Goblin Heavy Dependence

Chapter 95: Fire Under the Ice
"Furgan."

It means fire under the ice.

Not the Common Speech, nor the obscure slang of the North.

It is said to be an epic poem passed down from generation to generation from the "Frostthroat" clan.

When he was young, Fugang was always dissatisfied with his name.

In his little head, "flame" should be the most powerful thing in the world besides the patriarch.

It can dispel the cold and bring rare warmth to the tribesmen trapped in the ice, snow, wind and frost.

Even the pieces of meat that were originally so hard that their teeth trembled when they were chewed, became soft, juicy and delicious after being roasted by the flames. He wanted to swallow his tongue into his stomach.

And after learning from the warriors in the tribe that those powerful barbarians who were protected by the spirits of their ancestors often had the most intense anger burning in their hearts.

He gradually became disgusted with his own name.

Flame should burn brightly and unreservedly.

Rather than being covered under ice.

Therefore, when he was young, although Fugang had the strongest body among his peers, he seldom proudly introduced the origin of his name like his friends around him.

He just used the muscles in his arms and a nonchalant expression to change the subject.

But after all, he is a child whose mind is not yet mature and who longs for recognition from his peers.

No matter how indifferent he appeared to be in outside, when it was late at night and everyone was asleep, he would always pester his mother before going to bed, asking her over and over again if his name had any other meaning.

The perseverance to get to the bottom of things can melt even the ice.

However, the names of newborns in the Frostthroat Tribe are usually named by the tribe leader himself after divination after they are one month old.

The simple and hardworking young woman, who had never left the Frost Moss Highlands since she was born, knew no more about the meaning of the word "Frogon" than he did.

It is also impossible to disturb the busiest and most respected old man in the tribe for such a small matter.

It just repeats over and over again the meaning that has been said countless times.

"Beneath the ice, there is a fire burning."

"Ice layer, flame."

"Ice, flame..."

Whenever she lost her patience with the children's relentless questioning, she would bring up the same little story that she had repeated countless times.

"Disobedient children will be snatched from their homes by the Winter Ghost when they are asleep at night and made into speechless snowmen."

I have to say, the kids on the ice field really fall for this.

Especially when you hear the witch riding on her gray broom, using her ugly, shriveled claws like branches to pull the child out of the bed by the neck.

No matter how excited Fugan was, he could only hide his head in the quilt in fear and beg his mother not to put out the fire tonight.

Time goes by.

As his body grew stronger, his height grew taller.

Even his mother, who used to have to squat down to look him in the eye, now had to raise her head when talking to him.

The worries of childhood have been replaced by more immature and complicated sorrows and expectations.

The cold light flashing from the axe blade in the ice and snow, the extra scars on the arms, the hot breath exhaled by the winter wolf when it roared... and even the braids of the girl's hair swaying in the wind.

Fugang no longer cares about the specific meaning of his name.

It's just a code name.

"Wow."

He weighed the heavy backpack in his hand, which was filled to the brim with all kinds of supplies.

There was a hint of helplessness on Fugan's face, which still retained some of his youthful immaturity.

"You don't need to bring so many things. You can buy them in the town outside."

His little protest was naturally no match for his mother's worry.

I have also become much more sensible and realized that my family is worried about me as I am about to go on a long journey.

Without complaining, just making a few jokes, thinking of easing the wrinkles on his mother's forehead, he put the bag firmly on his back.

I was escorted out of the house.

"what……"

I heard the girl's scream.

Looking over there, I only saw a nimble figure like a snow rabbit, hurriedly leaving with two powerful long legs.

A long, slightly blue braid was left behind, dancing in the snow light.

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to them?"

Beside him, his mother patted his shoulder with some teasing.

Fugang just shook his head and tightened the backpack behind him.

It happened that the hunting team returned.

The thick brown fur was frozen with ice crystals, and the snow mammoth, like a mountain of flesh, was carried into the tribe by several muscular and strong barbarian warriors.

The wooden sled at the back was carrying many prey of varying sizes.

A great harvest under the blessing of heroic spirits.

With all these trophies, this winter will no longer be as difficult for the Frostmaw Clan as in the past.

On both sides of the road, the tribesmen's joyful cheers could be heard.

Looking at the hunters who were holding their heads high, a hint of envy flashed across Fugan's eyes, but it quickly disappeared into the depths of his ice-blue eyes.

As the bravest warrior among this generation of young people in the tribe.

I could have been one of them, but...

Fugan shook his head vigorously, throwing away the hesitation.

Determination returned to his face.

A winter wolf following the team smelled a familiar scent.

He came over with his tongue sticking out and light steps.

His body was pressed against Fugan's thigh, and his hairy head was rubbing against his palm.

The long tail swung at high speed, stirring up bursts of snow on the ground, which was enough to scare the monster's wolf eyes, making it squint in comfort and ease.

In the palm of my hand, I felt the cool and smooth touch of the winter wolf's fur.

The sudden action of his most loyal companion made the burly man walking at the front of the hunting team notice Fugang on the side of the road.

He greeted his teammates and strode over.

"Have you thought about it?"

"Ah."

"No regrets?"

Fergan nodded vigorously.

The warriors before us, who always told stories of the past in the company of children of the tribe after the hunt, are no longer young.

His temples seemed to be covered with frost and were pale.

The thick and hard palm landed heavily on Fugan's shoulder.

"Good."

“Just know where to go.”

There was not much regret in his words, only joy that the young people had found a way forward.

After thinking for a while, the warrior took out a mammoth tusk that reflected the warm light of bone from his arms and put it into Fugang's hand.

"Go."

"Come back anytime you want."

"The hunting team will always keep a place for you."

"..."

Holding the ivory in his hand, Fugang, accompanied by his mother, arrived at the last stop before leaving the tribe.

"Hula."

The orange-red flame burned quietly, with only a few faint whistles emitted when a cold wind blew occasionally.

It is not firewood as the world sees it, but just quietly falls on the surface of the ice and rock with intricate patterns and a wild atmosphere, swallowing up the ice and coldness in the plateau air, as if turning it into fuel to make it rise and boil.

Behind the flames, in the very center of the altar, stood a pitch-black totem.

The texture on the surface is blurred, and even if you look closely, it is difficult to make out the patterns carved on it.

Looks like some kind of flower?
Underage children in the tribe are not allowed to approach, let alone touch.

As they grow older and lose their curiosity, they often no longer pay attention to the patterns on the totems.

The same is true for Fergan.

The only memory he had of the sacred flame that was said to have come from ancient times was the words that the clan leader had replied to his doubts when he was a child:
"This is the treasure of the Frostthroat Clan. As long as there is one member of the clan still alive in this world, it will be gone."

"The flame will never go out."

Now, many years have passed since that day.

The patriarch still had that smiling face, but his old face, which had been covered with wrinkles since he could remember, seemed no different from before.

Maybe I have a few more wrinkles, but I haven't noticed.

Countless thoughts flowed through his mind, and his fluctuating heart gradually became calm under the light of the fire.

About to travel far away.

The old man, who named Fugang when he was born, will also give him his final wishes on behalf of the entire tribe.

"Boom boom!"

The flames that were originally burning calmly suddenly became fierce, and the warm flames intertwined and merged with the dazzling halo under the clouds. Under the guidance of the dark totem, it turned into a beam of light that shone dimly and enveloped Fugan's body.

The old man moved his lips and chanted an unknown eulogy, with an icy blue glow on his fingertips.

Trembling, wild and sacred lines were outlined on the barbarian's young face.

Flashes and then goes off.

The ice-blue light seemed to penetrate into his body, gradually dimming and disappearing.

That is a blessing from the heroic spirits of the tribe.

Fugan stood up slowly and bowed his head to the old man in front of him who was looking at him with a smile, as well as to the flames and totems behind him.

After today, he will leave the tribe completely and find his own way.

Suddenly, there was a noise from the crowd watching nearby.

Amid the good-natured laughter of the tribesmen.

A girl with long braids and a snow rabbit-like figure came up to him, panting.

As they got closer, their originally hurried and chaotic steps became slower and slower.

A shy blush appeared on her fair and tender cheeks.

She did not speak.

She just held it in her hands and handed a thin chain she had woven herself to Fugan.

Reaching out to take the necklace, Fugan looked at the pretty girl approaching.

He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something.

At this moment, the world seems to have been paused.

The falling snowflakes and swaying flames were frozen in mid-air; the biting cold wind that swirled overhead all year round stopped howling, and the laughter from the surrounding crowd also suddenly disappeared.

The young girl, the old man, and the crowd looked at their mother, as if frozen in place.

As if he had subconsciously anticipated what was going to happen, Fugan wanted to struggle and shout, but he was unable to move.

hum-

The next second, time suddenly accelerated.

His already strong muscles gradually expanded, the immaturity on his face was replaced by maturity and weathering, and a rough stubble grew on his chin;

The girl in front of me has also lost her childishness with the passage of time, the old man's hair has become paler, and the corners of my mother's eyes are filled with wrinkles.

Then, there was that disgusting dark purple light that exuded a smell of decay.

The air, which should have been filled with ice, snow and coldness, was suddenly filled with extremely fine plant spores like smoke.

With a strong malice hidden in the deepest part of nature, the spores gently fell on the bodies of the tribesmen.

Taking root and sprouting, absorbing the vitality of life.

The skin that had never shown signs of decay under the erosion of wind and frost gradually turned blue-gray due to the loss of life, and dirty spots appeared on the surface.

The hyphae wriggled, growing and spreading from under the pores and between the strands of hair, entangled and growing with each other...

Having experienced this countless times, Fugang still closed his eyes and dared not look again.

Memories that were more painful than the sharpest fangs washed over his mind again and again.

Even though many years have passed.

He still remembers.

After returning to the tribe, the ruins before us were buried by ice and snow.

He dug through the cold snow with his own hands and buried the bodies of his tribesmen under the ice monument;

Peel off the winter wolf's already stiff fur, and pierce the wolf's mouth with a bone nail made of mammoth ivory and embed it into the wolf's chest;
Pull apart the tangled thorns, straighten the fallen totem, pick up the fragments on the ground, and with the help of cold wind and ice crystals, turn them into a flickering axe blade...

Sitting alone in front of the altar with only a faint flame.

What Fugang held in his hand was a simple necklace that seemed to still retain body temperature and was full of girlish feelings.

Even when facing the shadow cast by the dragon, his face remained as cold and frosty as ever.

Suddenly I felt a drop of scalding liquid sliding down.

Until this moment.

He finally knew the true meaning of his name.

"Furgan."

"The fire beneath the ice."

……

……

"Crack."

The remaining moisture in the branches breaks away from the wood fibers under the burning flames, making a crisp sound.

Fugan suddenly opened his eyes, and the cold chill surrounding his body gradually disappeared as the nightmare ended.

The wolf kisses overlapped on the chest, and the silver-white fur of the cloak gently swayed in the evening breeze; the thin chain with bone and tooth pendants around the neck refracted the flames under the firelight; the obsidian axe at the waist gently fell to the ground.

He sat by the campfire, his rugged face still as cold as if covered by frost.

It was as if he was just taking a nap and nothing happened.

But the gradually rising temperature in the camp and the fluorescent ice crystals in the air around him showed the fluctuations in his heart just now.

The huge oak tree behind him seemed intact, with only a faint icy glow flashing between the rough bark.

In fact, everything from the huge root system deep in the soil to the tiny branches in the crown and the inside covered by the bark have turned into ice sculptures.

"Ah!"

Xia Nan sat opposite the campfire, shivering and sneezing violently.

It is hard to imagine that in the hottest season of the year, I can still catch a cold while wearing double layers of armor.

Put your hands close to the fire and warm them.

He raised his head slightly and glanced at the barbarian Fugan who was sitting quietly opposite him.

Of course he knew that the sudden change in the camp environment was related to the other party.

Ever since they found the mushroom in the goblin's lair during the day, they had always felt something was not right.

But since Fugan didn't mean to explain, he didn't ask.

Now that things have developed to this point, Xia Nan can no longer remain silent.

After a slight hesitation, he spoke slowly and cautiously:

"Is there...something going on?"

The barbarian didn't even look up, his icy blue eyes reflecting the orange-red fire.

"fine."

(End of this chapter)