Above the mage

Chapter 809 Ice VS Wolf (Part Two)

Crackling sound.

The fire pit in the center of the longhouse was raging with flames, and tiny sparks flew from the red-hot coals. A crisp popping sound broke the silence inside the house.

"The Zhenbing tribe wants to build ships, but we don't have the technology. The wolf ships built by you Vikings are among the best ocean-going vessels in the entire plane," God said, meeting Olaf's scrutinizing gaze.

"So, you want our wolf ship?" Olaf narrowed his eyes, looking at God, who seemed too "naive" and "weak" in his eyes.

In Olaf's and indeed in the minds of all Vikings, this was the only reasonable answer.

In the entire North, only the area around Wolf Harbor has a large area of ​​mature Norwegian cedars.

This extraordinary giant wood, with its inherent resistance, cold resistance, and rot resistance, is the core material for building wolf ships.

Apart from the territory of Wolf Harbor, the rest of the far north is a desolate snowfield.

Not to mention mature Norwegian cedars, you can't even find ordinary hardwoods.

Therefore, Gao De and Sunafa could only be there to ask for the ship back.

"No," Gao De shook his head and said bluntly, "What we want is the complete forging technology of your Viking wolf ships."

"If possible, we would also like to hire a few senior craftsmen from your tribe to come south and assist us in completing the initial dock construction and warship forging, helping us take the first step in ocean-going shipbuilding."

Almost the instant Gao De finished speaking, Olaf's aura turned cold and hard.

His previously casual and relaxed sitting posture suddenly became more upright.

Those pupils suddenly narrowed, staring at Gao De with a dangerous undertone.

For the Viking wolf tribe, the forging techniques and systems of wolf ships are the foundational secrets that have allowed their tribe to survive for so many years; they are the core technology and heritage.

If it weren't for the fact that Gaode and Sunefa had just rescued the forest guards and protected the tribe's rare deep-sea serpent's neck nest, they would have been treated as outsiders who dared to covet the tribe's core secrets, and would have been expelled on the spot, or even turned against each other.

But even with gratitude in mind, Olaf would not back down in the slightest when his tribe's bottom line was crossed.

Olaf raised one hand, palm facing outward, the movement swift and decisive, as if waving away an unsightly cloud of smoke.

"No change."

The statement was firm and decisive, effectively sealing off all avenues for negotiation.

The atmosphere became tense again.

The elder of the Tuo'er tribe standing to the side also instantly became serious, his brows furrowed, and he silently turned his head away without saying a word to ease the tension.

He knew perfectly well that this condition had crossed all the Viking tribes' bottom lines, and there was absolutely no room for negotiation.

Faced with Olaf's resolute refusal, God remained calm, simply saying, "Chief Olaf, you haven't even heard of my bargaining chips yet, why rush to conclusions?"

Upon hearing this, Olaf suddenly let out a deep, rough laugh, full of unrestrained sarcasm and domineering arrogance.

His gaze swept back and forth across Sunafa's aloof and noble face, before settling back on Gaode's gentle and indifferent countenance, his disdain growing stronger.

"Exchange?" His tone was arrogant and domineering, filled with an ingrained conceit. "What do you think a barren tribe like yours could possibly offer that would tempt the Vikings? Gold? Magic crystals? Extraordinary materials?"

He slightly raised his chin, his arrogant aura radiating outwards: "We Vikings lack nothing. If we lack treasures, we plunder across the sea; if we lack supplies, we conquer the coast."

"Anything our people need can be seized with our battle axes and wolf ships!"

"Some things can't be taken by force," Gao De said with a slight smile.

He didn't have much negative reaction to Olaf's belittling and mockery, and he wasn't surprised at all by Olaf's firm rejection.

This was expected.

He reached out and picked up the leather bag that was placed by the fire pit.

These are the items he carried with him and kept carefully throughout the journey.

With deft fingertips, she untied the knots in the bag and took out a round object tightly wrapped in layers of coarse linen.

It is about one foot tall, with a regular and heavy shape.

The object landed on the low wooden table with a dull, solid sound, its weighty texture immediately apparent.

"No rush to finalize the deal." Gao De untied the leather cord in the burlap sack, his movements unhurried.

"We were just treated to a meal at Wolf Harbor, where we enjoyed their unique Norwegian cedar needle tea. According to the customs of our Ice Tribe, it would be impolite not to reciprocate."

He peeled off the outer layer of linen layer by layer.

Beneath the linen was a finely crafted ceramic wine bottle, perfectly suited to the northern environment.

Abandoning the crude and simple shape of ordinary jars, the vessels are round and regular in shape, and the clay is delicate and dense.

This packaging design by Gaode was specially created for the export of Moutai, combining a rustic feel with exquisite craftsmanship.

"This is a Moutai liquor that my clan has been brewing exclusively for several years using unique techniques," Gao De said, raising his hand in a gesture of respect.

"I have long heard that the Vikings are fond of strong liquor and fine wines, so today I invite the chief and elders to taste them as a small token of our tribe's gratitude."

The Vikings were fond of alcohol, especially spirits, a fact known to all the forces along the coast that had suffered under Viking raids.

They needed strong liquor to get through the long, cold winter, to boost their morale, and to soothe their wounds.

This is a basic need.

While the Vikings were fond of alcohol, they lacked both the ability and the necessary conditions to brew wine.

The polar regions are barren and bitterly cold, and the native lands lack the grains and fruits necessary for brewing wine.

This is why spirits were given a very high priority on the Vikings' loot list.

The Viking raids followed a set order:

If the target town does not put up a futile resistance, they will abide by tribal rules, taking only the allocated supplies and never slaughtering civilians.

Destroy dwellings.

It may even leave enough reserves for the local people to survive.

Such behavior is less a form of plunder and more a barbaric system of tribute, a form of protection money collection by a polar power.

Initially, the coastal towns rose up in resistance, attempting to defend themselves against the Viking raids.

However, after repeatedly facing the formidable combat power of the Viking mages and witnessing the might of the Viking wolf ships, these forces all resigned themselves to their fate.

Every summer, when the Viking season begins, these towns proactively prepare supplies and await the arrival of the Viking fleets.

If the annual tribute included fine spirits, the Vikings, in high spirits, would often voluntarily reduce their tribute by more than half, demonstrating the importance of spirits to them.

Therefore, the Vikings, who had been raiding all over the world for many years, had already tasted the best spirits from all over the continent. They had very high standards and ordinary drinks were simply not good enough for them.

That's why, when Olaf saw the ceramic wine bottle on the table, all he could see was indifference and disdain.

"The snowy plains are bitterly cold, and it's difficult for plants to grow. How can you brew wine? The juice obtained by soaking moss and withered grass can hardly be considered wine." His tone was full of disdain.

In his preconceived notion, the North was barren and cold, with everything withered and resources scarce, making it impossible to brew any kind of wine.

Therefore, what Gaode presented was at best a poorly made fermented beverage with a rough texture, not even worthy of being called alcohol.

Not to mention compared to the rare spirits they looted from all over the world.

Faced with the two men's deep-seated contempt, Gao De neither argued nor refuted, but simply raised his hand and steadily unscrewed the bottle's seal.

The next second, an extremely strong, rich and domineering aroma of liquor suddenly exploded out.

This aroma completely overturns the texture of ordinary wines.

It lacks the sourness and blandness of malt liquor, the light sweetness of fruit wine, and the messy, fishy smell of inferior fermented drinks.

The aroma of this liquor is crisp and pure, carrying the scent of roasted grains.

It was like a compressed flame suddenly unleashed, domineeringly filling the entire longhouse.

The strong aroma of liquor spread through the gaps in the beams and pillars, overpowering the smell of fire in the hearth and the bitterness of pine needle tea, penetrating straight into the nasal cavity.

Olaf, who had been looking mocking, suddenly narrowed his eyes and froze in mid-air.

Tuo Er, standing to the side, leaned forward abruptly, his indifference vanishing instantly, replaced by disbelief.

His Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably.

The two, both avid drinkers and connoisseurs of countless fine wines, immediately noticed the difference in the Moutai that Gao De had brought out.

This is no ordinary beverage.

"Want to try some?" Gao De asked with a smile.

At this moment, Olaf and Turtle no longer held their previous contempt in high regard.

Tuo'er immediately raised his hand, signaling the Viking woman guarding the side door to bring two clean earthenware bowls and place them neatly on the low wooden table.

Gaode raised his hand and tilted the bottle.

The thick, clear, deep blood-red wine flowed slowly down the bottle neck, its texture smooth and rich, unlike the thin and bland taste of ordinary wines.

The aroma of the wine became even stronger as it was poured, penetrating the nasal cavity and reaching the top of the skull.

"Please, gentlemen." Gao De pushed two bowls of wine in front of the two men.

Olaf did not hesitate and reached out to pick up the ceramic bowl.

First, it lowered its head to the rim of the bowl, sniffed it, and then tilted its head back.

The moment the liquor entered his mouth, Olaf's pupils contracted slightly.

Ordinary strong liquor only has a burning sensation in the throat.

The aroma of this wine is full-bodied, strong yet not overpowering, and mellow yet not cloying.

It is crisp and smooth on the palate, and warm and rich on the stomach, without the astringent or harsh taste of ordinary spirits.

Moreover, it carries its own heat, possessing extraordinary qualities of dispelling cold, promoting blood circulation, and nourishing qi and blood, far surpassing pine needle tea.

He had only intended to take a small sip, but the taste made him, a heavy drinker, unable to resist, and he began to gulp it down.

In the blink of an eye, the entire bowl of strong liquor was swallowed.

Olaf slammed the empty bowl down on the table, his eyes now shining with astonishing brilliance and intense interest. He stared at Gord: "What kind of wine is this?"

"This is Flying Fairy Moutai." Gao De raised his hand and filled the bowl with wine again, the liquid condensing into a dark red flame.

"Made with the Northwest Barley No. 2, unique to my Iceborn tribe, as the core ingredient, and brewed using ancient methods and low-temperature fermentation, it is a spirit that only we can cultivate, unique in the North."

Olaf nodded silently, without any further pleasantries, and took a small sip of his wine.

This time I took much smaller sips, as if I were savoring it.

As the liquor went down his throat, his guarded and vigilant demeanor noticeably relaxed.

After a brief silence, Olaf looked up and stared directly at Gaudí, his tone blunt and decisive: "You want to trade this wine for our wolf ship forging technology?"

"Of course not," Sunefa, who had been silent for a long time, spoke up at the right moment, her voice calm and indifferent: "Shipbuilding technology is the foundation of your Viking wolves. How could you possibly exchange it for a mere two or three jars of wine? That would be an insult to you, not a transaction."

Clearly, Sunefa's words were very "pleasant to hear".

"Continue," Olaf said, squinting.

"We will exchange our brewing techniques and the seeds of Northwest Barley No. 2 needed for brewing Feitian Moutai with your shipbuilding technology."

"Northwest Barley No. 2 is an extraordinary barley variety selected and domesticated by our people. Like Norwegian cedar, it can achieve stable mass production in the extremely cold northern region."

Upon hearing this, a deep emotion flashed across Olaf's eyes.

As the leader of Wolf Harbor and the chief of the tribe, he knew better than anyone the terrifying value of a stable, high-quality breed that could be mass-produced in the North.

The Viking tribes dominated the North Sea for many years, relying on their wolf ships to traverse the seas and on the bravery and skill of their people in battle.

They relied on the short summer sailing season to plunder at sea and hunt in the deep sea to stockpile supplies for the whole year.

However, the extreme cold and barrenness of the far north make resource scarcity a chronic problem and hidden danger ingrained in the tribes.

The climate in the North is unpredictable, with prolonged winters, early sea ice freezing, and storms disrupting shipping lanes being common occurrences.

Once faced with extreme weather, the Viking tribes, whose voyages are canceled and sea routes are cut off, will be left to confront the crisis of hunger and cold without the means to plunder and replenish their supplies.

Not to mention that looting is inherently a perilous path, fraught with danger.

Constantly waging wars across the seas and plundering in all directions, even the bravest warriors had to admit that the difficulty of plundering increased year by year.

Moreover, the casualties and sacrifices of the tribe's young men and women never ceased with each raid.

They plundered supplies with battle axes and warships, but they could never escape their fate of gambling with their lives to survive.

The Northwest Barley No. 2 variety, along with its complete brewing process, perfectly fills the wolf clan's most fatal weakness.

Olaf gently stroked the cold blade of the battle axe with his fingertips, his eyes flashing with uncertain light as he weighed his options.

While wolf-ship craftsmanship was the foundation of the tribe, warships were tools of conquest, and barley seeds and brewing techniques were the roots of survival.

The former ensures the tribe's outward expansion through plunder, while the latter ensures the tribe's internal stability and survival; both possess extraordinary inherent strengths.

If the tribe could incorporate its genetic resources and brewing techniques, the pressure on the Vikings to go to sea would be greatly reduced, and they would no longer need to work so hard every year.

The craftsmanship of wolf boats is never to be passed on to outsiders; this is an ironclad rule of the wolf clan.

But the chips he has now are so precious that they are enough to make him make an exception.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Olaf's resolve began to waver.

After a long silence, Olaf raised his eyes, his tone still carrying the arrogance and conceit ingrained in his bones: "Everything we Vikings want, we always take with our battle axes, never through trade."

As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere in the room became slightly tense again.

Sunafa turned and exchanged a glance with Gaode.

The two did not show much emotional fluctuation.

Because this was exactly what they expected.

To close a deal, it all boils down to two words: profit and power.

That is, the benefits that tempt the other party, and the power that prevents the other party from acting rashly.

If there's no profit, we won't talk; if we have no power, we'll be robbed.

Now, the tempting benefits are right in front of us.

Only one final step remains: to establish authority, solidify the situation, and suppress the opponent's overbearing nature.

Sunafa slowly raised her eyes, and a faint light flickered deep within her cool pupils.

The five-ring mage's restrained magical power subtly rippled around him, not fierce, yet unassailable.

She began, "Chief Olaf, the Vikings' fame resounds throughout the North Sea, I am naturally aware of that."

"But you should also understand that not everything in this world can be plundered by brute force."

"Especially things from our Ice Age."

She slightly raised her eyes to meet Olaf's arrogant and piercing gaze: "In ancient times, the Iceborn and the Wolfborn lived together in the snowy frozen lands, and the two races were constantly at odds."

"You should know that whenever two races clash or compete for territory, it is always you wolf descendants who ultimately lose."

Upon hearing this, Olaf's aura instantly surged violently.

His brows furrowed sharply: "Old grievances, not worth mentioning!"

"Times have changed. In the past, the Wolf Clan was weak while the Iceborn were powerful, but that doesn't mean that Wolf Harbor, which I, Olaf, rule today, will be subordinate to the Iceborn!"

"Yeah?"

Sunafa's lips curled into a faint, cold smile.

"Since the leader believes he is no longer the same as before, then it's the simplest thing to do." She didn't mock or provoke, but exuded composure and confidence, feeling no pressure from the other party's escalating hostility.

"How about we have a match?"