blank look: "Call me Mr. Priest!"

In order to clear up their confusion, the bear children cried out, "Mr. Priest, please, tell us!

"What?" asked Wolfe, feigned surprise, "don't you see the uncle in the black robe with the red tongue?"

Then he nodded to the bear children with great certainty: "That's right, it's right behind you!"

Bear children, look at me, I look at you, suddenly there was a collective burst of coaxing, wow wow crying birds scattered, especially Bill cried the loudest and fastest run: "Wow~~~~~~! Wolf, Wolf has summoned the demon who loves to eat children again!"

(Please use this trick with caution, eighty percent of the bear children you want to intimidate are not as intimidated as Nord bear children)

"It's finally quiet!" Wolf sighed, a strange Nord who had never liked to have too much contact with the outside world. In a sense, Wolf is a man who lives most of his life in his own world. His friends only have chests full of books and strange tools. The treasures in the box came from the Karad Empire (the old dynasty of Svadia), Salander, Kugit, and further to the East, and it was said that some powerful dynasty was founded by people who ate with chopsticks. Books cover crafts, military affairs, literature, politics, commerce and trade, and everything is included. All from a hundred years of Wolf's ancestors hand-translated, countless nights, lonely people under the lonely lamp letter by letter, spending a lot of money to hire translators, repeatedly pondering what the meaning of those words that the ghost does not know.

It's not for anything, it's just that books have become the only hobby they can choose, and if Wolf wants to write a biography of his family, it should be called "One Hundred Years of Solitude".

Wolfe's family is a single lineage, they are all extremely intelligent, and they will not starve to death when they take out the contents of the box. Including Wolfe's father, the seemingly useless little old man, who married the most coveted girl in the village with three thousand dinars, a bag full of money. They said that when the old man poured the bag of gold coins at the feet of the contemptuous old man, the whole village was shocked. That should be the most glorious moment of this little old man who has drawn a circle around Blackcurrant Village all his life.

Mother Wolf threw stinky beans into the pot and meditated, the word was completely foreign to him. The father said that his mother hated him to death, insulted her youth with money, and closed his eyes and died after giving birth to Wolfe. "What Nordic woman doesn't love warriors who kill people without blinking? From then on, my father stopped reading books, but went to see the waves when he had time.

When he was a child, Wolf could only nod his head in confusion and confusion, and when he grew up, he realized that he was feminine in appearance and tall (average 1.9 Wolf 1.73) among the Nords, and no girl had ever secretly looked at him with gentle eyes. They prefer muscular teenagers who have to use their toes for addition, subtraction, multiplication and division within ten, and even if they occupy her belt on the barren meadow, they don't admit it, and they are still sought after by countless women.

"Maybe I'll have to rely on the previous heirloom to inherit the lineage!" Wolf huffed and tapped the beans in the pot with a stick, "Damn, unseen village girl!"

In the gray courtyard, Wolf mechanically scooped out the boiled bean juice and poured it into the horn cup, buckled the prepared shield base plate on the ground, and covered it evenly while the bean juice was warm. The leaves watched in silence, and on the branches hung a large birdcage that Wolf had made up in his spare time, and a Karad merchant had paid five thousand dinars - a gilded birdcage, a sink, a food hopper, and even a statue of the goddess Hazena, holding a miniature singing platform in one hand.

But this is still boring, for a hundred years, from grandfather to father, and then from father to son, Wolfe's grandson still repeats the path of his ancestors, unable to walk his own shadow.

In his dreams, Wolf had seen Tiha, a city that the Swadians had hired the Nords to build, and now the Nords would take it back, and the banners of the Northern Naval Regiment would hunt and flutter on the purple-white walls, and the waves would rise and fall. The golden-ringed wheat permeated Greenland's scent, flowing like a river in the mountain streams and ravines, and the golden staff of power shimmered with a seductive diamond in the skull hands of the throne.

Really, Wolf, cowardly little priest Wolfe, he has dreams.

War attracted this powerless young man like a magnet, and the strange and unpredictable sword honor made him confused, but he was even more eager for it. In his opinion, shipwloads of Nord soldiers were a combination of the best pirates and the worst army, if he had an army, trained in the manner of the ancient Carade Empire (it cannot be said that he was right or wrong).....

Really, Wolf had nothing but a box of books, ten thousand dinars, and a small courtyard.

And he only has one dream, and when he wakes up, he doesn't want to have anything more.

In the distance, the village center was bustling with unusual noise, whether the lord was recruiting soldiers, or the conscription party was plundering provisions, and Wolf was uninterested. If the lords really need any "blessing of the god Odin", please show their respect to the god Odin with sacrifices, the effects range from aphrodisiac to praying for victory, the price is 300 bases, and there is no upper limit.

But he doesn't look for trouble, but he will find him. In the distance, he heard the heavy breathing of the iron-clad soldiers running, and the wild shouts of a group of desperate loud voices: "Give way and give way!!We are the royal guards of the Count of Ragnar!!Priest!Our brother is choking on apples!!"

The royal guard seemed to be really vulnerable, and it turned out that an apple could kill him.