Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"Move! Take up arms! Assemble at the end of the team!"

Wilt lifted up the big tent where the soldiers lived and shouted in. Soon, their only remaining twenty-five warriors and Wilt, the iceborn, marched towards the end of the line.

Several furnaces heard the movement. With a worried look, he stuck his head out of the tent and peeked out, but Wilt pushed them back and told them to stay inside and make no noise.

"what's the situation?"

Wilhelm caught up, and he came to Wilt and asked.

"Don't know yet, but we have to get ready. There's something coming from the blizzard, and Variana has passed." He described the situation as succinctly as possible.

Wilhelm frowned deeply, he wiped his beard, and said, "It can't be them, right?"

"Not sure, but if it's them. We should be lying down by now."

They move fast, and the distance is not very far. After a few words, Wilt was able to see Variana's figure. Her long pale blond hair was braided into a thick ponytail, and it danced in the wind behind her head. Standing beside her was a warm-blooded man with black robes and black hair, very handsome. Even with the picky Freljordian aesthetic, there's nothing wrong with it.

But everyone was nervous. For no other reason, the black robe that the warm-blooded man wore was too thin.

Walking in a snowstorm and wearing such light clothes... Could it be that he is an Iceborn? But that's impossible, he doesn't have the aura of ice blood, and the outfit looks like a warm-blooded person.

Wilt felt puzzled, and just as he was thinking, Variana turned around and beckoned to him.

Wilt was a little surprised when Variana asked him the first sentence: "Do you remember how to get to Ornkar Rock?"

Wirth looked her in the eyes for a hint or something. But there was nothing, it seemed that she really just came to him to ask for directions.

He nodded calmly: "I still remember."

Variana was visibly relieved, and the mysterious warm-blooded man laughed. He clapped his hands, and in the next second, something that everyone could not understand happened.

The snowstorm, which seemed to never stop, was paused in an instant, and the snowflakes floated in the air and no longer fell. The residual light of the sun that was about to set on the horizon made these snowflakes burst into a strange light. The evil wind that had been roaring ceaselessly also stopped, and at this moment, all sounds were silent.

Wilt saw Wilhelm's mouth open wide,

He seemed completely unable to understand what was going on. Not only him, but Wilt estimated that the expression on his face was not much better.

At this moment, he heard the man say to Variana, "So, what would you like to eat?"

Variana stared blankly at the scene in front of her, and when she heard the mage's voice, she turned her head in a daze, and it took a while to realize what the mage was saying, but her attitude was very low: "As long as it is food, ,Your Mightiness!"

The mage shrugged. "I don't know what you Freljordians like to eat, but I'm from a place that's very picky about food, so..."

He clapped his hands again, and a long table that could accommodate hundreds of people at the same time appeared out of thin air, filled with all kinds of food. Soft white bread, bisque, cheese. More than a dozen roasted whole lambs were piled up with bacon sausages and roasted chickens built into hills, and Wilt could clearly hear the sound of swallowing saliva behind him.

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After eating and drinking, Wirth sat in the warriors' big tent. He sat on the ground after a long absence, in a very relaxed posture. The others weren't much better, and they were all obviously struggling. This is unprecedented.

Not to mention that the food is very delicious, that is, the amount that can make them eat enough and still have a lot left is extremely exaggerated. This was completely unimaginable in the past. The people of the Ibratar tribe have long been accustomed to starvation.

Open your belly to eat? Yes, but maybe only once a year. And they can die for a variety of reasons on their way to plentiful food—frozen death is the most common way to die.

"I still don't understand, Wilt."

Wilhelm sat beside him, holding his great sword, tapping his fingers against the thick blade. He suddenly said such a sentence, which was echoed by the others.

"Yeah, how did that warm-blooded man do it?"

"Don't call people the warm-blooded person now, idiot, call him... What do the warm-blooded people call them? Noble Master Mage! Yes, just call him that!"

"Aren't you calling too?"

"At least I'm more polite than you!"

"*Freljord foul language, which contains a lot of questioning about masculinity and insults to his immediate family and a lot of metaphors, like you're not even as good as a hair on Steppenwolf xx.*"

Not caring about the two bastards who were obviously overeating and having excess energy, Wilt smiled: "Don't care how he did it, take care of yourself first."

"You're right, but I can't figure out why he's willing to pay so much for food for things like directions?"

Wilhelm had some truth in what he said.

In this bitter cold land, food is absolute hard currency. Not to mention the gold on the outside, sometimes even a sharp sword is not as good as half a piece of frozen plateau goat meat that is harder than a stone. Wilt didn't actually figure it out either, but he was smarter than Wilhelm.

"I said, are you too full? Huh? People can stop those blizzards. Have you ever seen anyone with this ability?"

Wilt stretched out his hand and tapped Wilhelm's breastplate, and he smiled: "A person with such strength can do whatever he wants, we have nothing to do... Of course, if he really wants to do something something else..."

He didn't continue speaking, and the atmosphere in the tent became stagnant for a while. Everyone knew what the second half of his unspoken sentence was.

An Ibratar never gives in.

Inside Variana's tent.

Even as a war mother, she did not enjoy any privileges. On the contrary, the furnishing in her tent was not even as elaborate as those of the furnace households. She only put an animal skin on the ground, and it was gone.

The young war mother rubbed her hands in embarrassment and said, "I'm sorry, I have nothing to entertain you. This is not in line with Ibratar's hospitality."

"fine."

The mage was standing beside her, and he was still flipping through the book with the book in his hand. He said casually, "I won't be staying for long, in fact, I'll be leaving soon. Don't care about the politeness."

After speaking, he raised his head, glanced at Variana who seemed to want to say something, and smiled lightly: "If you want to say something, just say it."

On the contrary, this sentence calmed her down, and the young war mother smiled: "No, it's nothing, sir. Thank you for your help. Ibratar will not forget this kindness."

She pulled out her axe, cut a small wound on the back of her left hand, then put down the axe, dipped a little blood with her middle and index fingers, and smeared it on her forehead.

Variana said solemnly: "Valhar—in my blood, in your name, I call upon you, and beg you to watch your followers. We kill in your name, and we die in your name. Now, I can't repay the benefactor in front of me..."

She wanted to continue talking, but the mage suddenly put out a hand and covered her mouth. He raised his head and looked at the top of the tent. His gaze was very distant, as if it had penetrated the thick cloth and saw the starry sky outside.

"It's better to swear not to mess with your hair. Like I said, it's a deal. You tell me the way, and I'll stop the snow and bring you food. Fair enough."

He retracted his hand and said lightly.

Variana was in a hurry.

"That's out of order! How does what you're doing compare to what we're doing? Any Freljord knows how to get to Ornkar Rock!"

"But I met you first."

He Shenyan put away the book, he turned and left the tent. After Variana chased outside, she found that the mysterious mage had disappeared. His disappearance was as sudden as his appearance.

He flashed at the top of the snowy mountain not far away, looking at the team below that seemed very small due to the distance, He Shenyan shook his head gently.

"Is that an oath? No, no...that's older than an oath."

He frowned and muttered to himself, recalling the breath he had just felt. In Variana, when the young Warmother said those words, he felt something gather in the sky. He represents a wild will, a wildness that cannot be domesticated. He even faintly heard thunder.

His power may not be worth mentioning to He Shenyan, but his wild will is very interesting to him.

And... even though what Variana said was very much like the premise of some kind of oath, it was definitely not the oath itself. Any mage will be taught a variety of mysticism when they start, and they are allowed to choose three of them that they are interested in to learn independently. In addition to these, there are a large number of compulsory subjects.

I don't know where Gu Yi learned it from. At that time, he thought he was back in high school, even more bitter.

The three courses He Shenyan chose were formation, oath, and contract.

Of course, there is no need to mention the formation method. The oath and the contract are somewhat similar, but these two things are completely different.

Contracts are the favorite of demons, they like to use this kind of thing to trap mortals, and of course, those lawyers who have no professional ethics.

And oaths are very different - in the occult, oaths are very old things, probably as old as human history, even before magic existed. And often once it is said, it is absolutely not allowed to change.

You can swear by anything, stones, trees, grass, the sun...even yourself. But if you swear, then you must do what you swore. It's an iron law that can't be changed, and that's where the oath is most interesting. If you are weak, or if you are a mortal, the oath does not bind you in any way.

But if you're strong enough...then the oath really becomes a yoke, something you have to do even if you don't want to. Because the real person who makes the vows believable is you. It is the mages themselves that restrain themselves.

The girl's unspoken words are not an oath, she is simply expressing to a certain existence what she will do in the future. She had neither the condition of the oath nor the will.

Looking at the beautiful night sky in the north, He Shenyan had some guesses in his heart. And if this is what he thinks, then he may have more research to do in the next period of time.

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almost.

The Aonkar rock formation is close at hand.

Kedar took a breath and put the heavy axe in his hand on his shoulders. Along the way, his father's face and Skhirl's face kept coming back to him, but in the end, they were all gone.

Only the scene in front of him remained.

Under the night sky, the stars shone with their due brilliance, and a full moon hung in the sky. Starlight and moonlight illuminated Kedar's silent figure, the elder who pulled his shadow on the ground. Step by step, he descended the mountain steadily.

The rocky land is located by the sea. Although the sea has not yet frozen at this season, there are no fish on the shore. And he wasn't here to eat fish.

Coming down from the mountain, Kedal finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He stepped on the rock, after ten years. An indescribable joy swept through his body, and he realized that this was the moment.

Yes, this is the moment.

Clenching the giant axe in his hand, he walked to the beach little by little. The sound of the waves moved toward his ears, and the icy sea breeze brushed against his cheeks. Kedal took off Lindell's horn helmet, turned around, and knelt on his knees facing the direction of the cliff.

There is a black hole, and there are many caves below. That's where people used to live in the summer, beneath those thick rock formations. Kedal knew that there was another occupant.

Putting the horn helmet aside, he flicked the horn with his fingers. Hearing the crisp voice, Kedar grinned: "You said you wanted to look at me, Lindel, now you can watch it."

He cut his right index finger with the blade of the axe, and the freezing cold air quickly entered his body along the blood vessels. Kedal was shivering from the cold, but he was still doing what he was going to do.

He clenched his right hand, let the blood drip, and then pressed it to the ground. The sand was hissed by his blood, and smoke rose up, obscuring his face.

Kedal sniffed in satisfaction, his smile even brighter. He grabbed a handful of sand that was burning with his own blood, smeared the sand on his face, and began to shout in some bleak and ancient language.

His voice traveled far and wide, echoing echoes among the mountains.

"The horn of the mountains! The protector of the blacksmiths and the furnaces! The god of forging, the lava itself! I call you! In your name, with the blood of my father, my brother, and myself, I call you!"

As he spoke, he cut off his left hand, and the cold air entered his body again. This axe is not a true ice weapon, otherwise he would have died long ago. But it must have been enchanted by a witch doctor in the tribe. Kedal felt colder and colder, and at the same time, the pain in his hand and the fire in his heart began to grow stronger.

The pain didn't go away, it became more and more intense. As fuelwood, it made the flame in his heart more vigorous.

He clenched his left hand, blood dripping. Start shouting again, as you did before.

The ritual continued until he himself became confused from the loss of blood. Kedal's resilience is strong, and the wound on his finger has long since healed. As a last resort, he cut two very deep wounds on the palm of his hand. In his heart, he had no idea whether the god would come out and see him, but he had to do it.

It's about his oath.

So he gritted his teeth, and the hot blood burned the sand again. Finally, when he was about to faint, a scorching heat from the inside completely dispelled the chills in his body.

Kedal bowed his head deeply, and repeated the words he had said countless times.

"The horn of the mountains! The protector of the blacksmiths and the furnaces! The god of forging, the lava itself! I call you! In your name, with the blood of my father, my brother, and myself, I call you!"

This time, he got a response.

Aonkar Rock, this ancient and low hill began to collapse inch by inch. An orange light gradually lit up from the mountain, the mountain collapsed and the gravel flew. A flame rushed into the sky like a fountain, and the rubble melted and flew everywhere. Some even hit Kedar in the face, but he remained motionless, kneeling there with his head down, as if he had fallen asleep.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the axe, and the frost-like surface of the axe began to melt gradually, revealing the black fine iron axe inside. It is still sharp, but the coldness will never come back.

The ground began to tremble.

A heavy footstep came little by little in front of him, and Kedar looked up and saw a majestic black statue—no, it wasn't a statue.

Kedal felt that he was as tall as three pine trees combined, and the outline of his body appeared shadowy in the rising heat. The huge curved horns on the top of his head had fiery red lines, which were slowly lighting up with his breathing. Then dimmed again.

He has strong arms and a beautifully pinned beard, the kind of beard that every Freljord man would love to have. Kedal felt in a trance that his red eyes were actually the burning flame itself.

He began to speak, and the mountains trembled again: "Stand up."

Kedal did as he was told, and his height of 2.5 meters was like a toy in front of him.

"Great Ornn! I beg of you—"

"--I remember you."

His voice was like thunder and flames fighting, and the sound of the sound made Kedar feel dizzy. He apparently noticed this too, and lowered his voice, which to him almost amounted to a grunt.

"You're that kid, aren't you?"