The magic barrier of the Eternal Forest provides the residents with warm winter and cool summer, similar to a greenhouse environment. If Xiyouwala, who has lived in it for more than a hundred years, would not have had the chance to see the accumulated snow that has accumulated. Snow days are a day for leisure for the elves who live leisurely. The magically regulated climate ensures a good harvest of crops every year, and even several harvests a year.

Therefore, she couldn't understand why her father didn't like her. Considering that the output of the farm at home relies on the mage, her father's resistance to magical bloodlines was unusual. She omitted the process of her successful graduation from school and joining the Rangers, and only looked at the result of being possessed by evil spirits and attacking the chanter. Her father's disgust for her was as accurate as a prophecy.

It is inappropriate to recall the past when there are still zombies wandering in the distance, but if she doesn't do this, she has to watch Steve move the George family. The scene makes her feel more uncomfortable than the conflict between father and daughter. With the unique elf-like chronicity and the humiliation of being exiled, she rarely walks around in the past few months and has no idea about the surrounding terrain, landform, and cultural environment. Does George's village be poisoned mean that there are no living people within a few miles? She doesn't know and doesn't want to think about it.

Johnson, who was over one year old, was chewed into blood and blood by his sister who turned into a zombie. In addition, crawling in the snow for a long distance, it was impossible to constrain the boy's body. Steve tried his best to pick up the scattered corpses, wrapped them in a cloak, and placed them next to his father and sister. Steve found the sheets from the house and covered the family of three. After drawing the Terra Spear, the Knight left the house and pulled the door.

The elf raised his hand and his fingertips were facing him.

"Wait." Steve had been with the mage, and could guess the elves' thoughts without saying it. "Find the horse first, then..." Steve curled his lips.

"Okay." The elf had a gloomy face, just like the sky above his head.

There must be pack horses in the village, otherwise how could the farmer take the harvest to the lord and do farm work in the spring? Thanks to his wife Andrea, Steve, who was a noble family, understands a lot about Liba people.

The snow no longer fell, and the sun rarely emerged from the clouds, but did not bring Steve any warmth. The cold-proof cloak was used to cover the body, and the Knight added a coat to the search list.

"Steve." Siyuvala, who was walking behind, whispered, and the Knight admitted that he liked the elves to call his name directly. It was both kind and pleasant.

"What's wrong? Miss." The Knight stopped and turned his head to see the elf. He maintained the consciousness that a married man should have, and maintained the necessary social distance.

"Look at the front." Xiyouwala's face changed.

He had obviously been paying attention that staring at the white snow for too long would cause blurry eyes, and it would not cover anything else. Steve turned his head and had a small black dot in his sight.

Is it another zombie? The Knight took a deep breath and made up his mind to kill with one blow, so he could no longer be like he did just now.

As the distance approaches the black dots, it gradually appears. It is a female elf wearing green scales. If the elf lady has no nose and a small piece of flesh on her neck, it is actually quite beautiful.

It was indeed a zombie. The knight drew his sword. He heard Siyuwara pronounce a name, as if it was "Lina". No matter what, the knight shrugged and walked forward quickly, intending to end the "Lina"'s misfortune with a kind blow.

Humans always think that dwarves will be born to make irons, and they can find mineral veins by smelling them from the nose, and even if they close their eyes, they can dig a passage from the ground. Oh, Flint is not easy to refute this stereotype, because he is indeed very good at the above three things. Of course, the blacksmith's craftsmanship was taught by his father, and his father was not a rune blacksmith, so he could only create some ordinary armor and weapons if he injured him.

If I were a rune blacksmith... Flint stared at the clear soup bowl and the pitiful hard cookies in his hand. Maybe I could think of a way for these poor people to not stay in the city and sigh.

Unfortunately, runes are similar to the magical bloodline of long legs. They rely entirely on inheritance. No matter how hard a person without talent works, it will be useless. Compared with the magic of long legs, the runes of dwarves are as stubborn as the dwarves themselves and are strictly passed down from generation to generation. People outside the runes blacksmith family are never able to master this craft.

What a pity, Flint broke a small piece of biscuit and threw it into his mouth, and slowly soaked it with his saliva in his mouth. Unfortunately, Valus, the commander of the Fourth Legion, who commanded the skull, was the kind of monster that needed magic weapons to kill.

It has been more than a week since the enemy's attack frequency is not fast or slow, which will not only make peace for the defenders, but also not lose too much bone-like heads. Besides, does that care about Valus? The dwarf puts himself in his shoes and thinks about this skull many times. If I had subordinates who could not die again, I wouldn't care.

Flint did arithmetic problems in his mind, and so far, no more than two thousand skeletons have been eliminated. He heard from those pointed ears that there were nearly one hundred thousand Romans who died outside the forest.

Hundreds of thousands of skeletons, tsk... The dwarf shook his head and sighed, and then squinted a piece of biscuit into his mouth.

He had nothing to complain about. With this terrifying number advantage, it would have been long since the attack of the castle with an equal number of living troops. Thanks to the cooperation between Black Skin and Emily, the mage melted the ice of the moat and the nun transformed it into holy water. The Fourth Legion gained wisdom after learning from his mistakes, and simply gave up the attack and stood outside.

The dead will not be tired, the living will, and the living will have to eat, drink, defecate, and there are many things. In order to persist until the arrival of reinforcements in the spring of the coming year, the castle will implement a strict rationing system.

"You eat it, I don't want to eat it."

The pottery bowl and wooden plate were pushed over, and the broth and biscuits were not moved. Flint stared at the two cookies and soup bowls, which contained a piece of meat! He couldn't help but swallowed.

"Everyone cares about his own, the girl with sharp ears." Flint pushed Lolana back intact.

Dwarves do not eat humans' fallacies, thinking that beautiful girls are all fairies, and they don't have to eat or drink or go to the bathroom. Lolana is one of the few elves who are willing to show their faces on the city walls and deserve the respect of dwarves.

Lolana took it back with her fate, broke the cookies into small pieces, and threw them into the soup to stir. Flint felt that the Elf's portion was not only meat in the soup, but also looked very greasy, and the cookies smelled more fragrant.

The human nobles were enjoying special treatment all the time. He was despised and said nothing. Absolute equality did not exist, and Flint of Bronzebeard Castle could understand.

The soldiers always eat very quickly. Two pieces of hard bread as big as a palm, and a bowl of meat depends on luck. They finish it in just a few seconds. With the blessing of holy water, the Skeleton Legion has not launched an attack for two days, but there is still enough manpower on the city wall. Those who have finished their meal have to stand guard at the city wall or go back to sleep quickly. They are taciturn and lifeless, and even if there is a beautiful woman like Lolana next to them, they will not look at them.

In fact, there was more than one woman named Lolana, Emily, Sophie, Maya, and Victoria. The princess is approachable, but she didn't share the dining table with the infantry. As for Emily and the others, they were the ones who accompanied him. The Baron led his knights to form a table, and Lancelot and several imperial guards were sitting at a long table close to the princess.

The dwarf had a bad attitude and never liked to sit with the ruler-like masters and ladies. He just didn't understand why Lolana came here too. You should know that the three independent tables above can still provide some dishes. Although they are relatively simple, they are still much better than the noodle soup that Big Head Soldiers chewed.

Flint threw the last bit of bread into his mouth and drank the soup. He jumped out of his seat and wiped his mouth as he walked. Flint had something to say to the silly girl Victoria, trying to pour some truth into her little head and let her face it. Will reinforcements come next spring? The dwarf sneered. My little princess, you are too tender!

The baron's table ended, and Baron Will walked to the princess and said a few words to lead his subordinates to retreat. The imperial guards finished eating, but where was the princess and where were they? A group of people sat in the same place and chatted quietly to prevent disturbing Victoria.

The dwarf smelled the aroma of roasted hot pie, which seemed to be the kind of plum pie. After all, it was a princess of a country and could enjoy desserts in the besieged city. The dwarf stopped and waved at Lolana, asking the elves to come up and try it while it was hot.

Both dwarfs and humans think that women like to eat sweets, and he is not wrong, the elf has moved his butt.

"Master of the stove, Miss Serasha." The nun moved a little to the side, making room for the dwarfs and elves.

The dwarf sat down honestly and unceremoniously. The ranger stared at the empty seat of the dark elves and took a long time to sit down. The filth between the elves had nothing to do with the dwarf, and he was more concerned about other issues. Almost no one had touched the dishes on the table, half a roast chicken, cut ham cold cuts, browned ribs, white bread, and steaming plum pie...

"Don't you eat Model's beard?" The dwarf did not intend to hide the blame in his tone. He could tolerate the privileges of the nobles, but this did not include waste.

The princess sitting at the long table smiled embarrassedly, picked up the knife and fork, and under her guidance, the ladies attacked the food. It was indeed a pity to defend the lonely city, but you had to eat it. The dwarf stuffed his mouth full of ham and chewed it loudly.

The well-educated dwarf family would not talk about serious things during meals, and Flint deeply agreed. Including the two elves, none of them here are older than him. Flint is qualified to treat these women as younger generations.

After the princess had almost finished eating, the dwarf wiped off the oil stains from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand and asked the princess: "Have you heard of the secret passages of the Smith Family Castle?"

"What?" the princess looked shocked.

"I think it's better for you to see it yourself, Vicky." He called the princess' nickname. The dwarf drank a whole glass of ale and burped in satisfaction.

"Yeah." Victoria nodded obediently, like she did when she was a child.
Chapter completed!