Arcane splendor begins with the throne

Chapter 162 Acquaintances
The night is getting thicker and the sky is getting colder.

Brian was on horseback, looking in from the edge of the small valley.

A group of dwarves were sitting around a campfire concentrating on their conversation. The dull orange light of the fire illuminated the tar tarpaulins on the circle of wagons with a gray and brown sheen.

The group of bearded dwarves sat together in tar cloaks and hoods, like stone piers, and they were carved out of the same mold.

Seeing that it was a dwarf, he relaxed, knowing that he could have a good rest tonight.

According to his previous adventure experience, Thrane's dwarves were grumpy but hospitable, especially when they encountered dwarven caravan guards in the wilderness.

These dwarves are generally happy to help adventurers in the wild, as long as he does not show malice.

Thinking of this, his tiredness involuntarily hit his whole body, and the pain that he had forgotten in his left arm also began to faintly spread.

Brian didn't waste any more time, he knew that the group of people didn't hear his voice, and didn't notice his approaching figure.

Knowing the living habits of dwarven adventurers, he didn't go over to say hello immediately, but gently pulled the horse's rein and let it neigh loudly.

In this way, the group of irritable dwarves would find themselves naturally, and instinctively think that they broke in here without a doubt, avoiding unnecessary overreactions from both sides.

However, the judgment this time made his expression tense, and his whole body tensed up, so much so that it involved the wound on his arm, which made him gasp.

With the snorting of the horse inadvertently, Brian's keen hearing caught the sound of at least five heavy crossbows pulling the winch in this caravan in an instant.

This is a heavy crossbow made by dwarves. It must be assisted by a small winch to tighten the string of the crossbow, and its penetration is very strong.

Generally speaking, the heavy crossbow requires two hands to operate, but this restriction is not as difficult as imagined for dwarves.

He saw the dwarves around the campfire jump to their feet, and despite his warnings, they were still quite excited.

Fortunately, on such occasions, the dwarf usually asks questions before raising his crossbow to greet him.

This time, Brian's judgment was very correct.

"Who?"

A dwarf shouted in a thick voice, and quickly and forcefully removed the adamantine warhammer hanging from his waist, "Stop the shadows in the dark, or I will smash your head."

The dwarf lifted the hammer in his hand as easily as a twig.

"It's a friend." Brian got off his horse and said in a friendly tone.

"Ghost knows whose friend you are!" The dwarf in the head showed a vicious expression, "Hey! Come closer. Hold out your hands and let our young man take a good look."

Brian took two steps and raised his uninjured hand.

"Hey! Are your ears not working well?" The dwarf said impatiently, "I mean, I want you to raise both hands."

Brian raised his other hand as well.

"Come closer," the dwarf said again. "By the way, take off your hood."

Brian did as he did, taking his hood down and taking a few extra steps.

"It's you?"

At this moment, a dwarf who just arrived exclaimed, quickly pushed away the crowd and ran out, took off his tar hood, widened his eyes, and said in disbelief:

"It's Brian! That's astonishing to me as it is to see goblins dancing hula in the street."

Hearing the familiar thick voice and the rambling words, Brian relaxed and recognized the appearance of the dwarf.

He smiled slightly, and a soft white light flashed across his fingertips.

The surrounding darkness was instantly dispelled, and bearded faces and figures were illuminated.

"Broto Firecast, long time no see." Brian greeted with a smile, "You old boys still look the same, it's hard to tell."

Meeting an acquaintance in the wilderness really surprised him.

"Hey!"

The dwarves holding the adamantine warhammer took out the hatchets pinned to their belts and bumped them into each other. In the night, they made a clanging sound, "The alarm is cleared! This adventurer is our friend."

Brian could notice that the dwarves around him were visibly relaxed, and he even heard a lot of people let out a sigh of relief.

This made him realize that the group of dwarves seemed to be frightened by something, so that they became so vigilant.

"What adventurer? Varda, can you fucking speak!" Broto knocked hard on the head of the dwarf holding the warhammer, and reprimanded with beard and stare:
"Our friend is now the lord of Longshou Harbor and the Storm Islands, the Duke of Tigrila, please be more polite."

"I see, Uncle Broto..."

Varda hung the weapon on his belt again, rubbed his forehead dissatisfied, and nodded quickly when he saw Broto's raised arm again.

"Welcome, Brian of Tigrila. No matter where you come from or where you are going, I welcome you."

The dwarf Broto walked towards him, held out his hands, and greeted the parked carriage: "Gerbo, and that singer, why don't you get out of the carriage and see who's coming?" gone."

The dwarf Gerber, wearing a tabby fur cloak, nimbly jumped off the carriage and walked towards Brian.

During this period, a black crow also pushed open the cowhide curtain with its small head, flew out from inside, landed firmly on the dwarf's shoulder, and watched the unexpected visitor curiously.

"Are you injured?"

The dwarf Gerbaugh raised his head, his eyes just locked on Brian's left arm.

"I'm hurt! I'm hurt!" The crow flapped its wings and screamed excitedly.

"Yes, then please." Brian nodded slightly.

Ge Erbao is not only proficient in medical treatment, but also a priest. He believes that under the treatment of the other party, his injuries will recover soon.

"No problem, come with me." The taciturn dwarf left a sentence, turned and walked towards the campfire.

at this time.

The satyr Mario jumped off the horse in a panic, his emerald eyes were full of surprise and excitement.

He was wearing a lavender silk jacket embroidered with a conspicuous crown of violets, and the wide sleeves of a pure white shirt were embroidered with inconspicuous musical notes with fine gold thread.

He happily stepped on his two legs of lamb, held the harp in his arms, played a cheerful note, and said hello: "Brian, long time no see. I was afraid that I would never see you again It's over."

Brian nodded and said with a smile, "Really? I thought you were not afraid of anything, Mario."

"Are you kidding? There are as many frightening things in this world as there are lice in a sheepskin coat. How can I not be afraid of anything?" Mario blinked and said with a smile.

"Then tell me..."

Brian looked at the weather-beaten and haggard face of the half-faun, his eyes flickered, and he asked curiously, "What is fear? Why do people only summon up courage when they are afraid."

Among these people, the half-goat is the one he can't see through the most, even with the powerful intuitive consciousness of "telepathy", it's still the same.

"That's because fear is like... an unknown note." Mario plucked the strings and explained solemnly: "When you rack your brains, you can't think of it..."

"If you can't figure it out, get the hell out of here! Brian don't want to hear him talking nonsense. Whenever he puts on such a mentally retarded and meaningful expression, what he says is like farting."

The dwarf Broto interrupted Mario's thinking impatiently, "If you want me to say, fear is like a fist in my hand. Sing, because you never know when I will hit your pretty face Come on, for you, my fist is your fear."

(End of this chapter)