The moonlight was cold, and it was scattered in the already desolate camp. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

A cold wind blew, and the bitter cold of late autumn made the plight of the refugees even worse.

Tiredness, thirst, cold......

Like a tidal wave poured into the hearts of this group of ragged refugees, the people of the troubled times were vividly reflected at this moment.

In the bleak night, there are sad mothers who cut their wrists and fed blood to their dying children, and there are men with dark faces and ragged clothes who carefully guard their wives and children behind them......

Roar!

A dull roar echoed through the cluttered camp.

There was a panic in the camp.

In the distance, the city of Boer had rejected them with cold weapons, but the tall walls were always confronting the monsters of Vitan, at least the demons with abominable faces did not bypass the city to attack the camp, and the poor people always had that little glimmer of hope.

But now, the deadlock was broken.

Vitan's vanguard had apparently run out of patience, and they planned to go directly to the back to surround the city of Bol, and then slowly capture Bol.

As for this group of refugees.

They have been driven from the Northland to the edge of the Great Wilderness, and it is clear that they have no use value here, and their fate is either to become the rations of the ogre, or to escape into the Great Wilderness to survive.

With the ogre's unique roar, a large number of monsters began to appear in the distance, and they swarmed like a tidal wave, and it seemed that Vitan's decision-makers thought that the ogres could feast the refugees before they captured the city of Boer.

The first to storm the camp was not an ogre, but a group of monsters resembling giant bears. The beasts were covered in pitch-black scales, the size of bears, with four claws on the ground and hideous fangs under their scarlet eyes. They are the black scale beasts that the ogres have raised and tamed, just as the trolls use ogres as cannon fodder, and the slightly intelligent ogres use these monsters to survive in the harsh north of the Vitaan.

The northern part of the Duchy of Vitan is an extremely cold tundra, where there are legendary trolls, and a large number of exiled races, as the "historical garbage heap", the extreme cold of the Northland is no less dangerous than the depths of the Great Wilderness, as a race that has not been extinct in this environment, ogres do have their own uniqueness.

The wooden fence could not stop the dangerous beast, and they rushed into the camp savagely and primitively, while the ogres from behind were driving them from afar with leather whips.

The black-scaled beasts' claws were comparable to that of a tiger, and they easily tore apart the people who stood in their way, and one after another the demonic beasts rushed into the camp and immediately caused a large number of casualties, and in an instant, the outskirts of the camp became a purgatory.

When the outskirts of the camp were slaughtered, corpses were strewn all over the field, and the black-scaled beasts slowly enjoyed this feast that belonged to them.

At this time, there was movement on the inside of the camp.

One by one, the men stood up quietly, silent, picking up the sticks, the worn-out knives, and the unknown sharp weapons in their hands.

Most of these men were dark-faced, slightly thin, ragged, and silent, the group of people who stood up spontaneously couldn't see the expressions on their faces, and silently met the group of vicious demonic beasts.

On one side is a thin and silent man, holding a weapon that is not a weapon.

On the other side was a vicious demonic beast, its sharp fangs and claws glowing with coldness.

In this way, a group of men actually wanted to use their flesh and blood to build a wall to stop the surging demonic beasts.

Blood is splashing.

One by one, tragic figures fell under the minions of the demonic beasts.

A thin boy with a thick wooden stick silently met a ferocious black-scaled beast.

Roar!

The monster roared, its claws slapped down, and the powerful blow was enough to tear any prey, and the boy rolled sideways, avoiding the fatal blow, and at the same time, he exerted force on his hind feet, and his thin body was like a cheetah, pounced on the black-scaled beast.

The black-scaled beast couldn't be struck, and the manpower got up, roared and opened its bloody mouth, and its two front paws slapped fiercely at the young man, and the young man's eyes lit up, and he jumped down, and plunged straight into the abdomen of the black-scaled beast.

Poof!

The sharp wooden stick stabbed directly into the softest part of the black-scaled beast's abdomen, and it has to be said that the young man's timing was very ingenious, and his courage in the face of danger was amazing.

Bang!

With a dull collision, the black-scaled beast was hit by the young man, but that was comparable to a bronze-level defense could not be easily killed by a thin and hungry young man, its red eyes flashed fiercely, and a claw slapped the young man.

The boy was knocked several meters away, stirring up a puff of dust, but shockingly, the boy got up in silence and met the black-scaled beast again, and this time, the stick in his hand was knocked away without knowing where it had gone.

The thin figure that faced the demonic beast with his bare hands couldn't help but give people a feeling of being tall.

The young man who performed this tragic scene in silence was called Mine, and he was from the Northlands.

Faced with the giant beast in front of him, Meen said that it was false not to be afraid and afraid, but he had to meet it.

Mien's father, a silent man who does not smile, taught Mien what it is to be a man's responsibility and what it is to stand up to the sky and the earth with his actions.

The father, who was silently supporting Mine's family, stood up resolutely in the face of Vitan's invasion.

Meen saw the not-so-tall man pick up a not-so-sharp sword and step into the ranks of the broken queen to meet the army of Vitan.

In order to cover their retreat, the Northland refugee commander at the time decided to leave some of them behind, and Mine's father chose to stay.

After the man entrusted Mien to his uncle, he just patted Mien lightly on the head and said to Mien in a very flat tone, "Live!"

Mien still remembers that decisive figure.

When he was far away from the battlefield, he once glanced at it from afar.

He saw with his own eyes that the decadent man who seemed to be cowardly and down, carrying the broken sword, standing alone in the corner of the broken back line, as silent as ever, while on the opposite side of them were thousands of Vitan troops.

My father was killed in battle.

This is what I heard from my uncle later, and all the members of the team were buried in that land, and no northland man took a step back until he died.

And his father, according to the scouts at the time, reported back.

At that time, the battle was at the end, everyone died, and that man, one man and one sword, burst out with earth-shattering combat power, and forcibly penetrated a Vitan legion.

It was the middle-aged uncle who was usually silent and seemed down-and-out, carrying the broken sword that had accompanied him for half his life, standing in front of that city, and bursting out with an amazing combat power that made the Northland battlefield applaud it.

One person and one sword, from noon to dawn the next day, blood stained the loess, and the broken sword cast heroes.

When Mien heard the news, his first reaction was that his father was so strong!

But he died in the end, and became one of the many stories in the Northland.

Mien took over his burden, he knew very well that when his father chose to stay, he already had the will to die, the man who had been mediocre for most of his life had lost the belief in life as early as when his mother died, and it was only by caring about Meen that the man did not choose to die!

From the north to the great wilderness, thousands of miles away, all the way to dry bones and all the way to blood.

His father died in battle in the Northlands, which was probably the best fate for him, and then his uncle collapsed on the western border, and before he died, he handed over Meen to his son.

Later, the uncle's son also died, and the eldest brother died in silence and generosity, just like his father, leaving only the uncle's daughter.

Now, it's Mien's turn.

He didn't know what he was fleeing for, and perhaps as his father said, there were only three words "to live" to explain.

But now, for the sake of the only remaining sister in his uncle's family, he must step up.

"It's my turn to protect others!"

With a shout in his heart, Mien dragged his scarred body to meet a black-scaled beast again.