You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 430 Cold and Foul Things
The story ends. They received fresh frozen meat from the Frost Clan.

Herman, at a loss for what to do with the raw meat, ordered his men to gather firewood.

Sometimes, you inevitably encounter such situations.

He missed the valley more and more, the warm and fertile land, and the majestic and radiant prince.

When are we going back?

"If everything goes well, it should be ready tomorrow," Gwen replied lazily.

"Not now?"

"You are a Silver Moon Knight, don't you know that the moon shines brightest at night?" the old witch retorted sharply.

That was also when those monstrous creatures were at their strongest. She frowned, thinking to herself, and suddenly felt uneasy.

The story she had just heard whispered in her ear: the ancient gods also created those monstrous creatures in the cold night...

Herman simply shut up.

He never felt happy talking to these old witches.

Her men brought back dry firewood, and Herman drew his Silver Moon Sword with a clang, muttering incantations as he brought it down with a mighty chop.

click!
The firewood was split in two on the spot, sparks flew, and silver flames ignited. Once the situation stabilized, the flickering flames quietly turned red.

Herman gazed with delight at the silver-white longsword in his hand.

It is sharp, light, and tough.

The Silver Moon spell works during the day as well, all thanks to His Highness. Otherwise, with their talent, it would have been impossible for them to master this secret technique in such a short time.

After all, even seasoned witches find it difficult to quickly master a spell.

The knight piled firewood into a campfire, then took out his portable iron pot, put ice and fresh meat in it, and placed it on the flames with a wooden stick.

"Do you think those monstrous creatures hate fire?" Silvermoon Lysa stared at the campfire.

"Lady Lysa, you don't actually believe that ghost story, do you?" a Silver Moon Knight asked.

"I don't think those giants are anything special, and anything that can fight them can't be much stronger either." The knights chuckled softly as they warmed themselves around another campfire.

“We don’t think so. You should maintain a sense of awe towards the Frostfolk. This place is not simple.” Monica stirred the iron pot with a wooden spoon, melting the ice and causing foam to rise to the surface.

Roman's knights inherited his fearless spirit and were specially trained weapons of war.

Witches, on the other hand, held those legends of gods in even greater awe.

The northern lands possess an unfathomable power.

Even the Queen of Seats is as insignificant as an ant when faced with the past of this land.

Legend has it that countless remains and enormous bones are buried deep within the snowfield, where even the god of wind and snow once perished.

Their innate keen senses made it easy for them to detect the unknown power flowing within Urak's body.

Urak is the leader and priest of the Frostfolk, who can hear the voice of the earth, the whispers of his grandfather's spirit. The Frostfolk act according to these unseen revelations.

The witches had a strong belief in these revelations because they too came from the mystical realm, and their latent spirituality was giving them hints—

Don't take this lightly!
"Lieutenant, someone's here," a Silver Moon Knight on guard duty outside reported.

They could roughly determine the size of the Frost tribe after a quick look around, and the newly arrived Frost people clearly did not belong to this tribe.

Moreover, the visitors were not just one group, but a whole group, all dressed as primitive warriors, exuding a menacing aura.

"Everyone stay alert!" Hermann said.

The resting Silvermoon Knights began to quietly inspect their armored weapons.

The vice-captain believed that the Frostfolk lacked war preparedness.

This camp was open and vulnerable to attack, with no pitfalls or sharpened stakes.

The Frost tribe, numbering less than a thousand, scattered their tents over several miles, displaying an even more free and undisciplined lifestyle than the witches.

Once any of the conquering knights launch an attack, they will all perish here.

Herman secretly sent out his guards to stand on high ground, where they had a clear view of the area. No one could hide from him who came in or went out, but the Frostfolk did not react to this.

Even the knights of those scum nobles could kill them, Hermann thought to himself.

"Another batch has arrived!" A moment later, the sentry reported again.

The Frost Tribe's forces are gathering; they were previously scattered across the vast snowfields, but now they are converging here.

"Gwen, what do you think?"

Monica, bored, tried to pick fleas from her sister's hair. But even if there were fleas, they would have frozen to death in the freezing cold.

“Perhaps Urak was worried he couldn’t control us, so he found some help, or maybe it was for some other reason.” Gwen curled up by the campfire, warm and comfortable, and drowsiness gradually crept in.

She yawned, recalling the prophet's words, her heart growing heavy. She closed her eyes: "Relax, we're here to help, they have no reason to harm us... at most they're just wary."

……

"Do we really trust them?" asked the Frost Priests from other tribes.

“There is no other choice!” Urak said decisively. “Now that the enemy is close at hand, given the behavior of those herds, they will surely appear in large groups.”

“Perhaps they are very close!” said another priest.

"But we can't find any tracks of the beasts. If we can't find them, then the attackers are definitely not them!"

“Grandfather has not given us any hints yet. Everything on the snowfield is calm and peaceful. This situation is unprecedented!” an old priest said solemnly.

The most terrifying thing has happened!
The grandfather whom the Frost Generations trusted can no longer provide warnings and protection for His children!
Who will be able to stop those hideous, cold-blooded monsters from this land in the future?
Should we rely on the power of the human race?

Human spellcasters have been persecuted to this day! The war between the gods and witches has even spread to the isolated Frostfolk.

Otherwise, Valya would never have left the snowfield.

The gods are determined to exterminate them!

Even the old priest's cold, hard heart was trembling.

Two years ago, the spirit of my grandfather gave all the priests a final revelation, the contents of which were shocking: the guardian deity of winter had died!

“The power of the cold night is eroding this land!” Urak cried out in anguish. “After the human spellcasters returned Valya, we found fragments of deer bones in the forest twenty kilometers away!”

Urak took out the bone, which was gnawed into pieces and covered with messy teeth marks.

"Those beasts come and go as they please! The power of the alien gods is gradually reviving, and the icy plains are no longer their prison!"

"The alien gods have interfered with my grandfather's spirit. These wretches never used to seek out targets to kill. They've been secretly gathering power for Valya!" a priest said angrily.

"The Frost Clan has declined, but they are not dead! Summon all Frost Warriors! Let's fight them to the death!"

"Protect my grandfather's daughter!"

……

At night.

Led by Urak, Silvermoon Lysa, Herman, and others head to Valya's sleeping place.

It was a frozen wasteland, solid and dark, cold and hard as iron, imbued with the power of frost.

Valya is buried in the permafrost.

This method is said to have helped her recovery.

The grandfather's power merged into the depths of the earth, and his soul wandered the snowfields, bringing enlightenment to the Frost Tribe.

This power weakens in summer and strengthens in winter.

In the Endless Ice Plains, Grandfather's power never diminishes in the slightest. For the Endless Ice Plains are the true homeland of the Frostfolk, and the wandering souls deep within the snowfields are merely the radiance of Grandfather's power.

Valya was dug out and lay asleep in the deep blue ice. Her bleeding and near-death injuries had all healed, except for the hideous scar on her face.

But no one could wake her from her dream.

Perhaps she is dead? Her spirit flowed into her grandfather's bloodline...

This idea horrified and terrified the priests, who could only clench their teeth and remain silent, and no one could pry it open.

The tribe is doomed; if this tiny hope is shattered, they will be doomed forever.

Upon seeing the witch in the ice, the witches also reacted in different ways.

“My sister,” Gwen sighed.

"The Frost Witch." Monica's face was no longer relaxed, only heavy. The scene of her wielding the divine sword and leading everyone to break through the encirclement flashed through her mind.

"The weapon that the spellcaster left here turned into a beam of light two years ago, shot into the sky, and disappeared," Urak said.

Gwen nodded. That was the family heritage of the Black Iron Dukes, and now it had returned to the Dukes' hands.

“Ryza, let’s begin,” she said to Silver Moon Ryza. The latter was somewhat distracted, but after being reminded, she immediately took out the gem.

The radiance of the Silver Moonstone can illuminate the Netherworld and guide souls lost in darkness.

霎！
A bright moon slowly rises over the frozen earth!
The blinding light illuminated the entire space, clearly visible for miles around!
Lysa held the silver moon in her hands, her eyes closed, her silver hair dancing lightly, her face pure and holy, like the moon goddess descending to earth.

She whispered her call: "Valya...Valya...come back...come back quickly...we need you...we need you..."

call!
A chill spread like a tidal wave.

A cold wind blew.

The evil creature appeared silently.

(End of this chapter)