Volume 7: Mortals and Gods Chapter 774: Bewitching (Part 2)
Sometimes it's hard to explain the obsession of creatures on Toril with skulls.
Almost all empire emblems include skull patterns. Whether they are emperors or nobles who symbolize the backbone of human power, they all like to decorate themselves with skull patterns.
The skull symbolizes purity.
The temptation of external evil is always threatening mankind. Anyone who succumbs to evil will undergo terrible mutations. As long as they fall, they will never be able to change back to their original appearance.
Only their pure and flawless skulls proved that they had never succumbed to evil.
Likewise, skulls are prized trophies by orcs and even demons.
With doubts and curiosity, Goodwin gently picked up the book.
The book is very old, the writing in some places is blurred, and the ink in some places has faded because it was not properly preserved.
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"These big-headed soldiers are really crazy! Today they told me that they saw someone washing clothes while on patrol. What the hell? Did their several years of military life teach them to see people washing clothes?"
"It feels like something is wrong. More and more soldiers are seeing this situation. It seems that there is really a family in the mountains."
"Maybe I should take someone to see it."
Then there was a long blank space, several pages of which were torn out, and then a different handwriting was used.
"In the year 1472 of the Imperial Calendar, our fortress welcomed an annoying Knight of the Silver Hand. These knights from the Shire Territory seemed to have no brains. They didn't know that it was the kid who told him that there was something sealed in the mountains.
Rumors about monsters?”
"Something is wrong. The duty knight has been away for more than a week, but there is still no news."
The next few pages are full of scrawls, mixed with dust and dirt, and some unexplained words.
"Thank God! It was the mysterious recluse who saved us! The damn Knight of the Silver Hand! He showed his bravery and actually attracted the terrible orc tribe!
We fought hard but were still outnumbered. At the critical moment, a friend we knew came to rescue us. Oh my God, I have never seen a person with such a tall stature and powerful strength. My head only reached his arm.
!”
"Our friend was wearing a very large full-body plate armor, a black wolf fur cloak, and holding a huge one-handed sword. He slashed the invincible orc shaman in half with his sword, allowing the orc leader to flee. The orc finally
Defeated."
"We took out the best food and the best wine to entertain this guest. Our friend was not polite, but he was unwilling to tell us his name and title. He said that he was a guilty person and could not reveal it.
Name and title.
He asked us about the Shire Territory and the Storm Fortress, but unfortunately we knew very little about it. Disappointed, he said goodbye to us."
What followed were some journals. Goodwin turned back hard and noticed that the notes and handwriting had been changed by another person. It was obvious that he had changed to another guard captain.
Turning to the last few pages, the handwriting became hurried:
"The orcs are here again. There are hundreds of them. They have besieged the fortress. We can't hold on any longer. If the reinforcements don't come tomorrow at most, tomorrow morning... we will fight to the last man."
"We couldn't escape. The orcs kept appearing from the basement. Hans used the mechanism to smash the stairs in desperation. I retreated here."
"We can't escape."
The diary, or military diary, ends here.
Full plate armor?
Wolfskin cloak?
tall and big?
Goodwin frowned. Most of the people who would decorate themselves with wolf skins were knights from the White Wolf Knights, which once existed in the Albrex Empire and was later disbanded. He was thinking about whether there was anyone with the right name.
Um?
The guilty man, defeated a small tribe of orcs by himself, and asked about the situation in the Shire Territory and Storm Fortress...
Goodwin's eyes gradually lit up.
Yes, it must be him, there can be no one else but him.
The former alpha wolf, former leader of the White Wolf Knights of the Albrex Empire, legendary strongman, and known as "Iron Claw" Logan Frings.
It was only in the war with the two southern empires decades ago that Logan experienced a shameful defeat.
The White Wolf Knights suffered heavy losses in the war, and the White Wolf Archbishop also died gloriously in battle. The White Wolf Knights also disbanded due to heavy losses in their backbone.
There is no White Wolf Knight among the top ten knights in mainland China.
Even though no one held him accountable for his fault after the war, the great White Wolf Knight still chose self-exile. He put down the knight's badge that symbolized glory, left the city of Wadendorf alone, and was never heard from again.
More and more doubts filled Goodwin's mind.
It wasn't until the brutal horn sound outside brought his thoughts back to reality that Goodwin immediately realized that something was happening outside.
Damn, something happened!
When Goodwin rushed out of the tower, he saw this scene.
From the other side of the mountain, amid the sound of horns full of violence and fury, hordes of orcs appeared from the horizon.
The minotaurs advanced slowly and neatly, dozens of orcs moved their strong bodies, and groups of frost wolves rushed into the caravan camp, biting the limbs of the mercenaries and guards wantonly.
The leading Minotaur had a human head stuck in its huge horns, and Goodwin recognized it. It was the head of the leader of the Gray Blade mercenary group.
It's a stupid idea to divide the troops.
Under the command of the tauren, the orcs rushed into the battlefield in droves.
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They broke through the fragile defenses of the mercenaries, and the rusty axes were stained with human blood. The caravan, which originally had only twenty or thirty people left, suffered heavy losses. The orcs with no end in sight almost destroyed all the people.
People are desperate.
Oliver could feel that the magic crossbow in his hand was getting hot. It was due to overuse. The enchantment of the crossbow was about to dissipate. This expensive magic weapon would probably be the same as an ordinary crossbow, unable to penetrate effectively.
Orc armor.
His spirit became darker and darker, he didn't sleep all night, and the battles were one after another. This guard of Oliver's ordinary high-level strength only felt that his hands and feet were numb, and his body was weak and weak. As soon as he raised the crossbow, he was charged head-on.
The Minotaur was directly knocked away.
Oliver's personal guard fell in the distance like rags, and the crossbow fell not far from him. He felt as if his body was falling apart, and his whole body was filled with pain.
But he knew he couldn't fall down now, so he struggled to crawl on the ground, trying hard to reach his weapon.
The hand wearing leather gloves slowly stretched towards the crossbow.
The palm of his hand was getting closer and closer to the crossbow. The loyal guard used his last strength to reach out and touch the crossbow arrow.
The thick black ox hooves stamped down, the crossbow was crushed, and the guard's hand made a clicking sound.