Despite spring having descended upon the Northern Territory, the cold wind was still biting.
Sif's hands tightly gripped the reins, her fingertips long since numb.
The warhorse beneath her was panting heavily, its four hooves stumbling, and its sweat quickly frosting in the cold night.
Faster... just a bit faster...
Behind her was the burning fire of the Cold Moon Tribe, bought with her brother's life.
No turning back, no stopping...
"Run south, never return!"
Sigal's roar still echoed in her mind, like a nail driven deep into Sif's soul.
Sigal was dead, as were her father, mother, brothers, and sisters.
But she was still alive in disgrace, like an abandoned ghost, wandering this world with no place to call home.
Not knowing where to go, she just kept fleeing south.
The food had long been eaten up, and Sif could only quench her thirst with river water and barely stave off hunger with tree bark and some wild fruits.
After several days, the warhorse finally exhausted its strength, letting out a long neigh before collapsing.
Sif also tumbled down from the horse's back, heavily hitting the ground.
She wanted to stand up, but couldn't even move a finger.
Her consciousness gradually drifted, and Sigal's face appeared in her mind.
I'm sorry, brother... I can't go on...
Her vision gradually blurred, and Sif's consciousness sank into darkness.
......
A mighty troop from the Red Tide was marching northward.
The hunters were focused, and the knights looked around vigilantly, all wanting to perform well in the hunt.
After all, this hunt was personally led by the Lord.
And Louis, wrapped in a thick wolf fur cloak, swayed slightly as he rode his warhorse.
A trail of chaotic animal tracks appeared on the wasteland.
An experienced hunter immediately squatted down to examine them, speaking in a low voice: "Lord, there are signs of rabbit activity ahead, and not just one."
Louis nodded gently, slowly drew the short bow from his waist, nocked an arrow, and squinted ahead.
Sure enough, beside a clump of withered grass not far away, a gray-white rabbit cautiously poked its head out.
"Whoosh——"
The arrow shot through the air, its speed nearly invisible, and instantly pierced through the rabbit's neck with precision!
The rabbit rolled over, twitched twice, and then lost all signs of life.
"Great shot!"
"As expected of the Lord!"
The hunters and knights immediately applauded and cheered, each trying to flatter.
"Indeed the Lord is skilled in both literature and martial arts, even hunting with such precision!"
"With such archery, even the Kingdom's Imperial Hunters may feel ashamed!"
"If our Northern Province had a hundred such sharpshooters, what would we fear of a Barbarian Race invasion?"
"Yes, yes! Truly a born warrior!"
Even a knight picked up the rabbit with both hands and ran to Louis, his face full of admiration: "Lord, could this rabbit be a descendant of the Beast King? Otherwise, how could it be so difficult to shoot?"
Louis's mouth slightly twitched.
This group... truly knows how to flatter.
However, he didn't mind, as the prestige and renown of a lord sometimes had to be built upon these little "legendary deeds."
Of course, this hunt was merely a cover.
The real target was the little princess about to be devoured by the Frosty White Bear.
Using hunting as an excuse to go north to find a person was Louis's way of not letting others know he had a prophetic-like ability.
Of course, Louis was also aware that some smart people around him had already started noticing the anomaly.
They were not foolish, long having sensed that their lord was "unusually lucky."
Since arriving from the south to the Northern Province, he could precisely predict all sorts of crises and opportunities.
To say this was merely coincidence, no one would believe it.
But in this fantastical worldview, even if Louis directly told them he had the "Daily Intelligence System,"
They wouldn't understand what those six words represented, as this world had no web fiction.
Thus, they attributed it all to the Dragon Ancestor's Divine Grace.
"This hunt is truly bountiful! Lord, your archery is practically divine."
"Indeed! Indeed! Even the Dragon Ancestor is blessing us today."
"Haha, we must certainly celebrate once we return."
And so, chatting and laughing, this troop made its way, yielding a plentiful harvest along the way.
The hunters killed several fat deer and even caught some rare cold-region fish by the ice river.
"Sometimes relaxing like this... doesn't seem too bad." Watching everyone in high spirits, Louis couldn't help but smile.
Suddenly, a scout hunter hurriedly rushed back to the troop, with a strange expression on his face.
"Lord! A girl has been found ahead!"
The hunter's words immediately silenced the entire hunting party, everyone looking at him in confusion.
"A girl?" Lambert frowned, "How could there be a girl in the wilderness?"
"Just not far, near the ice river." The hunter panted, with a look of lingering fear on his face, "She lay unconscious in the snow, looking like she's fainted."
Found her.
Louis's gaze subtly changed, but he maintained a calm expression: "Lead the way."
As they passed through a low forest and approached the ice river, they discovered the unconscious Sif.
The girl lay on her back in the cold snow, slightly curled up, her white short hair scattered messily with wind and snow.
The fur coat on her was worn out, with her shoulders and arms exposed to the air, frozen purple.
A few partially healed wounds showed her struggles over the past few days.
Yet her delicate face still bore a trace of stubbornness, showing not a hint of weakness, even in a faint.
An experienced hunter bent down to observe for a moment, his face changing: "Lord, she's from the Northern Tribe."
Another hunter carefully examined the patterns on her belt, softly supplementing: "Cold Moon Tribe."
The air fell silent for a few seconds.
The surrounding knights couldn't help exchanging several glances.
The Cold Moon Tribe was indeed a major enemy of the Northern Province.
But Louis only took a glance and made a decision: "Bring her back for treatment."
The knights didn't hesitate, quickly lifting the girl and cautiously placing her on a warhorse.
The hunters then led a cart full of game, and the group grandly set out on their return journey.
Upon returning to the Red Tide Territory, the girl was placed in an empty room and handed over to an indigenous healer with some medical knowledge.
Louis was silent for a moment, his gaze falling on the girl's face.
At this moment, her eyes were tightly closed, her lips cracked from the cold, her brows slightly furrowed as if fighting against death.
Louis took out a bottle of Life Potion from his family and handed it to the doctor: "Give this to her."
The doctor hesitated slightly but still slowly poured the liquid between the girl's lips.
After a while, her once pale face seemed to regain a bit of color, and her breathing steadied somewhat.
Although still unconscious, it seemed her life had been saved.
"A bottle of Life Potion is quite expensive, hope she wakes up," Louis said as he looked at the unconscious girl.