The Old Ones, the creators. According to every religious scripture and historical record, all living beings acknowledge the Old Ones as the creators of this world. They created (or at least accelerated the evolution of) the elves and dwarves. Whether humans were also their creation is uncertain.
Beyond this, Ryan found no detailed records about the Old Ones in any books he could read. There were only scattered references. Ryan had asked many people and even gods, such as the God of Justice, who often responded to his followers' prayers.
Unfortunately, it wasn't that they were deliberately hiding information from Ryan—they themselves didn't know. The God of Justice, being an outsider god, knew nothing about the Old Ones. However, he did tell Ryan that Ulric might know something.
Ryan knew this wasn't the right time to ask questions, but the matter of the Old Ones was too important to him, directly related to his mission.
The white holy fire suddenly flared, its sparks landing on Ryan, scorching his skin. Ryan gritted his teeth, enduring the burning pain. He knew this was the price for his slight impertinence.
Mortals typically cannot make requests of gods. It is considered blasphemy and audacious.
Especially with the fiery-tempered Ulric, Ryan was taking a gamble.
But he had confidence.
First, as a White Wolf Knight, his questioning tone was not quite a demand. Ulric was quite protective of his White Wolf Knights and wouldn't punish or kill him.
Second, he bet that Ulric saw him differently.
"I don't know much about the Old Ones, but I do know a few things. But kid, you know what? I hate answering questions. I really hate it!" Ulric said impatiently, the white holy fire flickering. "Enough talk. Bring the head of that great unclean creature to my temple, and I will forgive your impertinence!"
With that, the white holy fire disappeared completely into the cold air.
Ryan exhaled softly. The plan succeeded. Ulric had stated his terms, and Ryan could only comply. Bargaining was out of the question.
At that moment, Ryan's bracelet suddenly lit up. "Ryan, where are you now?"
It was Archbishop Innocent of the Nord Justice Church.
"We're at the foot of Skavell Mountain, Archbishop," Ryan said, raising his wrist.
"Then you are heading to Myrto Haven. The Paladin squad from the Justice Church has already arrived there ahead of you. Ryan, your old friend is also there," Archbishop Innocent's voice remained serious. "They will join you. Anything else?"
"How goes the war in the north?"
"The barbarians are advancing south in three columns, led by the barbarian chieftain Ulfrek the Wanderer. Their total number is about twenty thousand. Currently, the Nord Navy is engaged in fierce battles with the barbarians at sea," Archbishop Innocent indicated that the situation was still under control.
"That's good to hear." Ryan breathed a sigh of relief.
Northern barbarians were not typically a threat to the south, but everything changed with the arrival of Chaos.
The barbarians' ships were conjured directly by the Chaos gods, and their fully armored bodies were gifts from the gods.
When a barbarian warrior had experienced countless bloody battles and pleased the dark gods, he would truly fall and become a Chaos warrior. The Chaos armor would appear on him directly, without need for technology or forging. It was that unreasonable.
However, once they became Chaos warriors, these barbarians could no longer live as normal humans. For humans, even the bravest and most warlike could find solace in a warm hearth, a wife's embrace, and good food between wars. But not Chaos warriors. Once they truly fell, cold and slaughter would forever accompany them. These earthly pleasures would no longer bring them any joy. Only through constant killing and sacrifices could they seek brief respite through the dark gods' blessings. Unfortunately, this respite was fleeting, and they would soon crave the next sacrifice.
Food was no longer necessary for their survival; bloodshed was.
With reduced logistical pressures, the barbarians could continually gather armies to raid southward. The Kingdom of Nord in the north, southern ports of the Empire, Bretonnia in the west, and even the southern lands of the Southlands had all seen their presence. However, due to logistical constraints (since Chaos warriors were still a minority), the closest Kingdom of Nord remained their primary target for perennial raids.
The Kingdom of Nord had long prepared for the barbarians. All major northern port cities were fortified with strong defenses. After the establishment of the New Empire, the barbarians could no longer gain much from their southern raids against the Empire. This forced them to look further, and in recent years, the knightly kingdom of Bretonnia had faced repeated attacks from the barbarians.
In the camp, all was silent. The mercenaries and guards, tired from a long day's journey, had found places to rest. Only the burning bonfire and the night watchmen sat around the fire talking.
"What cold weather!" The leading group around the fire were members of the Blood Axe Mercenary Group, including Weert and Simon, warming themselves by the flames.
"No choice, it will get colder in Nord. In another month or two, the seas and rivers will freeze completely. We'll be heading back to the main camp by then," Weert said, poking the fire with a stick.
The bonfire was a gift from Ulric, the White Wolf War God. As long as the bonfire burned, ordinary Chaos creatures wouldn't approach it at night, protected by the war god's blessing.
The Blood Axe Mercenary Group's main camp was in a corner of Winterhold. Unlike the high land prices in the Empire, Nord was vast and sparsely populated, making even the capital's land prices relatively cheap.
"I miss the Winter Festival in Winterhold, and Aunt Lena's pies," Simon said, looking at the fire, reminiscing about last year's good times. Back then, the fully-staffed Blood Axe Mercenary Group had stayed in Winterhold, enjoying a wonderful Winter Festival.
Now, with the group reduced by half, even completing a commission and earning a large sum of money made it hard to return to Winterhold with smiles for the new year. Moreover, with Boris's firm stance against further collaboration with Garland, the Blood Axe Mercenary Group would inevitably face suppression from the Garland Council. These women had considerable influence in Nord and the Empire. It was uncertain if they could continue to live their small lives in Nord.
"Do you think we could use this opportunity to establish connections with the Imperial Royal Mage Academy? The wizards... should need some manpower too, right?" someone in the group suggested.
"You mean the seastone? This..." Weert frowned.
It was indeed an option. Mats had to contact the Imperial Royal Mage Academy to sell the seastone. The Blood Axe Mercenaries could try to use this opportunity to introduce themselves and seek some work.
"This might be worth a shot. I've heard that the Imperial Alchemist Supreme, Balthazar Gelt, is seeking mercenaries to help with a task. And, we might consider leaving Nord. If we want to make a name for Blood Axe... staying in Nord won't cut it. Perhaps, we should follow the caravan to Marienburg?" Weert muttered.
"Master, I mean, the leader's injuries won't heal anytime soon. Shouldn't you be making decisions now?" Banda, sitting by the fire, spoke, the firelight reflecting off his face.
Before Banda could finish, a mercenary stood up immediately. "Banda! What do you mean? That's disrespectful to the leader. As long as Boris is our leader, you shouldn't say such things!"
"But the leader isn't here! Master is the deputy leader, so he should be making decisions, right?" Banda also stood up and confronted the mercenary.
In the midst of their confrontation, Weert suddenly signaled everyone to stop.
"Wait~ What's that sound?"
"The ground, the ground is shaking~"
"An earthquake?"
The mercenaries stood up. Weert, with his experience, saw the horses tied nearby neighing continuously, sensing something was wrong. He immediately shouted, "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!!!"
As soon as he spoke, several sturdy minotaurs holding large axes charged into the camp from the shadows.
"It's the beastmen!!!"
Tonight, I have something to attend to, so I updated earlier. It might be a bit short, don't mind the details~ (escape)