The Norscan raiders crept into the shadows of the woodland, and sounds from the trees seemed to greet them. Standing among the trees, Delorme couldn't tell whether the trees grew naturally or were planted by the elves long ago.
There was an unnatural quality to these trees, an aberration that made Delorme, a Norscan with no magical talent, feel horrified. But not a corruption like the Norscan one suffered, but a more subtle change, a magical enhancement that completely transformed the trees from root to branch. It wasn't the change that disturbed him, but how the magic was so seamlessly integrated into the trees.
The sounds emanating from the woods were equally unfamiliar to Delorme. They were heavy and sharp, with a musical quality that reminded him of the legend of goblins who could lure a longship to destruction with just the power of song. In catastrophe. No human voice has such a beautiful melody, not even the birds raised by the Arabs can sing such a beautiful sound.
Delorme grew nervous, convinced that although these beautiful sounds were full of melody, the sounds must be some kind of alarm! Whether or not the magical forces hidden in the woods sense the intruder, they are warning the elves of someone's presence here.
"Those sounds are made by the elves. They are singing, thanking the earth for protecting them from their enemies." The shaman could feel the uneasy mood of the predators, and he tried to comfort them.
"Then they should sing louder!" Arngail growled lowly, his eyes flashing with bloodlust. He hadn't killed anything for too long.
"Even if they sing louder, my magic will hide us." The shaman responded with a smile. Suddenly a look of uneasiness flashed across his face, and he quickly recovered before the predators noticed him. After regaining his composure, he continued, "We must move on to the core of the woods. The most powerful magic is there, which is enough to break the curse of the gods."
Although the expression on the shaman's face was well hidden, he still Delorme noticed it, but he didn't say anything. All he had to do was obey Ulfric's orders.
Soon the marauders were moving through the woodland, and now Delorme had no doubts. It was obvious that the trees were indeed growing in a certain pattern, forming a giant spiral, becoming increasingly larger as they converged toward the center. close. As he went deeper into the woodland, the beautiful sounds grew louder and the surge of magical winds grew so intense that his breath turned to frost.
As the raiders neared the center of the woodland, the shaman's voice whipped them like a whip as the pressure of the woodland made them hesitate. Ulfric was also repeating the shaman's orders, urging them forward.
"Soon, soon! This will be over, the curse will be a thing of the past. And I will be with her, I will be King of the Sali Tribe, and my son will go on to be High King of all Norsca. ."
Ulfric's whisper was also captured by Delorme, who was walking in front, but he didn't think about it because the scene in front of him attracted his attention even more.
The path ahead seemed to lead to a clearing with a huge boulder in the center, somewhat like an obelisk erected by the Kurgan tribe.
"It is a monument, erected by the elves, that gathers the magical winds that pass through Ulthuan and guides the energy of the magical winds back to the Maelstrom." The shaman explained.
"Whatever it is, you can see it shining in the shadow of the tree, and its entire surface is engraved with strange runes..." Yokul, who was acting as a scout, shrugged.
"You tried to scare us with shining rocks!" Ulfric grabbed the hunter by the collar and lifted Jokull up from the ground. He bared his sharp teeth and roared.
"No, no! There are people around that rock! Elves!" Yokul protested.
"How many people are there? Are they armed?"
"About thirty to forty people. I saw no armor or weapons. It seems to me that they are women? Yes, female elves!" Yokul thought for a moment. Then replied.
"Elven women! If we can bring them back to Ormskro alive, they should be worth twice their weight in silver!" A greedy laugh came from the mouth of one of the plunderers, and then he spoke again With a lewd laugh, he rubbed his hands impatiently.
"They would rather swallow their tongues before sailing with you," Arngail added.
"Then some special preparations are needed." The predator first glared at Arngail with dissatisfaction, then touched his chin and said while thinking.
Delorme saw how greedy proposals occupied the minds of his compatriots, and he was also greatly moved. He chose to follow Ulfric on the voyage in order to share Ulfric's glory, but no one is selfless. Some loot, even live, is a welcome added bonus.
"You can't take any chances with these elves! They are witches who control magic through monuments! If you let them breathe, they will cast spells on you!"
The shaman's loud voice brought Delorme back to reality. Soon he looked at Ulfric again.
"You heard me! They are wizards! Take no prisoners, show no mercy. We attack the elven women and kill them all. If anyone lets an elf escape, he will pay for his mistake with his own heart." Frick turned his attention to Delorme. He stared at the predators like a violent troll. He roared hysterically. Soon he pointed his long sword at the predators and roared, "Scattered in the woods, Yokul will tell you where they are. Everyone must choose their own prey. When I start to attack, you must rush in and kill them!"
Delorme leaned over and stood at the center of the ambush. The front line, near the trunk of a tall oak tree. The elf's voice filled his ears and touched his heart. There was sadness and pain in that song, a desperate plea in the strange rhythm of the lyrics. He seems to think there is still hope? A hope long nourished when it should have died long ago, a pitiful plea for aid and comfort from an implacable god.
As Delorme gazed up into the clearing, he could see the elven ladies kneeling before ancient monuments.
The female elves are slender and delicate, as delicate as the matryoshka dolls made by Lady Kisri. Their slender bodies were wrapped in silver clothes, and their golden hair flowed under the restraints of jewelry. Sandals of ivory and rubies clung to their tiny feet, and rings of sapphires and emeralds sparkled on their fingers.
For some reason, Delorme didn't feel that the display of jewelry and wealth was too exaggerated or tacky, as if every diamond and gem existed to set off the elegance of the elf woman. His heart began to waver as he contemplated the beauty of these creatures. This was his first voyage with Ulfric and his first battle. When he remembered the shaman's warnings about witchcraft and magic, panic came over him again, but he always had a vague feeling that something was wrong.
As Ulfric roared into the clearing, leaping over a mound. The confusion faded from Delorme's mind, and he roared and leapt at his target, ready to strike with his axe.
Strangely, the elven women did not react to Delorme's savage charge or ferocious war cry. When the ax he raised crossed the delicate neck of an elf woman kneeling on the ground, the elf women realized their danger.
When the blood of the first elf woman sprayed on the monument, other elf women stood up one after another, their screams filled with shock and fear, and soon other predators gathered around, the second victim, the third Three victims appeared one after another.
The slaughter was swift and brutal. Not a single elven woman could escape the clearing, and they all died around the monument. The elf woman who finally fell didn't even try to escape. She just lowered her head and waited for the predator's axe, trying her best to maintain the last trace of dignity.
Delorme stared at the carnage, wiping the elven blood from his axe. He saw Arngail wandering among the corpses of the elven women, killing the injured elves and tearing the jewelry from the bodies of the dead elven women. He saw the man who had promised to capture the elven women back to Ormskro The hands of the predator roamed freely over the body of the dead elf woman.
Echoes of the Elven Song continue to ring in Delorme's mind, a plaintive dirge that whispers of stripped dreams and dead elves. He shook his head, trying to dispel the sounds. His father once told him that the elves are a disappearing nation and are destined to be forgotten.
"I want to be free!"
Ulfric's joyful words attracted Delorm's attention, but soon, a harsh laughter sounded in the open space, roaring like thunder. He turned to look at the place where the sound came from, and saw purple-blue flames burning in the shaman's eyes.
"You crazy people! You have sown the seeds for your own destruction!" the shaman pointed at the slaughtered elf women lying on the ground with a claw-like finger. He howled, "These elf women are not What kind of wizard, but an elf wife who came to pray for the gods to grant fertility! The elf warriors of Ulthuan will pour out their anger on you because of your ridiculous actions, and the sky and the earth will tremble and fear because of this!"
Shamana The terrifying words gradually disappeared into another burst of sharp laughter. Like Delorme, all the predators present were staring at him in fear.
Delorme didn't know if it was the magic of this place that had overwhelmed the shaman's mind, driving him crazy, or something else. "If that's the case, then you will share our fate, Shaman!" Ulfric roared and walked towards the Shaman, holding the sword tightly in his right hand and raising his fist in the left hand, he roared, " Without me, you will never be able to master the Fang of the Sea, and you will never be able to leave here! Fulfill your promise, shaman! Lift the curse on me!" "
Ah~ pitiful mortals actually want to break the curse of the gods! As long as you are alive , the curse of the gods will continue, you are trapped here, cursed by your own actions, until your bones turn to dust and your name is forgotten! Your curse will not be lifted." The shaman's face twisted into With a sneer of disgust and contempt, he spat and said.
Filled with rage, Ulfric lunged at the taunting shaman. He swung his long sword and struck at the shaman's head. The heavy blade cut through the shaman's face. When he lost his balance and fell to the ground, his sword did not pierce the flesh and bones, but just cut through the air.
"I don't need your Sea Fang, I don't need it to get out of this place, because... I was never here!" the shaman hissed.
"It was all a lie! From the beginning!" Ulfric raised his face from the dust, his eyes glared at the shaman, and he roared at the top of his lungs.
The shaman didn't respond to Ulfric, but raised his hand to the sky above him. Suddenly, a ray of light burst out from his fingers and flew through the air quickly. The light exploded like a huge dazzling ball high in the sky, like a second sun.
"All the elves here will see it, now! Run away! Run away! Hahahaha, miserable mortal! Go back to your Sea Fang."
Delorme watched Ulfric howl and pounce again Towards the shaman, towards the shaman like an angry lion. However, when Ulfric stared at the mass below him, he discovered that Ulfric had only grabbed the shaman's sealskin cloak, and the shaman wearing the sealskin cloak had disappeared without a trace.
"A ghost, after such a long time, he turned out to be just a ghost!" Delorme's words were full of surprise. It was only now that he discovered that there was something wrong with the shaman.
"It was supposed to be a magical projection. The shaman left his body in Norsca and sent only his soul with us, wrapped in that magical cloak. That's why he insisted not to be touched by anyone. The reason for touching him! Because there is nothing to touch there." Arngail said stiffly, trying to hide the fear in his heart.
Ulfric stood up slowly, not speaking to his crew but glaring at the empty sealskin cloak on the ground.
Delorme desperately wanted to do something. The shaman didn't need the Sea Fang to escape from here, but he did. However, this was the first time he sailed with Ulfric. He was just an ordinary crew member. He was not Ulfric's retainer. Soon, he saw Arngail approaching Ulfric cautiously.
"Ulfric, calm down, that guy told the truth. That is, the elves will be here soon, and they will avenge what we did today. We must return to the Sea Fang now. Arngail said to Ulfric carefully.
Ulfric turned his head and stared at Arngail's face. Delorme had never seen a more desperate and pitiful expression than in Ulfric's eyes at this moment. It looked like a pair of eyes that only a dead person would have.
"It's all a lie!" Ulfric groaned, his voice dripping with sadness.
Strange sounds echoed throughout the clearing, echoing from the trees and monuments.
Delorme turned around to look for the source of the strange sound. He could feel that the sound was completely different from the previous singing. His blood froze as he saw the strange mist begin to condense. His fear was echoed in the horrified howls of the other marauders, and as a living man he backed away from the strange fog, his skin tingling with the chill.
Mist-like columns slowly drifted towards the predators. These shapeless substances had some frightening hints, something elusive but familiar. The pillars rested above the splattered blood in the clearing, and as each pillar hovered above the blood, it began to become less transparent, more like substance than shadow. Shape began to replace formlessness, and the mist-like mist transformed into slender arms and thin faces.
The stunned Delorme watched the mist turn into a ghostly figure, and the dead elf seemed to come to life, with ancient armor clinging to the dead elf's haggard body.
A strong whaler from Ormscolo mustered up his fighting spirit and determined to prove his mettle to the gods. He held his ax high and roared like a furious ogre, charging towards the nearest ghost.
In the blink of an eye, a ghost sword appeared on the ghost's bone claw, and the whaler's ax passed through it pointlessly, but when it stabbed its ghost sword into the whaler's chest, the whaler let out a screamed in agony. The whaler's flesh quickly blackened after being struck by the Ghost Sword, rotting away from the bones even as it attempted to retreat. The whaler didn't even have a chance to raise his ax for a second blow, and his body collapsed to the ground and died.
"How do we strike something we can't even touch!" Delorme cursed, retreating from the approaching ghost. His eyes wandered around, looking for any openings he could exploit.
Another new raider who joined Delorme fell screaming, his death seeming to inspire other ghosts.
The ghosts were like an incoming tide, sweeping towards the marauders. The ghost sword pierced the bodies of the marauders, leaving their shriveled and limp corpses lying on the ground.
Delorme only saw the strange sword in Yokul's hand causing damage to the ghost. The sword struck the ghost's body, causing the ghost's body to fly away and float to the clearing. But the scene that soon unfolded in front of him made him even more desperate. The scattered mist quickly re-formed into a ghost, and the strange sword could not cause effective damage to the ghost at all.
"It's all a lie!" Ulfric roared, his face turned pale, the anger in his eyes burned, and he roared desperately, "It's all a lie!
"Go away, you dogs! Stop being stupid and run away! "Ulfric shouted.
Delorme was suddenly stunned for a moment. He could feel that Ulfric at this moment was completely different from before. It seemed that despair was no longer there, replaced by another new goal that filled Ulfric. In Ke's heart, the hope that was cruelly crushed was replaced.
When Delorme rushed into the woods, he turned around and looked at the elf woman who had been slaughtered by them before, and at the companions who were slaughtered by the ghost. He felt a little... I don’t understand, what is the purpose and significance of his coming here? Isn’t he following Ulfric to seek and share honor?
Delorme suddenly stopped. He felt that his memory was confused. He wanted to see through The ghost's gap saw the whaler who fell to the ground before. If he remembered correctly, didn't that whaler fall from the wooden stake in the wolf forest during the duel with him? Why? Why did it appear? Here!
Yokul, who ran past Delorme, patted him on the shoulder to wake him up from his thoughts. Looking at the ghost that was already close at hand, he no longer thought about it, but turned around and ran across The woods, trying to distance themselves from the cursed clearing. He could feel that the trees in front of him seemed to have a more terrifying consciousness than before, full of malice. Unconsciously, he and the looters walked along the path of the woods. They moved forward on the path, unwilling to take the risk of squeezing into the woods.
However, trouble came. A raider from the Skylin tribe suddenly screamed and fell to the ground, with an extra arrow in his neck. From the shadow of the woods , more arrows roared out, piercing the bodies of the marauders with chilling precision.
Before the marauders could even draw their axes, they fell to the ground, their bodies looking like Pins were inserted all over their skin, turning into a hedgehog lying on the ground.
Yokul drew his bow and shot, and a figure fell from the tree trunk. Before he could revel in the accuracy of his archery. Ten Several arrows hit his body at a speed that was almost like a chain of arrows shot from a bow. His bloody body was weakly leaning against a tree trunk, and life was flowing out of his body.
Delorme found that there was no way to launch an effective counterattack here. The woods provided some cover but no real shelter. He could hear the branches above him making sounds as the elves jumped nimbly from one branch to another. Crunching, he could feel the anger in the strange but melodious words of the elves, he could feel the elves circling them, attacking them from behind. Staying here was a dead end, the plains could be worse, but Grasses and wildflowers would provide no protection for the Tielven archers, at least a chance of reaching the Sea Fang and escaping.
"Wild dogs of Norsca! Come with me and live, or stay here and wait to die! "Ulfric shouted.
Delorme held up his shield and ran towards the place where Ulfric made the sound. After meeting, he did not stop but continued to run along the path, swinging back and forth while running, trying to use the shield elf's Shooting, arrows whizzed past his ears and pierced the earth around his body. An arrow sliced through his arm, slicing his shoulder, and pain shot through him. He could hear Behind him, his former companions screamed in pain in the woods. He knew that the elves were torturing their companions.
When Delorme walked out of the woods, the bright sunshine greeted him. Feeling the warmth of the sun, he cheered, and under the sunlight The chill in the woods was driven from his bones. Then the side effects of running for a long time kept coming, and he became breathless and out of breath. He saw that all his companions around him had been shot by at least one arrow. He had been hit, but compared to these, more than half of his companions fell in the woods.
Delorme's heart was suddenly filled with shame. He felt that the companions who came with him to pursue honor were now scattered on the ground like carrion. The companions They did not die the glorious death of a warrior, the companions were cut down like stupid beasts, struck by the arrows of the elves, and slain before the companions could even see the enemy. He had watched the warriors before Such a cruel way to die, but there is always a reason for death. This time, that reason was a lie! A lie that Ulfric insisted on believing. Ulfric brought about this carnage, and the death of his companions was Shame, this was Ulfric's punishment for trying to defy the will of the gods!
Delorme reached to his shoulders and tore the barbed arrow from his flesh. Roaring in agony, he held it contemptuously The arrow broke and dropped to the ground. He threw his head back again and roared, but this time it was a cry of challenge rather than pain!
"They won't be there long, once they're done we'll Those who come down, they will yell at our backs! Ulfric turned and pointed his sword across the plains to the distant cliffs on the horizon. He then roared, "Only when the Sea Fang is at our feet again and we leave this cursed land." , we will be safe! "(End of Chapter)