The fire is blazing.

A rough hand grabbed a handful of snow and threw it into the fire.

Instead of extinguishing the flames, they rose for a moment, and then a huge, fat, thin, blood-dripping hind leg was lifted.

A simple grill made of four tree branches holds it secure, and the wind and snow blow on all sides, blowing grease everywhere. The aurora was still dazzling in the sky, the beasts in the woodland were still wandering, but a streamlined fighter plane had turned off its engine and stopped not far away.

It was a dissonant note that was completely out of place with two icefield elk tethered to the side of the wings, leisurely scraping the snow with their hind hooves for amusement. The light of the fire continued to dance, but no one spoke at the fire.

It's a strange thing, there are six people sitting here, but they all choose to be silent.

Until the owner of the big rough hand drew a knife with a wide blade and a cruel arc, the blade glittering, the grip shining like gold, and the lightning and eagle head shining misty at the ends of the gauntlet.

The hand tightened its grip on the knife and began to cut the hind leg. The firmness of the flesh makes it a pleasure to cut it, and the steel weaves through the sea of flesh, cutting it in layers like the prophets of the ancient myth of dividing the sea.

Every time I do it, the sea of red shakes. Blood flowed down the stream, dripping onto the fire, making it crackle. The fat spreads, the raw meat gradually cooks, and the tangy aroma of the meat begins to spread.

Björn withdrew his knife, plunged it into the snow, and clapped his hands.

"I didn't expect us to actually see you in person." He spoke slowly, as if with an exclamation, his voice deep and muffled, echoing through the darkness.

His voice seemed to contain magic, and it was clear that there was no roar, and even a very peaceful speech, but the beasts in the woodland, attracted by the seductive aroma, began to flee quickly, without looking back, lest they take a step slowly.

Birds leap from the branches, black shadows flicker through the trees, branches sway, snow and ice fall straight down the thick trunks of trees, like corpses thrown from a high place falling to the ground, creating a distant echo.

The sky was still misty.

"How the hell did you get back?" Bjorn asked sincerely, even pointing to the hunter who was sitting silently.

"This group of gloomy little cubs has been looking for a solution for ten thousand years under the leadership of Yago Savitarion, and you ended up in Fenris? Startorch above, I almost thought I was back in Terra when I saw you in heaven. ”

"Did you really leave?" Azek Ahriman asked without looking up.

With his head bowed, he was holding an unfinished book and was writing and drawing on it with a quill.

His lost eyes and the wind and snow did not seem to affect him in any way, and his handwriting was neat and beautiful, and even the spacing between the lines was mastered to the pinnacle of beauty, presenting an elegant beauty.

"I don't know, what about you?" Björn asked rhetorically. "Have you ever left?"

The blind man did not answer, but stopped his pen, closed the book, and put them in his backpack.

Lucas watched him closely, his eyes buried between the messy red hairs drifting to the other end of the fire. A man in a black robe sat there, his pale face expressionless, and the glow of a campfire reflected in his dark eyes.

However, just ten minutes ago, he was just a bloodied skeleton.

This stark contrast sparked a real fascination in Lucas's mind, forcing him to start working on it consistently, trying to get some clues to solve his current puzzle.

After all, he has too many problems to solve but he doesn't know one thing - too much curiosity often leads to nightmares.

The blind man sitting next to him had a very say in this matter.

Soon, in the aroma of oil, the world before Lucas's eyes took on some subtle changes

The sky turned from dark to bright, the snow began to melt in a violent tremble, the wind howled, and the sky was obscured by dark clouds. Huge scarlet eyes loomed behind the dark clouds, thunder rolled, and lightning struck instantly, cracking the ground and shattering glaciers.

The mountains wailed, the world died, and a wicked, dark deity cast a glimmer of sight at him.

Lucas's mind was completely stiff, and he could no longer react, he could only watch as the evil god stretched out his hands and grabbed at him—

- "Hello, young man. A hoarse voice said to him. When we first met, my name is Karil Lohals, what is your name? ”

Lucas stiffened his head, swallowed a mouthful of cold saliva, and opened his mouth with a sneer.

"Lucas, my lord, my name is Lucas."

"I don't have an official position, Valakil, so you don't have to call me that."

The man who called himself Carlil Lohals replied, but Lucas was stunned.

There are two reasons for this, one is that the language he answered in was Fenris, and it was in furnace language, which is an ancient language used by wolves to communicate with each other in their daily lives, and it is not known to outsiders, and can be used as an encrypted language.

As for the title of Valakil. The Fenris see wolves as the embodiment of the gods, and Valakir is their name for the wolves, which translates to Gothic for warriors of the gods.

At this moment of realizing this, Lucas's two hearts stopped beating instantly.

A wave of fear came over him, and his instinct began to roar loudly: he knew what he knew you were doing, he knew that you saw him for what he really was, that's why he used Valakir to laugh at you, he was going to kill you——!

Lucas took a deep breath, kept a smirk, and nodded without a trace.

"Whatever you want, my lord, I insist."

Carlil sighed and sat back down with considerable understanding.

The atmosphere around the fire fell silent, and everyone present was not stupid, even Ragnar Thunderfist, who was just as confused as Lucas, was vaguely aware of something.

But he didn't have time to do it now, he was staring at the hunter warily, and seemed to be extremely hostile to him. The hunter ignored him, and just sat still, looking like an ancient sculpture.

In the end, it was Bjorn who let out a loud laugh that broke the silence and the atmosphere that was gradually becoming awkward.

"I've finally found someone who can cure you, Lucas." The lone wolf sneered and wagged her finger at him. "I hope you can learn something from this."

Lucas bowed his head at him and replied sullenly, "I know that I will correct my mistakes, head wolf." ”

"I'm not a wolf." Björn said that his lush beard did not hide his smiling expression at the moment.

He stretched out his right hand from under his cloak, pulled out the knife in the snow, and began to cut meat again. Azek Ahriman tacitly took out a number of large wooden bowls from his backpack and handed them to Björn in turn.

The two worked together so well that as soon as Bjorn had finished cutting a portion of the meat, Ahriman would take the bowl and hand him a new one.

Although he was blind, he was able to accurately hand the wooden bowls full of boiled meat to everyone, and he received four thanks and a cold snort from Bjorn.

The lone wolf chattered and complained.

"Did I bring the meat, and I roasted it, or did you apologize to him for cutting it? It chills my heart! ”

"I have no intention of doing so, lone wolf!" Ragnar Thunder replied loudly, only to receive a chuckle from Bjorn.

He waved his hand and motioned for the young Bloodpaw to sit down. Ragnar blushed and sat down for some reason. Lucas chuckled and elbowed him, and with that annoying smile he showed why he was not welcome among the wolves.

"He's just kidding, boy."

Ragnar glared at him coldly and began to eat meat.

Björn sat down with a smile, picked up his wooden bowl, and gulped down a piece of meat, his eyes narrowing slightly as if satisfied. Seconds later, he asked, as if inadvertently, a question.

"Alright, let's eat. It's a pity I was in such a hurry that I forgot to bring my wine, otherwise I would have given you a taste of Fenris's wine, instructor. Ah, by the way, the Night King used to drink wine with Ruth, you know about that? ”

Carlil held the wooden bowl and bowed slightly, "They did drink together. That's why he's reminded me many times not to drink your Fenris's special wine. ”

Bjorn's narrowed eyes returned to normal, and he swallowed the piece of meat, his expression much soothed. He slowly lowered his head and said hoarsely, "I apologize." ”

"Why apologize?" Carlil asked rhetorically. "You obviously know me to some degree, and while I don't know where you got these impressions, you've probably heard of some of my quirks."

"You understand this, so you don't call me by honorifics. Well, I should understand you too, Bjorn. Your temptation is nothing, in fact, if I were you, I would arrange for the wolves to wait nearby. ”

Bjorn smiled awkwardly and raised his right hand invisibly in the eyes of Azek Ahriman's 'angry eyes', and the woodland was once again shaken, and many 'beasts' quickly left.

"Ahem—" The lone wolf coughed. "—Anyway, welcome back, Your Excellency the Instructor of the Eighth Legion."

"There are no legions anymore." Carlil shook his head. "You call me by it, I have no opinion, but the legion has been disbanded, and now is the time of the warband. Did the wolves break off from the warband? ”

Björn coughed again and scratched his head in embarrassment, "No." ”

"The situation with the wolves is a bit peculiar, instructor." Azek Ahriman pondered to speak for him. "Ruth's descendants are not well suited to spread across the galaxy, and Fenris's natural environment is both persecution and protection for them."

"Wolves need to walk with wolves, and even a lone wolf like Bjorn must stay with a blind man like me. Therefore, the wolves did not accept the split. It's true that they no longer call themselves Legion, but."

He stopped talking, and for some reason he seemed embarrassed. It was a long time before he finished speaking.

"Anyway, the wolves aren't very numerous these days. Fenris's harsh environment, surrounded by nearby enemies, and the nature of wild wolves, have not been able to recover to their peak for 10,000 years. I think Bjorn is at least half of the blame for that. ”

His words provoked a genuine glare, and Bjorn looked like he was almost throwing the bowl in his face.

"Why?" Carlil asked softly. "With so much going on in 10,000 years, you can't blame him for everything that has caused the wolves to attrition."

"That's it!" Björn shouted in agreement.

"I don't mean that, I just say it because I don't think he's taking his responsibility." Ahriman replied solemnly.

"He was qualified to be the head wolf, but he didn't. Even if everyone insisted that he be the head wolf, he repeatedly refused, stubborn like a donkey, I really don't understand why he had to fight against everyone. ”

"Where the did I everybody, you stinky blind!" Bjorn was furious. "You don't talk nonsense in front of him, reversing right and wrong! I'm not a wolf because—"

"-Because of what?" Ahriman asked. "Because you're afraid that you won't be able to do it yourself?"

Lucas and Ragnar opened their jaws and stared straight at them, forgetting to chew on the roast in their mouths.

With a sigh, Carlil took a piece of roast meat from his bowl and put it in his mouth. His 'mood' had gradually stabilized, and it had something to do with the chain he had personally put around his neck.

However, it is also possible that it is due to the snowstorm in Fenris. This world has some ancient connection to him, and the ancient faith of vengeance once came here

Somehow, the connection that should have made him even more manic inexplicably changed in nature, and it was so cold that it could even keep him to some sense.

It's one mystery after another. Carlil chewed the meat absentmindedly, failing to perceive any taste, his mind full of doubts.

His resurgence is one of the mysteries. The second mystery is that those fragments, which were obviously part of him, did not come alive with his resurrection. Not to mention Fenris, whose beliefs in turn influenced the gods themselves

Although it makes sense, and it can be done, Fenris's revenge belief is still very primitive, and it shouldn't have anything to do with him.

The gods of vengeance and hatred appeared in the physical universe 10,000 years ago, and the faith in Fenris lasted much longer than that.

It's amazing.

He swallowed the piece of meat, but it fell into the darkness. At the same time, the sky suddenly brightened, and five hundred meteors tore through the clouds, creating a brilliant meteor shower in Fenris's night sky.

Without a trace, Carlil put down the bowl and stood up.

"Perhaps." He pondered his words. "We'll have to move on to the rest of the business."

(End of chapter)