Once upon a time there was a greedy snake.

Chapter 44 What kind of life-risking is this?

In order to make the Ice People brave and skilled in battle once again, their king, Casalon, summoned the warriors once more.

In the name of the North Wind God, Kassalon commanded the warriors to train as they had in the frozen lands, when they were honing their skills and practicing combat techniques whenever they had a spare moment, all in order to defeat the dwarves and reach the warm, fertile lands to the south.

"Now, although we have occupied this fertile land, we still cannot be complacent... After all, the serpent has not yet appeared, and these dwarf serpent gods could launch an attack at any time."

Casaloan's reasons were very valid.

It's just training, not some complicated task like searching. For the martial-minded people of the Ice Plains, this requirement isn't too difficult to accept.

It's just a little exercise; after all, they do need to move around and digest their food.

This time, Casaloran's orders were carried out, and all the warriors obeyed him and resumed their usual training.

"The soldiers still have some fighting spirit; they are still usable."

Casalon was somewhat relieved.

Everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction.

However, it's only an impression.

At first, everything seemed fine, and the soldiers were happy to toughen up and hone their physical abilities—although their agility had clearly declined compared to when they were in the frozen ground, it was still acceptable.

However, problems arose when it came time to practice combat skills.

In the past, when soldiers were on the frozen ground, they practiced combat skills in two ways: one was called group combat, which was trained by hunting wild animals, and the other was called individual combat, which was trained by fighting one-on-one.

The former is not easy to do right now, since there are no beasts that can be called ferocious beasts in these dwarves' territory. According to the overseers—who are called "magicians" by the dwarves—anything that can be called a large beast has long been captured and taken to the pasture, and then became David Day's food.

As for the latter...

"What kind of fighting are you guys doing?"

After watching the warriors spar for a while, Casaloran finally lost his temper and grabbed two warriors who were fighting.

"What kind of fists and feet do you use? What kind of batons do you use? This kind of blow, which is lighter than a blade of grass falling on you, can you use it to fight on the battlefield?"

Wolf's tail grass, also known as foxtail grass, is so light that it feels lighter on your skin than a gust of wind.

Clearly, this level of attack is not what the Icefield Warriors should be subjected to.

You have to understand that when the ground was frozen, the soldiers trained like their lives depended on it. Once the fighting started, even the most familiar soldiers would fight like mortal enemies, their punches and kicks landing as if they wanted to kill each other. It was the purest form of combat, without any personal feelings mixed in. Just one glance at it was enough to make your blood boil.

But now...

"He has things to do tonight, so it's not a good time for him to get injured."

One of the soldiers tried to explain himself.

"I'm doing this for his own good."

"His wife is newly pregnant, I can't really beat him to death, can I?"

Another soldier spoke up.

"Wouldn't that leave his child without anyone to take care of him?"

"You two..."

Casalon was trembling with rage.

If it were just these two soldiers behaving this way, he wouldn't be so angry. It would just be a reprimand and more training, like he did before in the frozen ground. But just now, in his sight, at least half of the soldiers were doing this kind of passive resistance.

As for the remaining soldiers... at least they put on a convincing act.

But it was only a pretense; Casaloran could see clearly that none of the warriors present were actually wounded.

This means that neither of them exerted their full strength in the previous battle. For the Icefield Warriors, this kind of training couldn't even be considered play.

"enough!"

The enraged Casaloron roared.

"Stop it all!"

As one warrior after another looked in his direction, Casaloron glanced back expressionlessly.

Only when all the warriors were completely silent, even bowing their heads in quiet contemplation, did Casaloron take a deep breath.

Getting angry is pointless and solves nothing. The stronger a warrior is, the calmer they remain when faced with difficulties. Their boiling, molten blood needs a mind as sharp as an iceberg to control it.

"Starting tomorrow, it will be team battles."

Exhaling a breath of stale air, Casaloran issued a new order.

The warriors will be divided into two groups, and then these two groups will fight together as if they were really going into battle. They must show the spirit and fighting spirit of the Ice Plains people.

"The winning team will be rewarded, not only with a large amount of fresh meat, but also with the opportunity to meet the North Wind God."

Casalon added another sentence, then couldn't help but sigh.

This was undoubtedly a decision that went against tradition. For the Ice People, combat training was part of their lives. Even if there were occasional bets, they were usually just a meal or two. When had they ever offered such a high bounty?

"Shouldn't they be fighting harder by now?"

Casaloan thought to himself.

However, when Casaloran looked up, he saw nothing but a determined gaze.

Even after hearing about the high bounty, the Icefield warriors remained unmoved and even began whispering among themselves.

"Is this all... worth risking your life for?"

"Sounds alright, but I don't need it..."

"If you ask me, we should change the way we talk about it. We've finally finished fighting the war, and it's time to enjoy ourselves. We can't afford to lose our lives."

"Indeed, we must live well..."

……

Although it was just a whisper, the perceptive Casaloron heard it all clearly.

These dismissive words made Casaloran's veins throb.

"We must train diligently! Those who don't will face divine punishment!"

Clenching his teeth, Casaloran gave the order to kill, even preparing to strike with deadly force.

Perhaps sensing the killing intent in Casaloran's eyes, the Icefield warriors finally lowered their heads.

However, in those occasional glances upward, besides the usual awe of power, there was something else.

But it already contained some other elements.

“That wasn’t the look you’d give a king…”

Casaloan could sense it.

"That's the look you give an enemy."