Paladins of Asgard

"Sir Scala, the medical officer of the camp, is in that room, you should report in." Captain Cole pointed to a cabin not far away and said to Rowe.

Rowe nodded and passed.

"Dong dong."

"Please come in."

Luo Wei pushed open the door and entered, and saw a tall and thin middle-aged man sitting and flipping through something.

The desk was piled up with various documents and looked a little cluttered. The camp medical officer is not only responsible for battlefield medical treatment, but also many trivial matters.

"Lord Scala, I'm a new doctor, Rowe Garrison." Rowe handed over his identity information and said.

Scala looked at it, then got up and went to a wooden box to rummage for a while, took out a book "The Third Camp Code", a key and a dagger and handed it to Rowe.

"The key is your room key. The room number is written on it. The house to the east is the doctor's residence."

"...Daggers are used for self-defense. The Scrins often sneak up on our camp. Although patrolling soldiers can solve them in most cases, there are also unexpected times. Once they enter the camp, we also have to make some preparations."

As he was talking to himself, Scala suddenly stopped, looked at the Fist of Verrigan in Rowe's hand, and frowned slightly: "Warhammer?"

"Uh, it was given to me by a friend for self-defense." Rowe said.

"This is not an ordinary weapon. I can feel its magical fluctuations. If I didn't guess, it should be the power of flame... Your friend is so generous." Scala said slowly.

He then added: "Fighting is not the duty of a healer. Although your hammer is very good, let the soldiers protect you as much as possible, understand?"

"Yes." Rowe replied.

"Go." Scala sat down and said without looking up.

Rowe turned to leave and came to the camp doctor's residence. This is a three-story building with a wooden structure.

There are many forests in Warnerheim, and there are many plants and trees, which are rich in various kinds of wood, so most of the buildings in Warnerheim are wood.

Looking at the numbers on the key, Luo Wei found his room on the second floor and opened the door to enter.

The room is very small, a single cabin, the bed takes up half of the space, and the rest of the space is taken up by the table and chairs. A window was opened in the wall on the side of the bed.

Luo Wei was lying on the window, looking out, he saw endless green forests and rolling mountains.

From time to time, some birds can be seen in the sky, some are huge, some are colorful, all of which are species he has never seen before.

Unlike Asgard, a peculiar celestial body, Warnerheim is a standard planet with a vast area and a variety of races. The Warner Protoss is only the strongest of the many Warner races, occupying a dominant position and being regarded by the Warners as gods.

In addition to the Warners, there are many races here, including many intelligent races, such as Warners, Scrins, Trolls, Kronan, and more.

This is Warnerheim...

"Hey, are you new here?" The door was not closed, and there was a sound from outside.

Rowe turned his head to look, but saw a blond young man standing at the opposite door, looking towards him.

He doesn't seem to be very old, at most a few decades old, maybe even underage.

"Yeah." Rowe nodded.

The blond young man came over: "My name is Sigurd, and I'm also a doctor. What's your name?"

"Rovi." Rovi said, "By the way, I heard that this is a mixed camp, why didn't I see the people of the Warner Protoss?"

Sigurd smiled and said, "Do you think they look special? You know, the Warner Protoss and the Asa Protoss have a common ancestor."

"Is it any different from us?"

"No, except for culture." Sigurd shrugged.

"They are all gods,

And have a common ancestor, what is the difference? Go to the camp and find a random person. Before you communicate with him, you can't tell whether he is an Asa or a Vaner. "

"Okay." Rowe nodded.

It is worth mentioning that the so-called "God Race" refers to a powerful race in a broad sense, but there are also specific standards, but the standards are somewhat controversial.

According to the mainstream statement, namely the Asa Gods and the Warner Gods, the Gods should have these characteristics: humanoid; highly intelligent; kind and benevolent; have a strong body, can survive in the space environment; no obvious defects.

According to this standard, Frost Giants, Dark Elves and other races are excluded.

They were naturally dissatisfied, so they set up a set of Protoss standards that were suitable for them, which was the source of the controversy over the "Protoss" standards.

Frost giants and dark elves were expelled from the gods by the Aesir. The main reason was not their moral quality. After all, the evaluation of moral quality is always subjective and not very convincing.

The Aesir considered them to be extremely evil, and so did their evaluation of the Aesir.

What really expelled them from the gods was actually their physical defect.

Frost giants are not used to heat, dark elves are afraid of light, this is obvious, and they themselves have no way to refute.

Dark elves are particularly afraid of light, and for this reason, they even have to wear special masks and armors to block the invasion of light.

Exposure to a bright environment is a challenge for the dark elves, and ordinary dark elves would never dare to do so.

Because of this huge flaw, the dark elf's grave has grown old.

In contrast, the Asa Protoss and the Warner Protoss have no obvious flaws, are not particularly afraid of a specific environment, and have strong adaptability.

"Sigurd, how long have you been in Warnerheim?" the two talked.

Sigurd said: "Almost a year. I heard that Warnerheim is rich in medicinal herbs, and there is no danger, so I came here."

Rowe: "How do you feel?"

"This place is indeed rich in herbs. You can feel it by looking out the window. There are plants everywhere. However, this place is not as safe or comfortable as I thought." Sigurd thought for a while and said.

Rowe was a little surprised: "Why, are the Scrins very powerful?"

"No, the Skrinthians are weak. Their strength and intelligence are no higher than that of fifteen-year-old Asgardians. I can easily defeat them," Sigurd said.

"But there are so many of them that you can never kill them, and the Scrins are so disgusting, I've never seen such disgusting humanoids."

When speaking, he seemed to recall something, pouted, showing a disgusting expression.

"All I can say is... Scrins, they're downright filthy and depraved, from soul to body."