A goblin camp in shambles. There’s hardly any living life left here, only the remnants lost last night.
A large number of dwarves were inspecting around the camp.
Lurik stood before the camp, his eyebrows were completely knitted together.
Eric pointed to an area and said, "Here it is." While saying this, he scratched his head, "But yesterday, there should have been a pile of goblin heads here. Now all that’s left are these charred remains."
The skinned corpses hanging on the trees remained untouched, not even any animals ca to gnaw on them. Only the mosquitoes from the forest hovered around.
Listening to Eric’s words, Lurik’s expression didn’t change, he just stared intently.
A bad premonition was erupting in his heart. The beheaded heads and those corpses seed to confirm his earlier premonition.
More terrifying was the recall of so unpleasant events.
"Burn this place down quickly, I need to get back fast." After speaking, as if rembering sothing, he cursed Eric rcilessly.
"You fool, look at the scene now. Do you realize it? What you saw yesterday was an unfinished ritual. You should have burned the place down then.
But never mind, it’s fortunate that you didn’t act rashly then, or I wouldn’t be seeing you now.
But you must rember your mistake, for now, I’m leaving this place to you."
With that, Lurik rode his war sheep, leading a part of the dwarves swiftly back to Gray Furnace Castle.
Back at Gray Furnace Castle, he headed straight for the Three-Man Council Hall, and then delivered the news to the other two mbers.
Before long, the Master of Brewing staggered in, reeking of alcohol: "What’s the matter, Lurik? Why so urgent, I’m working on a new formula."
anwhile, the Castle Lord of Gray Furnace also ca in, taking his seat.
As the two sat down and saw Lurik’s expression, they imdiately turned serious, the drunken Master of Brewing suddenly becoming somber.
"What’s the matter?" the Castle Lord asked.
Facing their serious gaze, Lurik took a deep breath.
In a grave tone, he said, "Yes, very serious."
He first described his prophecy and the visions he had seen.
"Is another grave danger approaching us?" the Castle Lord asked with furrowed brows.
Lurik shook his head, "No, more dangerous than that. It feels... like the last ’plague’.
And even more severe."
"More severe than that." The Brewing Master’s expression turned even gloomier than the other two.
Hearing this, the two looked towards him in unison.
"What did you find? I feel sothing’s not right, like I’ve forgotten sothing," Lurik couldn’t help but say.
The Master of Brewing sighed deeply, with a serious expression he began to recall, then spoke slowly.
"Ah, that was a long ti ago, it was... when I was a child."
This statent shocked the two.
Among the three, without a doubt, the oldest was the Master of Brewing.
The current age of the Master of Brewing had long surpassed the normal age limit for a dwarf.
During the long centuries, it was the Master of Brewing who had always guarded the dwarven community.
His age can even be traced back to the ti before the dwarves divided.
Even the Castle Lord and Lurik were only born after or just during the division, and their mories of that ti were very vague.
Although the Master of Brewing’s life had reached its end, his power prolonged the life of the strong.
But naturally, as age increases, the power stops growing. As age declines, power also wanes, much like how life inevitably ages.
"How long ago was it, do you... know how we eventually divided? That glorious era." Such a topic involuntarily made the Master of Brewing reminisce.
Lurik nodded, "Although I probably have little mory of that ti, according to records, it was due to the conflicts of ideas among the various dwarf clans and cities.
After all, the dwarves lived together for so long, it’s normal to have differences due to varying lifestyles, not to ntion the increasing dwarf population..."
They sound like very normal reasons, and in essence, they indeed are.
It’s rare for a race to remain united as one.
Unless that race’s numbers or power are insufficient.
At that ti, the dwarves’ strength was considered one of the top in the world.
The glorious era led to even their long lifespans resulting in a massive population.
After hearing Lurik’s explanation, the Master of Brewing nodded, "You’re not wrong, that is the essence. But such a division shouldn’t have co so quickly, so rapidly.
There were different reasons, which I can barely rember, only that there was an evil god’s attack.
The Dwarf Realm at that ti gathered a massive force to fight the Evil God and successfully drove it back, clearing out all the god’s followers."
Saying this, the Master of Brewing said with so pride, "Even now, a thousand years later, that Evil God has never shown itself again."
To repel an Evil God with the power of one race, or rather, to completely drive it away, rendering it unable to peep into the world, is indeed an enormous strength.
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