Chapter 42: The Interrupted Migration

For the entire chaotic Old World, a Chivalrous Expedition of unprecedented scale might be a major event for local factions, but for the Old World as a whole, it is a trivial matter that causes no tremors.

Because there is never a moment in this godforsaken place when they aren't fighting.

Many scholars have even seriously pondered whether the populations of the various races might just be respawning. Otherwise, how could they sustain wars that have lasted for who knows how many years, remain full of vigor, and even have the spare capacity to dispatch various expeditions and colonists to engage in meaningless interference everywhere?

Generally speaking, however, the Norscan way of life can provide an answer. Simply put: the poorer they are, the more they breed; the more they breed, the poorer they are; and when they truly cannot go on living, they beg the gods.

In any case, under the power of the gods, it is no problem for a mother to pop out a hundred or eighty offspring.

As for whatever you might say about Chaos corruption or the like, that is a matter for later. In short, one must have manpower first to solve everything that follows.

According to the living standards and cultural state of the Norscans, it basically explains why the various races of the world always seem to live in bitterness and deep resentment while still being able to churn out all sorts of populations.

Because the women within those races are basically either giving birth or on the way to giving birth; rarely do they appear outside. Only a small number of unique races, or those already deeply rooted in the Old World where ordinary wars won't cause any issues, can allow women to appear independently.

Otherwise, reproduction is forever the number one priority of a race, and for the poorer the place, the more intuitive this manifestation of craving becomes.

The most typical example is that women will submit to the most powerful warrior and serve him in bed, yearning to leave behind the strongest offspring.

"Counting today, this should be the fortieth one..."

I wonder what the migration has become.

Looking at the exhausted woman sleeping soundly beside him and the filthy traces in the room, Wufuruike scratched his head.

So, by the time Wufuruike began to enter his post-coital clarity, contemplating the meaning of life, it was already his seventh day since entering the Frozen Sea.

During these seven days, in order to maximize the reputation of his great master, he chose some methods that Li Ang might not like, but which were very Norscan.

Simply put, he took the head of that High Priest who had turned into a bird-headed monster and whom he had beheaded, hung it on the prow of the ship, and used relatively simple Norscan enchantment methods to demand his soul serve him, or else he would be sent to feed the Stonehenge.

Under such an effective threat, the High Priest very "counsel-ly" chose to submit.

He knew all too well just how terrifying the power of the most primitive rituals manipulated by that dreadful fellow was.

Those were ritual arrays constructed from the most primitive thoughts from the moment sentient life began to have cognition and logic; they were insane creations that theoretically should not exist in this world at all.

Stonehenge did not bring the first prophet, but the most primitive destruction. When sentient beings first began to have desires, what they pursued was always the destruction of their enemies, not their own survival. Because they could not even understand the concept of life and death, what they sought was the most complete destruction.

So the old man caved, hanging on the Viking longship and honestly serving as a figurehead.

And with the help of the abilities of this Tzeentch God-Chosen's head, Wufuruike was able to begin visiting the major Norsca Tribes around the Frozen Sea in a short period of time.

Wufuruike's choice was also very simple. First, board the longship, use the spatial ability of the old priest's head to zip directly over, and then announce that he had come for the great Star Child, the master of the Broken Lands, Li Ang. Let them go to a better place to live.

If the other party knew of him and also wanted to live a good life, then it was "good for you, good for me, good for everyone." If that didn't work, then he would propose the most primitive Norscan duel of the strong.

As long as he became the chieftain, wouldn't he be able to order everyone to go there? Wufuruike felt he was simply a genius.

As for things like betraying Li Ang, Wufuruike had never even thought about it. Even when the bird-headed man was spouting flowery words at the time, Wufuruike was actually thinking about whether to go back to bring reinforcements or let Li Ang come see for himself. As someone who had personally built the Stonehenge and witnessed many Wonders and celestial changes, Wufuruike believed too much that Li Ang was not human.

Especially when Wufuruike felt that his head and body seemed to be imbued with the aura of life, this simple Norscan had already realized that his master had likely done many things in succession. It allowed him, this little brother and servant, to benefit greatly as well.

Even the scars left from his last duel with someone now looked completely healed to Wufuruike.

It's just that he didn't know why it smelled a bit.

Maybe it was because he hadn't taken a bath.

Wufuruike sniffed, stood up from the bed, and began to put on his armor.

The woman lying on the bed was also awakened by the sound, opened her eyes with a sleepy look, and looked at Wufuruike in front of her, her gaze somewhat hazy.

"Lord Wufuruike, do you still need me to serve you?"

"No need, you just need to follow my instructions and go to the Broken Lands."

After tightening his belt, Wufuruike's voice became firm.

"I am following the oracle—ah, no, it is the order of that lord of ours, to let you live a good life. Now I am your chieftain, so you just follow along."

"But... my lord."

Looking at the fully dressed Wufuruike who was about to leave, this woman with whom he had a fleeting romance, who was also the daughter of the local chieftain, bit her lip, looked at the imposing legendary warrior with bright eyes, and softly voiced their distress.

"We women, and the headmen of Norsca, have no way to pass through the Siren Sea in recent times."

"... Ah?"

Wufuruike, having put on his leather armor, was stunned upon hearing this.

"What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean there's no way to pass through the Siren Sea?"

"Because in the last few months, unknown monsters have awakened in the Siren Sea and are attacking our ships. Even if we want to cross, we can only move along the coastline; there is no way to arrive quickly."

The woman pulled the fur to cover her bruised body, looked at the mighty and heroic man before her, and said softly: "And along the coastline, the Chaos Gods have issued an oracle that it is a forbidden land, absolutely forbidden to pass. There are even their watchtowers and fortresses on the edge of the coastline. For us, passing through those fortresses and checkpoints is an impossible task..."

"Then why didn't I see anything when I came over?"

"Could it be that the power of Wufuruike and the Descender lords is too great, causing them not to dare to appear...?"

Glancing at the inscriptions and Brand constantly appearing on Wufuruike's body due to his emotions, the woman, who looked quite attractive, had a flash of envy in her eyes and said softly.

(End of chapter)