Matthias’s eyes narrowed sharply, and he pressed his right hand against the hilt of his sword. His true energy instantly circulated within his body, and his breathing gradually became shallow.
Neville and the soldiers immediately shifted into defensive stances. Their unsheathed longswords gleamed cold and sharp in the moonlight.
The bitter wind howled through the tunnel’s exit, driving sharp flakes of snow against their faces. It stung, but they ignored the discomfort.
Barto’s eyes were clear and alert, showing no hint of intoxication. Behind them, the yeti warriors stood in solemn silence, their ice crystal spears angled toward the ground. They had clearly been waiting for a long time.
“Leopold, how dare you betray the tribe!” one of the yeti warriors roared in their native tongue.
Leopold’s face turned ashen, and he instinctively took a step back. He knew the strength of these elite warriors well, and every one of them was a grandmaster martial artist. If a fight broke out, the outcome would be disastrous.
Matthias’ eyes were locked on Barto’s movement, ready to counter any sudden attack. He had even mapped out possible escape routes in his mind.
Barto suddenly raised a hand, silencing the restless warriors behind him. To everyone’s surprise, he stepped forward with a package wrapped in animal hides. He gently handed it to Leopold with his rough hands. There was no anger in his amber eyes, but rather a hint of reluctance.
He spoke slowly in broken Dragonmari, ” Mr. Murray… It’s time for you to go home.”
Matthias was taken aback, and his grip on his sword hilt loosened slightly.
Leopold’s eyes widened in disbelief. He had expected Barto to capture him and drag him back. He never imagined Barto had actually come to see him off instead.
Seeing that he hadn’t accepted the package, Barto stuffed it into his arms. He then pointed toward a direction deep in the snowy plain and spoke in a series of low, guttural sounds. It was the Frostwarden Tribe’s language, spoken with profound warmth.
Leopold caught on and responded urgently in the same tribal language, sounding grateful.
Barto patted his shoulder. He removed the string of ice beads that contained animal bones from around his own neck, then respectfully placed it around Leopold’s. The beads clinked together with a crisp sound that rang especially clear across the silent, snowy plain.
Leopold touched the beads and was deeply moved. After all, Barto had always treasured them, and Leopold never imagined he would give them to him.
Barto grinned and gestured at the package, then toward the distance, as if to say the contents would help them face the dangers ahead. The direction he pointed was the shortcut to leaving Elysium Isle.
Ten years ago, Leopold had rescued Barto from a pack of ice beasts when he had first washed up on Elysium Isle. He had also taught the Frostwarden Tribe how to brew warming herbs and craft superior weapons. Barto had long regarded him as a mentor.
The years of what seemed like “house arrest” were actually because the High Seer feared the tribe would have no one to turn to in a future crisis if Leopold left.
But Barto had always known that Leopold longed to return to the central plains. He had secretly been looking for a chance to help him escape.
Leopold pressed a fist to his chest in a gesture of ultimate respect, then said ” Thank you” in the tribal tongue sincerely.
Barto waved him off and then gestured toward the sky, urging them to leave quickly.
Without hesitation, Leopold turned to Matthias. “Let’s go.”
Though filled with questions, Matthias knew it wasn’t the time to ask them. He followed Leopold, hurrying toward the direction Barto had pointed out.
Behind them, Barto and the yeti warriors stood silently on the snowy plain, their shadows stretching long under the moonlight. Only when Matthias and his group had disappeared into the distance did Barto turn and lead his warriors back to their tribe.
The biting wind across the snowy plain was picking up, whipping snowflakes that stung like needles against their faces.
The soldiers pulled their coats tight and trudged laboriously through the deep snow. Each step was a struggle, the crunch of their boots against the ice echoing rhythmically in the darkness.
Neville’s wound began to throb again, and cold sweat soaked his cloak. But he gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going. He glanced back regularly to check on his soldiers, making sure none of them had fallen behind.
After hours of walking, dawn began to break on the horizon. Seeing that they were far away from Frostfang Valley, Matthias signaled for everyone to take a break. The soldiers immediately collapsed onto the snow, pulling out the rations they carried and biting into them.
Just then, the sky suddenly darkened. The light snow turned heavy in an instant. Fierce winds came howling, whipping up snow from the ground into white whirlwinds.
“Oh no! It’s a blizzard,” Leopold exclaimed. His face changed drastically as he shouted, “Find shelter now!”
The soldiers hurriedly got up, looking everywhere for places to shelter from the wind. But the blizzard came too fast.
Almost instantly, the entire snowy plain was swallowed by the blizzard, and they could barely see a few feet ahead. The fierce wind hurled snow and ice against them mercilessly.
One soldier couldn’t dodge in time and was slammed to the frozen ground. Snow swallowed him instantly, burying him until only one hand remained visible above the surface before the blizzard buried him completely.
“Hold onto each other! Don’t get swept away!” Matthias shouted, grabbing the arm of a nearby soldier. He circulated his true energy within his body to brace against the wind.
Neville gripped two soldiers tightly and pressed his back against the icy boulder, trying to shield them from the wind. 1
But the blizzard was far more powerful than they had expected. Two more soldiers were swept away by the wind and vanished into the snowstorm.
