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墨書 Inktalez
Glo'Mok had a very enjoyable time at the victory celebration after the battle. Everyone gathered together, eating delicious meat, singing cheerful songs, and savoring fine wine. The bonfire burned brightly in the night sky, illuminating the entire tribal camp.
Upon hearing the news, Glo'Mok's good friend Balk also decided to join the celebration. He arrived at the festival and saw Glo'Mok surrounded by people, all praising his courage and wisdom. Balk approached Glo'Mok, patted him on the shoulder, and offered his congratulations.
" Glo'Mok, you did a great job," Balk said, "You have proven yourself to be a true warrior."
Glo'Mok looked at Balk with gratitude, "Thank you for your support and friendship, Balk. I owe it all to your help."
Balk smiled and said, "We are good friends, supporting each other is only natural. Your future is full of endless possibilities, and I believe you will go far."
So, on this joyful and united night, Glo'Mok and Balk joined the celebration together, celebrating and praising the unity and strength of the tribe. It was a moment full of hope and anticipation, and they were full of confidence for the future.
Night has fallen, and the revelry has been going on for a long time. After the festivities, the campsite is a mess of cups and plates. The orcs have been feasting and drinking, but as the alcohol takes its toll, many have found a comfortable spot on the grass to lie down and rest. They are scattered all around, snoring softly.
Some orcs have collapsed onto the tables, still clutching empty cups. Others have curled up by the campfire, enjoying the warmth of the flames. There are also some who are lying directly on the ground, wearing satisfied smiles on their faces, completely lost in sweet dreams.
Under the moonlight, the entire camp was illuminated, revealing the various sleeping postures of the orcs. Some stretched out their limbs, breathing relaxedly; others tossed and turned, as if chasing prey in their dreams. Only Glo'Mok and the crackling of the campfire remained, watching over the peaceful night.
Glo'Mok sat by the campfire, gazing at the flickering flames. His mind was filled with thoughts; he knew that he had exerted great effort in battle today and emerged victorious. However, he also understood that the real challenges might still lie ahead.
In this tranquility, he felt loneliness, but it did not make him feel discouraged. Instead, he saw this tranquility as a moment for reflection and preparation. He knew that tomorrow would be an important day, the day when the list of the preservation ceremony team would be announced.
Glo'Mok quietly prayed, hoping that his name would appear on that list. He knew that it was the result of his years of hard work and his contribution to the tribe. Regardless of tomorrow's outcome, he would continue on unwaveringly, becoming a true warrior, fighting for the honor of the tribe.
Glo'Mok lay on the grass, gradually sinking into the land of dreams. In his dream, he found himself in a peaceful forest, with lush trees, birds singing, and everything full of vitality.
Suddenly, a woman dressed in ancient Shaman attire appeared before him, and it was his grandmother Malaya. His grandmother's eyes were full of love and wisdom, and she smiled gently.
Glo'Mok happily recounted today's events to his grandmother, describing his performance in battle and the upcoming ceremony he would be participating in. He expressed his desire to become Crystar and hoped to contribute to the peace of the tribe and the continent.
Grandmother Malaya listened to her grandson's words, her eyes filled with surprise and praise. She commended Glo'Mok for his efforts and composure, telling him that his hard work and her teachings made her proud.
However, Grandma's expression suddenly turned sorrowful. She took a deep breath and uttered a prophecy that startled Glo'Mok: "Everything is indeed beautiful now, but the upcoming preservation ritual will be another crisis for the Aldoria Continent. Crystar's mission is to guard the balance of the continent. You will face great challenges and dangers. But your wisdom and composure will become the hope of our tribe."
Grandma Malaya's hand seemed to contain the wisdom and mystery of the entire tribe, and she suddenly grabbed Glo'Mok's shoulder tightly. Her eyes became incredibly deep in the dream, and the color of her pupils kept changing, from clear lake water to a sky shrouded in stormy clouds. A sudden storm raged through the dream, and the trees in the dream forest swayed violently in the wind, as if welcoming a great calamity.
The thunder roared, deafening, as if the gods were speaking of the future destiny. Multiple voices merged into one, like a divine prophecy, conveying a tone of warning. This force seemed to transcend natural laws, and the words carried a heavy sense of fate.
"Crystar, will face destruction, power will once again collapse, and you are not ready!" Multiple voices intertwined, like a divine warning. This is a prophecy full of mysteries, deeply shaking Glo'Mok's soul.
The last thunderclap was like a premonition of the future, roaring and waking Glo'Mok from his dream. His heart was racing, sweat dripping from his forehead, but at the same time, his grandmother's warning was deeply imprinted in his soul, making him extremely nervous. However, the glaring sunlight had already risen from the sea level, illuminating the earth. He knew he couldn't linger in this dream anymore, but had to take action.
Urgently, Glo'Mok woke up his companions and shouted, "Get up! The sun has risen, we need to hurry back to the tribe. The list for the ceremony will be announced soon."
With the help of their companions, they hurriedly packed up the camp, rolled up the tents, and quickly crossed the grassland in the direction of the tribe. Their hearts were filled with anxiety and anticipation, hoping to catch the announcement of the list for the preservation ceremony, to see if they had been chosen to embark on the path of Crystar, and to strive for the peace of the tribe and the continent.
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