The story concluded. They received fresh frozen meat sent by the Frost Tribe.
Herman faced the raw meat, unsure what to do, and ordered his men to collect firewood.
Sometimes, such situations are unavoidable.
He increasingly missed the River Valley, the warm and prosperous land, the majestic and radiant Your Highness.
"When will we return?"
"If all goes well, tomorrow." Gwen answered lazily.
"Not now?"
"You are the Silver Moon Knight, don't you know the moon is brightest at night?" The old witch retorted sharply.
That was also the time when those abominations were at their strongest. She frowned in thought, suddenly feeling uneasy.
The story she just heard whispered quietly in her ear: The ancient alien gods also created those abominations in the cold night...
Herman simply shut his mouth.
He never felt happy talking to these old witches.
