Chapter 95 Ice Blade Pluckers

Before nightfall, Kuima appeared at the entrance of the village of Santonkaya on a wolf.

The mount with horseshoes stepped on the peaceful land.

The busy laborers and fishing teams returning late all turned their heads and waved to the team excitedly.

Burke designed a kind of mud brick himself.

It is dry, hard and strong in the special cold wind of the North. The material is cheap, but it can expand the main road to be spacious and magnificent.

"It's so beautiful, as neat as the Mule King Market."

Langzi wore a plate armor and carried his favorite stick. As he spoke, he rubbed his bare feet on the floor tiles with patterns.

"Yes, it's beautiful."

Kuima also smiled, patted the silver hair of the mount, and asked the breeder to take it away.

His team was dusty, and mud and blood covered everyone's cloak.

The soldiers hadn't sighed for a long time. Training and conquest made their eyes deep and sharp.

The team was led by wolf riders, followed closely by a heavy crossbow. Archers carried various types of weapons on their backs and carried the spoils on their shoulders - mostly equipment, food, and materials such as steel.

Langzi, the giant, glanced at Kuima and coughed to comfort him:

"Please be patient. Death is an inevitable thing for a warrior. My father would say some decent words when he was not drunk, such as, where there is snow, there will be blood..."

As they talked, they looked at the center of the team at the same time, where there were two animal skins wrapped in vines, and inside were the deceased.

Among the bandits who resisted stubbornly, there was an evil priest. He hid behind the chariot and threw a fully charged ice magic explosion at the team.

"Well, I'm not good at talking. Generally speaking, it's not your fault."

Langzi pursed his broad lips. This was the most eloquent consolation he could muster. In another identity, he could even move himself, but Kuima closed his eyes and sighed. He slowly said, "I will confess to Zhan Jing."

"What does this have to do with the boss?"

Kuima opened his eyes and looked to the side.

Meng was sitting on a rock in the shade with his arms folded.

Behind him was a mighty wolf, both eyes staring straight at him.

"He looks so ugly. Hey, what's waiting for me... will probably be a good thing."

"How did you two end up with a grudge?"

No one answered the giant's question.

He followed Kuima and added: "Meng is not as bad as you think. In the dungeon, he often fought with the guards for slaves and was injured all over. Otherwise, it would not be so easy for the boss to capture this kid." Kuima smiled but did not answer. He followed the instructions and came to the altar, and saw the neat team. The cavalry stood in two rows, arranging a path to welcome the triumphant return. The wolves and snow lizards were all crawling in the flames - a circle of small fires had been lit at this time, and the firewood pond in the center of the altar was filled with sacrificial wood in a crisscross pattern. "Go home, rest in peace." A steady and powerful voice sounded. Ken was wearing the most solemn black fur cloak. His Albert armor was already scarred, but his eyes became more and more resolute in the dust along the way. Zhan Jing's words were not spoken to a living person. The ancient teachings of the North clearly require that the return ceremony should let the deceased go first, which is a respect for the homeland and a comfort to the living.

Kuima knelt down and stood at the first prayer position according to the tribal tradition, watching his subordinates cremated with his own eyes.

The black embers drifted away with the cold wind.

Ken ended the moment of silence.

He dispelled the grief in his heart and turned around.

At the outermost edge of the altar, the residents of Sandonkaya had gathered here.

They did not all believe in the Winter Mother, but they still respected the ceremony and looked at the steps where the war flag was with hope.

"We cannot resurrect the dead, and grief is inevitable, but for those who are still alive, we must become stronger."

Ken pulled out [Morning and Dusk], drew the power of the war flag, and filled the altar with dazzling light.

The floating stones began to rumble, they circled upwards, spread out, and slowly rotated around the central fire pit.

[The altar can activate the magic container, and the active "spirit" will send the power contained in it to the chosen person. ]

"I am ashamed."

Quima knelt on the steps, his body straight, his head lowered, and his beard full of vicissitudes.

"The sneak attack enemy was right in front of me. I pulled the bow, but it was a step too late. The explosion blew away the arrowhead. I could only watch them die. Our compatriots... right in front of me..."

His lips and teeth were dry, and he clenched his teeth, but no tears fell.

Kane dropped the axe of the dusk on the damaged shoulder armor of Quima. From the outside, this scene looked like a threat before the execution, but in the ritual of Pallotusbi, it was a sense of ritual before the praise.

The eagle archer clenched his fists, and the worn knuckles were wrapped with bandages.

Every inch of the scarlet cloth was soaked with a strong sense of unwillingness.

"This is my promise to you. Take it and protect more people."

After Zhan Jing finished speaking, he gave a transparent crystal.

Kuima took it with both hands. At the same time, Zhan Jing's axe cut through the air, and a crisp cracking sound rang out in front of him.

Bang——

The echo of the fragments dissipating echoed in his ears.

Kuima opened his mouth in surprise, and an extremely strong force poured into the wound and flowed through his body along with the blood...

"Cough, um."

He coughed painfully, and with the violent gasping, every inch of his muscles trembled, and then quickly calmed down. If you have to describe it, it's like a storm has just formed in his body, and huge power overflowed from every pore.