Half-elf Notebook

The Earldom of Kersroy, the border of the kingdom, the plains outside Blackstone Fortress.

Endless green grass, undulating like raging waves in the distance.

The mountain edge connecting the earth and the sky is almost the only and unchanging scenery to walk on.

Because of the tragedy ten years ago, and the subsequent disasters.

This plain on the border of the kingdom has completely become a buffer zone.

The large tracts of arable land and scattered villages that were once developed have now been abandoned for a long time.

However, this is an area that should be sparsely populated.

A wisp of green smoke that belongs only to civilization and the aroma of stewing meat are particularly different among them.

Several "giants" who looked like humans, had canine heads and unusually large bodies were sitting around a burning fire.

Each of them is over two meters tall, with bulging muscles wrapped in skin, like huge tightened hemp ropes.

Even at a glance it is not an exaggeration.

No warrior who has fought against these alien species would choose to underestimate the terrifying power contained in them.

One of them impatiently put his finger into the boiling iron pot to stir it, as if he couldn't feel the heat of the broth at all.

Finally, under the gaze of another more sturdy orc, the only one with rough iron plates installed on his limbs.

He took it back reluctantly, put it in his mouth, and greedily sucked the soup on it.

"It's really good. After adding some of that human stuff... um, salt? It has some flavor now. At least it doesn't feel like heated river water."

"Although I prefer the fresh meat of freshly killed prey with a strong smell of blood."

The speech of orcs is completely different from that of humans, and is closer to the howls and roars of animals.

"Boss, are we really going to wait for those two guys to come back from patrol?"

"Maybe they were blinded by a deer on the road, and now they are full and sleeping soundly under a tree."

The third orc at the side echoed with a sneer.

"No, after we finish eating, we will go find them."

The orc who was respected as the boss growled.

He had an inexplicable ominous feeling.

The two orc warriors he assigned to go out should be back by the time they collect firewood for the fire.

Of course he knew that orcs were casual, impatient, and tyrannical by nature, and so was he.

But at the same time, they also believe in the beast god, following and trusting the intuition and instinct of the beast part of their bodies.

This time it's nothing else.

It was his instinct and experience that told him that something was wrong at this moment.

Therefore, he needs to understand and solve this ominous situation.

The other three put out the flames, used the heads on their waists as bowls, tore off the carcasses of the animals in the pot, and began to feast on the broth.

No one had any objection to the decision of this leader-like orc.

Orcs can't remember much, but they can remember everything.

They have not forgotten who brought them to this foreign land and kept them alive until now.

They have not forgotten who helped them survive the siege ten years ago.

As far as the orcs were concerned, fighting was almost as important as eating and sleeping.

It is normal to fight with other races and other orc tribes for food and territory.

In their eyes, survival is equivalent to a luxury that needs to be fought for desperately.

Following a fellow tribesman who can give them the right to survive becomes a natural choice.

Just as the leader orc was about to join the eating.

What he saw out of the corner of his eye interrupted his next action.

Fear and vigilance replaced the appetite in the stomach, covering up the aroma of meat that permeated the nose.

He let out a long roar, and the battle-hardened orc made the most correct judgment in an instant.

With the fighting spirit invigorated and muscles tensed and full of strength, the orc's body weighing more than 300 pounds was suddenly lifted to the ground and retreated more than ten meters.

The two iron axes hanging on his waist, alongside the trophies, were already in his hands at some point.

He saw a figure, a sudden figure that shouldn't be here.

The beast's instinct for danger made the hair on his back stand up.