After a few bites of the cold bread left over from last night, Vicol, who was anxious and still had not recovered from the shock, hurriedly changed into the pure white cotton clothes and prepared to go out. Fastening the saber at his waist to his belt, he was in a trance, thinking about the question he had just thought about.

To be able to freeze the sea as the legend says, it must be the work of the Black Ice Death of the Dark Glacier. But if so, then why didn't it do it until now? Could it be that it had just awakened and lacked strength? Or had some kind of seal that limited its strength broken? Or was it deliberately done for some purely observational purpose? Or maybe it would have cost him a great deal of power to do so. So it intends to take a blockade after the onslaught fails?

In short, this kind of thing happened just the day after the failed attack of the corrupt army, which has to make people suspicious that there is some conspiracy in it. Under a series of artificially complicated speculations, Vicol only felt farther and farther away from what could have been an incomparably simple reality: although this nonsensical speculation could not deduce the truth that was necessary to achieve victory as an important information and a breakthrough, he could not leave these lingering thoughts behind.

Too many questions and possibilities are in front of the suspicious Snow Crow, gradually eroding his judgment and sanity. He felt frustrated that even if he stood up now and said that the group of corruptors yesterday was purely for them to die and sacrifice to the Black Ice Reaper power, he would probably consider it seriously.

Fastening the belt and buttons on his coat, Vicol subconsciously pinched the snow crow emblem that he was proud of and symbolized glory, and the sense of mission welled up in his heart, calming him down a little. The words of Mistress Mace, who had brought him the emblem with his own hand, echoed in his ears, and Vicor knew that they were just immutable, meaningless clichés, but he was still extremely proud: at least Mistress Mace appreciated my brother...... And me.

I'm the elite of the Sentinels...... To prove it, I've been doing a lot lately to make myself worthy of this title...... Now that I've made a lot of achievements, I finally deserve the emblem that should have belonged to my brother Videl, right? When I first got this badge, I didn't feel much excitement and pride other than excitement and pride. But now, the feelings it brings to me are very complicated. Even, the snow crow began to wonder if there was a life behind this glory that he longed for.

Recalling what the lord had said, the snow crow sighed heavily, shook his head vigorously to dispel the nostalgia for his brother, and randomly began to feel confused again: I don't know what I'm doing anymore. Even, what are you doing all this for?

There was no doubt that he cared about the well-being of Neverwinter. However, he always felt that his deepest motivation did not come from here. So is this house, all these praises and glories, the trust of the lords?

Or ...... Obsessed with the memorial of his brother who pursued the Snow Raven Emblem but died before his dream was about to come true, getting it is also a small dream that Vicor has always had, but there is always only one wish in his heart: to live with his brother Videl on the seashore of Beihaiwang, and to blow the sea breeze together every day. Even though his brother himself was already in the ground, Vicol was stubborn in his desire to carry on all his last wishes, including the crow emblem, which was so heavy with emotion.

In order to calm his emotions, Vicol grabbed the carved pipe on the table with a trembling hand and held it to his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he subconsciously clenched his mouth. The pipe shook and shook, exposing the snow crow's nervousness.

Feeling out the matchbox in his coat pocket, he pulled out one restlessly, but he couldn't burn it several times because of the trembling of his hands. Finally lit it and sent it to the mouth of the bucket, but Vicor waited absent-mindedly for a long time, until the match burned to his fingertips, and realized one thing because of the pain: he had forgotten to fill it with tobacco.

Hurriedly shaking off the flames, Vicor trampled them out in frustration and pulled out the bag of tobacco that Dr. Ennis had given him from his bosom. As if all was not going well, it took him a few more minutes to fill the tobacco smoothly.

Finally getting his wish to light his pipe, Vicol immediately took a greedy deep inhale, causing the soft smell of tobacco to gradually spread in his mouth, and his overheated brain gradually calmed down. After a few moments of choking on too much inhalation, the snow crow coughed awkwardly for a while before relieving himself.

Damn, black ice can bring bad luck...... Cursing and tightening his hood, Vicol's gaze involuntarily fell on the snow crow insignia on his chest. Sighing, he grabbed it and shoved it back into his underwear: it had temporarily lost the cold texture of metalwork that had been clinging to the flesh for a long time.

The outpost should know about what happened here right away, so I shouldn't need to inform them...... Thinking about these things, Vicol pushed open the door of the house and walked out into the street in a state of anxiety after being confused by the snow blowing up the steps.

Striding to the crowded docks, Vicol looked around restlessly, but found not a single gap that would bring him close to the ice. Everywhere was crowded with frightened and curious townspeople, and new people were constantly arriving from afar just to catch a glimpse of the sea frozen in black ice.

The few guards, despite their equal fear of the black ice beneath the crossing, had to stiffen their thighs to evacuate the crowd. Soon, with the flow of people, the remaining twenty or so guards in the entire town came to the bay and participated in the evacuation work. However, after all, there was a shortage of manpower, and only about three people were assigned to each pier.

With great effort, they managed to prevent the crowd from approaching the dock, except for the crew and the porters of the rescue supplies. However, the more these bastard residents were prevented from passing, the more their curiosity was aroused to come forward and watch.

Under the wooden planks of the pier, black ice emitting thick black smoke can be faintly seen. Guards helped people ashore with their legs so frightened that they didn't get off the boat, while others wept bitterly at their relatives and friends who had fallen into the sea and were frozen in the black ice. In the gap between the docks, a person-high black smoke slowly rose into the sky, attracting everyone's attention. Looking at their expressions, Vicol guessed their thoughts: if they were touched by black smoke, would they be corrupted?

The people who move the goods are obviously extra cautious about this. They walked side by side in a row of two at most, as close to the middle as possible and away from the smoke.

Looking at the black "ocean", Vicol was shocked and suddenly had an idea: Is it possible to break the ice?