"From this day forward, you are a slave of the great Earl Haradson!"

At night, the Viking town is bitterly cold, and in the wooden houses, a fire burns to provide warmth to the whole large house.

The silent night was nothing but the crackling of the fire, the crunch of the big bed next door and Nina's high-pitched moaning.

I don't know what Haraldson used to break his wife apart tonight, so that he and Nina could indulge here.

Balin lay numb on the improvised bed, oblivious to the noise next door. The Count did not have much wealth here, and the whole house was not half the size of Bahrain's residence in the Golden Garden. As a result, Bahrain, a slave of seemingly humble status, was actually only a wall away from his master's room.

The sentence of the day has been echoing in Bahrain's mind. Became a slave himself, a great wizard became a slave to mortals? How could it be? But that's the way it is.

Once a wizard loses his sorcery, he can't even beat a woman. Maybe that's the price, right?

Bahrain's thoughts drifted when suddenly the door opened. Naked, topless, Earl Haradson was wrapped in a blanket and followed by Nina, who was only wrapped in a sackcloth around her chest. The woman's face still had a blush of passion.

The forty-year-old earl stood at the door with a smile on his face and looked at his wizard captive: "The night is long, do you want to join us?"

Nina let out a heart-wrenching laugh from the sidelines.

Bahrain raised his head in a daze, looked at the woman's slender legs, beautiful collarbones, and delicate face, and felt a restlessness in his lower body. Suddenly, he remembered Nina's advice during the day, and his restless heart was immediately poured a basin of cold water on his head.

Shaking his head expressionlessly, he turned to his side and fell asleep facing the wall.

Haradson smiled, "You can't enjoy life, boring wizard!"

The two left, and the door slammed shut.

Balin opened his eyes again and meditated hard, trying to undo the chains of witchcraft. Unfortunately, the Wizard's Heart remained unresponsive.

"What should I do? No witchcraft, no rescue, what should I do? Do I want to die alone here?" Bahrain held his head and began to sobb silently.

The Vikings who lived in Norman Bay would cross the mountains every year to the temple in Bornholm to make sacrifices, where they would sacrifice cattle and sheep and even perform human sacrifices. On the one hand, they were influenced by the messians, but the messianic priests of the developed Anglo regions rarely went to the savage Viking regions to preach, so they retained their primitive religious worship.

In the early morning, the Vikings carried their luggage and food with their families and mouths.

The tossing and turning wizard was called up early in the morning and began to help the Count and his family pack their belongings. In the face of people's fingers, Bahrain just kept his head down and did his own thing in silence.

Struggling to carry the Haraldsons' luggage, Balin followed the team step by step with his waist and a wooden stick in his club. Even the rugged and difficult mountain roads can be very difficult for a wizard like Balin, not to mention carrying a large bag.

Looking at the wizard who was struggling to walk, some of the people in the crowd began to let out unbridled mockery. Earl Haraldson, who was walking in front, occasionally glanced back at his new slave, and only shook his head in disappointment. Such a slave is really of no use at all.

Of course, wizard slaves naturally have the use of wizard slaves, and I believe that the priests in the temple will like it very much.

Bahrain was silent, keeping his head down, and he took the next step step by step. After a night of tossing and turning, what did he think? Did he ever feel that everything was a punishment for the original crime?

If fate can choose, how will he choose to stand at a crossroads?

If he can confess while alive, can he uncover the truth in the face of public trial?

He didn't know that maybe what he was experiencing now was just for his own redemption.

The temple sits on a hill, and the Vikings scattered throughout the ice fields come one after another at this time, and the forest path leading to the temple is full of figures. Some tired people rested under the roots of the trees, and some men and women who were interested immediately fought in the open air.

Bahrain walked at the back of the line wheezing with their luggage on their backs, and some half-grown children walked behind Bahrain. Vikings were generally tall, and many of these sixteen or seventeen-year-olds were taller than Bahrain. Walking behind Bahrain from time to time trying to tease this extremely rare slave.

But the silence in Bahrain gradually disinterested the children and began to discuss the nightly bonfires. According to many of the older brothers, the night bonfire extravaganza will be a feast of indulgence. Many young people gave their first time here.

The mountain road is not very long, and there is an old temple standing halfway up the mountain. More than a dozen monks with strange facial tattoos stood quietly on either side of the temple gate, dressed in wide robes and with their hands hidden in their sleeves.

The devotees who came walked up to the monks with gifts and offered some poultry, game, salted fish, and so on with their hands. The monks took them one by one, and the offerings were taken to the back of the temple. The Vikings who were enshrined stepped into the temple with solemn expressions.

Dozens of stone pillars stand in the temple hall, each with a face carved into it. These faces are said to be the gods who dwell in the temple of Valhalla. The Vikings walked past each pillar with a solemn expression and prayed to the gods sincerely. Some young parents whisper legends of each deity to their children.

Balin silently followed in the Count's footsteps, watching their prayers with a cold expression. The red-haired countess whispered to Balin, "Wizard, don't you have any wishes?"

"Yes, but I don't pray to other beings, I just believe in my own beliefs," Barin said in a dry voice.

"Sure enough, wizards don't believe in gods!" the countess nodded in understanding. He then continued to pray to Love for a full house of children and grandchildren.

Bahrain followed its owner like a walking corpse, and the people circled around the temple and returned to the gate. Not far below the temple, a group of people were cleaning an altar.

The Vikings were so superstitious about the power of blood that the priests slit the throats of their animals with daggers and spilled the blood on the altars. Blood flowed down the altar and pooled into streams across the land.

The people of the county of Haradson gathered around the altar and sang the hymn to the sacrifice: "More, give me more, give me more." If I had a heart, I would love you, and if I had a voice, I would sing. I will wake up in the dark night, looking forward to what tomorrow will bring me. I...... I...... I...... If I had a heart, I would sing......"

Balin also followed the Count to the altar. The sacrifice of the animal had been completed, and a black-labred priest turned his head to look at Bahrain, causing Bahrain to suddenly feel a tingling in his scalp.

Is it to make a living sacrifice with yourself?

Bahrain was so frightened that his hair stood on end, cold sweat shot out in an instant, and his heart beat faster in an instant. Watching the strange monk walk towards him with a long knife in both hands, Balin's teeth couldn't help but tremble. It's a pity that his feet are weak for a while, so he can't even take a small step.

It's over, is this the price?