Slime Immortal.

Chapter 171 The Hammer Still Works Best
"How come there are orcs here?!"

The thought flashed through Sergash's mind, but he quickly suppressed his doubts, bent down and buried himself in the snow, blending into the white, while using the snow to cover his scent and avoid being detected by the orcs' keen sense of smell.

Further away, Sermia also discreetly concealed herself, gripping the bone spear at her waist, and silently observing the snow forest.

Before long, three orcs, clad in heavy wolf skins and adorned with bone ornaments, entered the field of vision with heavy steps.

The burly orc at the head gripped a rough skull hammer tightly. He first had the other two orcs patrol the area, and only after finding nothing amiss did he approach the snow deer whose blood had already crystallized into ice.

"Ice Spike, a spell?"

The orc crouched down, licked the blood off his fingers, and then stroked the deer's body, feeling the lingering warmth.

"Someone was hunting here; they just left."

“Ulf, could it be those savages?” an orc replied, his voice muffled.

The burly orc stood up. "Okay, Kaku, you carry this snow deer back to the tribe first. Kira and I will go to the savage tribe to meet up with the chieftain."

“If they don’t hand over the summer’s grain, none of them will escape.”

"Alright." Kaku responded with a low growl, his arm muscles bulging as he hoisted the heavy deer onto his shoulder and strode into the forest through the deep snow, leaving a trail of deep footprints.

"Let's go, don't let them get away."

Ulf waved his hand, leading Kira to quickly encircle the savage tribe.

Only after the two had walked a distance did Sergash meet up with Sermia, his face showing worry. "Could something have happened? It seems the tribe doesn't have much food this year."

Sermia took a deep breath. Reason told her that it was best not to offend these overlords of the snowfield, especially since Sergash was still here, but... she ultimately softened her heart.

“Go back to the cave on the peak and hide there until I return.”

"If anything happens to the tribe, I will save them."

Serghash quickly shook his head, "I'll go with you, I'm very powerful now."

To make her story more believable, she walked up to a small spruce tree, wrapped her slender arms around the entire tree, and with a slight effort, the frozen soil at the roots cracked and the whole tree was uprooted, causing chunks of snow to fall.

Sermia was speechless. Seeing her resolute attitude, she sighed slightly and could only nod.

The two retraced their steps and quickly caught up with the two orcs. The wooden fence surrounding the savage tribe also came into view.

However, these fences have now been overturned and are scattered in the snow.

This gave them a bad feeling.

As they quietly approached the edge of the tribe, a commotion and shouting erupted. The orcs kicked open the doors of the wooden huts and searched for any possible food in each house like bandits.

Most of the savages had already been pushed and shoved by the orcs and gathered in the open space, surrounded by them.

The orc in the lead sat on a rock, his two massive hammers casually placed to the side, their cratered battle marks sending a chill down one's spine.

“It’s ‘Skullbreaker’ Grom.” Sermia said solemnly, lowering her voice.

Upon hearing this, Serghash nervously gripped his worn-out oak staff.

The name 'Skull Crusher' Groon is well-known throughout the snowy plains.

This orc, known for his brutal fighting style and his two-handed hammer capable of crushing the head of any enemy, is the most valiant orc warrior of the Frostbone tribe.

It is also one of the things that strikes fear into the hearts of wild men in this snowy plain.

His appearance signifies the beginning of plunder. Large quantities of food and fuel from the savage tribes will be seized by the orc tribes, followed by hunger and death.

After the orcs left, some people would inevitably die from hunger and cold.

On the open ground, the savage was overwhelmed by the tall, green-skinned body of the orc. He crouched on the ground in fear, his face full of confusion and terror.

The savage shaman was forced down in front of Gronn, and the burly orc said expressionlessly, "Your food supply is much smaller this year."

The shaman raised his head tremblingly and pleaded, "Lord Gron, there are not many prey animals this year, and this is already the tribe's last remaining food."

"Without this food, many people will starve to death."

Gron looked at the old man in front of him and said calmly, "I don't care how many of you die, but I will leave some food here. Whether you can survive depends on yourselves."

He did this not out of excessive sympathy.

It's more like they're managing the resources the orcs possess effectively.

That's right, in the eyes of the Snowfield Orcs, these savages are just resources.

When food was plentiful, they would keep these savages around to plunder and exploit.

During times of food shortage, these savages were their food.

Living by the law of nature, survival of the fittest, is the only rule of survival on this snowy plain; the weak are not even worthy of having the power to decide their own lives.

Those orcs who loathed this law of survival had already followed the prophecy left by their ancestors and migrated to the unknown north in search of the legendary eternally warm harbor where spring reigned all year round.

Those who remain here are only the powerful orcs who have adapted to this set of rules.

Pity, sympathy... are unnecessary emotions here.

"Thank you, sir, for your mercy."

Even the smallest, pitiful gift, barely enough to be considered a token gesture, still made the old man kowtow repeatedly and even kiss Groon's animal-hide boots.

Gron stared at him with cold eyes and slowly spoke.

"I heard two lizardmen have come here. Where are they?"

Sorgash, who was hiding in the shadows, was slightly startled and met Seraphia's gaze.

Sermia simply shook her head, signaling her not to act rashly.

Upon hearing this, the savage shaman stiffened slightly, but quickly concealed his reaction, raising his head and asking blankly:
"Lizardmen, how dare those creatures that live in the swamps set foot on this land?"

"Sir, you must have misunderstood something."

Gron remained silent, simply staring at him. His imposing body was like a towering peak, cold and majestic, radiating an invisible pressure that made the hunched figure of the savage shaman appear even smaller.

After several seconds of this silent and oppressive atmosphere, he finally spoke.

"It's best if there isn't one."

“No one is allowed to set foot in that area anymore, especially these lizardmen.”

"Kukara, there absolutely cannot be another one like this."

Kukala was a lizardman shaman who tamed snow eagles in the snowfields. The orcs feared his power, so they gave new meaning to the name of that lizardman ancestor, Kukala, in the demi-human language.

It means one who conquers ice and snow.

Even now, the orc tribes continue to warn against allowing the lizardmen to set foot deep in the snowfields.

Even the orcs, who considered themselves the strongest, had to admit the lizardmen's power.

“Yes, yes…” the savage shaman nodded in fear.

Gron stood up, turned around and left.

Before the savages could fully relax, an orc suddenly led a savage with a bandaged leg over and handed some crushed herbs to Gronn.

The tall orc brought the herbs close to his nose, sniffed them, frowned sharply, and turned to look at the old man.

"The sour taste of vines, Brutus, has anyone left the snowfield?"

The savage shaman was startled, not expecting the orcs to have such a keen sense of smell. He could only force himself to remain calm and said, "In order to hunt enough prey, the young men of the tribe risked leaving and brought back these herbs."

Gron sneered and threw the herbs on the ground.

"How dare you deceive me!"

"Putting aside the fact that these are vines that only grow in swamps, you dare to cross the snow curtain."

"It seems that Frostbone has been too kind to you food, making you forget the rules here."

Grom walked over with heavy steps, and Brutus was so frightened that he stumbled backward and fell to the ground.

His hunched back made him seem to have aged many years in an instant, and he said with fear and bitterness, "They saved the people of our tribe, I can't just ignore them."

"I made all these decisions myself, and I hope Lord Gron will let them go."

"My lord... no."

"Shaman!"

The savages cried out in alarm and a commotion broke out, but they were quickly driven back by the orcs.

Gronn raised his heavy hammer and hummed, “Traitors are not to be forgiven. Tell us their locations and the others may be spared death.”

"My lord, it really has nothing to do with them..."

Brutus was still explaining when, halfway through his sentence, Thergash's figure quietly appeared before the orcs.

"I am here."

Gronn and the other orcs turned to look when they heard the sound.

“We lizardmen don’t bully the weak like you do.”

"If you're so capable, come out and have a fair and square duel with me."

Serghash pointed his staff at Gronn and continued to provoke him with words.

"Hmph, a cheap trick."

Gronn shoved Brutu aside, hoisted his giant hammer, and walked up to Serghash to confront her.

He narrowed his eyes, staring at the lizardman in front of him, his eyes burning with a flame called fighting spirit.

"But I'd love to."

It's true that the legend of Kukala has spread throughout all the orc tribes in the snowfield, but Gronn, as a proud warrior of the Frostbone, is naturally not convinced.

He wanted to prove that the lizardmen were merely weak creatures, while the orcs were the strongest in this snowfield, and that the swamp creatures defeating them in the snowfield was nothing but a joke.

Seeing Grom approaching, Sergash turned and leaped into the open snowfield outside the tribe without hesitation.

The cold wind whipped up snowflakes, lashing at the two figures facing each other. In the silence, only the pine needles rustled on the branches.

"In the end, we couldn't stop it all..."

Brutus looked at Sergas's figure, coughed, and then sighed.

How could a shaman who only knew natural magic defeat a powerful being who had adapted to this snowy plain?

The other savages couldn't even bear to watch, turning their heads away as if they would see blood splattering the next moment.

At that moment, a wild man behind Brutus nudged him from behind, signaling him to look ahead.

Brutus was taken aback. Following his gaze, he looked past the orc figures and saw Sermia's figure appear slightly, gesturing to them.

The orcs were so engrossed in the duel that they didn't notice Sermia approaching.

The message spread silently among the savages, and they began their preparations in tacit agreement.

They were well aware of the consequences of betraying the orcs; if they didn't find a way to escape, death would be their only fate.

There's one thing Brutus didn't lie to Gronn about.

Indeed, some young people in the tribe are trying to challenge that never-ending snow barrier, hoping to cross it and find a way for the tribe to migrate south.

This snow curtain, which has trapped them in the snowfield for generations, has caused countless explorers to lose their way, and some have even starved to death on the way because they had no food.

These young people were destined to follow the same fate as their predecessors, lost in the snow and buried by it. But they encountered Sergas and Sermia, who were trying to enter the snowfield, within the snow.

The two lizardmen from the swamp, carrying a map left by their ancestors, easily rescued them.

The savage tribe has only about fifty members, of whom fewer than fifteen are young. The loss of any one of them would be a heavy blow to the tribe.

This means there are not enough hunters and food is becoming scarce.

It can be said that every exploration of the snow curtain requires sufficient courage and determination.

In the tribe, those injured while hunting or those over forty years old will even venture into the snow to find a way to survive, thus saving food for the tribe.

Although everyone went in with a sliver of hope that they could get through the snow, the blizzard that stood across the snow-capped mountain was like a silent ice tomb, swallowing up countless people who never returned.

Now that they have a map, it's time to make up their minds to abandon everything here and head south for a warmer place.

Now, the first step they need to take is to break free from the orcs' control.

On the snow outside the tribe.

Therghash spoke first, “My ancestor Kukara was able to defeat you orcs, and so can I.”

Gron said coldly, "Pretentious posturing, a frail body, terribly weak, is this all you're relying on?"

"You're waiting for your partner to make a move, aren't you?"

"So what?"

Sergash swiftly swung his staff, launching the first attack.

Ice Cone

Three ice crystals instantly condensed in front of the staff, elongated and took shape, shimmering in the sunlight, before shooting towards Gronn.

"Hmph, petty tricks."

Gronn took a heavy step and swung his two massive hammers at the flying ice spikes.

"Bang!!"

Three ice spikes exploded on the giant hammer, releasing a burst of cold air that instantly spread frost across the hammer and Gronn's arm, before solidifying into an ice shell.

With a low growl, Gron easily broke free, spun around, applied terrifying force to the hammer handle, and leaped up to bring it down.

"Bang!!"

The snow exploded, and snowflakes flew and scattered.

Serghash narrowly escaped by rolling away, and the ice crystals that instantly covered his scales cracked due to the terrifying movement.

"Ho..."

Everyone was startled by the commotion, and their hearts grew increasingly worried as they watched Sergash flee in a disheveled state.

The orcs, however, started to cheer and shout excitedly:

"Lord Gron, smash her to death."

"Smash that little lizard!"

"The snowfields belong to us orcs!!"

Thergash dodged several of Gronn's attacks with difficulty and retaliated with spells, but failed to inflict any effective damage on Gronn.

But at this moment, she no longer felt the trepidation and tension she had before the war.

Because she discovered,
This orc... doesn't seem to be as strong as her.

"All you can do is hide?!"

Gronn felt that the lizardman was like a slippery eel, able to dodge even faster whenever his giant hammer was about to fall.

His small body was not as frail as he had imagined.

However, this orc's mind was not as rough as his appearance suggested; on the contrary, it was much more delicate.

After figuring out Serghash's reaction speed, his eyes gleamed, and he made another move as if to smash the giant hammer down.

Before Sergash could dodge again, he immediately changed the direction of his attack and landed in the predicted location.

Therghash landed exactly where he was supposed to be.

Just as she was about to be struck by the giant hammer, amidst the gasps of the crowd, she gritted her teeth, dropped the oak staff, and chose to catch it with her slender arms.

"Has she gone mad?" the orc asked, looking on in bewilderment.

Just when everyone thought the giant hammer would crush those arms and turn Serghash into mincemeat, a loud "Boom!" was heard.

Serghash's body was half-submerged in the snow, and the ice armor covering the scales on his hands cracked, but the giant hammer could no longer advance.

She bravely withstood the powerful blow!
Gron's calm and collected expression froze for a moment, then changed.

Damn!

He could feel a profound and terrifying force coming from the other side, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move forward even an inch.

This monk was even stronger than him!
Before Gron could react, the strange force was transmitted through the giant hammer. He felt a dizzying sensation and was actually knocked to the ground by the lizard girl.

"No way……"

The orcs who had been jeering fell silent, staring at the scene in disbelief.

Lord Gron, you lost the contest of strength?!

He lost to a mage?!
Seeing this reversal of fortune, the surrounded savages all looked bewildered.

It's as if it's saying, "Huh??"

In their minds, this lizardman shaman from beyond the snowfields had always been a fragile healing mage.

What kind of nonsense is this, a warrior who can take down an orc with sheer strength?

In the instant everyone was astonished, Sermia moved.

Stealth is not her forte; her greatest strength lies in precise and efficient hunting.

Three bone spears trembled and shot out, cutting through the wind and snow. With a "whoosh," they struck three orcs squarely in the forehead. The terrifying force even caused the bone spears to pierce through their skulls, leaving only bloody holes.

They fell to the ground and died without uttering a sound.

"Enemy... Enemy attack!!"

As soon as the orcs awoke, the warriors of the savage tribe brutally broke through the encirclement, tearing a path to their survival.

On this cruel snowfield, most of the savages who survive are young men and middle-aged men. Even the female savages are all muscular, with bodies shaped like inverted triangles.

Their resistance was so fierce that some orcs were pinned to the ground.

"Hurry! The shaman and the child go first!"

They shouted and fought a desperate battle with the orcs.

"Damn it! Don't even think about running!" the orc roared, launching a counterattack, drawing his battle axe and hammer, and gradually tightening the encirclement.

Lacking weapons, the savages could hardly withstand them with their bare hands and were forced to retreat.

Just then, Sermia arrived.

She threw the bows and arrows and stone hammers she had collected in the tribe into the crowd of wild men, regardless of whether they could get them or not.

Her sharp eyes instantly locked onto an orc who was about to bring down his axe.

The palpable killing intent seemed to freeze him like ice. The orc broke out in a cold sweat. He only paused for a second before Sermia stepped on the savage's shoulders and leaped into the air, her wooden spears flying out one after another.

Three more orcs fell, and the scene descended into chaos.

The child had already escaped completely, and the other savages dared not linger. Under Sermia's cover, they organized their forces to fight back while quickly withdrawing from the tribe.

"Damn!!"

Groon's pupils constricted as he watched this scene, wanting to chase after it, but a strong gust of wind struck the next second, forcing him to quickly dodge.

"Bang!!!"

The giant hammer was thrown into the snow like a bomb, making a loud noise. The flying snowflakes even turned into sharp blades, cutting several wounds on the disheveled Gronn.

"Your opponent is me."

As the snow melted away, a petite figure was revealed on the other side, holding a giant hammer in both hands.

The flush of excitement still lingered on Sergash's face. She felt as if all the blood in her body had come alive at that moment, bringing her a warmth unlike anything she had ever experienced before.

strangeness.

How come she never realized how useful the hammer was before?

Starting today, she's no longer a nun!
"Don't run, take this hammer!!"

Gron hurriedly dodged away, his face filled with frustration and anger.

Not only was he taken down by a lizardman, but his weapons were also stolen. It was an utter disgrace.

If this gets out, his title of "Skull Crusher" will become a complete joke!
But the lizardwoman's strength was too strange; he dared not take it head-on, and had no intention of fighting her.

After fleeing in a sorry state, he quickly put his finger to his lips and whistled loudly, summoning a frost wolf to come and chase after the fleeing savage group.

"Sister, watch out!!"

Sergasus could only throw down his giant hammer, hurriedly pick up his oak staff, and chase after them.

Sermia glanced sideways and saw Gron chasing after them. Her expression darkened, and she waved her hand, shouting, "Don't go into the snow forest! Quick, to Nabuda Peak!"

Brutus the shaman led the way, chanting in an ancient language and waving his cedarwood staff.

【Cold Wind Technique】

The headwind that had initially hindered their progress turned into a tailwind, accelerating the savages' advance.

They didn't dare to stop for a moment and ran straight toward the towering snow-capped peaks in the distance.

In that area forbidden to orcs, snow eagles often appear, making it very dangerous, but even more dangerous for the orcs.

For some reason, these snow eagles hate orcs. As long as they can escape there, they have a chance to survive.

However, at that moment, Groon had already rushed over.

He sensed the savages' intentions, grabbed the wooden spear from the orc next to him, and threw it with all his might.

However, his accuracy was far inferior to Sermia's, and she swept him away completely.

"Humph!"

Gronn grabbed the axe, his entire body instantly turning red and hot as he entered a berserk state. With a kick of his legs, he sent the Frostwolf howling as it collapsed onto the snow.

He flew out like a cannonball, immediately hitting Sermia who was parrying with her crossed bone blades.

"Bang!!"

Sermia was knocked backward, even losing the bone blade in her left hand. She immediately felt a metallic taste in her throat, and blood gushed out.

Although he did not immediately lose his fighting ability, he was clearly seriously injured.

What was even more disheartening was that the sound of more frost wolves running could be heard from the snow forest; the orcish tribe's reinforcements had arrived.

(End of this chapter)