"I will follow the will of the furious. "Riga obeys the sorcerer's divination, as it is said to be a decision made by the gods. "Those Terran mercenaries who have broken into the ice will fall under my sword, and they will test with their lives the fate of offending the dignity of the frost bear. With that, the hunter lifted the gray wolfskin cloak that covered his waist and thighs, and pulled the weapon with a dull metal reflection from the slender bullskin sword belt.

With the muffled words of the Guquid in his mouth, the wizard slowly stretched out his bone staff, and pressed the smooth reindeer skull at the top to the body of the sword, which was distributed with a few snowflakes, and let it softly slash through the cold blade. "In the name of the gods, bless you and bless you. Slay the dastardly blasphemers, douse their bodies with their blood, and make them fear the Fury and your name. ”

When the sorcerer's blessing was over, Riga thrust his iron sword back into its scabbard and bowed back to make room for another warrior, Paron.

As before, the sorcerer also prayed to the warrior who had gone to reclaim the camp. Brush the blade of his weapon with a bone staff, blessing it with powers that mortals do not see, and which are said to come from the great gods.

The young magician, who had completed two blessings, was very satisfied with the fair contest so far, but the next assignment made him grit his teeth and grit the bone staff in his hand, and let out a snort in his nose. Because the chief had no intention of distributing the helpers equally between the two.

The chief sent a confidant in his place. The tall warrior with a long black beard had a big, shiny bald head, and in the frantically screaming cold wind, the uncrowned warrior stood in the clearing as if he didn't feel the cold. The cloak was blown up and dropped by the strong wind, and finally simply clinged to his body.

"According to the chief, every good leader is surrounded by loyal followers. Therefore, everyone involved in this battle will be free to choose the fighters to follow. The bald-headed warrior shouted, his voice hoarse and low.

"It's Ruger. Gar, who had come out of the room and had been following Riga closely, whispered. He is said to have torn two Terrans apart alive in battle, but at the cost of a scar on his throat, his voice became hoarse. ”

"Plus, the chief once saved his life. Gal finally added. "So he's absolutely as loyal and murderous as Spardine's hound. ”

In front of such a powerful warrior, no one would oppose the chieftain's decision, not even the wizard next to him. He knew that this was actually the chief's conspiracy, and even if he knocked down the bald head in front of him, this distribution would not change because of this.

The Quaid warriors, who were already fighting blood, did not know how many enemies were left behind in the camp and out, so they chose based on who they knew more and who they admired more.

In fact, with the exception of the warriors and their relatives who survived the new year's trial of adulthood, the rest of the clan was more optimistic about Paloon. This was not only because he possessed a level 5 of great strength, but more importantly, the head of the tribe hiding behind him, the wounded chief.

Half of the six dozen warriors stood behind Paron, causing the brown-haired young warrior to shake his shoulders. While throwing off the snowflakes piled on his body, the corners of his mouth grinned proudly. Unlike the noisy and chaotic formation behind the Chief's Son, Riga was surrounded by fewer than two dozen warriors. Most of these warriors are new adults, and they admire this snow ape hunter who has completed a 'miracle' in the trial. The people who were still waiting finally chose the hunters more often, because most of them were true samurai who longed to fight, and the others who still chose Palong were nothing more than cowards.

When the distribution ended, Paloon had a dozen more helpers than Riga, but the hunter did not lose confidence. He was confident that he would defeat his enemies in battle while cutting off the head of the Terran mage and returning home. Thinking of the mage who had smashed the tribe's gate in half with lightning and lightning, Riga immediately raised his right hand, which was tucked into his cloak, and reached through the gap in his fur coat, touching the dragonskin armor that was still on his body. This was the only way he could defeat a terrestrial mage.

In the face of the blizzard that fell from the sky, the two teams immediately squeezed out of the city gate, and then quickly separated. Paron was able to follow the road to the fortress to reach the camp, but Riga and his companions had to go in the other direction. Only by passing through the vast ice forest at the back of the fortress could they find a path to the place where the red-robed mage had once been stationed, blocking the direction of the Terran mercenaries.

The increasing amount of wind and snow made it extremely difficult to get there, and standing at the front of the group, Riga couldn't even see ten yards away. The snow on the ground was as soft as boiled poutante puree, and it could sink into the small half of the leg when you stepped down. But all the warriors in the team did not complain, their hearts were filled with a thirst for revenge, and only by defeating the Terran mercenaries who had destroyed their homes and killed their people could they wash away the traces of shame and regrow the long, thick beard that was the symbol of the Quid people.

The cold wind howled on the flat ground like a whip wielded by the Ice Goddess, rolling up and dropping snowflakes flying in the sky, striking the warriors' hooded heads, as if to punish the Quaid for driving her beloved people back to the deepest depths of the ice field. At the same time, the increasingly strong wind hurts like a sharp boning knife. The cloak clung to the warriors under its influence, allowing the Quid to continue to blow away the last remaining warmth, making their bodies stiffer and stiffer.

The icy air pouring in from their mouths and noses made the Quaid warriors even more miserable, and the journey through a blizzard was a wasteful activity, but when the tired warriors tried to inhale a little more air, the tingling pain in their chests made them almost wail. Some of the weaker ones even began to stagger and move slowly.

Thankfully, the most violent of the blizzards had quickly passed, and when the snowflakes as wide as the tail feathers of the finches suddenly stopped, the Quaids realized that they had advanced more than an hourglass. The silver moon Norias, which had replaced the scorching sun, had risen from the east, casting a soft gauzy glow on the land, giving the Quid warriors a moment of peace.

At the request of several fighters, Riga finally agreed to their rest. The violent wind and snow really consumed too much physical strength of the Quaids, and even the hunters with the power of strong blood in their bodies felt tired. As the team slowly entered a cedar forest, many Quaid warriors immediately took out their fur backpacks and threw them on the ground without opening them. Several weakened fighters even began to vomit on their stomachs on the ground, spitting out saliva with ice and blood from their mouths.

ps: Since some book friends said it, I'll explain. If you run in the winter, you can feel the stinging pain coming from your lungs when you inhale hard, and in more severe cases, you will have blood foam and blood streaks in your throat. Therefore, it should be completely reasonable for the Quaids to have lung pain and vomit blood due to inhaling cold air.