She Is Not a Witch

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The grand fire-picking festival has begun.

In the endless dark wilderness, a long dragon composed of torches wandered the earth, and all the tribes on the grassland gathered here. The ten-meter-high giant bull drum shook the sky, and the surging drum sound seemed to be beating. Your heart is normal, trembling in all directions.

Pillars of fire lit up on the ground one by one, reflecting the night like daylight. Orcs on horses turned around among the fire pillars, chanting the name of Darren, and then gathered to the center of the convention.

The giant stone pillars nearly eighty meters high form a rough circle. In the middle is a rough altar built of stone slabs. On each stone pillar stands a shaman, and as he recites ancient mantras, the wilderness The flames on the pillar of fire rose gradually, and formed a line of fire to gather above the altar along with the airflow, and then condensed into one place, crashing down, and hitting the altar to form a burning fireball.

After that, the shamans set up the magic circle again, so that the magic power was continuously collected and transmitted, so that the flame would not be extinguished. This is the first round of the conference, the fire of the earth.

Afterwards, the flame competition will be held. The champion and the top three will cut their wrists, drip out a small bowl of blood, and ignite the fire of formation with extraordinary magic power. On the last day of the conference, shamans will lead the ceremony to gather the power of the sun. The magic power of the sky forms the fire of the sky, and then the three fires become one. This is the flame that symbolizes all life and glory.

The fire of glory that dissipates the endless cold and brings life and prosperity has been the object of worship by the orcs since ancient times, and the customs inherited from the madfang empire are still followed by the orcs.

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On the night of the Fire-picking Festival, after the main ceremony, the orcs pitched large and small tents in the wilderness, and near the middle of the convention were vendors of various tribes to sell and exchange some things.

Luolan and Niya walked in the night market, watching the utensils sold by these vendors. Among them, there were bone flutes, lifelike wood carvings, primitive horns and scimitars, and bronze nameplates.

The patterns on these nameplates are various, some are animals, some are sun, and some have text on them. Although many people think that the orcs are barbaric, this impression is actually inaccurate.

In ancient times, the orcs also had a glorious era. At that time, they used various exquisite bronze wares, had their own writings, and recorded many myths and legends. Many of these stories are still circulating today.

For example, the life of the king of fangs, Kedalen, the battle of the dragon, and even the legend of the war against the true red empire. They are used to engraving these stories and legends on bronzes. At the same time, the bronze nameplate is also a symbol of status.

"Hello, how do you sell this?" The cyan long-haired girl bent over and picked up an old bronze medal. The leopard-eared orc stayed for a while with her eyes like blue glaze and a beautiful face. Slowly adapt.

"Hello, this bronze medal sells 2 gold coins." He carefully quoted a high price.

"This, it's a bit expensive." After finishing speaking, the shofar girl next to her pulled the cyan ponytail on Laloran's side, unclear whether she was trying to remind the other party, or simply want to touch the smooth long hair.

As the time spent with Lorland has become longer recently, Niya is not as restrained as in the past, and occasionally fights with Lorland, grabbing her cyan hair end.

"Okay, here." Lorraine didn't go to counter-offer, but directly took out two extraordinary gold coins.

"Okay...Okay, thank you." The leopard-eared young man quickly thanked him a little frightenedly. He never thought that the other party was so generous, and the price was indeed a bit high.

"Nothing." Luo Lan shook his head slightly, and the cyan ponytail also shook, and then he took the bronze medal and looked at it carefully.

The edges and corners of this mottled bronze medal are more worn out, and there are many scratches, but the patterns drawn on the bronze medal can still be seen from the remaining lines. On the altar with the sun pattern, there is a woman tied to a pillar of fire, surrounded by 5 priests, and wandering humanoid phantoms in the sky.

Due to the long age, many of the details have become blurred. You can only know from the few words on the back. This is probably the story of the middle period of the Crazy Fang Empire, because the priest’s robes on the picture have a totem of the sun. After Kedalen established the Crazy Fang Empire, the totems on the early priests and shamans were mostly fangs and beasts. It was not until the middle and late stages that they changed to flames and suns.

"Does Lorrain like this very much?" Niya asked curiously, looking at the girl's thoughtful appearance.

"That's not true, I'm just interested in the things described above." Lorrain turned his head to explain, and then put the bronze medal away and moved on.

In the hustle and bustle of the orcs, the sound of music came out from the front. Lorrain and Niya walked forward and found a group of humans gathered there. Some of them were bards, some merchants, some travelers, and some hired Escort.

The poet sits on the roof of the car, playing the sitr in his hand, and a partner next to him slaps the snare drum and sings with love. Around it is a group of humans and orcs who admire. These humans came to Gufia to trade, and at the same time there were some bards accompanying them, who took advantage of the Chamber of Commerce to sell and make money here.

The beginning of the song is relatively slow, and the clever and jumping notes gradually calm the venue, and then become agitated again as the beat progresses.

...

Release comes from the heart, from the cry of the heart

Then you will start to thank

Hope spread in this wonderful world

Inhale rivers, clouds, and dew

Poke a small hole with your fingertips and plant a sapling

Let it germinate and grow strong

The heart will turn into a forest

Never forget the past self

Every day can be your new beginning

The beats in the middle and late stages of the song are extremely tight, during which several companions continue to harmonize, and the strings of the accompaniment are pulled rapidly, giving the song a sense of strength and tension.

Lorrain Hill was attracted to this group of bards just like everyone else. Compared to those who played alone, they were more like a small band, with clear division of labor and better performance.

After the performance, the people around were applauded. Even the orcs could hardly resist the charm of music. In this short piece of music, they temporarily forgot the difficulties of the moment, as if returning to the distant past, the heyday, the ancestors galloped on The vast world, chasing endless prey, passionate and passionate battle.

Without any restriction, run freely in the wilderness, pursuing a happy battle between life and death, and a life of pride and enthusiasm. This is the life the orcs longed for most in the past.

Sadly, these purity and enjoyment have now been overwhelmed by the hard life and have long been forgotten.

On the contrary, the poems that have been influenced by this style and customs have been handed down. After being introduced into the human kingdom, after hundreds of years, they once again sounded in the ears of the orcs through the hands of the human bard.

On the small bench outside the performance venue, Lorraine and Niya sat side by side, watching the prairie bards play and sing, singing stories and legends one after another.

Compared to the herdsmen wearing leather jackets around, this young girl with blue hair and white dress is so conspicuous, even sitting quietly there attracts the attention of people around.

The girl focused on listening to the story in that song~www.wuxiaspot.com~ and didn't notice it. Several passionate young people wanted to go up to have a conversation, but couldn't bear to break the tranquil scene.

It wasn't until the bards finished singing the last ballad that there was enthusiastic applause in the arena, and the orcs gathered around flocked to the front. Just when these passionate and lustful youths were about to open their mouths to invite the beauty of the city, chanting One of the travel poets came out to make a relief.

"Don't squeeze in, this lady is our special guest. She will sing the last song for us."

When the voice fell, when the group of young people doubted and hesitated, the bard took the lead and clapped his hands.

Lorrain Hill looked at the bard with some confusion, and looked around in a blink of an eye, only to understand helplessly, and then nodded and stood up.

The applause was thunderous and enthusiastic like the ocean, and the flowers in the blue hair and white dress came onto the stage.

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