Tengil didn't argue with him, knowing he couldn't win against the child; even a king can't settle family disputes!
Tengil pressed two rough fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle.
The Rus Tribe warriors tacitly emerged from their hiding spots, their battle axes reflecting a chilling light in the sun.
In the biting cold wind, a hazy mist of snow suddenly rose from the horizon at the end of the snowfield.
Accompanied by dull thudding hooves, a large herd of Fenris Elk appeared in the Rus Tribe's sight.
The wolves pursued the deer herd closely from behind; these young wolves actually found it difficult to hunt these dangerous elk alone, but the elk's fear of Fenris Wolf made them instinctively only think of fleeing when facing the pack, never considering fighting back unless pushed to a corner.
Worp rode on Sylvia's back, following the elk herd unhurriedly, while the other young wolves tacitly spread out on both sides of the herd, letting out deterrent growls, herding the panicked elk herd towards the predetermined direction.
The Rus Tribe hunters had long been ambushed behind the snow hills, and when the elk herd entered the encirclement, Tengil blew the hunting horn with his whistle.
Tengil's fingers rested on the bowstring, his left eye squinting in the biting cold wind, his right eye locking onto the leading stag through the swirling snow.
"Whoosh—"
The piercing shriek of the bone arrow tore through the wind and snow, its tip glinting with a chilling light in the sun, accurately piercing the stag's thick neck.
The scalding deer blood instantly crystallized into blood shards in the severe cold; this giant beast, weighing over a ton, didn't even have time to let out a cry before it collapsed like an avalanche, raising a snow mist two people high.
The human hunters, who had been ambushed for a long time, slid down from the snow hills on both sides like an avalanche, and the elk herd, having lost its leader, immediately fell into chaos, these giant beasts colliding with each other in panic.
Sharp antlers stirred up a sky full of snow, and several young fawns were even cut to pieces by the antlers of their own kind.
The hunters threw their lassos, using ancestral knotting techniques to strangle the elk's necks; whether successful or not, they would skillfully move to the side and back of the elk, while other hunters would seize the opportunity to attack the elk with their necks snared, and if unsuccessful, they had to move to the side of the elk and patiently wait for a second chance.
Because no armor could block the sharp antlers of the Fenris Elk, even adult Fenris Wolf and giant bears would be cut to pieces by their antlers.
The residents of Fenris are not to be trifled with.
Chapter 72: What is unobtainable in youth will forever bind one's life.
"It's trying to run!"
Leeman Rus saw a young fawn using the adult elk as cover, frantically escaping through a gap in the encirclement.
"Leeman Rus, get back here!"
Ignoring Tengil's furious roar behind him, Leeman Rus shot towards the young fawn like an arrow released from a bowstring, his golden hair rising in a wild arc in the cold wind.
The young wolves also discovered the fawn trying to escape; their silver-grey figures scattered like lightning, completely surrounding the startled fawn.
Cornered and desperate, the fawn suddenly lowered its head in panic, its sharp antlers reflecting a chilling light in the sun, like two unsheathed scimitars, charging towards the weakest point of the wolf pack.
Compared to the young wolves, Leeman Rus, this human cub, seemed vulnerable.
Tengil had no time to stop Leeman Rus and could only watch as the startled fawn raised its razor-sharp antlers, their glinting tips aiming directly at Leeman Rus's body.
Just as the antlers were about to pierce flesh, the wolf-child's agile body leaped into the air like lightning, his splayed legs landing precisely on the fawn's back.
Leeman Rus's fingers gripped the small mane tightly; the elk, in pain, reared its front hooves, plowing deep furrows in the snow, yet it couldn't shake off the hunter on its back, who clung like a persistent parasite.
He tightened his grip on the battle axe, and the axe blade carved a brilliant arc in the sunlight.
With a clean hacking sound, the sharp axe blade deeply embedded itself into the fawn's neck, and scalding fresh blood instantly spurted out, blooming into a dazzling blood-flower on the snow.
This poor fawn finally let out a desperate wail, its front knees heavily collapsing onto the snow.
"Hoo, hoo."
Leeman Rus slowly straightened up from the fawn's corpse; the excitement of his first solo hunt made his entire body's blood boil, his heart pounding violently in his chest, roaring like a war drum.
Just as he was about to lower his head to inspect his trophy, a shadow suddenly enveloped him; Sylvia's massive silver-grey body stood between him and the sunlight.
He sharply looked up and saw Worp lightly leaping from the wolf mother's broad back, the snow mist kicked up by his boots reflecting tiny specks of light in the sun.
Leeman Rus knew he was going to get scolded, but he still stubbornly looked up at Worp; his wolf brothers had all participated in the hunt, so why should he only watch from behind the snow hills?
He wanted to prove to Worp that he was also a hunter, not a cub that needed protection!
Just as Worp raised his hand, Leeman Rus instinctively tensed his jaw; the expected pain didn't come, replaced instead by a gentle caress.
"Are you hurt?"
A warm palm ran through his golden hair, brushing over the blood scabs that had congealed in the strands.
"No."
Leeman Rus timidly avoided Worp's concerned gaze.
He waited for Worp's scolding; he would prove to him that it was just a small fawn, and he could complete the hunt even alone.
Worp extended his hand to him, "Come on, you need to apologize to Tengil."
"Why?"
Leeman Rus stubbornly raised his head.
"Because you made him worry."
Leeman Rus lowered his head again, "Not because I risked hunting this fawn?"
Worp retorted, "You know you were taking a risk?"
"I was confident!"
"That's not an excuse for your willfulness; you should have told us beforehand."
"Do I have to get your permission for everything I do? Why?"
"You won't have to when you grow up, but you're still a child. Your wolf brothers also joined the hunt with my permission, and I followed them to protect them. Next time, you can tell me beforehand that you want to participate in the hunt, but I hope you won't be as willful as you were this time. It proves nothing and only makes me and others who care about you worry."
"When I grow up, you won't have to control me!"
Leeman Rus said stubbornly.
He followed Worp, but didn't take Worp's hand, and Worp smiled, not forcing it; it wasn't a bad thing for a child to like independence from a young age.
It's just that his rebellious tendency was a bit strong. He remembered that Koz and Logar didn't have a rebellious phase, so why was the Wolf King always rebellious?
"Is he hurt?"
Tengil led the warriors to meet them.
Worp shook his head, "No, he's not an ordinary child."
"Even so, he shouldn't..."
Tengil, full of anger, didn't finish his sentence when Leeman Rus lowered his head, "I'm sorry."
Tengil swallowed his reprimand, "Don't do that again next time. If you want to hunt, I can teach you some skills."
Leeman Rus glared at him, "I don't need you to teach me!"
Tengil looked at his warriors, and then everyone burst into laughter, only Worp and Rus felt bewildered.
...
"Awoo."
Worp walked into the king's tent, and Sylvia let out a howl like a class bell.
All the Rus Tribe children stood up and shouted in unison, "Good morning, teacher."
"Good morning, students."
Worp stood before the stone-built podium, his gaze sweeping over the children sitting on the ground, lingering longest on Leeman Rus.
Worp tapped the slate with his finger, making a crisp sound.
"Rus, after class, you and the other children who have turned five will stay. This afternoon, you are to follow the tribe's warriors to hunt on the ice plains; you are their alpha wolf."
Rus nodded seriously, feeling the weighty responsibility.
"Take out your textbooks; we'll continue with the lesson."
The children pulled out animal skins covered in writing, and eager gazes fell upon Worp.
"Rus, where did we leave off last lesson?"
Rus: "Chapter Twenty-Five, Asgard's Divine King's Palace, the One-Eyed Hero Controls Heavenly Secrets."
"Then today we will continue with the Twenty-Sixth Chapter of Norse Mythology,"
Worp picked up the elk skull and slapped it onto the slate with a 'thud', "The Fierce God Steps on Snow to Protect His Young, the Ice Axe Smashes Light and Shatters Divine Bodies!"
"It is said that Kratos, after slaughtering all the Olympians and drenching the golden steps in blood, ventured alone into Midgard. He shed his red sash, removed his blood armor, concealed his murderous aura, and restrained his divine edge! Yet, he encountered Laufey, a giantess of frost and fire, whose single ice axe cleaved the northern blizzards, and whose two bursts of strange fire melted the cold iron in the Godslayer's heart!"
"The ominous star, covered in red patterns, offered his Blades of Chaos as a betrothal gift, and united with the giantess's bloodline. Who would have thought—frost and fire would birth a divine heir, and a cold axe would cleave destiny! Laufey, on her deathbed, bit through her frost fangs, imprinting the Nine Realms' map into the child's spine; Kratos burned the Chains of Chaos, yet taught him to wield an ice axe to hunt deer and shoot sparrows."
"The innocent child did not know that his father had tasted the throat-blood of the twelve chief gods; the ice axe in his hand was even colder, capable of cleaving the frost and snow of the Nine Realms."
"However, the northern blizzards could not conceal his murderous aura. He happened upon Baldr, the son of the One-Eyed God-King, and despite his best efforts, could not defeat him. The Godslayer hid his Blades of Chaos, but ultimately could not suppress his destiny of god-slaying! ..."
"Thud!"
Worp slammed down the desk, the elk skull hitting the slate with a dull thud.
But the children were mesmerized, their hearts no longer in the classroom, but completely immersed in the stories of Norse mythology, unable to forget them for a long time.
Worp: "Rus, what did you learn from this story?"
Two months had passed, and Rus had grown into an adult; his two-meter tall, sturdy frame made anyone hesitate to treat him as a child.
Only Worp was an exception; even though Rus's hunting skills rivaled the strongest warriors of the Rus Tribe, he still had to dutifully attend class in the king's tent every morning.
Tengil had also invested heavily; to clear out a classroom for these children, he gave up the king's tent during the day, as only the king's tent could accommodate all the children of the tribe.
In the evenings, the parents of these children, the tribe's warriors, would also gather here to feast on meat and drink wine.
Rus: "Kratos and Atreus, they get along so awkwardly. Kratos is an old stubborn man; he didn't even blink when slaughtering the gods, but his way of expressing concern for his own son is pitifully clumsy."
"And Atreus, not yet understanding the tenderness behind his father's silence, was already eager to show his rebellious fangs."
Years later, the grown-up youth might, in some deep night, suddenly understand those unspoken glances, comprehending his father's clumsy concern.
But the trouble he had caused, the mistakes he had made, he would never have a chance to make amends for in this life.
"What is unobtainable in youth will forever bind one's life."
Worp said, "Rus summarized it very well, and this is also what I want to teach you. You can still touch the cloaks woven by your mothers, and you can still hear the sound of your fathers sharpening their battle axes. These ordinary sounds, one day, will be more memorable than the hunting horns you anticipate!"
"True warriors must not only dare to face the fangs of beasts, but also dare to say the simplest 'I love you' to their dearest ones. While you are still young, do not be afraid to express your emotions, and do not wait until the day you lose them to regret it bitterly!"
The children all lowered their heads, the firelight casting flickering shadows on their downcast eyelashes.
Someone unconsciously caressed the wooden battle axe carved by their father's own hands; someone remembered their mother quietly tucking in the corner of their animal hide blanket on a cold night. Those gentle acts, once taken for granted, now seemed so precious.
Several teenagers bit their lower lips tightly; they suddenly realized that the harsh words they blurted out when yelling at their loved ones were even more hurtful than the Fenris Wolf's claws. The bonfire crackled, as if burning the softest regrets in everyone's hearts.
"Go back and tell your parents 'I'm sorry, I love you.' This is the homework I'm giving you. Tomorrow, I'm inviting your parents for a parent-teacher conference, and I will call out the names of those students who haven't completed their homework!"
Rus: "What if we don't have parents?"
A few soft sobs could be heard in the frozen air; some children truly had lost their parents.
Fenris was merciless to all her inhabitants; while humans hunted beasts, they too would be hunted by beasts.
No matter how careful one was, some would unfortunately lose their lives during a hunt.
Their children would be adopted by the tribe, but these children's parents would never return.
Qiaolin Bloodhowl's parents were still alive, but the crying and sobbing of the other children still made him lower his head in distress.
Worp: "If you don't have parents, go find King Tengil; he will take you to your parents' graves."
"What about me?"
Rus asked.
Worp thought for a moment, "You can find me, or Sylvia."
The wolf mother heard Worp call her name, raised her muzzle, and affectionately rubbed Worp's cheek.
"Hmm."
Rus squeezed out a dull response from his nose.
Worp knew from Rus's expression that he would most likely go to Sylvia. If it were Koz, he would be shy for a while, but he would still go to Worp. Logar would even kneel down on the spot and beg Worp not to leave, saying he would do anything.
Worp sighed, how did Rus become like this? Where was the bold Wolf King he remembered?