In the next situation, Lin Luo was about to take action when he suddenly heard Jax's voice.
"Wait a minute, I heard that you have been to Freljord and have a relationship with Lissandra who guards the Howling Abyss. Do you know... This time Malzahar seems to have invited a man from the Void Abyss.
The existence in the Howling Abyss... and it happened to appear in the Howling Abyss... Have you heard of the story of the One-Eye in the Abyss?"
Lin Luo thought for a moment:
"You mean... the legendary Eye of the Void, Vel'Koz? Isn't he from the Void? How could he appear in the Freljord?"
Jax shook his head:
"Who knows? Maybe to void creatures, physical distance is nothing. These are what Kieran saw through the traces of the long river of time. Before the battle, I must let you understand these."
With that said, Jax gave Lin Luo a blue magic mark, and a familiar image appeared in it.
Lin Luo took a closer look, and his eyes narrowed slightly, because this was really the scene in Freljord back then, exactly outside Lissandra's ice castle!
…
Freljord.
Lissandra's Ice Castle.
Sigvar Half-Arrow knelt on one knee and bowed his head. The howling wind on the other side of the gate was like the legendary ice ghost.
He is the mountain cutter, he is the bloody sword of Winterthorn. He once took the head of Helmgar Rockheart, the war chief of the Chosen Tribe. He also guarded the Crest Valley alone and had a stalemate with the Crow Tribe.
Reinforcements from the main castle arrived.
Most importantly, Sigvar is an Iceborn.
However - even though he had won great achievements and honors under the care of Lissandra's Eye - when he knelt in front of the open door of the Frostguard Fortress, listening to the cold wind carrying the howling banshee in the abyss,
The sadness was lashing around him, and he still felt a little anxious about the next task.
He did not put on the heavy black armor, because the weight of the armor would be of no use in the upcoming mission, but the shield on his back and the sword on his waist made him feel at ease. Expectation hung above his head. He prayed that he would not
It will be disappointing.
"You will now delve into the darkness below, brothers and sisters of the Inferno," said Loraka Forked Tongue, Frostfather of the Guardians. "But you will not fight alone. We, the Sons of Shadow, will from now on
We will not fight alone, whether it is in the darkest winter ice fields or the deepest hidden rifts, Lissandra's eyes are watching us and will never leave us."
"We were born of ice and we return to ice," Sigvar chanted, and two other members of the institute kneeling beside him chanted the same prayer in unison.
On his left is Oral Stonefist, a legendary figure among the Frost Guards. He has been fighting in the army for half his life long before Sigvar was born. He is as lean as a wolf, with a gray beard and resolute eyes. His skin is
Like hardened leather, covered with cracks and deep veins. His shoulders were covered with ice bear fur, but his arms were covered only by faded war tattoos and dozens of iron rings, each one won from battle rituals.
.His huge war hammer, Son of Thunder, hangs diagonally on his back. The hammer head of this weapon is wrapped in pure ice, and its story is as rich as Oral.
Kneeling on the right side of Sigvar is Hala Hanbingso. If Sigvar worships Oral, then he is in excessive awe of Hala. She has complete fearlessness, and her faith is indestructible.
She herself is as harsh and deadly as winter. Her mandarin duck hatchet - Blood Fang and Blood Claw hangs on her waist, but she looks a bit strange after taking off her black chain armor and horned helmet. She and Sigvar,
Like Oral, she deliberately avoided armor for this journey. Her hair on the side was shaved, and the remaining white hair was braided into an exquisite braid in the middle of her head, like a gorgeous crown. Her left eye is
Muddy white, the attack that blinded this eye left three wild scars on her face...
He had heard Oral tell the story of those scars, which were the medals of Hara's bear-hunting people. He killed three werebears and then scared the others to flee, although this was just a theory,
But Sigvar was convinced. If the Frostguard hadn't welcomed her into the tribe as a child, Hala would undoubtedly have become a powerful war mother, leading a tribe outside the main castle.
The frost priest took a few steps closer and first came to Ao
"One eye is watching you," he prayed.
Sigvar barely heard Oral growl in response, and his heart was beating heavily. Then the Frost Priest walked up to him, and his chest tightened. This felt like his first battle.
"Raise your head, Frostguard," the priest said quietly. Sigvar obeyed the order and raised his chin to look at the old man's face. It was a skinny and haggard face, with sunken cheeks and deep eye sockets. There was no kindness there,
Sigvar did not expect goodwill. Their faith was harsh and cold. A piece of holy black ice hung on Loraka's neck, and the top of the scepter in his hand was also facing a piece of black ice. The silverware of the Holy Lord,
It was used for healing and worship. The Frost Priest stretched out a finger and dipped a finger in a shallow basin into the sea monster's ink, which was black and smelly, and then drew a one-eye on Sigvar's forehead.
"One Eye is watching you," he said.
"Never blink," Sigvar responded with a chant, and then lowered his head again. His forehead was burned by the ink and felt a hot pain, but he endured it with the indifference of an iceborn. The pain was a blessing.
The priest walked to Halla and completed the ceremony, and the three chosen Iceborn stood up.
Oral is the tallest among the three, with strong muscles showing the texture of iron ropes, while Sigvar is the heaviest. Hala is half a head lower than Sigvar, but exudes strength and dominance.
But it made her look taller.
The three Frost Guard warriors stood up and took their bags, ice axes and ropes, putting them on their shoulders and hanging them on their belts.
Sigvar looked back at the Frost Guards behind him, who stood silently to see them off. Loraka Forked Tongue turned around, his mission in this expedition had been completed. Another group of Frost Priests followed.
Behind him, like a flock of crows following the war, the shadow of the main castle quickly swallowed them up.
"It's time to go," Hala Hanbingpo said. "The darkness is calling."
Sigvar nodded, joined Hala and Oral, turned away from the Frost Guard crowd, passed through the gate of the main castle, and walked onto the stone bridge across the Howling Abyss outside the door.
The misty wailing flowing in the wind became more intense, and ice crystal fragments hit them, but none of the three of them wavered at all. They were content with it. Ice was their ally. Ice was their truth.
Behind the three Frost Guard warriors, the main castle door closed with a sound, and the roaring echo quickly disappeared in the cold wind.
Sigvar took a deep breath.
Now they are going into the abyss.
Such an expedition takes place once a year, and the time is chosen on the vernal equinox, when the day and night hours are equal. Three people will be selected from the Frost Guards. The selected objects are all from the Guardian Station, that is, the guardians are deep among the believers.
A core member of the Tao.
It is a great honor to be selected to participate in this most sacred duty. When the horn sounded in the deep valley and Sigvar's name was called, his heart was filled with pride. This was his nineteenth winter, so he was the youngest
Those who were selected. He had stared countless times at the long list of thousands of people engraved on the walls of the prison. His first memory after getting up and arriving at the main castle was to look at those names with reverence and dream of the great deeds behind these names.
More than half of them have a simple rune added to the end of their names, the Rune of Death, which means they died while performing this sacred duty. Going too deep is dangerous, even for an Iceborn.
….
Sigvar knelt before the black ice statues of Avarosa, Serelda, and Lissandra. He had begged them for a long time to recognize his qualifications and one day let his name join the ranks of the others. Now it seems
His prayers were answered. He had prepared his whole life for this honor. He would be the pride of the Guardian House.
They walked forward along the bridge, with huge statues of guardians watching them silently on the road. The cold wind turned into a whirlpool, whipping and howling mercilessly.
This bridge has many names: Place of Trials, Bridge of Murder, etc. But others simply call it the Bridge of the Keep, or the Wailing Vault. If it had a name in the time of the Three Sisters, it doesn't have one now.
Lost. Within the Frostguard tribe, people often call it the Bridge of Sorrow. After all, thousands of Iceborn died here.
This bridge is so ancient that it is said that the ancient gods built it. Of course, the times of those gods have long passed.
Some pagan tribes still worship the Old Gods, but one day they will convert to the one true faith - either voluntarily or under duress of the sword. Whether they accept it or not, the ice will lead them away.
Part of the stone of the bridge has collapsed and fallen into the darkness. Time never respects ancient beauty, this is what the Frost Priest teaches. As long as you zoom in to a longer time scale, everything will be fleeting. Even the most majestic mountain peaks,
It will also be wiped out by wind and glaciers, as long as enough time is given. The only thing that is eternal is faith.
[To tell you the truth, I have been using Changing Source to read books and catch up on updates recently. Changing Source can switch sources and read aloud with many sounds. It can be used on both Android and Apple.]
A deep respect hung in Sigvar's heart. He, Stone Fist, and Ice Soul walked across the broad bridge together. One of the greatest battles ever happened here. Thousands of years ago, the Iceborn were here.
Face off against the Monitor and decide the fate of the world in battle.
They won here, but at a heavy cost, and the Watchers were plunged into darkness.
Sigvar walked silently, immersed in the thoughts of long ago. The other two Iceborn did not speak either, but whether it was because of the roaring wind or because they were also trapped in ancient legends, Sigvar
The tile is unknown.
They came to the other side of the Bridge of Sorrow, where Lissandra led the Iceborn to start the magnificent ancient war. At this time, Hala Hanbingso raised a hand to signal to stop.
"Let's go down from here," she shouted over the sound of the wind, while pointing to a defect in the stone bridge near the cliff of the rift valley.
Sigvar and Oral nodded in obedience. Although Oral is older and more experienced, his name has been engraved on the wall nine times while Hara has only three times, but old rules are hard to change.
The blood of the three sisters is stronger in the women of the Freljord tribe.
"I'll take the lead," Hala shouted. "The stone fist serves as the anchor. The half-barreled arrow stands behind."
They unrolled two rolls of rope and tied them to each other's belts - Hala to Oral, Oral to Sigvar. They tied the iron toe spikes on the toes of their boots, folded the ice picks, and used leather
The ring fastens the ice ax to the wrist.
Hala held the ice ax and swung it in a few small circles to stretch her arm muscles. Then she jumped off the bridge and landed on the ice of the cliff protruding ten feet below. Sigvar and Oral waited for her to stabilize.
Hold on tight, dig the ice pick into the ice, and then jump down like her...
"We are the will of the goddess, the goddess who walks the earth," Hala said. "Please make her proud, children of winter."
Then she climbed over the edge, pierced the ice pick deeply into the ice, climbed up the cliff, kicked the thorn into the wall, and then began to descend.
Aura grinned at Sigvar, her eyes sparkling with savage joy. "You will be a different Iceborn when you come back. The Howling Abyss will change you...if you come back." He winked.
, and then walked out of the edge and out of sight, leaving only Sigvar alone.
No, not alone. He reminded himself. The One Eye was watching him. He could still feel the burning One Eye on his forehead. Lissandra was with him and would never leave him.
He waited for a while, and then began to climb down the bottomless abyss.
Their speed was very fast, and Hala Hanbingpo set a pace that could not be neglected, but they did not take risks that they should not take. Only one of them climbed down at a time, first Hala, and then Ola
Er, and then Sigvar, the distance they move each time is almost equal to the length of the rope. In this way, they always have a stable anchor point to prevent falling, and the intervals between each person's stay can also allow them to descend at a steady speed, without the need for special
Take time to rest.
The Bridge of Sorrows is not the only bridge across the chasm. There are dozens of bridges between the two walls of the Great Chasm, but only a few are visible at the same time, and distance, fog, and darkness all wrap around them like a shroud.
Except for the topmost one, all the rest are abandoned and useless, and the tunnels and passages leading to these bridges have been blocked by avalanches or sealed by the Frostguard themselves to limit the number of entrances to the castle.
There are hundreds of feet between the two nearest bridges, and as they go deeper, the distance between the bridges becomes further. Some bridges have been completely destroyed, with only the skeletons of the bridge piers sticking out from both sides of the ice guns.
, marking the location where the bridge once existed.
The light is very dim, but it is not the complete darkness that engulfs everything during the winter solstice; it is more like the afterglow at dusk. The ice itself seems to be emitting a dim and ethereal light, which is reflected in the thick fog, so the three of them do not need to
Carry torches or firewood.
The screaming wind was still whipping between the valleys, like ghostly hands pulling at them, trying to pry them off the ice.
They had no way of judging the time. Different time periods were all connected together, forming an indistinguishable mass. Climbing, waiting, climbing, waiting. While climbing, Sigvar found his own rhythm,
Immersed in the repetitive cycle of cutting the ice pick, kicking the toe spikes, and lifting the ice pick. While waiting for Hala and Oral to descend, he silently recited the mantra prayer to keep himself alert.
Don't resist the embrace of the cold, because it contains the truth. Become one with the ice, and you will naturally understand the truth. ".
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This chapter has been completed!