Northern War Chronicles

Snow monsters, giant bears, white dwarfs, the biting cold wind blowing across the vast ice fields of northern Xinjiang seemed to appear before the eyes of the old white-bearded dwarf. The legendary experiences he had to tell dozens of times during the annual sacrificial celebrations now made him He was extremely frightened. He was no longer young, but his enemy was still as powerful as before. He was well aware of his current weakness, but the glory of being a legend did not allow him to kneel down and beg for mercy: "Come on! You blue-haired bastard!". The giant green dragon roared angrily, and silver-blue ice flames sprayed out at him. However, he could not move his old feet, and could only watch his body being devoured. Then, he suddenly sat up from the wooden recliner, and the blanket and books lying flat on his body slipped to the ground. He rubbed his eyes drowsily. "Master Abner, the celebration has begun! Don't sleep, come out!" Two young dwarves burst in from the door. They jumped happily around the old dwarf. The three of them laughed and left the living room and walked outside the house. Only the blanket on the ground and an open diary were left. On the last page, the portraits of five young dwarves were illuminated by the warm light of the fire.