Fear comes from the unknown, the shadow latent in the dark abyss accidentally opens its eyes and glances at the ups and downs of the world, like looking at an ant, without any emotional color.

Standing in front of the cliff with the deep rift at his feet, Ivan stared into the abyss, and in the bottomless darkness seemed to be a pair of scarlet and evil eyes watching him. The bottom of the unknown valley shrouded in gloom and fog, and the rustling sound, there seemed to be something huge moving.

A two-foot-wide beam spanned either side of the cliff, and the wind from the rift rose into the air and staggered. Walking on such a single-plank bridge is like walking on the edge of hell.

On the other side of the rift was a stowed suspension bridge, exaggerated wide enough to accommodate dozens of people walking side by side across the bridge, with gray-white deer skulls hanging at the very top of the drawbridge, hollow eye sockets watching Ivan's arrival.

"I really didn't expect that since the Vikings entrenched in Alassas were driven to such a wilderness hundreds of years ago, they still need to rely on a natural danger to stop the advance of the Holy Crusade. Were you scared out of that war hundreds of years ago?"

Ivan took off his hood, and a mockery hung on his lips, and he had heard about the Vikings before from his father, Frederick. At that time, Alassas was still a holy city in the hearts of the Vikings. Until the coveted Pope of Alassas was crushed by a brutal crusad, the Vikings, who were far inferior to the Holy Byzantium, had to be defeated and driven all the way to the northern cold.

It was only later that the army responsible for chasing down the remnants of the Vikings suddenly disappeared, and the clergy of the Holy See sent to find the whereabouts remained silent after returning, and finally the matter of the Pope ordering the silence became a mystery in everyone's minds.

Halfway through the narrow drawbridge, the rift began to shake, the gravel on the cliff falling into the abyss, and the sound of the stone walls rubbing against unknown giants, hoarse, low roars came from the deep valley, accompanied by some kind of hungry longing.

Just a few hundred meters away from Ivan, there was an altar on top of a high cliff obstructed by wind and snow, and on top of the altar, a large shaman wearing a deer skull and a patchwork of birds and animal fur was directing several people to erect the bracket.

A slave was tied to the scaffold, and he looked at the far-reaching, terrified expression.

At this time, the shaman raised the sharp knife in his hand, the cold blade pressed against the slave's skin, and then slashed towards the slave's back with a little force.

Blood splattered.

The pain in his back sent the slave to a desperate scream, fear and wailing echoing through the rift.

And the indescribable giants at the bottom of the valley seemed to respond to the desperate cries of the slaves, and the low roar turned into a roar that pierced the sky.

The sharp knife cut through the slave's muscles, exposing the ribs behind his back. The slave tried to struggle, but the rope tightened his hands and feet, and the fierce resistance rubbed a visible streak of blood.

The knife cut the ribs where they connected to the spine, then grabbed the ribs and lifted them backwards with all his might, and even more terrible screams echoed through the valley, and the sleeping unknown thing at the bottom of the valley seemed to be lifted up by the screams of the slaves, and the whole valley appeared to shake the earth.

The birds perched on the trees flapped their wings in horror and took to the air. It was as if they sensed some kind of terrifying threat approaching, and a restless sound could be heard from the mountains and forests.

By this time Ivan had crossed the single-plank drawbridge and stood on the territory of the Vikings. At this time, the slave also completed the final process, breaking the twenty-four ribs that turned out to make him look like a flying blood eagle.

The ancient sacrificial rites of the Vikings, bloody and brutal.

"Go, go and be the sacrifice of the servant of the King of God, which has grown hungry and thirsty, and we offer sacrifices to appease the restless heart of the servant of God. ”

At this time, the slave's eyes were hollow, his pupils were dilated, and he had already lost his soul. The shaman told the others to push the corpse into the abyss, along with the stakes.

Ivan watched as the poor fellow looked like a flying blood eagle, slicing an arc through the air, and then plummeting straight down into the abyss.

At this time, a loud noise finally came from the abyss, like the roar of some kind of giant beast, and the clouds in the sky were swept away.

And Ivan finally saw the truth hidden under the fog of the dark abyss.

First a tiny dot, then a tiny dot in his eyes, and finally a huge shadow that covered the entire valley.

The dark abyss is shaking and roaring, and the sleeping monster of the valley is finally about to reveal his terrible voice.

A large red worm erected its body hundreds of meters high, reaching out to him with a pale and sticky tip. Dense sharp teeth appear in a spiral shape and are spread throughout the mouthparts. It had no eyes, only a large mouth with a thick, disgusting mucus flowing between its sharp teeth.

The giant worm writhed its fat body frantically and leaped to its feet, grinding against the rock wall with a loud bang. It dispersed the mist that permeated the valley.

The sacrificial slave was impartial and fell into the mouth of a giant worm's black hole.

After swallowing the best of the sacrifice, the worm turned its head and looked at Ivan's place, a behemoth-like servant and a tiny man, in a silent staring.

There was still a wriggling sound at the bottom of the dark valley, and no one could see how big the monster really was. It's just that the worm stared at him, but it was a little jealous.

"Macrophages worms. ”

"So you really exist. ”

With just one glance, the huge monster seemed to smell a hint of uneasiness, became uneasy, turned its head and looked into the abyss, and quickly drilled down. There was a deafening sound throughout the valley, as if it was facing fear.

The canyon regained its calm, as if nothing had been left of what had just happened.

The ritual of sacrifice was over, and when Ivan turned around, he found himself surrounded by a group of tall and majestic Viking warriors, armed with axes and greatswords, with a series of human skull ornaments hanging from their waists, and looking at Ivan as he broke into their forbidden place through the gap in his helmet adorned with antelope horns.

They had a strong hatred for all the foreigners, yet Ivan turned a blind eye to what they were doing.

"Take me to your tribal chief. ”

Ivan said undauntedly, "I'm going to make a deal with you. ”

The Vikings didn't move, and Ivan frowned impatiently, he had wanted to use some means to get the other party to submit.

"Don't look for it, I'm their tribal elder. ”

As soon as Ivan finished speaking, he saw an elderly man who was not tall in the crowd, and everyone consciously took a step to the side to make way for him.

A red beard obscured the lower half of his face, and his arms were covered with scars from the battlefield.

A clearly visible scar remained on his face, and the old man had lost one eye. With the support of the shaman just now, he walked up to Ivan step by step.

The old man looked at him vigilantly and said, "Who are you?"

Ivan took off his hood and answered directly in the face of the vigilant old man in front of him.

"A savior who will keep you Vikings from hiding in the northern frozen tundra. ”