In his hasty escape, Silas quietly spent the end of summer and missed the last tenderness of early autumn.
When he wore a thick fur coat, carried a small luggage, climbed the Flying Dragon's Back Mountains, and finally arrived in the Freljord, it was already late autumn.
The late autumn in Freljord was so chilling that it far exceeded Silas's knowledge.
Even though Silas had put on heavy winter clothes "very wisely", when the cold wind called "Anivia's Breath" by the Freljordians passed by, he still clearly felt the biting bone.
of cold.
When he started sneezing for the fifth time, Silas finally realized that he was probably not prepared enough.
In this case, Silas has two options.
The first one is to walk down bravely, risking frostbite, to find a Freljord barbarian settlement, and then see what the Freljordians will do.
The second one was to decisively turn around and return to Demacia before going deep into the Freljord and going to a colder place to avoid any accidents.
The former is risky, and the latter is also risky.
Needless to say, it was difficult to move forward. Silas could clearly sense that the coldness of the Freljord was probably not just due to the low temperature, but the magic power rippling in the air was also dangerous.
As for retreating...
There was no way, during the turmoil in the capital of Demacia, Silas's escape alone really attracted too much attention. After arriving in the north, he focused on heading north to the Freljord, and his use of magic was considered unscrupulous.
Everything was stolen from head to toe except for the chains on the wrists - based on the principle of speed, efficiency and economy, he did not consider the follow-up at all when he did it. Although it was said to be stealing, in fact it was almost the same as robbing.
In other words, there was not much cover for what he did in the north, and he left too many traces.
Under such circumstances, if he turns around and returns to Demacia now, he will most likely be greeted by a dragnet.
The dilemma belongs to yes.
However, this seemingly difficult question did not make Silas hesitate for long.
Silas, who was trembling, almost without thinking, gave up the idea of returning, gritted his teeth and chose to continue heading north.
The reason for making this decision was not that he thought it would be safer to go north and that he would be more likely to get out of the predicament, but the main reason was that he never wanted to return to the cage again.
The moment he opened the wall of the Demonic Prison, he had already decided to say goodbye to the prison.
Continuing to go north, if you can't withstand the severe cold of Freljord, you will die - and even if you die, it is better than returning to a dark cage!
Farewell, cage!
……………………
Solva rode on the back of a majestic Juvask wild boar, following the plundering team of the Winter's Claw tribe and advancing quietly.
Solva's riding skills are not good. Compared with riding these large wild boars with rough manes, she is actually better at doing some sacred and noble things - such as serving the gods.
Even after the era of the three sisters, the gods of Freljord have become the "old gods" among most people, but it is undeniable that the power given by these old gods still flows in the form of blood.
The body of the Freljord shamans even infected their souls.
However, it is a pity that in the eyes of the raiders of Winter's Claw, "serving the old gods" is neither sacred nor noble, and it is probably only a little stronger than the weakness of the Avarosans.
.
Although it is said that since Sejuani defeated Kokia in a duel and became the war mother of the Winter's Claw, the entire tribe no longer respects the Frostguard priests and instead desires the power of the old gods, but most of the Winter's Claws
The scarred warriors of Claw only long for the power of the gods, but are often hostile to the gods' servants.
Solva knew exactly what these unbelievers were thinking, and she was both amused and saddened by this idea.
You long for the power of the gods to fight against the Frostguard Priests, but when this power is within your reach, you are too timid to move forward...
It was just like when I joined this team - obviously many of the marauders in the team wanted to welcome me from the bottom of their hearts, but on the surface, they always kept a distant distance from me.
Thinking of this, Solva's mouth couldn't help but drop.
At this moment, the surrounding wind and snow began to become violent at a speed visible to the naked eye. Large snowflakes came with the wind, beating Solva's exposed skin until it hurt - although the temperature here was horribly low.
, but Solva did not wear a heavy fur coat, but simply wore a fur vest, completely exposing his arms to the wind and snow.
However, she didn't feel cold.
The gift of the old gods made her not afraid of the wind and snow of Freljord. After all, the severe cold of Freljord was just the "Breath of Anivia", while Thorva was "the servant of Volibear".
", who is worse than whom?
Even compared to Solva, the rough and thick-headed Juvask wild boar under her body was a bit irritable in the wind and snow - even with its thick fur, it didn't seem to like the snowstorm very much.
Stretching out his palm, Solva tried to calm the irritable Juvask wild boar, but unfortunately, the beast seemed to become even more irritable after being exposed to Solva's power. It twisted its body uneasily,
Almost bringing Solva down from behind.
Solva, who had no choice but to hold on to the reins, could only give up this "comfort" and instead used his riding skills that he was not good at to deal with this trouble.
While trying to clamp his legs together, a blasphemous thought appeared in Solva's mind - the Juvask wild boar is so repulsive to the power of gods, is it really a descendant of the old gods?
No, no, no, how could the descendants of the old gods become beasts without wisdom?
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! This must be the nonsense of the Notai people!
Then, before Thorva could start to repent, the leader of the Winter's Claw raiders, Fleina, who was known as the Mother of Scars, took the initiative to come to her side.
"Quiet!"
The powerful warrior looked at Solva and her mount.
As Fleina spoke, the wild boar under her crotch looked far more majestic than the one under Solva's crotch, together with its owner, stared fiercely at the mount that was trying to overturn Solva.
Watched by three dangerous eyes (Flena's right eye is pure white, and a long scar almost bisects the right half of her face), the Juvasque wild boar under Solva's crotch finally fell silent.
It came down, and although it was still grunting dissatisfied, at least it no longer dared to make any big moves.
Seemingly satisfied with her own intimidation, Fleina's lips moved upwards with satisfaction, and even the hideous scars on her face squirmed like a long centipede.
In the eyes of most people, this scar is ugly. The face it destroys and the skin it turns up are not in line with people's mainstream aesthetics.
But in the Freljord, especially in the Winter's Claw of the Freljord, scars that represent the edge of life and death are the most attractive symbol of a person - here, those without scars are not praised.
, but a contemptuous mockery of rookies and novices.
No scar means no battle.
"The storm is coming." Solva, who didn't like to see Freina show off her power, started a topic abruptly, "This year's Breath of Anivia comes earlier than in previous years."
Fleina didn't say anything, but as if she had discovered something, she used her single eye that still had vision to firmly focus on the distance to the south.
"Did you find anything?" Solva narrowed his eyes slightly after noticing the other person's gaze, "I didn't see anything."
"That's really too bad." Fleina's tone was pleasant but stern, "You have two good eyes, but your eyesight is not even as good as mine."
Solva gritted his teeth. Although he felt unhappy, there was nothing to defend. In fact, her joining this raiding team was due to the guidance of the gods. From the time she came, the members of the team
People have opinions about her.
But because she was a shaman after all, she represented the old beliefs of the Freljordians, and she also knew some knowledge that ordinary Freljordians didn't understand, so they finally reluctantly accepted her.
Whenever there is a chance, these unscrupulous guys will try to ridicule Solva with less sharp words; and every time this happens, Solva will feel that they are a group of ignorant and pathetic guys.
You are simply not qualified to listen to the voice of God.
Solva, who was sneering in her heart, looked expressionlessly in the direction Fleina was looking. After she tried her best to squint her eyes, she finally locked onto a figure at the edge of her field of vision that looked incompatible with the surrounding ice and snow.
Judging from the height and the way he moves, he seems... to be a human being?
It should be an individual.
After all, this is not an area where snowmen are found.
Solva blinked her eyes, trying to see more clearly - but unfortunately, with a gust of wind and snow, the already blurry figure disappeared from her sight.
However, an indescribable palpitation came from Solva's chest. She seemed to be aware of it, but she still seemed a little confused. She subconsciously urged the Juvask wild boar and started to move towards the south.
"Stop." Fleina whispered, "Don't waste your energy. Let's rest here for a quarter of an hour. When the wind and snow calm down, we will continue to move forward. It is our mission to raid the Avarosans. Don't do it because of you."
My curiosity delayed the team’s progress!”
"Maybe they are Avarosan spies." As Solva moved forward, he found an excuse for his actions that sounded like that. "They can always detect our raids in advance——
It is very likely that it relies on this kind of spies."
"He can't be a spy, because even a weak Avarosan can't walk on the moraine foolishly." Fleina denied Solva's argument, "Maybe he walked like this.
When did he drown in the wind and snow?"
"So, he is a warm-blooded person?" Solva continued to narrow his eyes, "Why do warm-blooded people come here?"
"Who knows?" Fleina shook her head indifferently, "I heard that the Avarosans are trying to trade with the warm-blooded people... maybe this is their envoy? I have to say, if that's the case,
, that warm-blooded man really sent a stupid messenger."
Not paying attention to the sarcasm in Fleina's words, Solva continued to urge the impatient Juvask wild boar to run towards the looming figure.
She didn't know the identity of that person, but she was sure that when she looked at that figure, she felt an indescribable throbbing in her heart - she had received the will of the god and chose to live in the winter when winter was about to begin.
It was this kind of throb that I felt when traveling with the marauders.
In the howling wind and snow, there seemed to be a voice reminding her, asking her to get closer and take a look.
Solva's insistence made Fleina frown.
Now is the time when the wind and snow are strong. What the team should do at this time is to stay in a sheltered area for a while, recover their physical strength and the strength of their mounts, and then wait for the wind and snow to subside before setting off again.
They are the marauders of Winter's Claw, and their goal this time is to get back to the rear of Avarosa - although those cowardly guys have limited combat effectiveness in frontal combat, they are the same as the warm-blooded people, and they will always build and hate together.
Buildings and relying on buildings, the frontal offensive effect is very limited.
But now, in the wind and snow, Solva seemed to be possessed by a man, running towards a warm-blooded man lost in the wind and snow...
Fleina wanted to restrain the team and watch her fend for herself.
This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! However, considering the identity of the opponent and the attitude of several very superstitious guys in the raider team, even the Mother of Scars has no choice but to
He shook his head and motioned for the team to follow.
These young shamans who think they have received revelations from the Old Gods are really troublesome - if only all shamans were as calm and reliable as Udyr.
……………………
The closer he got to this warm-blooded man, the clearer Solva's throbbing became.
She watched this stranger, who had no knowledge of the Freljord at all, wearing a ridiculous fur coat, struggling to get up and staggering down, and finally plunged into the wind and snow, motionless.
Until Solva came to this guy's side and carefully looked at his figure, she could not find the source of this throbbing.
Well, there are chains on his wrists that look very heavy. Could it be that he is a slave among warm-blooded people?
Thorva did not think about the prisoners - the cold Freljord was not Demacia, and eating well here was a luxury, so no one would feed the prisoners foolishly.
Here, the only people bound by chains and shackles are slaves who disobey discipline and do not work well.
Solva got off his mount, approached the "escaped slave", and looked carefully at the gray stone on his wrist that shone with blue light.
This was not because Solva was fascinated by the gems, but because she discovered that it was not this person who seemed to cause her heart palpitations, but these gray stones.
However, before Solva could figure out what was going on, the warm-blooded man who had fallen in the snow and was almost dead suddenly started to move.
The chain stretched out like a python and wrapped around Solva's body. The next moment, an indescribable suction force came. Solva felt cold for the first time after becoming a shaman.
Trembling, she finally fell on her back, but the warm-blooded man who was almost freezing to death took a long breath and jumped up as if he had been reborn.
"Thank you." He took off his robe and covered Solva with it, and said in Demacian, "I like your magic."