At dusk, the wind on the steppe became stronger.

The wind blew fiercely across the stiff faces of the warriors, and also blew the manes that stood on end like needles on the warriors' bodies.

All the wolf cavalry of the fourth squad had already taken off their armor at this time, and only wore a linen short coat, lined up, and stood solemnly on an open field.

Not far in front of them, a large pile of thick firewood was piled up, on which former comrades-in-arms were lying quietly.

At this moment, next to the firewood, there was a thin old werewolf, mindful and thinking, dancing and jumping around. Although the elderly werewolf is too old to straighten up, he is extremely luxurious in his dress. He wears an elaborate headdress made of parrottail feathers and an elaborate robe made of multicolored bird feathers and decorated with animal bones and teeth. In addition to the dazzling bright clothes, the frost-white fur that his robe did not completely hide was also impressive.

Judging by the white color of the mane frost, it is clear that this elderly werewolf is from the Frostwolf tribe, a small Wolf tribe living in the north of the Beamon Empire. With the passage of time, the old werewolf's originally shiny frost-white fur has begun to turn gray and pale, and even large dark spots have appeared on it, which has long since lost the shine of his youth.

The old werewolf's withered arms are sometimes stretched out, sometimes raised, sometimes crossed behind his back, sometimes wrapped around his chest, and the movements look a little funny, but they are not devoid of solemnity. This dance is a sacrificial dance specially used to pay tribute to the dead and send souls to the orc customs.

When the old werewolf finally finished the last movement of the sacrificial dance and stopped beating. Perhaps because he was too old to withstand the toss, he stumbled on his feet and almost didn't stand firmly. Da Yang, who was standing behind him, hurriedly stepped forward to support him, bent down respectfully and said, "Master Bieber, thank you for your hard work. With you personally sending Bode's soul back to the arms of the God of War this time, his return will be very smooth. ”

In the orc belief in the god of war, the souls of the orcs killed in battle will return to the arms of the god of war, but not every soul will be able to successfully return. This often requires a shaman who has inherited the mana of the god of war to preside over the memorial ceremony for the war dead and protect the returning souls. The higher the mana, the stronger the ability to protect the soul, and the higher the chance that the soul will successfully reach the god of war.

And the old werewolf Bieber in front of him is one of the two accompanying shamans equipped by the Third Wing, and he is also the oldest and highest-ranking shaman among them.

Shamans have a very noble status among the orcs, but corresponding to this status is a scarce number. In the orc armies, some units have only one shaman per legion. It is only in an elite legion such as the Bloodfang Cavalry Regiment that a wing can be equipped with two shamans. In the Bimon Empire, the shamans who accompanied the army did not accept the jurisdiction of the military, and they only obeyed the orders of the Temple of Tampas, the great temple where the orcs sacrificed to the god of war.

Two months ago, one of the Grand Shamans of the Temple of Tampas stepped into the realm of the Holy Order and became a Holy Shaman, and according to the custom, the temple would hold a celebration and all shamans from all over the temple would return to the temple to observe the ceremony, including the shamans accompanying the army. In addition, after the Great Shaman advanced to the Holy Shaman, he would leave the Great Shaman and enter the highest echelon of the Temple, the Grand Electoral Panel, which would determine the ownership of the throne of the Bimon Empire. The number of people in the temple shaman's group is fixed and has always been maintained at the scale of ten people. After vacating a place in the Great Shaman's Troupe, many shamans who thought they were qualified for their qualifications and strength suddenly became hot when they looked at the Great Shaman's Troupe. After the celebration of the new holy shaman, the temple held the selection of the great shaman. When the selection is over and the dust settles on the selection of the Great Shaman, the shamans from all over the empire finally embark on their way home.

Bieber and another shaman from the 3rd Wing set out together for a temple celebration. But on the way back, because the companion was homesick and insisted on going home first, the old Bieber had to return to the third wing alone.

Today Bieber heard that the wing had conducted a 'bloody exercise', in which one of the wolf cavalry was killed. Soon after, the leader of the squad of the fallen wolf cavalry approached him and asked him to preside over a memorial service for the dead wolf cavalry.

You know, although every orc warrior hopes that after dying in battle, he will be blessed by the shaman and his soul can return to the god of war safely, but in fact, this is obviously impossible. Many ordinary orc warriors who died on the battlefield did not enjoy such treatment.

Due to old age and decrepitude, the old Bieber rarely presides over the memorial ceremony anymore. Most of these ceremonies in the Third Wing are performed by another, much younger shaman. However, now that the shaman had returned to his hometown and was not in the team, and the old Bieber saw that the captain of the squad who begged him was very sincere, so he agreed to come and preside over the memorial ceremony.

With Dayan's support, the old Bieber kept wiping the sweat on his forehead, and sighed repeatedly: "People are useless when they are old, my old bones, a little moved, and even the body doesn't obey the call, alas!"

"Okay, you let it go, I'm already on my feet. After the old Bieber stabilized himself, he said to Dayan.

Dayan carefully let go of the hands that were holding the old man.

"It's not too early, send your brother on the road early! The god of war is waiting for the return of another of his people!" said Old Bieber as he raised his head, looked at the sunset in the west, and said faintly.

In the old man's heart, there was a hint of long-lost astringency at this moment.

As a young man, he danced for many deceased warriors he knew and didn't know. The mood also changed from depressed and sad at the beginning, and gradually transformed into a heart that stopped at the beginning. Later, as he grew older and more senior, he did less and less of the ritual dance. It had been a long time since he had danced at a warrior's funeral. This time he made an exception, and he realized that he had reached his old age, and his mood had changed again.

"Man, being old is sentimental!" the old man shook his head and sighed softly.

Dayan lit a torch, held it in his hand, and walked over to the pyre. After one last glance at the sleeping warrior, he said in a deep voice, "Brother, go in peace!" and threw the torch at the pyre. With a 'boom', the pyre, which had already been drenched with pine oil, burst into flames, quickly engulfing the dead soldiers. The blazing flames also reflected the faces of every other soldier present. But at this moment, there is no sadness on their faces, only perseverance and strength.

This was the first time that Blade had attended a warrior's funeral.

When he was leaving, a deafening sentence from a famous werewolf general in the orc tribe era suddenly came to his mind: "Fighting is our life, the sword is our faith, the scar is our pride, and death is our glory!"