Chapter 2 Imprisonment

“Ouch!”

The female warrior blew the bone whistle. The short and clear whistle spun in the air, and the big-horned deer under her jumped lightly across a mountain ravine following the sound of the whistle.

Nova instinctively hugged his mount's neck tightly. The animal's muscular body rippled beneath his hands, its short, rough brown fur lustrous and shiny from the care it had received from the aliens.

They were practically half-forced to be taken away. Nova couldn't help but recall that sight. He couldn't see clearly; without his glasses, everything in the distance was blurry. But his intuition told him that the other person was indeed observing him—in that instant, he understood the captain's feelings. A terrifying, overwhelming sense of oppression poured down on him, like towering mountains formed by ocean waves, shocking him.

The female warrior sat behind him, loosely controlling the reins. Nova adjusted his sitting position and glanced behind him: the captain and his crew weren't treated so well. If the professor hadn't nearly broken his lame leg on that short stretch of mountain road, he would have been among those lagging behind, breathless on foot. However, the deer-riding aliens didn't let anyone fall behind.

...The situation seems to be not good.

Nova dropped his eyes expressionlessly. That person clearly held a special status, and their attitude would determine the tribe's attitude toward outsiders like them.

The professor was completely immersed in his own thoughts. He looked very calm and didn't realize that there was anything wrong with the way he looked almost in the arms of a woman. But the captain couldn't help but think of the noble ladies he occasionally saw at the port, sitting sideways on their horses with their arms around their waists by gentlemen.

This strange visual experience was a bit funny. The other person was still wearing that wrinkled expensive shirt, and his slightly curly black hair made the young man's face look particularly pale. Even old Jason looked more energetic than him.

But soon, he lost the heart to secretly tease the other party. The aliens crossed the gentle slope and entered a forest. The path became increasingly rugged and difficult to navigate. The trees had grown taller than they knew. The sunlight filtered through the green treetops, casting mottled shadows. From time to time, fallen tree trunks piled up in a chaotic manner, blocking their path. The giant deer could easily leap over them, startling some colorful small lizard dragons into a swift escape. But the humans had to use their hands and feet to climb, and the moss grew everywhere, making it slippery and easy to fall.

The air was exceptionally humid, reeking of the salty ocean air. The trees enveloped the place tightly, like a warm bathtub. The steam quickly dampened everyone's hair, threatening to clog even their pores—until, after an indeterminate amount of time, a cool breeze suddenly blew in from afar. The enchanting, soft air caressed their skin, and everyone felt a sense of relief.

The giant deer cried out, and with a long whistle, they broke into a rapid run. The forest was left behind them, and the mountains suddenly rose from the ground like a miracle, pressing down with an unmatched momentum, completely occupying the view.

Nova heard the apprentice Baru's screams. The aliens dragged the sailors onto the deer's backs. The skinny apprentice was the worst off, hanging diagonally from the deer's back by his waist—while the professor's mount, without hesitation, plunged into a narrow, inconspicuous entrance.

His vision darkened, and in the darkness, the sharp cliff rocks almost pressed against his cheeks. The wind whistled past his ears, and Nova quickly hunched his shoulders. If he hit the rock wall at this speed, he would be instantly scraped off a piece of flesh. Looking down from above, he could see their team completely swallowed up by the mountains, accompanied by a long whistle. Soon, no trace of them could be seen.

Above the clouds, a shadow shining in the sun whistled impatiently, then suddenly dived down, dropped something in mid-air, and flapped its wings away towards the top of the mountain.

By the time Nova dismounted from the giant deer's back, his legs were weak. He felt dizzy, the wind still whistling in his ears, but he didn't bother running to vomit—before him lay a full-scale village, with crude houses built of earth and stone. At the door of each house stood a strange long pole with a short bar embedded in the top. Long wind banners of various colors fluttered in the wind, reflecting the clear blue sky and majestic snow-capped mountains in the distance.

A low sigh echoed nearby, and the captain and the others were visibly stunned—until the professor was half-pushed, half-coerced by these seemingly friendly alien warriors and taken alone into a mud house. They left him a pot of water and a small piece of hard "bread" and slammed the door shut.

Nova stood there in a daze for a moment, then limped and tried to push the door - as expected, it was locked. He pressed his ear against the wall and faintly heard the sailors' panicked shouts, but the sound soon disappeared.

“…”

What's that? He slowly frowned. The other party had left him food and water, clearly not intending to kill him immediately. Suddenly, the various bloody sacrificial rituals that had been prevalent during the divine wars of the last century came to mind. No matter which world, the life of a stranger, in the eyes of some religious fanatics, was far more precious than the heart and flesh of livestock.

The professor slowly moved to the bed that ached at the mere sight of it. The stone headboard was carved with faint patterns, blurred by the passage of time. But if one examined it carefully, one could see that it was the same swirling pattern found on the wristbands and door curtains, the mark of Utoska, the god of storms.

In the Silver Iris Empire, many bards like to secretly carve this pattern on their bed boards, hoping to gain the protection of the storm god who represents "unpredictability" and seek unpredictable inspiration.

Nova had never remembered the priests of Utoska, the god of storms, practicing human sacrifice. Although direct information about this deity was scarce, at least from the few fragments of text that had been passed down, he wasn't a deity that sought negative emotions.

If Nova were still sitting in his office at White Tower University, given a little more time, he could have determined the era from which the lines formed. But now, the surroundings grew increasingly quiet, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. The black-haired young man pinched the bridge of his nose through his gloves. The burning sensation in his nasal cavity told him that he was running a fever and was gradually losing his ability to move.

It would be best if there was a cup of coffee, he said to himself, but unfortunately, you need to rest now. Your arms are sore and weak, your ankles are swollen and numb, your breathing is rapid and trembling, and your mind is about to fall into an endless and terrifying drowsiness - but when you touch your chest, your heart is still beating, and you can still control your limbs, so breathe, keep breathing... Now, your brain has concluded that you need a deep sleep.

In the dim and simple room, the shirt and trousers that were wrinkled and sticky from being soaked in sea water were thrown on the ground. The stranger fell quietly and mechanically on the cold and hard bed, curled up hard, and a few weak moans came out of his throat uncontrollably.

He wanted to scratch himself with his fingers, but because the gloves were tightly tied to his hands, he only left some subtle red marks on his collarbone and shoulders.

The sun outside the window sets in the west as time passes, and the person on the bed is swallowed by the shadows that climb up from the ankles until he falls into a near-comatose sleep.

…

"God's favored one."

The tall female warrior, with fiery red hair and deep eyes, was wild and beautiful. She stood at the entrance of the village and immediately greeted the newcomer.

"Sorry, I'm a little late." The other party looked at her gently with a hint of apology: "Ezra got a little angry with me halfway."

The bad-tempered dragon cub was annoyed by the scorching sun, and was impatient to follow them all the way. Seeing the other group entering the New Canyon, he simply threw his annoying master off his back - after all, his master could go home by himself.

It was getting dark and the wind was getting stronger, blowing up the cloak of the God-favored One, making his figure look particularly slender and upright.

The female warrior shook her head. "As you ordered, the intruders were separated and locked up. Only the leader was a good fighter, but not as strong as me. As for the black-haired guy, I don't think he needs to do heavy work. Other than that, I didn't find anything unusual."

"Thank you for your hard work, Lamina." The God-favored One nodded slightly at her.

"It's easy to deal with them, it's not hard at all." Lamina clicked her tongue. If the sailor who said "it can be dealt with easily" heard this, the expression on his face would probably be very interesting.

She paused, then asked curiously, "Is that black-haired fellow the noble mentioned in Granny Naka's story? Someone who doesn't have to work for food, or even dress themselves or walk?"

She thought of those impressive, sharp, cold, smoky gray eyes, which always gave off a subtly offensive, superior vibe when they looked at people. Fortunately, there was no unpleasant greed or contempt in that person's eyes, otherwise she would definitely make him suffer.

"Yes, a noble." The God-Favoured One walked towards the village. He seemed to be thinking about something, but when he noticed the other man's expression becoming serious, he added, "Don't worry, I will take care of it."

Lamina didn't follow. She stood there, biting her lip. After a moment's hesitation, she whispered, "...God's Chosen One, is there something wrong with the Wall of Sighs?"

Her expression was exceptionally serious, concealing a subtle fear and uneasiness. "In three hundred years, no one has successfully broken through from the other side of the wall."

The figure of the God's Favored One paused. He had his back to the tribe, the edges of his golden hair dyed a rich blood-red by the setting sun, and his tone was frighteningly calm.

"Lamina, this storm from three hundred years ago has been raging for too long and is already showing signs of subsiding." He said soothingly, sounding pointed, "And the wind is always so unpredictable..."

"Don't worry. Nothing can touch the Windrunner's lair." The God's Chosen One's voice gradually grew colder. The same terrifying sense of oppression that once intimidated outsiders once again rose from this seemingly gentle and peaceful young man, causing his people to hold their breath in awe. "I promise that the wind will rise again and tear to pieces anything that harms the Natalin people—no matter what it is."