Half Elf Ranger

Chapter 478 Loosing Mood

The midday sun hung motionless high above the pier, scorching everything, and even the trees, as if exhausted, dropped their branches.

The two of Thorne, who were halfway through the journey, finally came to the open area deep in the woods to take a rest under the strong suggestion of the bard after drinking the last bit of water from the water bag.

In this regard, Thorne, who was in a good mood, did not refuse.

In fact, for him, he had many quicker and less labor-intensive ways to go to Shuangta Town, which is not far away, but he chose to walk.

There is no other meaning, he just wants to quietly feel the joy brought by the long journey.

Although he once made a long-distance journey from Fallstown to Winter City, he was alone, full of grief, and set out with a desire for powerful power in his heart.

So he couldn't feel the joy of the journey at all. To him, it was more like some kind of strong mission was spurring and driving him, and this mission was exactly the belief in guarding the town of Falls.

But at this time, he was only trying to temper his state of mind and will, and in order to find the ladder leading to the supreme road, he had to maintain a relaxed expression at all times.

These were the last words that Master Druid Qingchen gave him before leaving.

Only in this way can it be easier for him to find the path of a knight-errant that really suits him and cultivate a perfect heart of a knight-errant.

Along the way, though he was often silent, the talkative bard Geert kept changing the subject:
There is a custom in a small village in the Silverpine Plain that girls must be forced to keep their virginity until they get married.

The best way to tell if an Elven woman is a spellcaster is by looking at the size of her breasts.

The remnants of Netheril lived in the Great Rift Valley in the glorious south, and their skyships often soared under the blue sky.

On the night of the full moon in the Black Pearl Forest, if you are lucky, you can see the dark elves living deep in the forest dancing the celestial dance.

Their ebony skin shrouded in moonlight is like crystal-clear black pearls. The shameless poet even maliciously wondered whether the 'Black Pearl' forest was named after the dark elf's naked body...

Even he kept complaining about the bards of this world, saying that none of them could be called a real artist, and they didn't know what art was at all.

He believes that the great significance of art lies in its ability to reveal people's true feelings, the mysteries of inner life and the passionate world.

The creation of art is not purely for the sake of art, its main purpose is to vent most of the suppressed impulse, just like why everyone loves to read the banned pornography.

And Thorne laughed and refuted Gilt: This is not an excuse for your nostalgia for having a hotel with special services.

The two came to the depths of the woods, just in time to find a clear small river, and there were several farmhouses surrounded by fences on the other side of the river, and the wafting smoke was telling them that there were people living there.

Like a child discovering a new world, the excited bard volunteers to show off his craft in the woods.

Thorne bought a slaughtered lamb from the opposite village, and Geert took advantage of the gap between him and the farmers to sneak into the vegetable garden behind the house and take fresh garlic, carrots, weeds and vetiver.

Then he boldly tried to steal an iron pot for boiling soup while the dwarf blacksmith was drunk and unconscious, but was bitten by a hound hiding in a dark corner, chased into the river, and turned into a drowned chicken.

In the end, Thorne raised his sword and threw two gold coins to the irritable and irritable dwarf blacksmith threateningly. Only then did he calm down his anger, get an iron pot, and resolve the disaster for Gilt.

As the campfire crackled merrily, Geert hummed a bawdy ditty to the birds in the woods, carefully turning the golden lamb and stirring the steaming pot with a stripped pine branch. Soup.

Thorn, who knew nothing about cooking, sat cross-legged under the big tree, proficient in all the moves of his four schools.

When the two had had their fill of roast lamb and carrot puree, Thorne lay on the branch of an oak tree with his hands behind his head.

The bard Geert threatened to perform his proud unique skill for the ranger.

Thorne said that he didn't want to hear a poignant love story, he wanted to hear a song with a happy ending.

Gilt was silent for a rare moment, and then his expression was unprecedentedly dignified, then he held the harp and began to play for the ranger:

"The wind blows down, and the memories of the flowery years are falling with messy steps. There is such a piece of memory that knocks over the fire core in my heart, and then burns fiercely. I saw that red star, like a flame. like a beating heart..."

The bard Geert hugged the harp tightly, his cheek pressed against the body, and he played non-stop as he watched the fading firelight.

It was a slender and graceful teakwood harp, stringed by twelve silver wires, and the wood was adorned with sparkling emeralds, depicting unforgettable ethereal clouds.

Thorne, lying on the branch of the oak tree, had never heard such a beautiful voice and such a melodious song.It made him recall some good things.

He thought of Andrina who was staying in the tower, and thought of the experiences of the two of them all the way from Winter City to Fallstown.

He thought of the half-elf priest Lilia who was taken somewhere by the black dragon, and thought of her sweet smile guiding him from the darkness to the light...

Here is a very peaceful ballad about a first love:
Ordinary life, a pair of lovers from meeting, acquaintance, acquaintance to love, all seem so peaceful.

There are no big ups and downs.

In this way, they went through their lives hand in hand.

The four seasons of the year are different, and I will devote my whole life to maintaining it, bit by bit, with temperature to feel and appreciate the trivialities and ups and downs of daily life.

Thorne, who was listening engrossed, didn't even notice that a vicious and hungry wolf man stopped and listened for a while, and then disappeared quietly into the depths of the woods.

Unconsciously.

Thorn suddenly found that the progress of his Heart of the Ranger, which had not been moved for half a year, had jumped to 96%, and the path of the Swordsman had increased by 10% to 60%.
At this moment, he seemed to have found a way to improve, which increased his hope of perfect advancement.

When he looked at the bard with joy, he found that the bard put away his cynical and unruly demeanor, and was staring at his harp in a trance.

As if the song just touched some nerve in him.

In an instant, Thorne caught his fleeting look, which was a kind of loneliness that was extremely rare for him... like a tree that had lost all its leaves, it was so desolate that made people feel sad.

"Hey, what do you think people live for?" The bard who came back to his senses looked up at the ranger on the tree and asked with a smile.

"What is the purpose of human life?" Thorn, who was lying on the branch, took a deep look at him and replied seriously:

"This question has actually troubled me for a long time. No matter which way we go, it will point to an answer: people live to live."

"That's true." The poet nodded slightly, as if agreeing with the ranger's point of view, he continued: "However, isn't human life an infinite cycle?"

"Why?" Thorne sat up from the branch, and he became interested.

"No matter what kind of life we ​​pursue, we can't escape an unyielding reality in the end." Gilt regained his original expression, and he stood up from the stone: "This reality is: all will die! Then what's the point of living? "

Thorne smiled irrefutably, looked at Gilt's serious expression, and didn't refute him, because he was right.

Seeing that Thorne was smiling and silent, Geert was about to continue to speak at length.

Suddenly sensing a dazzling fireball hitting the direction of the Barren Skull Mountain Range, even the ground trembled, and he couldn't help exclaiming: "Damn it! Such a big meteor fell in broad daylight. Thorn! Come down quickly!" Make a wish!"

"That's not a meteor, it's the nine-ring spell "Meteor Explosion". It seems that the Barren Skull Mountain Range is very lively. "Thorn, who looked at the sky, recognized the spell cast.

When he looked at the bard on the ground, he was instantly amused by his actions.

Because the other party really folded his hands together, his eyes were slightly closed, and he was chanting something seriously, making a wish in the direction of the Huangshou Mountain Range.

After a while, Gilt opened his eyes and said to Thorne with a smile, "What wish do you plan to make?"

"Me?..." Thorne, who was sitting on a branch, looked at the other party's serious expression. He didn't dampen his interest, but whispered solemnly:

"I hope that the target of the more than 100 dragonborn who are walking here is not us, they are just passing by."

(End of this chapter)