The skin rolls, which also carried the body temperature of a hunter, began a strange change under the lure of blood. In the faint fluctuation of divine magic, the ancient Quid script written by the great wizard Kennell Frostbear began to writhe as if it had come to life. The dark cyan ink, which had been prepared for some reason, dispersed and agglomerated on the yellow-brown ancient animal skin, and finally formed clear lines of text, which slowly fixed down.

About three hourglass hours later, Riga was suddenly awakened by the sound of a dog barking violently from outside the house. The silence of the tribe was finally broken at daybreak, and the jolting of the animals, the noisy footsteps, and the shouts of the people continued to come from the ground, causing the hunter to sit up from his fur in distress.

"Riga, Riga!" squinted his eyes and poured some hot water from the bronze pot hanging from the fire, and a familiar call rang out from outside the house as the hunter gulped his chapped lips to swallow the hot water.

The hunter shook his head, and walked to the wooden tethered door from the inside of the house with a continuous, steady thud. The noise woke Daddy Thorne, who was lying inside, and the old soldier woke up from his sleep and rolled over in comfort.

"You'd better be able to find a good excuse. Pulling the bolt off and tossing it to the ground, Riga quickly pulled the door open, staring at Gardau, who had almost fallen into the cabin with half-open blurred eyes.

"God willing, Rigga. Ignoring the hunter's threat, Gal staggered forward a few steps with a wheezing, but quickly regained his balance. "The chief has returned with the warriors who had gone out on the march. ”

Smoothing out the fur at the doorway that was shielded from the cold wind, Riga blew hot air into his palms as he walked over to the awakened Father Thorne and asked, "Are they back?"

At the wizard's orders, Riga picked up an earthy yellow clay pot from the low, four-legged pine table, and took a handful of dry, ground grass powder from it and put it into a wooden cup. He poured in some hot water and brewed it into a cup of brown liquid with a pungent smell. "Daddy, here's your medicine for today. The wizard says you have to drink it. Cautiously holding the wooden cup to the old soldier's bed, the hunter lowered his voice as gently as he could.

"Oh! it's the damn potion again. The old soldier, whose face was visibly ruddy, muttered as he reached out and took the cup, then gritted his teeth and began to swallow the bitter potion. His Adam's apple trembled, and he tried to swallow the unpalatable herb. Under the watchful eye of Riga and Gal, the old warrior could only swallow the potion with a curse.

"Phew! Next time I'd rather cover my face in steaming bear dung. When he put down the wooden cup in his hand, the old soldier gasped for the air that seemed to have become bitter, and said with a sullen face.

"Are you alright?" asked Gal softly, leaning his face over with Rega on the side. But Daddy Thorne suddenly burped, letting the smell of bitter and sour herbs coming out of their stomachs hit their faces.

The two young warriors immediately fled to the other side of the hut. "What a bitter taste. Gal muttered with a frown, then approached the fire and put his hands to the wood to bake.

"The chief has just returned with those warriors, and it is said that they ambushed the Terran mercenaries who were about to return to the Duchy of Moulton, killing at least three dozen human warriors. Glancing back at the old soldier who had already begun to smoke his pipe in bed, Gal turned his face to say solemnly.

"Really?" Riga immediately became excited, "'Fury' bless, those who angered us have indeed borne the wrath of the gods. ”

They also captured a dozen Terran warriors, but sadly the red-robed mage and some of the soldiers ran away. Gar was equally excited, and he patted the hunter on the shoulder and said, "I heard that the chief will keep the captives and let those despicable human nobles ransom them with iron tools. That way, we'll soon be able to use weapons made of steel!"

"Did anyone see the red-robed mage run away?" asked Riga as she glanced at the fur holding the mage's head in the corner.

"I just heard it from a fighter. I don't know the specifics. Gal was stunned for a moment, spread his hands, and said.

Seeing Gar finish his words in a daze, Riga suddenly felt a move in his heart, and lay down in his companion's ear and whispered, "What about the wizard?

"Wizard? I didn't see it this morning, but the apprentice in the temple said that the wizard was still resting and couldn't take part in the current celebration. Giving the hunter a strange look, Gal asked with some curiosity. "You're going to the wizard?"

Thinking of what the wizard had said to him last night, Riga could only smile and explain, "Daddy's illness still needs to be treated by a wizard. ”

After chatting with Gal for a while, his father, Gus, arrives as well. In order to alleviate the boredom of Daddy Thorne, the old warrior plans to come and accompany this good friend every day.

Riga finally got a chance to leave, and after explaining it to the three of them, he immediately put on his cloak and came out of the hut with a fur wrap.

As soon as he left the room, the hunter immediately looked up at the blue sky as pure as a mirror with a finely polished gemstone. Riga raised his hand to put on the hood behind him, and then walked towards the north of the camp with his head down. Most of the Quaid had already rushed over to join in the chieftain's celebration, which allowed the hunter to easily pass through the shadows of the houses to reach the dead and silent house of the wizard like a graveyard.

"Open the door. The hunter wrapped his cloak and carefully walked through a row of fences to a gray gate made of heavy oak. He raised his hand and tapped it three times before he opened his mouth and shouted.

The occupants of the hut had apparently woken up, as the face of a wizard's apprentice was quickly peeking through the crack in the door. "God willing, the wizard has not yet woken up from his rest. If the chief has something to do, please wait a while. Because Rigga's face was covered by a hood, the apprentice spoke directly, politely with a cold rejection.

"It's me. Reaching out and pulling her hood down, Riga showed her coarse blond braids that reached only to her neck and her chin with only a little beard, "I want to see the wizard." ”

The apprentice obviously knew what the wizard valued the hunter, so he paused and said, "Please wait a minute, I'll go and inform the mentor." With that, the apprentice immediately closed the gap and ran inside. His leather boots slammed against the hard ground, and they went away with a 'thump' sound.

After about twenty breaths, the sound of the apprentice's footsteps came from the cabin again. He cautiously removed the plank that blocked the gap, confirming Rigga's presence before pulling open the bolt and letting the hunter in.

The wizard's house was still warm, and the burning badger oil gave it a strange scent. This flavor infused with special spices is said to make it easier for the wizard to access the consciousness of the gods, becoming a true magic caster, just like the ointment they put on their foreheads.

"You're here?" the wizard still sat in the basement, greeting as soon as he saw Riga. The old man's spirits seemed to be good, but the hunter could still make out the bloodshot in his eyes from the dim oil lamp.

"Didn't you rest?" asked Rega as she approached the old man in some surprise. "The tribe needs your presence. ”

Tossing the leather roll to the side of the table, the wizard wiped his withered hands over his black robes, and then his black nails reached out and pulled a terracotta saucer over it. This is one of the items that the Terran merchants trade with the Quid tribe. The slightly patterned dish contains some puree of potante fruit, and a little bit of heat is constantly mixed into the air.

"The old man doesn't need much time to rest. "I used a long-handled wooden spoon to dig up some puree and put it in my mouth. The strange-looking old man spoke vaguely. Although he used magic to keep his energy full, the wizard obviously didn't want the hunter to know.

After a moment in his throat, Riga spoke, "I've heard about the chief's victory, and this should be bad news. ”

"Of course, of course. The wizard nodded in agreement, his shriveled lips smacking the puree, "But you have no way back, you have been tied to me since the time these apprentices saw you last night." ”

"I don't regret it. Shrugging his shoulders with some sneer, Riga smiled wryly, "Do I look like that kind of person?"

As he spoke, the hunter removed the fur wrap from his belt and placed it on the table. "I have come to add a stone to the scales of your victory. ”

When he let go, the wrapped fur immediately slid down the corners, revealing the contents inside. It was a head, a head that belonged to the human race.

"Who is this?" Putting the puree to the other side without paying attention, the wizard's sunken eye sockets immediately stared at the skull. The low temperature on the ice field did not change much in the skin of the deceased, and he could even tell from the skull the horror and unwillingness of the human race before death.

"The red-robed mage. Four words came out of the Quaid's mouth, and the wizard was surprised.

"You can actually kill the mage of the Terrans?" Trembling and reaching out to pick up a few gem fragments that were also wrapped in fur and the broken green vines on the staff, the wizard briefly distinguished, and raised his tone, "And a sixth-level spellcaster." ”

"I don't know. The hunter held his breath tightly, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "Maybe it's just luck." ”

When Riga came out of the wizard's house again, he patted the iron sword hanging from his belt, and grinned a little. The cold wind still blew on his skin, but the hunter didn't care.

Slipping along the previous route to the middle of the tribe, Riga finally saw the chieftain and the captives he had captured with the warriors. About a dozen sturdy human warriors were kneeling in front of the well covered with stone slabs. They were dressed in thin clothing, and their leather armor and weapons had been removed. The men were still stained with blood on their faces, and several Quaid warriors were striking them mercilessly.

"Despicable Terrans, heretics!" "Son of a bitch!" all the Quaid warriors around them were full of vicious curses and insults, whether they were murderers of their people or not.

The hunter walked forward unconcernedly, but the appearance of a captive suddenly caught his eye.