"It's trying to run!" Leman Russ spotted a young elk darting frantically through a gap in the encirclement, sheltered by the herd of adult elk.
"Leman Russ, get back here!"
Ignoring Thengir's furious roar behind him, Leman Russ shot forward like an arrow from a bow, his golden hair whipping wildly in the freezing wind.
The wolf cubs noticed the fleeing fawn as well. Their silver-gray forms burst apart like streaks of lightning, encircling the terrified creature in moments.
Trapped and desperate, the little elk lowered its head. Its sharp antlers glinted coldly under the sun, like two drawn blades slashing toward the weakest point in the wolf pack.
Compared to the young wolves, Leman Russ, just a human child, looked pitifully fragile.
Thengir couldn't stop him. He could only watch as the terrified deer lunged forward, its razor-tipped antlers aimed straight for the boy's chest.
But just before the deadly points struck flesh, the child's body moved with lightning agility. He leapt into the air, his legs spreading wide before landing squarely on the deer's back.
His fingers gripped its short mane tightly. The elk reared, hooves tearing furrows into the snow, but no matter how it thrashed, it couldn't shake off the hunter clinging to it like a ghostly parasite.
Russ tightened his hold on his axe. The blade flashed a bright arc in the sunlight,
With a sharp, clean strike, the axe bit deep into the deer's neck. Hot blood sprayed into the snow, blooming into a crimson flower.
The poor creature let out a final, pitiful cry before its forelegs buckled, collapsing into the white frost.
"Hah… hah…"
Russ straightened up from the corpse, his chest heaving. The thrill of his first solo hunt sent his blood boiling. His heart pounded like a war drum in his chest.
Just as he was about to examine his kill, a shadow loomed over him. The massive silver-gray form of Sylvia, the she-wolf, stood between him and the sunlight.
He looked up and saw Caelan leap lightly from the wolf's back, snow spraying beneath his boots like scattering diamonds.
Russ knew he was in for a scolding, but he still lifted his head defiantly. His wolf brothers had all joined the hunt; why was he the only one left to watch from the sidelines?
He wanted to prove to Caelan that he was a hunter too, not a helpless child to be protected.
Caelan raised a hand. Russ instinctively clenched his jaw, bracing for the blow. But instead of pain, he felt a gentle touch.
"You're not hurt, are you?" Caelan's warm hand brushed through his golden hair, feeling for dried blood between the strands.
"No," Russ murmured, unable to meet Caelan's gaze.
He waited for the scolding. He was ready to explain; it had only been a fawn, and he could handle it himself.
But Caelan only extended his hand. "Come on. You need to apologize to Thengir."
"Why?" Russ asked stubbornly.
"Because you made him worry."
Russ looked down. "Not because I risked hunting the deer alone?"
"You admit it was risky?" Caelan raised a brow.
"I had it under control!"
"That's not an excuse. You should've told us beforehand."
"Do I need your permission for everything I do? Why should I?"
"When you grow up, you won't. But right now, you're still a child. Even your wolf brothers only joined the hunt because I allowed it, and I followed to protect them. Next time, tell me in advance if you want to hunt. But don't be reckless like this again. It proves nothing and only makes those who care about you afraid."
"When I grow up, I won't need you anymore!" Russ muttered.
He followed Caelan without taking his hand. Caelan smiled faintly, not forcing him. Independence wasn't a bad thing; it just seemed that Russ's rebellious streak was stronger than most.
He couldn't remember Curze or Lorgar ever being this defiant.
"Is he hurt?"
Thengir approached with the warriors.
Caelan shook his head. "No. He's not an ordinary child."
"Even so, he- " Thengir stopped mid-scold as Russ bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
The warrior swallowed his words. "Just don't do it again. If you want to hunt, I can teach you a few tricks."
Russ glared at him. "I don't need your teaching!"
Thengir looked to his men, and they all burst out laughing. Only Caelan and Russ seemed confused why.
"Awooo!"
Caelan stepped into the great tent. Sylvia's howl echoed like a school bell.
The Russ tribe children stood up at once and shouted in unison, "Good morning, teacher!"
"Good morning, students." Caelan stood before the stone lectern, his gaze sweeping over the seated children, lingering the longest on Leman Russ.
He tapped the stone surface, tok, tok, a crisp sound that brought silence.
"Russ, you and the other children who just turned five will stay after class. This afternoon, you'll join the warriors for a hunt. You'll lead them as the head wolf."
Russ nodded solemnly, feeling the weight of that responsibility settle on his shoulders.
"Take out your texts. Let's continue."
The children unfolded their parchment scrolls, eyes bright with eager curiosity.
"Russ, where did we leave off last lesson?"
"Chapter Twenty-Five, The Hall of the Aesir King, the One-Eyed Hero Who Knew the Heavens."
"Good," said Caelan, slamming a deer skull onto the lectern with a thud. "Today, we continue with the Twenty-Sixth Tale of Norse Mythology, 'The Godslayer in Snow: The Frost Axe That Shattered Fate!'"
He began to narrate with theatrical vigor:
"Thus spoke Kratos, who slaughtered the gods of Olympus, bathed in their blood, and walked alone into Midgard. He cast off his chains, laid down his Blades of Chaos, and met the fiery Frost Giantess, Laufey. An axe of ice split the northern storm, two flames of chaos melted the cold iron in his heart…"
"…And from their union was born a child, Atreus. Born of god-slaying bone and giant blood! Laufey carved the map of Nine Realms into his spine with her dying breath, while Kratos burned the Chaos Chains and taught his son to hunt deer and shoot birds, unaware that the axe in his hands could one day cleave the heavens."
"Yet fate cannot be hidden beneath frost. When Atreus met Baldur, son of the One-Eyed God, the Godslayer's destiny reawakened!"
Thud!
The deer skull struck the stone table again, and the class fell silent.
But the children's eyes glowed with awe. They had long forgotten the classroom; they were lost in the saga's world.
"Russ," Caelan asked, "what lesson did you take from this story?"
Two months later, Russ had already grown into a towering man, two meters tall and strong enough to rival the fiercest warriors.
But to Caelan, he was still a student. No matter how capable, he was still required to attend class every morning in the king's tent.
Thengir had even given up using it for himself during the day, just so the tribe's children could learn there.
At night, the warriors and parents would gather in the same place to feast and drink.
Russ answered, "Kratos and Atreus… they didn't understand each other. Kratos was a stubborn old man. He could slaughter gods without blinking, but couldn't show love to his own son.
"Atreus, too young to see the care hidden in silence, turned his defiance into fangs."
"Only years later would he realize what those quiet glances meant, but by then, it was too late to undo the pain."
Caelan nodded. "The things we fail to cherish in youth will haunt us for life. What you said is true, and that's what I want to teach you all."
"You can still feel your mothers' woven cloaks, still hear your fathers sharpening their axes. Someday, those ordinary sounds will be more precious than the horns of war you now dream of."
"A true warrior not only faces beasts without fear, but can also say the simplest words to his family: I love you. Say it while you can, before regret becomes your only companion."
The children lowered their heads, firelight trembling in their lashes.
Some touched the wooden axes their fathers had carved, others remembered their mothers tucking them in at night. Those small acts of love now felt sacred.
Several boys bit their lips hard. They realized that their own angry words had hurt their parents more deeply than any fang or claw ever could.
"The assignment," Caelan said, "is to tell your parents, 'I'm sorry, I love you.' Tomorrow, I'll call them in for a meeting. Anyone who hasn't done it, I'll call out by name."
Russ raised his hand. "What if… we don't have parents?"
The silence that followed was broken by soft sobs. Some truly had none.
Fenris was merciless. Humans hunted beasts, but were also hunted in turn.
No matter how careful, some would die on the hunt. Their children were taken in by the tribe, but their parents would never return.
Jorin Bloodhowl's parents were alive, but even he lowered his head, heart aching for the others.
"Then go to King Thengir," said Caelan softly. "He'll take you to their graves."
Russ asked, "What about me?"
Caelan smiled faintly. "You can come to me, or Sylvia."
The mother wolf nuzzled his cheek affectionately at the sound of her name.
Caelan sighed. 'What happened to you, Russ?' The fierce wolf-king he remembered was nowhere to be found.
'Did I teach you wrong?'
'No, it couldn't be. Curze and Lorgar had both turned out fine. Why was Russ the exception?'
"Those stories you tell the pups, are they real?" Thengir asked, leaning against a frost-covered oak beside Caelan.
"You were eavesdropping?" Caelan shot him a glance.
"They're better than any of our old legends!" Thengir grinned, completely shameless.
There wasn't much entertainment on Fenris; storytelling by the elders was the heart of every night.
"Whether true or not," said Caelan, "isn't important. What matters is what the stories teach."
Thengir nodded. He knew well that not every legend was truth; many were just parents' tales to lull their children to sleep. But all of them carried wisdom in disguise.
Far out across the snowy plains, the warriors led a group of children on a hunt.
Their prey were Sain bull-deer, creatures with the bodies of bison and the antlers of elk. Large, muscular, and dangerous, but slower than true elk.
The cooperation between the Russ tribe and their wolf pack had become perfect. The wolves would flush the herds toward the human hunters, who ensnared their necks with ropes before the wolves and warriors finished them off.
Efficiency had multiplied.
Boom!
"Leman Russ!"
Russ straightened atop the massive bull-deer's corpse, his mane spattered with blood and blowing wildly in the cold wind.
The beast's eyes were still open, its throat a steaming ruin.
The children around him cheered; he had single-handedly slain an adult bull-deer, a feat even grown warriors struggled to achieve.
"Stop gawking! It's your turn!"
One of the men kicked his own son toward a smaller calf.
Every child in the tribe had to make their first kill, alone or together; it didn't matter.
The strong would age, the brave would fall, and one day, these children would have to face Fenris's cruel winter alone.
Even if a child died under a calf's horns, no one would intervene. Such was the law of Fenris, the law of tooth and fang.
Only Russ watched over them. When Jorin Bloodhowl nearly got gored, Russ caught him and then kicked the three-hundred-kilo calf ten meters away.
"Thank you," Jorin gasped, pale-faced.
"Your hunt's not over," Russ said, pushing him forward, catching a girl thrown off another calf's back.
He was their age, yet none dared object.
"Awooo!"
The wolves howled encouragement. They'd grown fast; their shoulders now reached the chests of adult warriors.
Their appetites had grown, too, terrifyingly so. Ninety percent of the prey they brought down ended up in their stomachs. And they were still growing; Caelan estimated they'd reach three meters tall at maturity.
To feed them, the tribe hunted more and more often. But come next year's Great Winter, those same wolves would protect the tribe in turn.
"The Season of Fire is coming," Thengir said. "This island we found last year is close to Asaheim. Plenty of migrating beasts pass through now, but once the season changes, food will grow scarce. Life on the sea will be hard. Be ready."
He spoke from experience. Each Season of Fire, countless Fenrisians starved. He couldn't guarantee his own tribe would be spared.
When that time came, feeding Caelan's pack might be impossible, and Caelan would face a grim choice.
"Hmm," Russ grunted quietly.
Caelan could already guess what Thengir was warning him about.
"But there's plenty in the sea, right?" he asked.
Thengir only laughed bitterly. Land beasts were dangerous, but the sea's monsters were far worse.
He realized Caelan must have come from the lowlands, where people knew nothing of Fenris's oceans.
Then, from the distance, cheers erupted again.
"Jorin Bloodhowl!"
The warriors joined the children in applause.
Among the young hunters, one had just made his very first solo kill.
.....
If you enjoy the story, my p@treon is 30 chapters ahead.
[email protected]/DaoistJinzu