Above the mage

Chapter 227 Tribes and Wolves

This is an abandoned land.

Under the vast sky, there was only pure white snow and the black tundra covered by snow.

On the vast wilderness, there was hardly a trace of green.

The dilapidated camp, the ubiquitous wild beasts, and the extremely dangerous leyline creatures that frequently appear—everything exudes a primal aura.

This is the North, a wild, rugged, and uncivilized land.

A short, thin, dark-skinned boy of about seven or eight, dressed in rough animal skin clothes and with hair like dry grass, carried a huge basket that seemed completely out of place on his body as he walked step by step through the filthy, crisscrossing tents.

The basket on his back contained the droppings of herbivores that he had collected on the snowfield.

It is mainly musk ox dung.

Although there is little greenery in the North, it does not mean that nothing grows there.

In the permafrost of the tundra, you can find some weeds, wild vegetables, wild peas, and berries including rock berries and cloudberries.

These are almost the only "green vegetables" that people in the North can eat on a daily basis.

Mosses and lichens are also very common, and these, along with the roots, stems, and bark of some plants, are the staple food of herbivores.

Herbivore excrement contains a large amount of plant fiber, which is easy to burn after drying and has a low ignition point, making it a common fuel source for people in the North.

Back in his tent, Joey struggled to unload the basket from his back.

A burning pain shot through my shoulder.

Such heavy work is too harsh for a child who is not yet ten years old.

But Joey didn't complain at all.

On frozen ground, it's impossible not to endure hardship.

Every child in the North grows up like this.

Joey took out a glove, put it on, and then reached into the basket, starting to work as if kneading dough.

This excrement needs to be processed by hand into cakes or small blocks, and then placed in the sun to dry naturally on a fine day. Only after it is dry can the resulting manure cakes be used as fuel.

Since his parents died in a snow wolf attack two years ago, Joey has barely survived on the meager food allocated by the tribe and by venturing out into the snow to find wild vegetables and herbs.

The tribe may be small, but it will never abandon any of its members.

In the North, one's people are the most important thing.

Although the tribe would not easily abandon children who had lost their parents, it did not mean that Joey could take it for granted that he could eat and drink for free.

The truth is, the North never supports idlers.

Even children have their own jobs.

Making fuel was Joey's job.

While working, Joey kept glancing outside the tent.

He was waiting for the tribe's hunting party to return.

If they're lucky, the hunters will return with several game animals, mostly bighorn deer, musk oxen, and wild boars, and Joey will get a large piece of meat from the hunt.

That was Joey's happiest moment.

But such moments don't happen often.

More often than not, the hunters only have a meager harvest, not even enough for everyone in the tribe to have a bite of meat.

At this time, the limited food supplies must be given priority to the men in the tribe who need physical strength.

Women, the elderly, and children often only get to drink a sip of meat broth.

This isn't even the worst-case scenario.

Hunting is always dangerous; injuries are common, and death is even more so.

Sometimes, however, the hunters would bring back not prey, but the corpses of their companions.

At times like these, going hungry for a few days is a minor issue. The main concern is that for small tribes like theirs, even minor casualties could disrupt the already fragile balance of the tribe. If a hunter is injured, he cannot hunt; if he cannot hunt, he will not have food; and if he has no food, he will not have the strength to search for food.

This vicious cycle eventually leads to the extinction of a tribe.

And such stories happen every day on the permafrost of the North.

Therefore, Joey's eyes held not only expectation but also worry.

It's very contradictory.

In an environment where survival is the primary concern, the so-called infighting loses its meaning. Everyone in the tribe is a community, which is very valuable.

Joey had good luck today.

When the tribe's hunters returned carrying a huge antlered deer, the entire tribe erupted in cheers and shouts from the children.

Before long, joyful laughter spread throughout the entire tribal camp.

Even Joey couldn't help but excitedly pump his fist.

"hunter."

Becoming a skilled hunter and bringing food and cheers to the tribe was young Joey's greatest dream at that moment.

After half an hour.

"Little Joey, this is for you." An old hunter from the tribe walked towards Joey's tent carrying a rather large piece of venison.

Joey had almost finished her work and was cleaning.

He accepted the heavy load of venison and the small piece of offal that came with it, and expressed his gratitude to the old hunter.

The diet of people in the North is mainly based on meat and fish, which make up more than 90% of their diet. Only very occasionally will they add some wild vegetables and fruits.

Moreover, in order to preserve the nutritional value of food to the greatest extent and to save fuel, the method of eating is often extremely barbaric: raw consumption.

This seemingly "barbaric" way of eating is actually a way of life in which the people of the North coexist harmoniously with nature.

Joey carefully took out the specially made bone knife he had hidden at his waist.

Although it was a bone knife, it had become exceptionally sharp after his frequent sharpening.

Joey used a bone knife to gently slice across the large piece of venison, his technique skillful and precise.

Thin slices of meat, as thin as cicada wings, were then cut off.

Then, Joey put the meat slices into his mouth.

The cool meat melts in your mouth, with a texture like ice cream, releasing a rich, fresh, and sweet flavor.

A satisfied expression immediately appeared on Joey's face.

He was already starving.

In fact, apart from the hunters who go out hunting and often eat until they are about 80% full to conserve their strength and stamina, most people in the tribe are usually only half full.

Only on a very few holidays would people freely hoard food and indulge in gluttony.

Hunger is also a common occurrence for people in the North.

On this land, food is far too precious.

woo~~~

woo~~~

Just as Joey was enjoying his food and daydreaming about becoming a hunter in the future, a series of increasingly loud horn calls rang out in the tribal camp.

Accompanied by the sound of horns, a hoarse voice, tinged with barely perceptible fear, rang out: "Snow wolf attack! Snow wolf attack! About thirty! They're almost here!"

The owner of the voice was the leader of their small tribe, the only one in the entire tribe to awaken the Iceborn bloodline.

Upon hearing the words "Snow Wolf," Joey's hair stood on end.

Snow wolves are the most common leyline creatures in the Northern Lands, found in every corner of the permafrost tundra.

With hundreds of thousands of wolves, ranging from the lowest-ranking 0-ring snow wolves to the 5-ring Frost Wolf King, the snow wolf pack has become one of the most troublesome problems for the people of the North.

Snow wolves prefer to roam in packs, and when food is scarce, they will attack the camps of the northern tribes.

Joey's parents died in an attack by a pack of snow wolves.

This early experience not only instilled in Joey a deep hatred for snow wolves, but also a fear hidden deep in his subconscious.

So when he heard the news of the snow wolf attack, he immediately went into high alert, like a cat with its fur standing on end, and gripped the bone knife tightly in his hand.

A pack of thirty snow wolves, in a typical ratio, would typically consist of three wolves with a ring.

Such a wolf pack, if not capable of wiping out their tribe, could at least cripple them.

For such a small tribe, a serious injury often means annihilation.

They barely survived the snow wolf attack two years ago and haven't recovered much of their strength yet.

If faced with another crisis, no one has the confidence that the tribe can survive this winter.

"Beasts, these damned beasts, why are they coming after us?" A woman from the tribe murmured to herself, holding her infant child tightly in her arms, her voice filled with despair and sorrow.

"Everyone, take out the venison you received today and throw it at the entrance of the tribe," the tribe chief decisively ordered.

Although snow wolves are fierce, they rarely attack human camps unless they are extremely hungry.

After all, this is a very dangerous activity for them, and many of their companions will inevitably be injured or killed.

Therefore, if you take out some food and feed these snow wolves until they are half full, there is a high probability that they will retreat.

This practice is often referred to as the "snow wolf tax," which means paying a tax to snow wolves in exchange for food to secure peace.

Although somewhat reluctant, the tribespeople who had just received their share of venison quickly handed it over.

If food runs out, there's always a chance to hunt again; but if people are gone, then there's truly no one left.

The hunters took the heavy chunks of meat from the tribesmen and threw them at the entrance of the village, as if they were offerings to the snow wolves.

Just as they finished all these actions, a pack of ferocious, frost-white snow wolves charged forward without any attempt to conceal themselves, like white ghosts crossing the snow.

Snow wolves look somewhat like dogs, but they are far more ferocious.

Their eyes gleamed with an eerie green light, as if they could see into people's fears and anxieties.

The pack of snow wolves stopped at the entrance to the tribe, looking at the piles of venison there.

The tribal hunters, who had already drawn their weapons, kept a close eye on the snow wolf pack.

A tense atmosphere filled the air.

Every howl of the cold wind seemed to trigger the tense nerves of both sides.

At that moment, a few low whimpers came from the snow wolf pack.

Immediately afterwards, three enormous, imposing wolves slowly moved forward.

They were the strongest members of this snow wolf pack, three ice wolves at the first ring.

They will determine the movements of the entire wolf pack.

The remaining snow wolves, those with zero rings, gazed at the three ice wolves with awe.

The snow wolf approached the pile of venison, gently sniffed it.

Then came a terrifying sound, the tearing sound of teeth grinding through bone, sending chills down one's spine.

The snow wolf's strong, sharp teeth are best suited for crushing hard bones and extracting the marrow from them.

The cold bone marrow has always been one of the snow wolves' favorite foods.

After the three alpha wolves had licked up all the marrow and sucked out every last drop, they slowly raised their heads and stared at the hundred or so people in the tribe. Their eerie green eyes gleamed with ferocity, and they let out a long howl that was terrifyingly menacing.

The clan chief's face changed instantly.

Although they couldn't communicate verbally, the snow wolves understood perfectly: the meat wasn't enough, and they wanted more.

"A greedy beast"

The wolf pack wasn't particularly large, numbering around thirty.

However, their tribe was too small. Apart from the elderly, children, and women, there were only thirty or forty people who were truly capable of fighting.

The people of the North are never lacking in courage and strength, and they are not incapable of fighting these snow wolves, but once they really fight to the death, they will inevitably suffer heavy casualties.

How will we survive the coming harsh winter?

A sense of powerlessness rose in the clan leader's heart.

This is the predicament of small tribes; they have no ability to withstand risks, and even the slightest accident could lead to their demise.

"Lotte, take some men and drag another musk ox out of the warehouse," the chieftain said.

"Chief, that's winter rations!" The hunter named Laut said anxiously, his face changing drastically.

"Listen to me!"

"It is the clan chief."

A moment later, Laut and several strong hunters dragged a huge frozen musk ox out of the warehouse.

Its massive body left a deep mark on the snow.

On the snow, the attention of the three ringed alpha wolves was instantly drawn to the newly appeared prey, their eerie green eyes gleaming with even greater greed.

The tribespeople watched as the hunters dragged the frozen musk ox to the entrance of the tribe, their faces filled with worry and reluctance.

"Living is more important than anything else." The clan chief's voice was not loud, but it was unusually firm.

Lauter and the others quickly dragged the musk ox to the wolf pack and then put it down.

The three alpha wolves slowly approached, circling the musk ox a few times, as if inspecting the goods.

"Laut, watch out!!"

Just then, something unexpected happened.

The tribal chief, his eyes bloodshot, shouted, trying to warn Laut.

But it was too late.

One of the three alpha wolves suddenly attacked, leaping up and knocking Lauter to the ground, biting him in the jaws.

Lauter was too hasty to resist, and only through instinct and courage did he manage to turn his head away.

The fangs that were aimed at its neck eventually tore a piece of flesh from Lauter's shoulder.

Lauter let out a scream.

Meanwhile, the other two snow wolves also launched their attacks simultaneously.

The other two hunters were not as lucky as Laut. Their abdomens, which were only covered by animal skins, were ripped open by the sharp claws of the snow wolf, and their intestines spilled out of their stomachs in an instant.

The agonizing screams of the two hunters, their bellies slashed open, were like a knife piercing the hearts of everyone present.

"You beast!"

The tribal chief was furious when he saw this.

Just as humans have various personalities, so do snow wolves.

The three wolves in front of them were clearly cunning and ruthless, and didn't care about any so-called "rules of the game".

Here, the alpha wolf, enraged, opened its massive jaws once more, its fangs snapping at Laut, whom it had pounced on.

"No!" someone in the tribe cried out in despair.

Lauter's face also turned pale, knowing that he was likely going to die here this time.

Whoosh!

Just as the Snow Wolf's sharp fangs were within reach, before the other hunters in the tribe could react, everyone heard a sound like an arrow piercing the sky.

As the sound came, a blazing beam of fire shot out from a tricky angle, heading straight for the alpha wolf.

Then, the alpha wolf suddenly let out a miserable howl and was instantly blasted away.

Lauter narrowly escaped death.

His experience as a hunter allowed him to instantly pinpoint the direction from which the beam of fire was coming, and he instinctively looked over.

Then Lauter saw a figure, like lightning, gliding down a high slope dozens of meters away on extremely long "shoes".

(End of this chapter)