For Thorne, the wilderness is his second home, and whenever he steps into the danger-ridden wilderness, he always has an inexplicable intimacy in his heart.

Here he can feel the cold wind blowing across his face, bathe in the sun that is not warm at all, step on the withered yellow weeds, enter the dark forest that covers the sky, smell the rotten branches and leaves, and enjoy every track. with hunting...

He also believes that the best adventure is when you find a long-lost warmth in an unfamiliar place.

Even though this kind of faint warmth is absent and absent, at least he has already felt it, that's all, that's all.

Who did not move the heart is far.

Thorne's deep eyes passed through the twin Valens bushes burning like flames, facing the orange light, looking at the snow-capped Valnas Mountains in the northernmost.

There is the birthplace of the Emerald River, and below the peak is a rushing waterfall, like a silver-white jade belt, pouring down among the boulders.

Looking at the snow-capped peaks, Thorne seemed to have heard the endless rush of the waterfalls on the Emerald River, for that sound had lingered in his ears for hundreds of days and nights.

Surrounding the waterfall is a small town that survives tenaciously: the town on the waterfall.

It was a small town built on a waterfall. It was guarded by a group of visitors from other worlds and aboriginal residents. They lived together harmoniously and jointly resisted various crises from the wilderness.

The heads of gnolls, ogres, hill giants, trolls, lizardmen, and all manner of ferocious and magical beasts can be found on the bloodstained walls of Fallsville.

Through the alleyway intertwined with the twin Valens trees, and stepping on the leaves that stained the ground blood red, Thorne left.

He was a ranger wandering in the wilderness, and a hunter of the Way of Silent, so it was not surprising that he left quietly.

Come in a hurry, go in a hurry, do what you want to do, and start the next journey.

There were not many people on the desolate streets, so few people noticed his departure, only a few people watched him secretly through the gaps in the house.

Among those who peeped at him, he felt stares and whispers, doubts and unease, curiosity and scrutiny...

This look is very familiar to Thorne, that is: mutual distrust.

Because tieflings are descended from the devil, tieflings are often viewed with suspicion, including once Thorne himself.

Most people agree that their hellish blood is not only imprinted on their appearance, but also in character and morals.

Over the years with distrust, the hearts of most tieflings have changed, and they have treated distrust differently.

Some tieflings choose to put the inherent impression of evil into practice, leaving indelible pain for others, while others still maintain a kind heart.

Most tieflings just want to prove to the world that just because the bloodline is tainted doesn't mean the soul is also tainted.

However, when these kind-hearted tieflings enter human towns, shopkeepers, hotel owners, and rushing businessmen will always pay more attention.

Even the town guard might follow them for a while, lest they do bad things, and the instigators would blame them for strange things that happened.

The so-called racial harmony is nothing but a slogan preached by idealists.

The same goes for the half-elf races including Thorne.

Many people believe that half-elf races inherit the grace of elves without the indifference of elves, and the vitality of humans without the brutality of humans.

Half-elves combine the advantages of humans and elves, and inherit keen perception, artistic accomplishment and nature-loving nature from elves, and reconcile the curiosity, creativity and ambition of human blood.

Simply a perfect combination.

However, the reality is that neither race welcomes you. From the moment you were born, it was almost decided that this was a bleak life.

From the elf's point of view, half-elves grow too fast, and mature in about twenty years. Half-elves have grown up before they can learn the complex arts, culture, and even grammar of elves.

By elf standards, a half-elf is physically mature, but mentally still a child.

Half-elves who grow up in elven society are usually out of tune with their childhood companions, so they can only leave their homes and go to other places to seek development alone.

Growing up in human society, half-elves will find themselves different from their peers, more withdrawn, sensitive, unambitious, and slower to develop.

The final result is that half-elves can neither integrate into human society nor adapt to the life of elves, and finally have to choose to wander alone.

In the town of Falls, where Thorne lives, gathered are the half-elf natives from all over the world.

They used to be half-elves who were ostracized by humans and elves, and then united to establish a realm that belonged to half-elves.

Because only their compatriots can truly understand the hardships of living between the two races, half-elves like to get along with people of their own kind.

A pile of whistling leaves fluttered in the air, gradually covering up the footprints he left and the back of his departure.

Pass through the iron gates of Stallman Town and step into the vast Norhir Plains, on overgrown roads.

Thorne paused and turned to look in the direction of Winter City.

Without the shade of trees, the vague outline of the wizard's tower came into his eyes, and at the same time, intermittent scenes played out in his mind:

The strong paladin girl is accepting the call of fate, bathing in the divine light and making a sacred oath.

The old man who taught him the nine swords, with his withered hands, held a hammer and a chisel, respectively, and kept hitting the stones, the sound of bang bang bang still echoed in his ears.

Broto, the dwarf blacksmith, leaned on the chair, with a flickering pipe in his mouth, his entire figure was filled with heavy smoke, and under the white lie, he walked peacefully.

Even if the Orc Juggernaut in the Bloody Arena is trapped in a cage and facing an unknown fate, he can still sit quietly in the center of the arena with his long sword standing in front of him. Facing the attack of the drow swordsman master, he calmly makes a move. the most correct judgment.

Even though the berserk savages were full of arrows, they were still tirelessly scavenging the surrounding sahuagin warriors.

The Balor Balrog from the abyss floated in the air, venting his anger: let the flames purify all this, and the fireballs the size of a basin exploded into gorgeous fireworks.

The magic crystal superconducting pulse cannon of the wizard tower seems to be still gathering terrifying energy fluctuations, and in the dim night, it turns into a beautiful blue meteor shower, giving a devastating blow to the gnoll tribe.

...

Thorne tightened his black cloak and headed toward the snow-capped peak.

At this time, the light red teleportation formation suddenly blocked in front of him. When the light dissipated, a shadow shrouded in sunlight appeared in front of him.

Thorne stopped to look. He was wearing a solid black cape jacket, lined with a lilac silk shirt, and loose black trousers tucked into knee-high suede boots.

The black hair, like a waterfall, slid from the shoulders, flicked in front of and behind him, and flashed with a silky soft luster. A pair of beautiful eyes as bright as water exuded a clear dim light, and a touching smile flashed across the bottom of the eyes.

I saw that she walked gently in front of Thorne, stretched out her right hand, and said with a faint smile on the corner of her mouth:

"Get to know each other again, Andrina, a 5th-level Warlock, a 2nd-level Dragon Vein Warlock, a part-time Arcanist apprentice, and the target waterfall Shangzhen, can we go together?"

The sudden accident left Thorne stunned in place.

After a while, Thorne stretched out his right hand to hold Andrina's, nodded calmly and said, "Sohn, a 6th-level ranger, a part-time 5th-level kendo master, welcomes you to Waterfall Town."

On the blue sky, white clouds floated leisurely, and the sun fell, casting heavy cloud shadows on the wilderness, stretching the two figures on the horizon longer and longer.