The Quaid's parched throat was quickly filled with melted snow, with the cold sweetness of the icefield, and the clear water woke Riga from his trance-like dream. Raising his arm, which was in pain like a break, the hunter handed Gal the water bladder, which had been lightened by half. Then he turned around with difficulty, his eyes fixed on the ground, keenly able to see every snowflake.

The two warriors carrying the stretcher had stopped, allowing the Quaid's feet hanging from the stretcher to easily touch the ground. As if the bones had been cut by a sharp blade, Riga who stepped on the ground shook violently, resisting the pain that came from the depths of his soul, shaking and finally standing up straight. Twisting his neck weakly, the hunter looked down at his body as his bones made a crisp 'click' sound.

The cloak was covered with a large patch of coagulated dark black lion blood, and the Quid had a sackcloth bandage on his left arm and leg. Crimson blood oozed from the wound, like a red wildflower blooming in a dream, blooming in linen with pale brownish yellow stripes.

"The Fury is up, where is this?" said the Quaid in an extremely weak voice, his lips shaking hard.

"God willing, we've just left where we're camping. Gal hung the leather on the belt inside the cloak, and as he wrapped the cloak, he said vaguely. He had two slender scars on his face that had been scratched by the lion, but fortunately there were strong blood scabs. "Look, it's just the sun now. The bitter cold from the Black Moon has not yet fully receded. ”

Slowly raising his head, Riga looked at Estel as he shimmered in the east, and finally shifted his gaze to the blue sky like the surface of an alpine lake. There were many large clouds in the sky, gray clouds of a blizzard, which rolled southward like ghosts with fangs and claws, and reminded the Quaids of Rabiel's request in their dreams—that the druids had asked him to retrieve the ornaments on his ears, the three slender earrings that had not been crushed.

"Can you still tell the direction of the woods?" the Quaid asked again, the power of the bloodlines that quickly recovered in his body made his voice louder and thicker. "I mean the forest that kills the cave lions. ”

"Of course, it's not far in front of us. The warriors climbed up from the passage again, killed the cave lions that attacked me and Paul, and dragged you back from the snow. Hirag is supreme, I couldn't believe you were still alive. Gal flinched uncontrollably, a light of fear and awe radiating from his blue pupils. "The place where the team camped last night was the Cave Lion's Den, and although it was scratchy and smelly, it was large enough and unusually warm. ”

Sensing the awe of Gal and the people around him, Rega puffed out her cheeks and swallowed the next question back to her mouth. Feeling that most of his strength had regained, the hunter took a few steps forward, and after making sure that he was able to read, he signaled to Gal to speed up.

The Cave Lion's Den is really not far from the battlefield, not even an hourglass away. The Quaid team soon reached the devastated forest. No wonder they were attacked by lions, so close to the lair's lair. Rega muttered inwardly, and walked quickly into the forest of corpses and blood.

The newly paved white snow is dotted with the gray furs of more than a dozen cave lions, like raisins sprinkled on a cream cake. The beasts, mutilated by the furious power of the Quaids, lay haphazardly on the snow, and the only thing that could be found throwing lion's blood was a tree trunk painted in dark red. It's just that in the cold wind, the blood has already turned into the most bewitching red ice.

Even though the snow had buried the battlefield, the Quaid warriors could still see the brutality of the battle in the mangled corpses. The strong smell of blood lingered here, making the Quaid people who were walking in the forefront sniffle. He walked to the middle of the woods, following his memory to the place where he had woken up for the last time.

The predators who had come out of the night had dragged most of the carcasses and swallowed more or less the pieces of flesh, but the druid, who had fallen in the very center, had not suffered any damage, except for the snow that was less than half a foot high around him. He remained the same as Riga had left, but the blood and pus from the hideous, ugly scars on his chest had been frozen into ice.

The Quid covered his nose with the thick stench, and then he slowly approached, and with a solemn expression, he reached out and removed the three precious ornaments from the druid's ear, wiped them gently, and placed them in the skin pouch around his waist. Fingers pressed through the deerskin, the bumpy touch made Riga sure they were in his pocket.

The surrounding clansmen began to quickly collect the spoils of war. Together, they pulled out the hard corpses buried in the snow, looked for the cave lions that were still intact after their deaths, skinned them, and some even cut clean pieces of flesh from them to feed them for the rest of the journey.

Gal soon followed in the footsteps of the Quaid and saw the strange corpse. "Who is this?" asked Riga's friend with his mouth wide open with surprise in his eyes. "He has elven pointed ears, but he also has a long beard that that that race doesn't have. The stench pouring from the cursed wound made Gar shut his mouth and quickly took a few steps back to swallow the next question.

"It's a strange guy who says he's a druid, a warrior who can turn into a cave lion. The Quaid hesitated for a moment, but finally told the truth.

"Turning into a cave lion?" said Gal, who couldn't make the connection between the emaciated corpse in front of him and the strong, massive brown beasts beside him. He looked at the hunter with questions, and after getting an affirmative answer from Riga's face, he immediately picked up a twig and threw it on the druid's corpse.

"Hurry up and cremate his body. Sacrifice him to the gods he serves. Gal spoke quickly to the Quaid's ear. "You should keep some secrets, at least not let these people get to the tribe. Rega heeded Garr's advice, and he dragged dead branches from the surrounding trees for a rudimentary funeral for the druid.

When the dark yellow flames consumed everything they could burn, extinguished in the low temperatures created by the melting snowflakes, the Quaid warriors set out on their way to the depths of the ice field. Next, they must quickly reach the former Terran camp, which was set ablaze by the red-robed mage in the northernmost hunting grounds of the tribe, and in prayer to the gods, find clues to the Terran mercenaries.

"Fury bless!" the Quid man, wrapped in a new brown cloak, roared in the cold wind, excited by the new power that had emerged in his body. "We will defeat the aliens and sacrifice their filthy blood and souls to the gods. ”