By this time Richard had arrived at Tucker Town, a small town at the foot of the Snowy Mountains and the last major supply and camping site before ascending the Temple of the Great Snow Mountain. The Snow-Capped Mountain Temple was built at an altitude of 10,000 meters, and the harsh climate there would be difficult for even a strong barbarian warrior to resist. The Holy Peak Jikrama is even more extremely cold, and if he has not reached the Holy Realm or is an inherently powerful powerhouse, he can't stay on it for a while.

The town of Tucker was already very lively, full of young barbarian warriors who had come to participate in the sacred scriptures. Only a small fraction of them qualified to compete for the holy scriptures, and most of them came to see the excitement. Most of the first half of the battle for the sacred scriptures will be held openly on the platform halfway up the snowy mountain, and being able to see many strong people fighting each other is undoubtedly a very beneficial experience for the young barbarian warriors. Therefore, many tribes are led by elders, bringing in potential and promising young people in the tribe.

Tucker couldn't afford the tens of thousands of people pouring in, and most of them found a vacant lot outside the town and pitched their tents for the night. Richhard, dressed in barbarian attire, mingled in the crowd and was immediately drowned. He walked around the town, bought a tent for the barbarians, and spent the night in the town, as everyone else did.

Early the next morning, Richard followed the flow of the group to climb the snowy mountain. The road is quite long, and it takes a day to get to the platform at a normal pace. Of course, Richard could fly up directly, but that would be too eye-catching, and it would not be conducive to his adjustment of mood at the moment. So he pressed his mind and walked on foot step by step, which was also a kind of tempering of his fighting spirit.

The temple had been prepared for a long time, and a large number of small individual tents had been set up on the platform, which was a campsite for those who participated in the battle of the holy scriptures. The barbarians who came to see the bustle had to set up tents farther away. In the corner of the platform, there is a tall totem pole, and blood-colored streamers are flying in the air, which is where the festival battle is registered, and there is already a long queue under the totem pole. Richard followed the registration team slowly, and more than an hour passed before it was finally his turn.

Under the totem pole, several warriors dressed in temple uniforms glanced at Richard, as if they were quite disdainful of his thin body, and a strong warrior said in a deep voice: "What is your name, which tribe do you come from, and whose recommendation do you have?"

Richard handed over a dark iron plaque with a Tyrannosaurus rex on the back and Cangyang Zhuoma's name and position engraved on the front.

The temple warrior's face immediately became much kinder, and he said, "It turned out to be Cangyang Zhuoma's recommendation, your name?"

"Richard. ”

"Richard? Strange name, kind of like a Norlander. The samurai said, but did not ask much, but carved Richard's name on an iron plate with a knife, handed it to Richard, and said, "It is your race number, you will be called to participate tomorrow, don't make any mistake, have a good rest tonight, don't mess with the girl!"

At nightfall, bonfires are lit on the platform, and the sound of drums, trumpets, and pizzicatos echo each other, and even more so is the desolate and majestic singing of the barbarians. Young and old barbarians sang and danced around the bonfire, and Richard was also by the fire, silently roasting the dried meat, tearing and eating one by one, thinking about his thoughts.

Most of the barbarian lyrics are stories of struggle against the harsh environment, and there are many heroes who sacrifice themselves to eradicate the powerful monsters entrenched on one side, which opens up a new living space for the tribesmen. It was the bloodshed of generations of heroes who carved out the territory that led to the prosperity of the Carlando tribe today.

But in these lyrics, Richard heard many different things. The biggest problem in the continent of Carlando is its barrenness, which is caused by a lack of water. The climate here is dry and rainless, and although there are few large deserts, most of them are grasslands and wastelands. Without enough food, it is difficult to increase the population in large numbers. The problem of food has long been solved by Norland through the way of guò plane development, and Carlando still seems to be quite backward in this regard. This situation should be caused by the Beast God and the Eternal and Time Dragon, the Beast God seems to be more strengthened in battle, and in terms of dimensional guidance and development, the Eternal and Time Dragons have already formed a fairly complete system, and I don't know how to throw out the Beast God dozens of streets.

Norland and Callandor believe in different power systems, with Norland undoubtedly a world where magic reigns supreme, while Callandor worships primordial power more. In Norland, lords large and small are accustomed to using the power of magic to alter the environment and increase the output of various products, so there are green carpet paddy fields, forests, and mines with the roar of alchemical machinery everywhere in Norland. But in Callando, you can't see anything. Some of the big rivers on this continent are choppy, and the width of the rivers can even reach tens of kilometers, but at a distance of hundreds of kilometers from the big rivers, Richard only saw patches of dry fields that depended on rain. If the water from the river had been diverted, the output of those fields would have at least doubled, but hundreds or even thousands of years have passed, and those dry fields have remained the same.

Along the way, Richard saw about 100 tribes. To put it mildly, if the strong factor is excluded, then Richard's scattered troops can be gathered and at least twenty or thirty of them can be swept away. That's the gap between Norland and Carlando. If it weren't for the sea, maybe Norland would have swept Carlando.

Of course, the strong is another factor. The Crouching Tiger on the continent of Callandor is not inferior to Norland, at least in terms of top powerhouses, which is also the key point to maintain the balance of power between the two continents.

Richard was thinking to himself, when suddenly a woman's voice came from next to him: "Don't you feel thirsty when you eat like this?"

Richard turned his head and saw that it was a young woman of about twenty, quite attractive, with the heroic spirit unique to a barbarian woman. She had bright eyes and was looking at Richard without blinking. Seeing Richard turn her head, she handed over a cowhide water bag and said, "This is the wine that our tribe brews itself, it tastes very good, and it is not very strong, just to quench your thirst." ”

"Thank you!" Richard took the water bag and took a big sip, only to feel a spicy spicy sensation that went straight down to his stomach, choking him and coughing a few times. This barbarian 'not very strong' wine was much hotter than the spirits he had drunk.

At this time, there was a burst of laughter behind the two of them: "Where did the little sheep come from, he choked like this when he drank wine! This is the man you fancied, okay?"

The young woman was furious, and without looking back, she rebuked, "It's none of your business, brute bear!

The warrior named Brute Bear seemed to be quite afraid of the young woman, snorted, and said, "This kid will definitely not compete in the competition, otherwise, hum, let him know how good I am tomorrow!"

Richard took a sip of his wine, looked at the blazing fire, and thought to himself, but none of the bear's words reached his ears. When the young woman saw Richard like this, she sighed and said, "You don't have to be afraid of him, he doesn't dare to do anything." You...... He looks very good-looking, not like a tribesman, but very much like a ...... Much like a person, and even better looking than him. My name is Gesang, and my tent is over there, so you can come to me at night. ”

Then she left the fire and went to her tent.

"Your wine bag!" Richard waved the cowhide wine bag in his hand at her.

"I've given it to you!" said Gesang without looking back.

There were whispers of discussion on the side, mostly disdain for Richard's seemingly cowardly expression. Barbarians pay the most attention to dignity and martial bravery, and Richard's silent behavior in the face of provocation has made most people look down on him, and Gesang has also been quite disappointed. But Richard didn't care about these, he ate meat and drank wine by himself, at this moment his three consciousnesses had their own thoughts, the main consciousness was reviewing all the combat skills and magic that had been experienced, seen and even heard of one by one, and the second consciousness was still studying the martial arts of the priests, and reaching the level of Yi and Russia could only be said to be the second level, and it was only the third level to reach the Cheng dù of quicksand. As for the third consciousness, it is simulating a volley again and again, and each knife must be exactly the same.

The three consciousnesses had their own functions, and Richard looked absent-minded, and after eating and drinking, he returned to the tent and fell asleep on his own, long leaving Gesang's invitation behind.

Early the next morning, the preliminaries of the festival competition officially began. The entire platform is divided into more than a dozen areas, and each area holds a competition at the same time, as long as it is knocked out of the area, it is considered a loss.

"One hundred and ninety-eight, Richard! Richard?" a voice rang out, and Richard stepped out of the crowd of participating warriors, immediately stirring up a burst of discussion. Among the ordinary barbarians of two meters, Richard did appear short and thin. Richard's opponent was a warrior who was two meters three and as strong as a bear.

"Haha! The beast god is on top, it turns out that you are really a coward of no species! Okay, I won't bully you with a brute bear, just let me slap you twice. If I win the battle against you, I will drill the camp tent of Gesang tonight!"

The bear's words immediately aroused the cheers of the onlookers. According to the barbarian tradition, the hero who wins the battle has the right to drill the girl's tent, unless the girl beats him.

Richard frowned slightly, and the killing machine that had been forcibly pressed for many days was about to move again. The wild bear reminded him of the many traditions of the barbarians, and even more so of the meaning of the sacred martial arts, and the picture of the mountains and the sea in his memory resurfaced, and no matter how he drove it, he refused to retreat.

Richard quietly tucked his hands into his sleeves, for the tips of his ten fingers were as red as blood!

"Okay, Brute Bear, don't say a word, hurry up and finish the fight, there are still many people waiting behind!" urged the temple warrior who presided over the contest.

The brute bear smirked, and suddenly exerted his strength, and the muscles of his whole body swelled, and the figure of a giant bear appeared behind him! He rushed towards Richard, and every step he took would make a great tremor tremble, as if it were really an ancient giant bear pounced on its prey!

PS: Do you want to add a change today?