The night wind carried a bone-chilling coldness, and after the day's events, a somber and sorrowful mood enveloped the entire caravan. As night fell, faint cries of mourning echoed from some corners - these were the family members of those who had died in battle that day.
This temporary merchant caravan mostly consisted of kin and brothers. After all, on a long journey, the bond of blood made them closer and dependent on each other in times of danger.
The day's battle had earned Felix a measure of awe. Age could lead to underestimation, but it also starkly highlighted one's achievements.
When the warriors' eyes swept over Felix, they would often unconsciously start discussing something among themselves, occasionally mentioning the phrase 'elven ranger'.
On a small hill not far away, the exceptionally tall captain of the Northern mercenaries was organizing people to gather hay. The members of the merchant caravan might bury their dead back in their hometowns, but these mercenaries, who wandered across the continent, couldn't afford such luxuries.
In the cold, resource-scarce North, although mining brought some income, it was barely enough to prevent starvation. To ensure a somewhat prosperous life for their families and to have savings for old age, these Northerners had to find new ways to survive.
For six hundred years, the Northerners had forged a unique reputation in the mercenary world with the lives of countless men.
This was also why the scattered merchant caravan was willing to pay a high price to hire them.
On the grasslands, bodies couldn't be buried because hungry wolves could smell the rot even if the bodies were buried ten meters deep. They would dig up the corpses greedily, consuming even those infested with maggots.
The Northerners cremated their fallen companions, carrying their ashes in pouches. If they survived, they would bring the ashes back to their hometown. If they fell in the next battle, their ashes would be scattered along with their comrades' amidst the mountains and rivers.
The campfire cast a red glow on Felix's somewhat pale face. The frightened blonde beauty sat opposite him, with a leg of lamb roasting on the fire between them. The lamb turned golden brown, and the dripping fat sizzled upon hitting the flames.
"Want some?" Felix took a few grains of salt from his seasoning box. The salt of this era, slightly green and coarse, was bitter besides being salty. Marina lifted her head to look at Felix, then glanced at the lamb on the spit.
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Perhaps reminded of the day's events, she felt nauseous again. Quickly grabbing a water skin, she took several gulps before turning pale and shaking her head at Felix, whispering, "I can't eat."
She was still just a child, after all.
Felix didn't say much. Seeing blood and undead creatures for the first time could affect one's appetite for days, but it would pass. Once the lamb was crisply roasted, he ground the salt grains into powder and sprinkled them evenly over the lamb, followed by some pepper.
Though he hadn't used his Frost Power in the day's battle, the scent of blood had somewhat stirred this violent force within him. He thought maybe he should eat more spicy food.
When the lamb was ready, Felix pulled out his single-handed sword to cut a piece, then hesitated, frowning.
In truth, after drawing his sword, Felix immediately remembered that he had killed many with it today. Although he had cleaned the blood off after the battle, using it to eat now felt somewhat uncomfortable.
Marina seemed to notice this too. She reached into her small bag embroidered with peonies and took out a small silver knife inlaid with agate.
"Here." The campfire illuminated the delicate features of the blonde beauty, her pale face and unintentional blush particularly captivating, stirring a sense of pity in Felix.
Felix took the silver knife, a slight smile forming on his lips as he said softly, "Thank you."
The sharpened silver blade, adorned with what seemed like a valuable agate, was likely from a tribe on the grasslands, and probably from a high-ranking chieftain. Indeed, as Felix guessed, this silver knife was from a tribal community on the grasslands.
In these tribes, still retaining some primitive rituals, the silver knife was not only used for dining but also as a last weapon for young women to protect their chastity.
Felix's pale, slender fingers gently slid over the blade, the knife moving so fast in his hand that it was just a blur of silver light. In a few breaths, the lamb on the fire was sliced into evenly sized pieces.
After cutting the meat, Felix selected a piece and, under the astonished gaze of the blonde girl, cut it into thin slices as delicate as cicada wings. He placed them on a separate plate and set it in front of her.
Seasoned and accompanied by fruit wine, Felix ate methodically, evenly spreading fine salt on each piece of lamb. His movements were rhythmic, taking a sip of fruit wine after each piece.
Felix had a good appetite, consuming more than half of the twenty-pound lamb leg. Perhaps attracted by Felix's eating, the blonde beauty also felt hungry. She licked her lips, stole a glance at Felix, then picked up a thin slice of meat, dipped it in sauce, and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly.
Once she started, she naturally ate more.
In no time, the lamb leg disappeared into their stomachs. Under Felix's influence, the blonde beauty's appetite opened up, consuming about two pounds of meat. She even let out a small burp while drinking the fruit wine, her face turning bright red with shyness.
"Here." Felix handed the small silver knife back to the blonde beauty.
Marina lowered her head, hesitating to take it. She fumbled in her bag for a while, then pushed a silver object into Felix's hand and ran off as if fleeing.
Only a few meters away did she turn back, her face blushing as she said softly, "It's for you."
Before finishing her sentence, she ran into the wagon like a rabbit, seemingly very afraid of Felix at that moment.
Felix looked at what was in his hand – a silver scabbard that matched the silver knife perfectly. The scabbard was inlaid with gold threads, with the shape of a dragon faintly outlined on it.