Early the next morning.
When the first glimmer of light struggled to pierce thru the clouds, gilding the vast snowfield in a faint, silvery-gray hue, the members of the Remnant Bone Tribe awoke from their slumber.
Many of them were awakened by a long-lost sensation: warmth.
The massive animal-hide tents shielded them from the bone-chilling winds outside, and although the central fire pit had died out in the second half of the nite, its lingering embers stubbornly continued to radiate heat.
Covering their bodies were thick, soft, second-hand animal hides they had never encountered before.
There was no hunger, no cold, and not even any anxiety about tomorrow's food.
Nuo slowly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the tent ceiling, remaining motionless for a long time.
He subconsciously rubbed his still-bloated stomach; the feeling of fullness from that thick, piping-hot bowl of meat soup last nite seemed to still linger in his body.
He could no longer remember how long ago it had been since he last slept so peacefully until waking up naturally.
Perhaps twenty winters ago? Or maybe thirty?
If the tribe hadn't split, could he have lived like this all along?
He couldn't remember, and he dared not think about it.
Outside the tents, the Wolf God Temple was like a waking beast, beginning to emit a low, vibrant roar.
It was the rhythmic sound of the patrol changing guard, the muffled thuds of Werewolf Warriors hacking at frozen meat with battle blades, interspersed with the rising and falling howls of Snow Giant Wolves and the joyful whimpers of cubs at play.
These sounds had seemed strange and oppressive when heard yesterday.
But after a nite of peaceful sleep, they seemed to have been imbued with new meaning, becoming a background noise that represented "order" and "safety."
Nuo was the first to get up.
He hunched his back, walked out of the tent, and took a deep breath of the cold but crisp air.
He saw the kitchen area not far away, where blazing fires roared under massive iron caldrons, and the rich aroma of meat had already begun to permeate the camp.
Several Blackwood Fortress warriors were pouring a bag of chopped, unknown leaf powder into the pot, stirring it with a wooden stick that looked like an oar.
Nuo knew that this was breakfast prepared for them, the new subjects.
He glanced back at the huge tent behind him, and at his tribesmen who were filing out one after another, their faces filled with confusion and a hint of relief, a complex glint flashing in his cloudy, aged eyes.
The death of Bone-Breaker was, truly... worth it.
Just then, a rapid and resounding blast of a horn cut thru the clamor of the camp.
"Woo—woo—"
The horn sound was different from the urgency of battle, and different from the sharpness of an alarm; it was deep and long, carrying an unquestionable sense of command.
The entire Wolf God Temple, as if a precision machine, instantly switched its operating mode upon hearing the horn.
The warriors who had been busy with their own tasks immediately dropped what they were doing and began to assemble with astonishing speed.
Tents were quickly rolled up, supplies were sorted and gathered, and the entire camp fell into a state of tense, efficient activity.
Colin's figure appeared on a raised rock in the center of the camp.
He was still wearing that simple leather armor, his figure standing straight like a pine, his cold gaze sweeping across the entire camp.
He didn't speak, but his mere presence was the most powerful command.
The members of the Remnant Bone Tribe were caught off guard by this sudden change; they subconsciously gathered together, watching with trepidation as the massive war machine operated before them.
"What is this for?" someone asked in a low voice.
Nuo nodded and said in a low voice to his tribesmen nearby, "Be quiet! Don't move around! Follow orders!"
Soon, a Wolf Guards member strode up to them and ordered in a rough voice, "Finish your breakfast, then follow the troop! Anyone who dares to run around will be executed on the spot!"
No one dared to object.
When they received that steaming, mushy breakfast mixed with minced meat and plant powder, the massive transport team belonging to Blackwood Fortress was already beginning to assemble before their eyes in a truly shocking manner.
The first things to catch their eyes were the sleds.
Over two hundred sleds made of sturdy wood and animal bones were neatly arranged in the open space on the west side of the camp.
Each sled was massive and heavy, like small, moving mountains.
Then, there were the Giant-Horned Oxen responsible for pulling the sleds.
These giant beasts, which were incredibly ferocious in the wild, were now harnessed with special gear woven from tough animal hide, standing docilely in front of the sleds, occasionally puffing out clouds of white nasal breath.
The people taming them were a group of demi-humans who were equally burly and sturdy, but possessed the heads of his waist, and tossed it into the deep snow by the roadside.
The old era had been buried.
The new journey had just begun.