As Anna's figure vanished amidst the rolling mountains to the south,
As if by agreement with her departure, the bitter chill that had occupied the entire Northern Territory for months was finally blown away without a trace by a strong, warm southern wind.
The sunlight was no longer the pale and weak light of winter. It became warm and generous, pouring its golden warmth unreservedly onto the earth. The snow around Blackwood Fortress, thick as a blanket, began to melt rapidly and visibly under this gentle sun.
At first, there was only the rhythmic, life-filled sound of "drip, drip" from under the eaves and along the corners of the walls. Soon, these sounds merged into streams, carving out a network of temporary waterways inside and outside the castle.
In just a few days, the white faded from this land.
In its place was the moist, dark, fertile soil that had been frozen and suppressed all winter.
The air was filled with a mixture of the freshness of melting snow and the fragrance of earth.
A few more days passed, and when the warm spring sun had completely dried the excess moisture from the surface, a miracle began to unfold.
Tender green sprouts of grass, carrying tenacious vitality, stubbornly pushed thru the soft soil. At first, they were just scattered dots, but in the blink of an eye, they gathered into patches, as if someone had laid a soft, emerald-green carpet over the vast land.
The bare Ironwood trees also vied to sprout new branches. Those tiny, pale yellow buds swayed gently in the spring breeze, as if announcing the return of spring to the entire world.
The entire world was filled with that bursting, irrepressible vitality.
Blackwood Fortress, the war machine that had been running at high speed thru the cold winter, also adjusted its pace to match the change of seasons.
The earth-shaking shouts of killing on the drill grounds noticeably decreased.
Large numbers of warriors took off their heavy training leather armor and marched out of the barracks and drill grounds in large groups. Led by their respective officers, they joined the women in the larger-scale production and construction of the territory.
One of the most important tasks in spring was grazing.
The heavy wooden doors of the massive animal pens at the northwest corner of the castle creaked and groaned as they slowly opened.
A pungent, stifling smell—a mixture of livestock manure and hay that had been trapped all winter—was the first to rush out.
Immediately following was a commotion.
The livestock, which had been penned up all winter and had long since lost significant weight, seemed to instantly sense the life-filled air outside and began to grow restless.
The sheep were the first to rush out.
The more than thirteen hundred sheep seized from human pastures were no longer as plump as they once were. A winter's worth of hay feeding had barely kept them from starving. The rams and the ewes without lambs were so thin that the shapes of their ribs were clearly visible, and their wool had become dull. They crowded at the gate, letting out urgent, raspy bleats.
When a gap was opened, the leading sheep were the first to charge out of the pens. Seeing the boundless, fresh, emerald-green grass outside, they froze for a moment. Then, as if the most primitive instincts in their blood had been awakened, they let out joyful, high-pitched bleats and charged out like mad.
"Boom!"
The entire flock of sheep, like a floodgate being opened, poured out instantly. They dove into that sea of green, not even bothering to run anymore, but immediately lowering their heads to greedily and frantically graze on the fresh spring grass still covered in dew.
The crisp, dense sound of "crunching" merged into the most beautiful movement of spring's symphony of life.
Following closely behind were the more than two hundred oxen and twenty Mountain Bison. Because they were needed for construction after early spring, they had been maintained in normal condition throughout the winter. Yet, when they saw the pasture, they too could not suppress their instinctive urges, letting out excited bellows and swishing their tails as they charged toward their feast.
The last to come out were the initially domesticated Frost-Horned Deer and Giant-Horned Oxen, specifically the females and their young.
Perhaps because they had spent so much time with their goalkeepers, they appeared more "orderly." Guided by the Deer-folk elder Aynil and his deputies, they lined up and walked out of the pens in an orderly fashion toward the most fertile, exclusive pasture designated for them.
As for those who refused to obey, they remained locked in the pens.
Since it was only early spring and wild beasts were equally hungry, Colin had Goff transfer a hundred men from the Wolf Fang Legion to guard the herds and the herders for their safety.
On a high slope outside the pens, Goff stood watching this spectacular scene. A rare smile appeared on his eternally stoic f races, symbolizing the rise of a brand-new empire.
And this was only the beginning.