The last 2 months have been extremely challenging. We're close to the end of winter now, not that you can tell by looking anywhere. The dark north mountains are covered in a layer of permafrost year-round, and it snows 9 out of 12 months in the year. Even with all the snow, you can feel it warming just a touch, and the sun is finally peering over the peaks from time to time.
Fannar, bless his frost-bitten bald head, is stuck in the Northern Frosts fighting the Annual Giant Wars. He usually wouldn't have been needed, but for some reason, the giants came in more significant numbers this year. Even after an untold number of years, we still can find no rhyme or reason for the giants' efforts. All we know is they come in the two coldest months every year.
Since I am now 8 months pregnant, I should be behaving differently. If I were a mortal at this time, I doubt I'd be doing anything but staying warm, eating my fill, and making final preparations for a little ball of joy. Unfortunately, ever since the seal on my cultivation broke and she devoured my Ki, I have to eat close to twice my weight in magic beasts. If I don't, my body would be skin and bones from all the nutrients she sucks out of me.
Of course, I've tried eating spirit fruits and spiritual cuisine from the few spirit chefs we have, but this little glutton kicks me in the kidney every time I delay a craving. You might ask what I crave, or I should say, what does she desire, and the answer is barbeque meat. The smokier, the better.
Oh, and don't think being a 7th-stage golden master body refiner makes me impervious, especially with a rank one body refiner inside your flesh. No matter how I control my muscles to protect myself, it still feels like a sucker punch. But at least I'm not throwing up. I did once when the little she-devil got my stomach with an uppercut. You might ask why it never happened again? Well, that's because she figured out I couldn't eat more meat when she did. She is a selfish little Frosted Meat Monster who refuses to commit that sacrilege again.
If it was happening to anyone else, it would be hilarious for me, not that I take pleasure in the misery of others. The first time the 'Meat Princess' kicked me over food, I was sitting in the main hall feasting with a couple raiding buddies from my times in the east. So here I am, eating some fruit while I'm waiting for a boar to be brought out, then pow sucker punched.
It caught me so off guard, I was mid-laugh with one arm around Emma, and pow, I've got Emma in a one-arm bear hug of doom and punched Elrick into the fire while gasping for dear life. The silence and shock on everyone's face was priceless. Luckily for my two friends, I let them go before she could kick me again.
If only that was the only indecent. I've since accidentally mind you destroyed multiple doors and tables, broken the midwife's hand, and almost strangled a food vendor. Ok, the last one was on purpose. I mean, the bastard had one job. I paid him three fourth-rank ki stones a day to keep 2 Tundra boar legs warm, so I never had to wait in line. The Freeze dried idiot tries to give me one and says I'm eating too much.
Anyway, I am on my way to the Seer to find the due date and time. I'm super big at the moment and moody as hell. I'm walking down the street in the snow while eating a boar leg with an I will eat your soul facial expression. I'm talking Fred Flinstone Bam Bam style munching this leg while Placing all my hope; the Seer says she'll be out soon.
Finally reaching the Seer's hut at the far back of the village, I politely step in and make my way to the fire. No matter how impervious to temperature a cultivator may get, fire in the cold still feels good.
After waiting a while, the current supplicant steps out in a jovial mood. Seeing this, I immediately know the Seer is in a good mood. A happy Seer is a straightforward seer. Likewise, a lousy moody seer speaks only in vague riddles and proverbs. Since I'm here for specifics, I didn't waste a trip.
Bowing to the blind woman, she beckons me to follow. As The Gods' wisdom foretells, to receive knowledge and wisdom, one must sacrifice something of equal value. All seers sacrifice their eyesight in exchange for seeing the world through the eyes of the divine. After finding a position that's not awkward or painful, I take out the offerings from my space ring. 8 5th-stage beast pelts of the finest quality, two bottles of my best mead, and a blade made by my husband worth the price of a medium-sized house.
The seer takes the offerings and passes a bowl with various bones engraved in runes inside. Then, making a cut on my wrist, allowing the blood to coat the bones, I seal the wound with my Ki as it starts to heal at visible speeds.
Passing the bowl back, she shakes it a couple of times. Then, using a mystic ability, the blood flash boils, generating a mist that hovers overhead. The seer hums as her white eyes roll back like she's possessed. Her eyes close, and she shakes for a moment before they open drastically.
"Your child will step into this world in three weeks on the day of TYR. A good omen for one who seeks justice." The SEER's dead eyes glow eerily as if witnessing a scene yet to come.
"Thank you, great seer. May we meet again," I replied with every ounce of respect I could muster. Anyone willing to sacrifice themselves for any reason deserves respect for their convictions.
Focused on leaving before she tries to give some funky dark fortune, I quickly and politely take my leave. Although I respect seers, I still think most of it is shady fortune-telling. Pulling out another boar leg for the trip home and off we go.
After arriving home, I prepare a letter to Fannar. As soon as I notify him of the date, I'm sure he will rush back. Gods take pity on the fool who stands in his way. I pass the letter to a thrall and have them expedite it to the front. With winter coming to an end, the Giant raids should follow.
I pass the next couple of weeks, finding myself more irritable by the day. I don't know if it's the sheer volume of food I'm now consuming or the lack of word from the front. I've sent a total of three letters, so either they have a lot of chaos at the front, the oaf is dead, which is highly unlikely, or someone is intercepting the letters.
With only four days left until the delivery, I think it's time I take drastic actions, And I am Madd with a double d. So I throw a thick raven cloak on, wear the hood and make my way to the hunters association. They are an association that is in nearly every clan with but 2 jobs. The first is to keep the feast hall in stock for all occasions, and the second is for information or scouting.
Reaching my destination, I find Inari. She is a descendant of a former thrall from the east who took more after the father's side if you ask me. But you'd be hard-pressed to find a hunter better at stealth than this vixen. So I pull her to the side and put in a request.
"Ini, I'm so hungry lately, and boar just doesn't seem to be 'enough.' Can I put in a request for an orc? They have a better taste and more meat per kill. What do you think" I ask the girl, a full head shorter than me.
"Lija, you'll be as big as an orc if you keep eating like this. What about sea lion from the south" the dark-haired beauty replies.
"It won't be long now, girly, just holding it in. Tell Fannar comes home at least. Got any news" I ask, winking at the girl to tell her something is up.
The girl frowns about and seems to be contemplating for a moment.
"All is well on the front, and they should return soon. I guess I can get you some orc, but you have to pay upfront." She answers back, smirking at me.
I toss over a bag of spirit stones and a crafting token. Fannar makes them for favors. When we need help, the token is our favor. One labor-free crafting session, you provide materials and what you want, and he stops all other orders and completes yours first.
Many a Northman would rather trade for this token than any other riches a cultivator may have. After all, a custom-made weapon is worth more than a pill or high-grade manual to most. It can be the difference between completing a task or failing.
"My, you must be ravenous to toss this trinket out. How soon do you wish It completed," she asks before taking on the task.
"3 days at most. Two would be preferred," I reply, a bit of desperation leaking into my eyes.
She nods her head and lets me know she'll head out immediately. Catching the underlying meaning of my request, everything should work out. Thanking her again for the help, I head back to the house to take a long nap next to the fire. Hopefully, I will dream of summer. The scent of burning coal and smelted steel topped with a hint of soot would be amazing.