Chapter 310 The Butcher’s Road

The delicate peace continued tacitly with the tacit understanding between the two. "Rough Bear" Calado did not want to waste his energy with the elves. He was more willing to give the passion for battle to the Norscans or beastmen.

Noel didn't want to offend the well-armed dwarves, who had no sense of measure when fighting.

Kalado placed the stainless steel shield on the hard and cold snow at the foot of the slope, poured some troll-refined oil into the large buckler, and ignited it with an igniter. The warmth of the flame dispelled the deep cold of the long night.

The elf hesitated to say something, but in the end he did not speak.

The fire attracts enemies, and apparently the dwarves don't care about that.

Noel used the flames to thaw the bowstring, and from time to time he would stretch his frozen hands to the flames, greedily seeking the warmth of the fire.

The two worried nightwalkers stopped talking. Neither one was willing to open their hearts to the unexpected passers-by. The seemingly relaxed two were on guard against everything in the surrounding environment.

Kalado had heard the strange stories told by the Longbeards. In the dark years after the disaster, many dwarves wandering around would always meet their "companions".

They are either elves, dwarves, or undeformed humans.

And when those dwarves who encountered "travelers" resolved their difficulties with their comrades and left the place where they met, those comrades who were neither humans nor ghosts disappeared after walking out of the environment where they met.

There were once curious dwarves looking for the source of the mutation. When they return the same way, they will meet again their "companions" who have forgotten everything, reenact what happened in the past, and recreate everything they have experienced before.

Some dwarves who did not believe in evil revealed the truth to their unknown companions. They never returned to the dwarf settlement and became characters in the story forever.

Thinking of this, Kalado, who was famous for his boldness, couldn't help but feel a little numb. He kept looking for excuses to talk to the elves, and took the initiative to give his name, but concealed all information that might reveal the changes in time.

"Noel. Windsinger."

Seemingly overwhelmed, the elf finally simply said his name.

This is an ordinary elf name. Due to lack of relevant knowledge, Kalado cannot get more information based on his name.

Now he is only afraid that the other party will suddenly say that he wants to go to the Far North Wasteland to make a final attempt and completely close the door that the ancient sage has lost control of.

That means Calador encountered a deceased person who was buried here during the Cataclysm.

Except for the mortals who were desperate and had no way out seven thousand years ago, who would be willing to venture into the wasteland where demons were rampant and polluted?

"I'm going to the far north and I have to find that door! Block the entrance! There's no time."

The dwarf with the majestic beard held his battle ax high and roared sadly at the lizard man.

He seemed to be a butcher, and the iconic hair crown on the dwarf's head revealed his identity to Lynch. He was a death-seeker, but he seemed a little unclear.

Lynch didn't sense everything that a living person should have from him. He was like a distant mirror image, void and empty.

Seeing that Lin Qi didn't respond, he turned around and continued heading north.

"Morgrim, let's go! We can't rest anymore, let's go! For the future of the dwarves."

The empty dwarf beside him shouted loudly, like a pilgrim. The muscular dwarf exposed his shoulders, and the unquenchable anger in his eyes reflected his persistence.

There was no response, just the howling of the cold wind and the muffled thunderous echo under the dark night.

"Morgrim?"

The dwarf, who had not taken a few steps, stopped in confusion and looked around nervously.

But there were only dignified cold-blooded creatures in the cold wind, and there was no trace of him that he was thinking about.

He couldn't remember clearly.

Maybe Mogrim died on the way here, and he was the only one who could get here. This was a journey that was destined to death, and he shouldn't have brought his son with him.

It's too late to regret.

The rage boiling in the dwarf butcher's eyes suddenly solidified, and then burned hysterically in the next moment.

He seemed to have aged thousands of years in an instant, and silence climbed on his face, hiding the contagious sadness.

Sadness was instantly replaced by anger. With some unknown persistence, the dwarf carried his battle ax and continued to trek in the howling cold wind.

Nothing has changed. He doesn't know how long he has been walking, and he doesn't know how many demons are waiting for him ahead.

He had almost forgotten the appearance of Karazha-a-Karaq, and Valaya's voice in his memory was replaced by the sneer of the Keeper of Secrets.

In the depths of his mind, one after another, the ever-changing demon kings showed him images of the doomsday, and their vicious whispers tried to defeat him with harsh realities.

Scenes of the mountains falling were staged one after another. He tried hard to concentrate and not pay attention to the devil's lies. The playful fate never attached itself to the mortal world, but he could not help but remember the painful scenes of the war.

The Great Unclean One laughed heartily in the ruins of the fortress city. Even if the dwarves detonated the land they believed in, they could not stop the invasion of Nurgle's plague army.

The never-ending plague covers the dwarven cities, because the evil god is watching the proving ground on the earth, and nothing can stop the plague, unless the god of all things looks away.

In the vision, absurd voices persuaded him to turn back.

He is not on the right path.

There were now two warriors on the wrong road. Lynch vigilantly sensed the essence of the dwarf in front of him, and found something that could not be shaken from the foamy phantom.

When the phantoms of the bloodthirsty demon and the Great Unclean One took turns to appear, and were defeated by the short figure in turn, his existence could already be confirmed by Lynch.

Grimnir, the butcher's road that the dwarf ancestors took when traveling north during the "Cataclysm".

Now Lynch can largely put the final word on the secrets of the past.

Grimnir died on this road, but he did not die completely. He changed his form and continued the unfinished war.

He becomes Him, and the past continues on its journey to the end.

This is not the road that Lynch should take, and Lynch is not on the road. Some kind of connection reflects the distant scene to him. The butcher's road should be further east.

It can only be walked by dwarves, and only dwarves can guard the road forged by the faith awakened by death.

It has not yet reached the point of needing maintenance. The phantom from seven thousand years ago still lingers here. When the phantom disappears, a dwarf butcher must fill the gap with his life.

I don’t know how long it took, but white light gradually appeared in the sky. When dawn finally came, all the visions disappeared.

The footprints left by the dwarves on the ground disappeared like an illusion. There were only traces left by Lynch along the way, nothing else.

This small episode delayed his journey north, and also gave him an annoyance.

When he doesn't know, he can ignore it, but when he learns about a defensive line of defense that needs attention, he has to be constantly vigilant about the collapse of the defense line.