"Unless they can't refuse the wealth. Chief Spain stepped out of the shadows on one side, a dangerous and flickering glint in his eyes.

"Is it just wealth?" the wizard's hand holding the horn cup paused in front of his lips, his hand as dry and rough as bark gripped the rim of the cup from thick to light, trying to settle down. The wizard's voice was low, so the tone that was squeezing out of his chest was not heard clearly by Sparrow. To the chief, it was just the sound of a wizard drinking his eerie green potion.

"I'm sending a team of warriors!" Spayne sat down at the table with an oak cup filled with spirits, "Orcs have invaded our hunting grounds, so it's the tribe's responsibility to drive them away." Those greedy Terran mercenaries will also pay the price for their recklessness. ”

"A squad of warriors?" the wizard objected, "we don't know the strength of the enemy yet! I can't let the warriors of the Fury shed their blood without knowing it." Moreover, I saw the ruins of flames in the whispers of the gods, the dark red blood that had formed cold on the ground, and countless figures rolling and wailing on the ground. ”

"You're seeing the fate of the orcs!" a hint of anger flashed across the chief's face, and then he interrupted the wizard with a rude knuckle on the bulky pine table, "Are those orcs and mercenaries as powerful as the best warriors in the tribe?

The loud banging of the wooden table immediately resounded through the not-so-spacious tavern, and the noisy crowd was instantly silenced, leaving only a drunken guy with a vague dream. Almost everyone heard the impassioned words that poured out of the chief's mouth.

"Whew!" the Quid warriors, who loved battle and were full of longing and respect for death, immediately responded to the chief's battle horn with a frenzied shout. "Whoa, whoa!" The warriors in the tavern grew in high spirits as they slammed their oak glasses against the evenly marked, evenly marked, pine tabletops, and finally into a rousing song.

"Warriors crave killing and blood!" he poured the wine from his cup into his mouth, and the chief let it leak out and drip down with the whiskers on his chin and land on the wooden table. Then he slammed his glass on the table, stared at the wizard's white eyes, and ordered, "Prepare weapons and enough food, and we're going to teach the brown-haired beasts of the east a hard lesson!"

"Kick them in the ass!" the warriors quickly smacked their glasses on the table, and then the adult warriors, who thought they could take part in the battle, squeezed out of the tavern from the crowd to prepare their weapons for battle.

Looking at the adult warriors who had disappeared with Chief Spain, the wizard finally shivered and poured the green bitter liquid in his hand into his throat, then looked at the drops of wine scattered on the table, and whispered to Riga in front of him, "I always have a bad premonition. Riga, you have to be careful. Spain's recklessness would eventually cost the lives of these warriors. ”

When the wizard's last words were finished, a somewhat dazed Rriga realized his rickety body slowly disappearing at the entrance to the tavern. The wizard's body trembled slightly, not knowing if it was because of the fear of the prophecy or because of his displeasure with Chief Spain.

"Hey!" At this time, a voice with youth and vitality sounded in his ears. With a glass of amber honey in his hand, Gal had a little drunken flush on his face, and said dizzily, "Riga, don't hurry up and prepare your packing." The chief just pointed out to you to lead the way. ”

"Good. He poured the rest of the glass into his mouth, and before Riga could speak, Gal used his spinning fingers to pop a round coin with a dark cyan glow at the table.

"Welcome to come back next time. With a smile on his face and eyes almost narrowed into a slit, the fat bartender stretched out his stubby, oily fingers with a sensitivity that was extremely inconsistent with his figure, and steadily caught the flying bronze coin, and said with obvious flattery.

"Why are you so active? Aren't you going to have a few more drinks?" Rega asked with some curiosity as he looked at Garr, whose face was even more flushed.

"Haha, I knew you couldn't help but ask me!" Gal slammed his fist into Rigga's shoulder before twisting his eyebrows almost above his head. "I was allowed to fight this fight! This was my first fight as an adult. I'm imagining the battle now............"

............

After getting rid of Gal who was as excited as the brown bear who had tasted honey for the first time, Riga returned to the cabin where he lived. As soon as he reached the door, he heard an avalanche of loud snoring coming from inside. Gently pushing open the closed wooden door, Riga immediately smelled the rich smell of wine rushing to his face. Then he saw Daddy Thorne, who was sleeping in front of the fire, and the old soldier with saliva in his mouth and a small wooden bucket in his arms. From time to time, a trace of amber water flowed from the mouth of the barrel as his chest cavity changed as he breathed.

The snow ape skin that Riga had brought back had been simply tanned, and several slender wooden sticks had struggled to prop it up and place it on the roof of the house, allowing the heat from the fire to continue to dry the moisture.

"Well, it's Riga. The sound of the door opening made the old soldier open his left eye, but as Riga's figure became clearer, Daddy Thorne immediately closed his eyes and a word welled up through his nose.

"Daddy. Riga called out to the old warrior and said with some hesitation, "The chief is going to take a group of warriors to drive away the orcs that inhabit the tribe's hunting grounds." And I will be their guide. ”

"Orcs?" the old warrior, who had been lying drunkenly on a piece of fur, suddenly opened his eyes and slowly stood up from the ground. "They were an equally heroic group of warriors, but thankfully there were very few truly strong men on safari teams. ”

"Aren't the captain-level warriors in the safari party considered to be strong?" Riga immediately asked after hearing the first information about the orcs from the old warrior's lips. "They're really strong. ”

"They?" the old soldier scoffed. "For you now, a third- or fourth-level warrior may indeed be very strong. But for a huge orc legion, a warrior of this strength is like a snow wolf on an ice field, there are too many of them to count. What seems to you to be a ferocious safari party is nothing more than a tribe banished by the orcs in winter. The barren Plains of Chaos are not a land where food can grow, so hunger has always been the orc's worst enemy. For the survival of the tribe, they could only banish a part of the weak warriors and inhabitants to the surrounding areas. ”

"These orcs are still too powerful for you to match. The old warrior sighed suddenly, and then walked to the innermost room himself. After a clanging sound of metal clattering, the old warrior stepped out with two somewhat dark rusty battle axes. Battle axes are only single-edged, but the thick back of the axe makes it extremely difficult to destroy. The big rough hands were as soft as caressing the woman they loved, and when the dust was wiped off them, Daddy Thorne said with some nostalgia: "This is my gift of adulthood for Basso, but on the morning of the day he turned fourteen, a snow wolf bit his throat." Now, it's yours. ”

After saying that, the old soldier seemed to be a few years older. As soon as he threw the tomahawk into Riga's hand, he immediately sat back down on his fur. Dry and wide hands picked up the barrel and filled the glass with a "coo-dong-coo-dong". Basso was the son of an old soldier, and his mother, the wife of Daddy Thorne, died in childbirth while giving birth to Basso.

"Go, Riga. Remember to be careful. Waving a little tiredly at the hunter, the old warrior drank a full sip of ale and fell into silent memories.

"I will, and the Chief will go with me. After whispering a reassuring voice to the old warrior, Riga took out another fur coat from the room and put it on his body, then put on the old warrior's freshly taken tomahawk, and finally tied his wolfskin cloak.

When he came out of the cabin, Gal was already waiting at the door, fully armed. Dressed in a somewhat rudimentary suit of cowhide armor, with two bronze swords hanging from a wide belt around his waist, and a thick cloak made of brown bear fur, Garr now looked serious and deadly.

"Let's go! everyone is almost there. Holding out his right deerskin glove to Riga, Gal stepped out of the eaves first, through the snow that began to fall again, and walked towards the wooden wall.

Following in Garr's footsteps, when Riga reached the ground where he had assembled, he realized how many Quaid warriors had volunteered to teach the orcs a lesson. The dense crowd of human heads moved in front of his eyes, and the flickering reflections on the handles of weapons almost blinded his eyes. Warriors with Quid beards and hair were talking to each other, and if it weren't for the orders of Chief Spain, they would have been mixed up and started the competition.

Soon, Gal and Riga spotted the extremely tall chief from the crowd. Spain wore a thick brute leather armor over his coat, a shaggy gray cloak dragging from behind his shoulders and hanging low on the snow-covered ground. There was a little snow in his brown hair, and a bronze sledgehammer that could only be described as huge was carried on his shoulder, but it didn't make the tribe's strongest man feel a trace of painful pressure.

"Come here, Riga! We're about to go. As soon as his eagle-like eyes caught eye on the hunter, a loud cry immediately emerged from his mouth covered by a reddish-brown beard.

Seeing the strong and tall Riga approaching little by little, a trace of inexplicable glance flashed in Sparyn's eyes, but it was quickly hidden. "Do you remember the direction that the Soppa man described to you?" asked the chief, his gloved fingers twitching nimbly at the tip of his beard.

"Remember, she said the location of the camp, which should be in the corner near the east. Riga replied quickly. Monica's words have always been firmly in my mind, but none of them have been forgotten by the hunters.