Dead, all dead.
Sif’s heart pounded fiercely.
She squeezed the horse’s belly with all her might, and the warhorse galloped wildly across the icy snowfield, hooves kicking up a white mist.
The cries of battle behind her echoed in the night, the howl of hounds mingling with the warriors’ screams.
Why? Why did it turn out this way?!
Just days ago, she sat in a warm tent, listening to her father recounting the tribe’s glory, her brothers laughing and playing, her mother gently tidying her hair.
She thought she would lead her people across the snowfield like her father in the future.
But that banquet destroyed everything completely.
Her father, Harold Frostmane, suddenly collapsed at the banquet, convulsing all over, letting out a painful howl, and died in front of everyone’s eyes.
In the following days, her mother, brothers, and sisters died one after another.
Either executed or died from mysterious "accidents."
Their heads were hung on stone pillars, blood dripped onto the white snow, strikingly red.
The words of her brother Sigal still echoed in her mind.
"Sif, listen." Sigal gripped her shoulders, speaking urgently, "Run south, never come back."
She shook her head desperately, eyes filled with tears, "No! Brother, I..."
Sigal suddenly seized her neck, forcing her to look up at him, "Listen! Run south! Don’t come back! Never think about revenge!"
Then without further words, Sigal whipped the horse with all his might, drew his war axe, and turned to face the pursuing soldiers.
"Ha!" He roared lowly, blood boiling.
His eyes turned red, the totems on his body suddenly lit up, muscles swelling like rocks, he became a raging god of war.
Blood Boiling Berserker!
Using life as the price, burning their blood to gain temporary invincible power!
"Come on, bastards! Let’s go to hell together!"
He laughed loudly, raising the giant axe to face the enemies surging from the darkness.
Sif’s heart felt as if it were being torn apart, she wanted to rush up and fight alongside her brother, but the warhorse had already bolted south with her.
......
The chill had not yet completely faded, and the river on the west side of Red Tide Territory still carried the cold remnants of winter.
Each spring and autumn, this river would welcome migrating fish.
They swam upstream to spawn on the upstream shoals, and when the fry hatched, they returned to the deep water areas with the flow.
The locals had known this natural law since ancient times, but their fishing methods still remained at the stage of stabbing fish with wooden spears and scooping them with bamboo baskets.
While they could barely fill their bellies, compared to the river’s true potential, it was like a drop in the bucket.
So under Louis’s order, a hundred fishermen set out for the riverbank, organized to begin a fishery construction plan.
They used wooden stakes and stones to simply build temporary docks.
Carpenters were also called together to lead fishermen in day and night work to build fishing boats.
They worked tirelessly and finally built ten fishing boats capable of operating in the water within two weeks, preparing for the future fish tides.
The fishery here experienced earth-shattering changes in these two weeks.
But no one expected their first large-scale fishing would come so quickly.
The cause was that Louis received an important piece of intelligence from the Daily Intelligence System yesterday:
[1: Tomorrow, the river on the west side of Red Tide Territory will see a large number of fish.]
This news excited him greatly, and he immediately ordered, "All fishermen gather at the riverbank dock, prepare for a full-scale fishing."
So the next day, the riverbank was crowded, a hundred fishermen lined up waiting for the Lord’s command.
On the modest but already forming wooden docks, Lord Louis stood high and surveyed everyone:
"Ladies and gentlemen! Today, we will have our first large-scale fishing operation in Red Tide Territory!
Do you remember a month ago how desolate this place looked? But look now, we have boats, we have nets, we have docks, all are results of your effort.
We no longer simply wait for fate’s handout, but use our own hands to grasp the future!
And today, everything is ready; we only need to reach for it, and we will let everyone in Red Tide Territory know that the days of hunger are over!
May we return fully loaded!"
The fishermen, fired up by Louis’s words, raised their nets and spears, shouting in unison, "Return fully loaded!"
But Luke, the Fishery Official beside Louis, showed a trace of indescribable anxiety in his eyes.
"Will there really be fish?"
In the past month, Louis’s judgment had been proven right time and again, forcing Luke and others to believe.
But the problem is, this is fishing!
Fishing relies heavily on luck; even the most experienced fishermen can hardly predict which day will be a big catch or where they might return empty-netted.
He was a bit shocked when Louis notified him yesterday.
Why was the Lord so sure there would be a large catch today?
What if there wasn’t?
If the river yields little today, the inspiring speech just given would become a joke.
And if the fishermen, having prepared for half a month, gain nothing.
It’s a small thing if the fishermen’s morale is hit, but the most important thing is, would the Lord react angrily?
Then what should he do?
Would he be stripped naked and thrown into the river for bait by the Lord?
Luke secretly glanced at Louis, finding that he didn’t panic at all.
He stood there with a faint smile on his face, like he already saw the river churning with fish.
"This is the Lord’s poise..." Luke was a bit lost in thought.
Just then, Louis interrupted Luke’s daydream, "Is everything ready?"
"Ready." Luke quickly replied.
Louis nodded, "Then let’s begin."
Luke took a deep breath, stood on the platform, and loudly gave the command, "Brothers, go according to plan!"
The fishermen, long waiting, began to collaborate.
According to Louis’s plan, today’s fishing operation will be divided into three groups to ensure maximum efficiency.
The first group is the main force, made up of ten fishing boats.
The fishermen skillfully maneuvered the boats and positioned the nets in the middle of the river, creating a vast net barrier.
The second group is the small-scale fishing team.
With relatively fewer people, they are responsible for casting nets in the shallow water areas along the shore, catching fish near the bank.
Fishermen skilfully deployed nets into the water, the mesh gaps just right for catching smaller fish.
The third group uses traditional fishing tools.
They hold spears, rapidly probing the water, and once they spot fish, they strike quickly to capture the escaping fish.
Some fishermen also set traps along the shore.
These simple yet effective tools can effectively capture some fish unwilling to approach the nets, further supplementing the catch.