The heavy snow lasted for three days and three nights, and there was no sign of stopping. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 The view on the main highway was disturbed by snowfall, and the visibility was less than 100 yards, and the soldiers wrapped in thick bearskin cloaks could only advance slowly and cautiously, and could not walk more than seven leagues in a day. They stepped deep and shallow in the snow, their frozen hook axes swaying irregularly, occasionally crashing into their approaching companions, followed by a burst of impatient curses and shouts from officers.

Frey rode a frost wolf the size of an icefield bear, awkwardly walking at the front of the group. His hands clutched the frostwolf's gray-white mane, and he straightened his back to adjust to the bumps on the wolf's back, stiff as a statue of the dragon.

"I guess your waist is about to break, sir. Said the lady who was also riding a frost wolf alongside Frey.

Frey silently looked down at the frostwolf, whose name was Baron, and he was not yet three years old. During the Battle of Ice's End, Frey lost Sonya and Sunny one after another, and his stables could not find horses worthy of dukedom in his territory - not only war horses, but also ceremonial mounts. The new leader of the "Kuware", who had been reconvened by Frey, presented to the Duke the Frostwolf of excellent blood, the Baron, the son of the famous Frostwolf King "North Wind", as a sign of loyalty.

At the beginning of New Couvare's assembly at Ice's End, Frey refused to accept the Baron, and this "big friend" with hair harder than the leaves of the iron pine tree would jump up and down in the stables as soon as he arrived at Ice's End, frightening all the horses, and some cowards who had escaped from under the claws of the velociraptor had diarrhea at the smell of the baron, and even several good horses collapsed and died. The servant in charge of the baron's care explained to Frey: "He is still young, and curiosity about new circumstances and things is inevitable, which does not prevent him from growing into a heroic combat companion." Still, Frey was reluctant to ride the new mount, which was so kind to him.

Until the departure of the Ice's army, Edney instructed Frey every morning to learn how to steer the baron. She said that the frostwolf was to Kuvare what a hound was to a hunter, a magistrate was to a wealthy merchant, and a sword was to a swordsman, and that this affection far overcame ordinary friendships and interests, and that the new Kuvare was the most loyal and powerful armed force under Frey, and that the baron, who had always been reluctant to get close to humans, had a good opinion of Frey, and that Frey should treat him well. In order to gag Idney's mouth, Frey reluctantly follows Kuvalé's "chief huntress" Lady Kutara to learn the art of manipulating the frostwolves, but he never gets the hang of it.

"Take it easy, my lord. With your waist resting naturally on the saddle, Frostwolf won't throw you to the ground like a frightened foal. As she spoke, Lady Kutara patted her mount's neck to bring it closer to the Baron, and then reached out and stroked the Baron's mane, who immediately turned back to her in protest with his teeth bared. "You see, my lord, the Baron is so repulsive to men, not even his father's master, and yet willingly to be your mount, it is the choice of fate. Ms. Kutara continued.

"Ahem, ahem. Frey covered his mouth and coughed symbolically twice, then pointed with his other hand to the burned village by the roadside and asked, "How many are these?" At the same time, the baron playfully leaped over the trunk of the dead tree that stood in the way, causing Frey to grab it by the ear.