Chapter 395 Goat Milk
The North, a hellish place where no one lives and people are freezing to death. Even Orel couldn't help but rub his arms. His fierce and cold iron-blue eyes, colder than the icy plains, stared intently at any movement in the deadly whiteness before him.
At this moment, the assassin leader's aura was so low that even Daniela didn't dare to talk to him.
Again, even saints and even gods are still fundamentally human, not some transcendental being invulnerable to weapons, fire, or water. The commotion caused by the avalanche was clearly heard even by the support team kilometers away. Unfortunately, there were several Imperial patrols operating nearby. Even with his utmost anxiety, Orel couldn't just abandon his group to investigate. He sent out his crows and prayed that Azuka was nearby, alert and reliable.
In his opinion, the tyrant looked weaker than a cat, and would fall down if poked or broken if touched. If he was buried underneath, he would probably not even have the chance to call for help.
If someone so afraid of the cold were to die alone in this freezing wilderness... No, it couldn't be. This guy always planned everything out, and with Marcylin and Azuka by his side, it shouldn't happen... But what if? What if it was just such an unfortunate situation—
...Damn Sandro, damn the Empire, damn the Yankees. Ole felt his eyelids twitching with nervousness, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth and thought: If that guy is really so incompetent, he must find all those bastards and tear them into pieces one by one, literally pieces.
A familiar hoarse cry interrupted his wandering thoughts. The assassin raised his head suddenly and saw his crow swooping down precisely and landing on his leather-armored forearm.
Ole quickly untied the letterbox, his hands trembling slightly, perhaps from the unbearable chill of the icy plains or something else entirely. Then, standing by, Daniga saw his leader calm down visibly. He casually pulled some dried meat from his pocket and tossed it to the crow. Then, turning to him, he ordered, "Move toward the dead woods southeast—they're all still alive."
After a long journey and having finally escaped from the avalanche, the civilian army finally began to take a short rest. The professor curled himself up under a thick cloak, squatted on a dead tree stump, drank boiled snow water in small sips, and finally felt that he was alive again.
Leon Krove hesitated for a moment, then slowly moved a few steps to the side of the black-haired young man, accompanied by the Imperial soldier who had just spoken. No one stopped them, but Leon could sense at least three or five gazes from all directions, subtly focused on the two of them. If they made any unsettling move, they would be beheaded in the next second.
"Mr. Ghost..." Leon's voice was dry, and he almost didn't dare to look the other person in the eye. An inexplicable shame and uneasiness was burning in his heart: "I, we controlled some people because they wanted to sneak away and find the nearby Imperial Army..."
He knew that this was a really stupid thing to do - these people had saved their lives by relying on the relief and food from the People's Army, but now that they had recovered a little and were about to leave the dangerous ice field, they were thinking of joining the enemies of the People's Army.
But these imperial soldiers also had their own legitimate reasons. For example, they had relatives and friends in the imperial army, and they didn't dare or want to associate with the "rebels". They were worried about punishment from the imperial army and even harm to their families... Leon couldn't help but swallow his saliva and whispered, "Do you think we should..."
Killed.
"Alright, let them go. We'll follow the old rules." Ghost raised his head calmly and looked in the direction of Marshilin. "Ore didn't bring much supplies, so this time we'll only give them two days' worth of rations and a warm coat."
"But before I go, there are some things I need to make clear."
His smoky gray eyes, still sharp and bright under the white steam created by the hot water, spoke softly, yet everyone around him pricked up their ears. "The People's Army does not kill prisoners or harm innocent people. We are letting you go today simply because we believe that the Imperial soldiers are also innocent civilians of Silver Iris caught up in the war. But the People's Army is not a fool. If you dare lead the Imperial army to encircle and suppress us, we will show no mercy."
The cold, murderous intent flashed by, like an illusion. Seeing Leon and the Imperial squad leader beside him staring blankly at him, the ghost paused and continued expressionlessly, "You were captured and released by the 'Slave Army.' Your life in the Imperial Army will definitely not be easy. If you are oppressed to the point of no return, or if you realize your mistake, the People's Army is willing to always open its doors to the oppressed."
Leon's nose suddenly felt sore. This rough old man was almost moved to tears by such a dull and dry speech. The imperial soldier beside him was probably also moved. He subconsciously took a step forward - but then, the sudden appearance of the cold scimitar at his neck made him shudder with fear and almost fell to the ground.
"Imperial soldier?" The assassin, suddenly appearing from the shadows, raised an eyebrow coldly, examining the man's unusual uniform. Seeing the man practically pissing himself, he tutted his tongue at the ghost's slightly warning gaze and sheathed his knife.
"Don't get close to him, keep a safe distance." He warned coldly, "If you do that again, I'll just slit your neck."
He stopped looking at the terrified Imperial soldier and instead carefully observed the tyrant, who was clearly curled up from the cold. His arms and legs were where they should be... Tsk, how did Azuka take care of this guy? He looked noticeably thinner than the last time they met, his face looked sickly, and the tip of his nose was red from the cold. He looked a little pitiful.
I told him not to come to the North, not to come to the North—now it’s over! The assassin thought indignantly, he has become a sick cat curled up in a ball!
The tyrant blinked, still looking that weird, mechanical expression: "Good afternoon, Ole."
The assassin ignored him, staring at him for a moment, then suddenly snorted loudly. Seeing the man looking back at him in confusion, seemingly not understanding his displeasure at all, he couldn't help but snort again.
professor:"……"
He asked sincerely, "Do you have a cold? Is your nose stuffy?"
Ole was almost suffocated by him.
"He's fine, just having a tantrum." Marcylin unceremoniously pushed her friend aside, looked at the professor's face with some worry, and asked in a low voice, "You look so bad, are you really okay?"
"...It's okay." The professor said expressionlessly, "Azuka used magic to block the cold wind around me, and Multi-Function Communicator Number One is here—I'm not that fragile."
Ole glared at the red-haired girl in annoyance, but did not refute. He just took out a warm water bag carefully wrapped in thick fur from his arms and threw it into the professor's hand.
"Drink it if you want." He said stiffly.
"What is this?" The black-haired young man looked down at the water bag in confusion, then raised his head and looked at him.
"Poison," the assassin said angrily, "specially used to poison idiots like you who don't know how to take care of their own bodies."
"You want to poison me?" The emperor looked genuinely puzzled. "Why? With your strength, it would be more efficient to just break my neck."
Ole: “…”
If one day his blood vessels burst and he died on the spot, the assassin thought expressionlessly, it would definitely be because of the tyrant's anger.
Marcylin leaned closer and smelled a familiar scent. She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Hot goat's milk with plenty of shredded ginger and spices. This is good stuff. The local nobles like to use it to keep warm. Don't pay attention to this duplicitous bastard. He must have been holding it in his arms all the way here."
The black-haired young man looked stunned for a moment, then blinked slowly, "So that's how it is—thank you, Ole."
Ole looked away uncomfortably, pretending to observe his surroundings carefully, but his ears were red. "...Drink it quickly, I only brought one pot—and by the way, what's that Azuka guy trying to do with that ice sculpture?"
He was referring to the savior, standing not far away with his eyes closed. He hadn't joined in the heartwarming team-building between the reunited protagonists and the arch-villain, and the surrounding soldiers didn't dare to approach, only observing him with awe and awe from the corner of their eyes.
"Listen to the voice of the 'wind' and find out where Sandra is going." The professor said concisely.
He opened the water bag, took a sip from the bottle cap, and frowned slightly, seemingly disliking the goat's milk, whose fishy smell couldn't be masked even with the generous addition of spices. But the black-haired young man still drank a few sips obediently, then handed the water bag to Maxine and Ole. "Would you like some?"
The red-haired girl was stunned for a moment, then she smiled happily and carefreely: "Great, it would be even better if there was some wine. This damn place is so cold!"
Just then, Azuka opened his eyes and walked towards the professor's direction, the snow making almost no sound under his feet.
"Sandra has escaped," the blond youth said coldly, expressionless. "The wind has picked up her whereabouts, but she's getting farther and farther away from here, deeper and deeper into the North. I suspect Sandra is planning to attack the royal family of Fernloth."
"That's like the queen's style," the professor commented coolly. "Never mind her for now—would you like some hot goat's milk, too?"
"He doesn't like goat's milk." Aole, standing beside him, lazily joked, "Our princess hates it because it's too fishy."
Azuka glanced at him dimly, but did not get angry on the spot. However, Ole was suddenly choked by a stream of air and immediately began to cough violently. He glared at people while coughing, but could not utter a word.
Why did you provoke him by opening your mouth? Mashilin shook her head helplessly. She had just been talking nonsense about whether to poison him or not—and now she had provoked the petty princess to take revenge.
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