Chapter 454 [0449] Survival From a Desperate Situation

In his hasty escape, Silas quietly spent the end of summer and missed the last tenderness of early autumn.

When he finally arrived in Freljord wearing a thick fur coat, carrying a small bag, climbing the Dragon Spine Mountains, it was already late autumn.

And the late autumn in Freljord was far more bleak than Silas could imagine.

Even though Silas had "wisely" put on heavy winter clothes, when the cold wind, which the Freljord people called "Anivia's Breath", passed by, he still clearly felt the bone-piercing cold.

When he started sneezing for the fifth time, Silas finally realized that he was probably not prepared enough.

In this case, Silas had two choices.

The first was to go on, risking frostbite, to find a Freljord barbarian settlement, and then see what the Freljord people would do.

The second one was to turn back decisively, and return to Demacia directly before going deep into Freljord or going to colder places to avoid accidents.

The former was risky, and the latter was also risky.

Needless to say, it was difficult to move forward. Silas could clearly sense that the coldness of Freljord was probably not only due to the low temperature, but also because of the dangerous magic in the air.

As for retreating...

There was no way. In the turmoil of the Demacia capital, Silas's escape alone attracted too much attention. After arriving in the North, he was determined to go north to Freljord, and he used magic recklessly. From head to toe, except for the chain on his wrist, everything was stolen - based on the principle of fast, good and economical, he did not consider the follow-up at all when he took action. Although it was stealing, it was actually the same as robbing.

In other words, he did not cover up much of what he did in the North, and left too many traces.

In this case, if he turned back and returned to Demacia now, he would most likely be greeted by a dragnet.

It was a dilemma.

However, this seemingly difficult question did not make Silas hesitate for long.

Silas, who was shivering, almost gave up the idea of ​​returning without thinking, and chose to continue north with gritted teeth.

He made this decision not because he thought it was safer to go north and more likely to get out of the predicament, but because he never wanted to return to the cage again.

The moment he opened the wall of the forbidden magic prison, he had decided to say goodbye to the cage forever.

Continuing north and unable to withstand the severe cold of Freljord would only mean death - and even death is better than returning to the dark cage!

Goodbye, cage!

……………………

Solva rode on the back of a majestic Juvask boar, followed the looting team of the Winter Claw tribe, and moved forward quietly.

Thorva's riding skills were not good. Compared with controlling these large wild boars with rough bristles, she was actually better at doing some sacred and noble things - for example, serving the gods.

Even after the era of the three sisters, the gods of Freljord had become the "old gods" in the mouths of most people, but it is undeniable that the power bestowed by these old gods still flows in the bodies of Freljord shamans in the form of blood, and even infects their souls.

However, unfortunately, in the eyes of the raiders of the Winter Claw, "serving the old gods" is neither sacred nor noble. It is probably only slightly stronger than the weakness of the Avarosans.

Although since Sejuani defeated Kokia in a duel and became the Warm Mother of the Winter Claw, the entire tribe no longer respected the Frost Guard priests and turned to crave the power of the old gods, most of the scarred warriors of the Winter Claw only crave the power of the gods, but are often hostile to the servants of the gods.

Solva knew very well what these unbelievers were thinking. She found this idea both funny and sad.

You crave the power of the gods to fight against the Frost Guard priests, but when this power is within your reach, you are timid and hesitant...

It was just like when she joined this team - many looters in the team wanted to welcome her from the bottom of their hearts, but on the surface, they always kept a distance from her.

Thinking of this, Solva's mouth couldn't help but fall down.

At this time, the wind and snow around began to become violent at a speed visible to the naked eye. Large flakes of snow came with the wind, whipping Solva's exposed skin painfully - although the temperature here was terribly low, Solva did not wear a heavy fur coat, but simply put on a fur waistcoat, exposing her arms completely to the wind and snow.

However, she did not feel cold.

The gift of the old gods made her fearless of the wind and snow in Freljord. After all, the severe cold in Freljord was just the "Breath of Anivia", and Solva was the "Servant of Volibear", so who was worse?

Compared to Solva, it was the rough-skinned and thick-fleshed Juvask boar under her that was a little irritable in the wind and snow - even with its thick fur, it didn't seem to like the blizzard.

Stretching out his palm, Solva tried to soothe the irritable Juvask boar, but unfortunately, after the beast came into contact with Solva's power, it seemed even more irritable. It twisted its body restlessly, almost offering Solva from behind.

Solva, who had no choice but to hold on to the reins, had no choice but to give up this "comfort" and instead used his riding skills that he was not good at to deal with this trouble.

While trying to clench his legs, a blasphemous thought appeared in Solva's mind - the Juvask wild boar is so repulsive to the power of the 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 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 hard at the mount that was trying to overturn Solva.

Watched by three dangerous eyes (Flenna's right eye is pure white, and a long scar almost bisects the right half of her face), the Juvasque boar under Solva's crotch is finally quiet 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 raised the corners of her mouth 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 appearance 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 too bad." Fleina's tone was pleasant but stern, "Two good eyes, but the 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 guided by the gods. From the time she came, the people in the team I have a problem with 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 the gods.

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, it seems...a human?

It should be an individual.

After all, this is not an area where snowmen are found.

Solva blinked, trying to see more clearly - but unfortunately, with a sudden gust of wind and snow, this 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 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." 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 spy.”

"He can't be a spy, because even a weak Avarosan can't walk on the moraine stupidly." Fleina denied Solva's argument, "Maybe he walked like this. When did he drown in the 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 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, her heart felt an indescribable throbbing - she had received the will of the gods and chosen to do it when winter was about to begin. It's this kind of throbbing feeling when traveling with the marauders.

In the howling snow and wind, it seemed as if a voice was reminding her to go closer and take a look.

Flena frowned at Solva's stubbornness.

Now it was a time of strong snow and wind. What the team should do at this time was to stay in a sheltered place to rest for a while, recover their physical strength and the strength of their mounts, and then set off again when the snow and wind were less severe.

They were the raiders of the Winter Claw. This time their goal was to go back to the rear of Avarosa. Although those cowardly guys had limited combat effectiveness in frontal combat, they would always build annoying buildings like the warm-blooded people. With the help of buildings, the effect of the frontal offensive was very limited.

And now, in the snow and wind, Solva seemed to be possessed and ran towards a warm-blooded person who was lost in the snow and wind...

Flena wanted to restrain the team and watch her fend for herself.

However, considering the other party's identity and the attitude of several superstitious guys in the raider team, even the Mother of Scars could only shake her head helplessly and signal the team to follow.

These young shamans who think they have received the revelation of the old gods are really troublesome - if only all shamans were as calm and reliable as Udyr.

……………………

The closer she got to this warm-blooded man, the clearer Solva's throbbing became.

She watched this stranger who knew nothing about Freljord wearing a ridiculous fur coat, struggling to get up and stumbling and falling, and finally burying his head in the wind and snow, motionless.

Until Solva came to this guy and looked at his figure carefully, she still couldn't find the source of this throbbing.

Hmm, there are chains on his wrists that look very heavy. Is he a slave among the warm-blooded people?

Solva didn't think about the prisoners - the cold Freljord is not Demacia. It is a luxury to have enough food here, so no one would be stupid enough to feed prisoners.

Here, the only slaves who are bound by chains and shackles are those who disobey discipline and don't work well.

Solva got off his mount, approached the "escapee slave", and looked carefully at the gray stone on his wrist that was shining with blue light.

It was not that Solva was dazzled by the gems, but because she found that it was not this person who seemed to cause her palpitations, but these gray stones.

However, before Solva could figure out what was going on, the warm-blooded man who had fallen in the wind and snow and was almost dead suddenly moved.

The chain stretched out like a python and wrapped around Solva's body. The next moment, an indescribable suction came, and Solva felt the cold for the first time after becoming a shaman.

Trembling, she finally fell on her back, and the warm-blooded man who was almost frozen to death before let out a long breath and jumped up as if he had been reborn.

"Thank you." He took off his robe and covered Thorva with it, saying in Demacia, "I like your magic."

Kalya's Little Class: Warm-blooded:

Theoretically, only people with ice blood are qualified to call others warm-blooded, but in Freljord, many people are used to calling people from outside Freljord warm-blooded, and this name is contemptuous.