Dead, all of them dead.
Siv's heart pounded violently.
She squeezed her horse's sides with all her might as the warhorse galloped across the icy plain, its hooves kicking up a cloud of white dust.
Behind her, the sounds of killing echoed in the night, the snarls of hunting dogs mingling with the screams of warriors.
Why? Why had it come to this?!
Just days ago, she had been sitting in a warm tent, listening to her father tell stories of the tribe's glory, her brothers laughing and playing, her mother gently arranging her hair.
She had thought her future would be like her father's, leading the tribe in conquests across the snow plains.
But that feast had destroyed everything.
Her father, Harold Frostmane, suddenly collapsed during the feast, his body convulsing as he let out agonized howls, dying before everyone's eyes.
In the days that followed, her mother, brothers, and sisters died one after another.
Some were executed, others died in unexplained "accidents."
Their heads were hung on stone pillars, blood dripping onto the white snow, a red that hurt the eyes.
Her mind still echoed with her brother Sigel's recent words.
"Siv, listen." Sigel gripped her shoulders, his voice urgent: "Run south, and never come back."
She shook her head desperately, her eyes full of tears: "No! Brother, I..."
Sigel suddenly grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to look at him: "Listen! Run south! Don't come back! And don't even think about revenge!"
Without further words, Sigel used all his strength to whip the horse, then drew his battle axe and turned to face the pursuers.
"Ha!" he growled low, his blood boiling.
His eyes turned red, the tattoos on his body suddenly lit up, his muscles expanding like rocks, transforming into a raging war god.
Boiling Blood Berserker!
Sacrificing his life to burn his own blood in exchange for a brief moment of invincible power!
"Come, scum! Let's go to hell together!"
He laughed wildly, raising his giant axe to meet the enemies surging from the darkness.
Siv's heart felt torn apart. She wanted to rush forward and fight alongside her brother, but the warhorse was already carrying her south at full gallop.
...
The cold had not yet completely retreated, and the river on the western side of the Crimson Tide Domain still carried the icy breath of winter.
Every spring and autumn, this river welcomed migrating fish.
They swam upstream to spawn in the shallow waters, and after the young fish hatched, they returned to deeper waters with the current.
The natives had known this natural pattern since ancient times, but their fishing methods remained primitive—poking fish with wooden forks and scooping with bamboo baskets.
So although they could barely fill their stomachs, compared to the river's true potential, it was like a drop in the bucket.
Thus, under Vaerik's orders, a hundred fishermen headed to the riverbank and began an organized fishing industry development plan.
They used wooden stakes and stones to build a simple temporary dock.
Carpenters were also gathered, leading the fishermen to work day and night building fishing boats.
They worked tirelessly, finally producing ten functional fishing boats within two weeks, preparing for the future fish tide.
The fishing industry here had undergone tremendous changes in these two weeks.
But no one expected their first large-scale fishing operation would come so quickly.
The cause was an important piece of intelligence Vaerik received yesterday from his Daily Intelligence System:
[1: Tomorrow, a large number of fish will arrive in the river on the western side of the Crimson Tide Domain.]
This news excited him greatly, and he immediately ordered: "All fishermen gather at the riverside dock, prepare for full-scale fishing."
So the next day, the riverbank was crowded with people, a hundred fishermen lined up neatly waiting for the lord's orders.
On the simple but already substantial wooden dock, Lord Vaerik stood high, surveying everyone:
"Everyone! Today we will conduct the Crimson Tide Domain's first large-scale fishing operation!
Do you remember how desolate this place was a month ago? But look now, we have boats, fishing nets, a dock—all the result of your hard work.
We no longer just wait for fate's charity, but use our own hands to grasp the future!
Today everything is ready. We just need to reach out and let everyone in the Crimson Tide Domain know that the days of hunger are over!
May we return with a full load!"
The fishermen were inspired by Vaerik's words, raising their nets and harpoons, shouting in unison: "Return with a full load!"
However, Luke, the fishing officer beside Vaerik, showed a hint of indescribable anxiety in his eyes.
"Will there really be fish?"
Over the past month, Vaerik's judgments had been repeatedly proven correct, forcing Luke and others to believe.
But the problem was, this was fishing!
Fishing depended greatly on luck. Even the most experienced fishermen found it difficult to predict which day would bring a bountiful catch and which day would see empty nets.
He had been somewhat surprised when he received Vaerik's notice yesterday.
Why was the lord so certain they would have a large harvest today?
What if they didn't?
If today's river catch was minimal, that inspiring speech would become a joke.
And the fishermen, who had prepared hopefully for half a month, would end up with nothing.
The fishermen's morale taking a hit was a small matter; more importantly, would the lord become angry out of embarrassment?
What would happen to him then?
Would the lord strip him naked and throw him into the river as bait?
Luke secretly glanced at Vaerik and found that the latter wasn't worried at all.
He stood there with a faint smile, as if he already saw the fish swarming on the river surface.
"Is this the bearing of a lord..." Luke was somewhat entranced.
At that moment, Vaerik interrupted Luke's wild thoughts: "Is everything ready?"
"Ready," Luke hurriedly replied.
Vaerik nodded: "Then let's begin."
Luke took a deep breath, stood on the high platform, and loudly issued the command: "Brothers, proceed according to the original plan!"
The fishermen had been waiting for some time and immediately began working together.
According to Vaerik's plan, today's fishing operation would be divided into three groups to ensure maximum efficiency.
The first group was the main force, composed of ten fishing boats.
The fishermen skillfully controlled the boats, setting up seine nets in the middle of the river channel, forming a huge network barrier.
The second group was the small-scale fishing team.
With relatively fewer people, they were responsible for casting nets in the shallow waters along the shore to catch fish approaching the bank.
The fishermen operated skillfully, quickly throwing fishing nets into the water, with mesh spacing just right for catching smaller fish.
The third group was a team using traditional fishing tools.
They held harpoons, quickly detecting in the water, and as soon as they spotted fish, they would forcefully strike, catching fleeing fish.
Some fishermen set traps along the shore.
These simple yet effective tools could efficiently catch fish that wouldn't approach the nets, further supplementing the catch.