Interesting, Freena thought to herself.

He was tall, but slightly hunchbacked, and the huge shackles on his arms were clearly a heavy burden on him.

"Go and see the nuns." She commanded, but her eyes remained fixed on the stranger.

The stranger faced her as a raider slid off his saddle and walked over to the shamanka.

"I'm Freina," she announced in a loud voice. "The Scar Mother of Winterclaw. Shieldbreaker. Messenger of Suffering. I am the Roar of Guyvask. Who are you and what are you doing here? ”

The man tilted his head and replied in a language she didn't understand. Freina scolded.

"You don't understand what I'm saying, do you?"

The man responded with another questioning look.

"Silas." He replied, patting himself on the chest again.

"Silas?" Freina repeated. "Your name is Silas?"

The man said the word again, patted himself on the chest again, and smiled flirtatiously at her.

Mother Scar muttered to herself. She glanced at the shamanka, who was lying lifeless and pale in the snow. One of Freina's warriors was half-kneeling beside her, looking down to check her breathing.

"Is she dead?" She shouted.

"She's frozen, but alive," a voice replied, "and she's alive at the moment." ”

The other Freljord's warriors whispered. Frozen? Everyone knows that the Frost Nun is one with the cold, which is said to be a gift from the Old Gods...... But now she's frozen, and it's this outsider, Silas, standing in front of them with bare arms?

Freina frowned and began to think about options. She didn't believe much of anything but steel, fire, and blood, but she knew that her warriors, especially Brockwal, were likely to take what was in front of her as some kind of omen.

"What a waste of time." She muttered.

She decided, tightened her grip on her spear, and steered her mount forward. The man named Silas raised a hand and yelled something in a weak southern language, but she ignored it. She's going to kill the idiot and keep going.

"Let me come." Brockwal yelled, and he rode beside Scar.

Freina raised an eyebrow.

"He has harmed the noble nun like this." Brockwal answered her silent question while pointing a stout finger at the shamancard on the ground. "It would be my glory to punish him under the watchful eye of the gods."

The stranger looked back and forth at Freena and Brockval. Did he know that his fate would be decided like this?

Freina shrugged, "He's yours." ”

Brockwal jumped off his mount, his tall frame on display. Silas wasn't small, but he was short compared to Brockval. The Iceborn warrior pulled a winter sigh from the scabbard behind his back and walked towards the Gentile with grim steps.

The last time Solva felt really cold was when she was very young, not even the age of Six Winters.

At that time, she ran after a snow hare to a frozen lake, laughing happily as she ran. She didn't realize that the ice beneath her feet was actually thin, until she heard a terrible cracking sound and the ice sheet collapsed. Before she could scream, she fell into the cold, dark waters. The biting coldness that caught her off guard made her feel like she couldn't hold a breath in her body, and her limbs immediately stiffened, and she couldn't move in the spasms of severe pain.

In those long minutes, she experienced death and was finally fished out from under the ice sheet, and the tribal shaman returned the breath of life to her. It was on that night that she first showed her God-given power.

"Sometimes, when a person has been to the other side of life and death, it will change when he comes back." The shaman explained, "Out of wisdom beyond the comprehension of mortals, the gods have blessed you. ”

In the days that followed, she found that she was no longer afraid of the cold, and was even able to walk bare-skinned in the blizzard, unaffected by anything.

And now, she was back to the panicked little girl, slowly sinking in the ice hole, watching the light above her head grow farther and farther away...... Only this time she was staring straight at the sky, and she couldn't blink her eyes.

Numb and unable to breathe, Solva just lay on the ground, unable to hear or feel. The cold melted into her. The cold became her.

Is that why she was brought here? To give her life to the Gentile so that he could fulfill his other God-given mission?

However, an unspeakable fear slowed her sinking into oblivion.

Even if the will of God forced her to die on behalf of the Gentiles, Solva knew very well that Freyna would not let him live...... So, she began to climb desperately towards the water.

Brockwal Iron Fist unleashed a deadly blow, lunging forward as Winter Sigh roared through the air, leaving a trail of ice mist.

The blow was enough to split an ice troll in half, but the alien was able to maintain incredible speed with his harness. He dodged the deadly blow backwards, and the two chains slashed down in an arc. The chain grazed Brockwal's face, missing the target, but it angered the Iceborn warrior completely.

He didn't flinch, and perhaps this was exactly what the Gentiles had calculated. He's as tough as a mountain, and he's not slow at all for his size. He threw a backhand punch to the side of her opponent's head, and Freina couldn't help but squeeze her eyes as she saw the little man being shot straight out.

The Ice Vein warrior followed, and the stranger struggled to his feet, finally gaining his footing. In fact, just being able to stand up was amazing to Freina. But he only delayed the doomed outcome a little.

With a resolute face and a grim expression, Brockwal leaned in, ready to end his life.

Silas' gaze was fixed on the barbarian's weapon.

The hilt of the sword was smeared with a pale ice crystal, which was glowing, and a layer of cold hoarfrost formed on the blade.

The ice crystal emitted a magic like Silas had never seen before. It's primitive, it's fierce, and it's only partially unleashed. Silas could feel its magic through his skin, and the tremor of that power almost intoxicated him.

The woman's power brought him back from the dead, driving away the cold in his body and the dead gray of his fingertips, which were very ancient in comparison. If only he could touch it......

With a roar, Silas stepped forward to meet the Freljord.

The chains of the Gentiles flashed and struck Brockvar in two arcs. Two chains hit the left and right sides of the Iceborn's head. The heavy hoops twisted back and forth, and Silas twisted hard to remove the Iceborn Warrior's helmet.

Brockwal shook his head, his long hair spilling loosely, and he spat on the snow and kept going.

The chains flew towards him again, but this time the stout warrior was ready. He dodged the first chain, then stepped forward and raised a hand, letting the chain whit against his forearm. Then he grasped the chain like a pincer, and pulled the little man over, just right for his elbow.

The man was hit hard by an elbow and fell to Brockval's feet. The Iceborn Warrior towered above him, Winter Sigh held high, ready to strike a fatal blow.

"Slow! Don't kill him! A voice shouted, and Brockwal paused.

Freena immediately turned her head and glared angrily, and saw Frost Sister Solva, staggering to her feet. Her face was pale, her lips were cyanotic, but she still walked forward with heavy steps, leaning tightly against her cleric staff.

"Are you crazy?" Freina roared.

"It's not madness," Solva said lightly, still holding his cleric staff tightly, "it's the will of God." ”

The giant barbarian was briefly distracted, and a bewildered expression appeared on his brutal face, and Silas saw an opportunity.

He climbed into a half-kneeling position and threw out a chain. The chain wrapped around his opponent's blade, and he slammed it out, pulling the broadsword out of his opponent's palm.

The broadsword landed on the nearby snow, and Silas pounced, his eyes full of longing.

He was overjoyed and picked up his broadsword...... A sharp pain burned through his body.

Freena shook her head at the idiot. Only Iceborn can pick up the Ice Weapon. Anyone else, no matter who it is, is a death sentence.

The Gentile let go of his winter sigh and could only cry out and let the cold creep up his hands. He fell to his knees, clutching his arm, but couldn't stop it from freezing. Zhen Bing's killing power began to manifest from his hands, and was gradually spreading along his arms and towards his heart.

"Is this also God's will?" Freina pointed at the Gentile and gave a contemptuous mockery.

Shamanka looked angry, but said nothing.

"But then again, God is cruel." Freina shrugged her shoulders and added, "Maybe God just wanted him to suffer?" ”

Brockwal retrieved Winter Sigh, unscathed, sword in hand. The Gentile stared up at him, his face full of pain and bewilderment, the deadly power of the ice had consumed him.

"Give him a treat." Freena ordered.

Brockwal's resolute gaze looked at their shaman's card, seeking her approval. Freina was furious.

"If God is going to save him, let them intervene directly."

Solva served and honored the old gods of Freljord, but she never claimed to know the will of the gods. She also rarely saw gods interfering directly in mundane matters.