Li Yuan and Snow walked deeper into the settlement. The farther they went, the brighter it grew, until the glow converged on a bonfire the size of a basketball court. No wood fed the blaze, yet the flames never faltered; they burned high and clean, giving off no smoke, only warmth.
The heat drove the eternal frost back, and Li Yuan felt the congealed blood energy in his veins begin to stir. His strength climbed from seventh rank toward sixth. If he lingered long enough, he reckoned he’d return to fifth rank.
Beyond the fire, rough walls of sky-blue ice rose like a simple palisade, holding back the black, wind-torn wilderness.
Beside the fire rose rows of hide-tents. Men, women and children poked their heads out, staring at the newcomer.
Compared with the people from the Great Zhou, these Ice Folk were easy to tell apart. They were tall and long-limbed, with fair skin like fresh snow, and eyes that glowed a soft ruby red, as if warm gems had been set in ice.
Above every head drifted a faint string of numbers.
The children and elderly hovered around 200~300; the slighter men and women sat at 350~500; and the sturdier few stood at 600~800.
One more thing leapt out at Li Yuan. The sexes were anything but evenly spread.
A lone man might squat by a tent far from the fire, shoulders slumped in defeat; yet nearer the blaze, another man would lounge in front of a tent crowded with several striking women, every stride of his radiating strength and predatory confidence.
Catching Li Yuan’s look, Snow explained, “Here the strong can take several wives, and the weak take none. The chieftain says that’s how we breed stronger children, and a stronger tribe.”
“And the other tribes?” Li Yuan asked.
“Some run with the wolves,” she said. “Some flock like sheep.”
Whispers floated around them, news of Blacktooth’s defeat spreading like sparks.
The nearer they drew to the bonfire, the heavier its warmth pressed upon them. Li Yuan’s eyes sharpened; he halted at the entrance of the closest, best-placed tent.
Whoosh! The flap lifted. Inside, in full lamplight, sat a bare-chested giant wearing a crown of polished bone. A sixth rank dire wolf crouched at his knee.
This was the chieftain, Jen’gal Suljagar. A 1,710~1,725 hovered above his head.
Interesting, to think it was possible to forge such power with just the body alone... Li Yuan’s curiosity deepened.
Snow tugged Li Yuan’s sleeve. She performed the tribal salute and told the whole tale.
Li Yuan added his own request: to lay his father’s burial garb in the Deathless Tomb.
Suljagar showed little interest but no malice.
“Take him there,” he told Snow, waving off the matter of her unsanctioned journey as if such escapades were nothing new.
He was about to dismiss them when a man burst through the flap.
“Chieftain! This outsider floored Blacktooth. I demand the right to challenge him and win my brother’s honor back!”
Li Yuan sighed inwardly.
Suljagar’s sleepy eyes lit up. “So you fought Blacktooth in an honor duel and spared him? Good. Honor duels exist so we strike without holding back. Yet killing is never the goal. You did well not to waste a tribesman.”
He gestured toward the intruder: a burly warrior sporting deer antlers, a wolf-fang pendant, muscles knotted beneath blood-and-charcoal war paint.
“This is Jen’gal Changar, a warrior of our tribe. He’s Blacktooth’s sworn brother and brother to Blacktooth’s woman. Woody, will you meet him in an honor duel?”
Inside the tent, Li Yuan’s cultivation had already climbed back to sixth rank and was still inching back toward fifth rank; the 700~720 floating above Changar looked almost pitiable in comparison.
Changar rumbled, “I won’t take advantage. You just fought Blacktooth, so I’ll wait for you to recover. Tomorrow, before every tribesman and the fire itself, we’ll duel. If I lose, everything I own is yours. If you lose, everything you own is mine!”
Li Yuan rubbed his brow. Even at seventh rank, he could have crushed Changar; by morning, at fifth rank, it would be like an adult picking on a toddler.
Still, he had gathered that lying low in this village was the wrong play. Strength commanded respect here.
“If you lose,” he said, “I don’t want your belongings. Only your tribe’s promise not to pester me again. Let me live in peace.”
Changar laughed like cracking ice. “Peace? You’ll lose, little man. I’ll take your woman and make you watch—”
“Let’s fight now,” Li Yuan interrupted, voice flat, already bored with the bravado.
“Fine!” Changar barked.
Suljagar, suddenly curious, turned to Snow. “You said your man is the son of an outside hunter, yes?”
“Yes,” she answered, worry creeping across her face.
“Woody,” Suljagar said, “if you win this bout, no one in the tribe may challenge you again. And whatever reward is yours, you will accept it, no arguments.”
Li Yuan inclined his head. “Thank you.”
Two figures took their places on the bare patch beside the roaring bonfire. So warm was the ground here that tufts of grass had pushed through the ice.
Li Yuan and Changar stood barefoot.
Changar’s eyes gleamed red, wolf-like and hungry.
Around them tribesmen in fur cloaks gathered as if for a festival; children darted between legs, and at the front a knot of anxious women watched—some recently lost by Blacktooth, others belonging to Changar himself.
In this tribe, only the strong may father children. If Changar lost, his women would move to the outsider’s tent and bear his offspring. So there was no small reason for their unease.
An elder raised a beast horn and blew. A lonely, ancient note rolled across the settlement.
Changar’s fingers tightened on his ice-forged spear. With a bestial roar, he lunged. He was no novice. On raids against rival tribes and in hunts across the frost, he had always done well. Striking first was part of his craft.
A hot gust swept sparks and heat toward Li Yuan. The young man still leisurely gripped his weapon in his hand, studying the icy blue grain glinting in the firelight. In this warmth, the spear’s true core showed at last—supple wood beneath the ice.
The instant the gale hit, Li Yuan’s body drifted back while his spear flashed forward.
Snap! His shaft knocked Changar’s aside. Like a viper, it kissed the warrior’s chest, slid clean through flesh, and stopped short against bone.
Blood sprayed; Changar dangled on the point, hoisted one-handed into the glare of the flames.
“I...lose.” His head drooped.
Silence swept the circle. No one had imagined Changar would fall in a single stroke.
From the edge of the crowd, let out a booming laugh. “Hail the victor! He is Snow’s man, and now one of the tribe!”
The shout tore the hush apart. Muscles-for-brains or not, the tribespeople roared approval.
Li Yuan felt none of their thrill; to him this hadn’t even been a fight. He let the spear fall and Changar with it. Two tall, pale women hurried over, both Changar’s, only to be waved away.
“You don’t belong to me any more. Go,” he muttered.
When the cheering ebbed, Suljagar called, “Snow, take Changar’s tent. It’s large and close to the fire. You and your man will live there.”
Snow, already giddy with victory, skipped to the wounded warrior. “Everything in your tent is mine now. Don’t bother coming back!”
Covering his wound, Changar grunted, “Didn’t plan to.”
He looked up at Li Yuan, a flicker of respect in his voice. “That thrust, what do you call it?”
Li Yuan paused. It had been nothing more than an off-hand jab; he rarely bothered to name such things.
“A spear made to kill needs no name,” he said at last.
He wanted to add that he didn’t want the other man’s belongings, but seeing Changar’s matter-of-fact acceptance, as well as Snow already ordering the other women about, he swallowed the words. Hah... What did they say again in my past life? When in Rome, do as the Romans do...