Mountainous region.
The thick white snow and dangling icicles dress the area in a silvery cloak, a glaring expanse of white.
A group of Barbarians forms a long line, trudging slowly through the snow, one foot deep, the other shallow, panting heavily.
They are lost. Since the descent of the heavenly fire, all the Barbarians have scattered into the mountains like headless flies, running all over the hills, losing every bit of supplies, war beasts, and spoils.
All that's left is sheer terror.
The dangers of this world are beyond their imagination, those alien race mbers are nightmarishly powerful; even before eting them, they've encountered the dreadful heavenly fire.
"Uncle Bamoer, can we still make it back?" a thirteen or fourteen-year-old boy who had fallen behind asked softly, sounding anxious and breathless.
"Don't be afraid, Little Ferro, we will definitely make it back. The great and rciful God of Cold Winter will guide our way; He won't let us perish." The old Barbarian beside him comforted.
Little Ferro's eyes lit up, invigorated in spirit: "Yes, the great Lord is almighty; He will save us."
However, after walking for hours on end, the group had still not found the spatial passage they ca through, instead venturing further into unknown territories, the sun gradually tilted westward, hunger and cold tornting the Barbarian squad.
The group was forced to find a cave for a temporary resting spot.
"Everyone go out and find food, or we'll all starve and freeze." A Priest said, his face gloomy.
As followers of the God of Cold Winter, they were naturally resistant to cold, but their tolerance has limits; without adequate food by night, they would beco frozen corpses.
The crowd burst into noise, hotly debating.
Little Ferro remained silent, feeling only a heavy heart.
As they traveled, they saw almost no prey, unlike their world where prey was plentiful, even in winter finding prey was easy. To a seasoned and observant hunter, winter was instead more manageable.
For many creatures already hibernate during winter, easy to hunt once you locate their dens.
But here, prey is pitifully scarce; the world is unknown and unfamiliar, and the habits of prey differ.
Nevertheless, they had to search, or face certain death.
After a brief discussion, Little Ferro, Bamoer, and an elder Barbarian nad Luo Ta tead up to search for prey; luck was on their side, before nightfall they encountered an unnad beast, managing to hunt it successfully.
"Finally caught one; let's take it back." Little Ferro exclaid excitedly.
Bamoer shook his head, sighing: "The prey is too small, just enough for us to eat; once we take it back to the cave, we might not even get any."
They were either old or weak, holding low standing in the group; when food was scarce, it was difficult to receive portions, even if the prey was their kill.
"Indeed, everyone must keep it a secret." The elderly Luo Ta understood without words and said.
Little Ferro remained silent; he agreed it was reasonable.
They quietly examined, hid under a large rock, divided and devoured the prey, eating everything from bone to fur and even innards, cleanly.
"The beasts here are very tender, even their bones are brittle." Little Ferro chewed the last leg bone, savoring as he swallowed.
"Perhaps it's because it's so light here." Bamoer comnted, then looked at Little Ferro: "Quickly wipe the blood from your mouth so others don't notice. Later we'll roam again, maybe find more prey."
Unfortunately, their luck had depleted utterly.
The group searched for another hour, finding nothing more.
The moonlight, reflected off the snow, appeared unusually bright.
The three trudged back to the cave with one foot deep, one foot shallow, discovering many had returned, a wave of sighs filled the air, oppressive atmosphere; the trio exchanged a glance, kept quiet, and quietly found a corner to sit.
The Priest knelt, his mouth moving silently, seemingly in a prayer.
As ti went by, people gradually returned, but nobody bared food; either they ate outside, or found nothing.
Night deepened, cold winds swept through the valley, producing wails akin to ghosts and wolves.
The Priest halted his prayers, gathered a dozen strong Warriors, whispering secretly, occasionally glancing over causing Little Ferro to feel uneasy, as if bad things were impending.
At that mont, a sound of teeth clashing erged from nearby; turning his head, he was surprised to see old Luo Ta looking pale, trembling uncontrollably.
Was he ill? He was perfectly fine monts earlier.
While puzzled, Bamoer suddenly whispered: "Little Ferro, quickly co over to !"
"Oh!" Though Little Ferro couldn't understand, he approached Uncle Bamoer; Uncle Bamoer was a good man, wouldn't harm him.
Just as Little Ferro sat down, he shockingly noticed those Warriors stood up, selecting their targets among the crowd like choosing prey, advancing toward their respective choices.
Every chosen person shared one trait: they were elder Barbarians, one of them being old Luo Ta.
"No, you can't do this!"
"I am still useful, I still have strength to fight for the Lord!"
"For the survival of the remaining tribe mbers, please offer your bodies; the Lord will rember your contributions, your souls will ascend to heaven." The Priest consoled loudly, his voice appearing hollow under the cold night.
Old Luo Ta seed like he wanted to flee; however, just as he stood, he was pinned onto the rock wall by a long spear piercing through his chest.
Blood splattered all over Little Ferro's face, he endured the fear, not daring to utter a sound.
He looked towards Uncle Bamoer, finding deep worry and unease etched on his face.
He then realized Uncle Bamoer was also getting old; perhaps next ti it would be his turn.
The tribe mbers' "sacrifice" provided the remaining Barbarians with a feast; Little Ferro ate plenty, consuming tribe mbers was common practice in the clan, the only difference being it used to be deceased body mbers, but now they were killed alive.
...
At the mountain's base, military encampnts surrounded the distant mountainous region.
Under the night sky, Chen Shouyi accompanied by several officers, inspected the distant scenario, overlooking for a long ti before asking: "How many soldiers are here now?"
"Approximately five hundred eighty thousand, but more troops are being gathered." An officer quickly responded.
"Too many." Chen Shouyi shook his head and said.
"Ah!"
"With the freezing temperatures, have them withdraw, they'll be of no use later." Chen Shouyi said.
The officers looked stunned, exchanging glances.
"General Manager Chen, I'll call the head imdiately." One officer snapped back, wisely replied.
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