Chapter 494: Chapter 253: Karlosh, Tears Frozen in the Night_2
I know, they don’t take these words seriously.
They never believed that with my less-than-impressive physique among peers, I could become a great warrior inheriting the will of my ancestors.
Perhaps they are right.
After all, even now, when I recall the ambitious words I spoke in my childhood, I can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed.
Whenever someone brings it up, I just wave my hand and change the subject.
For the brothers and sisters in the tribe, a few drinks and some anecdotes about demons on the snowfields are enough to cover any topic he doesn’t want to mention.
But "most courageous", "most powerful", "most favored", "leader"... Who hasn’t thought about it growing up in the tribe?
They simply know the gap between themselves and those leaders, and dare not speak out in front of others.
"Grom", my name is not common in the tribe because it did not come from the priest who never smiles, with more wrinkles on his face than cracks on the icy surface.
It was chosen by my human father, the big shot I have never seen since birth.
He hoped I could be like "Grom"—the rumble of thunder, making my name echo in the wind and snow of the highlands.
Honestly, this foolish "strange father", after realizing his son, myself, was of mixed heritage between barbarian and human, should not have placed such expectations on me.
The human blood flowing in my veins naturally made me shorter than my peers in the tribe.
When children of the same age are fighting with frost wolves in the wind and snow, I even need to wear several layers of thick beast skin clothes to barely hold steady against the chilling cold in the air.
Even the symbol of being favored by the ancestors, the fervent anger, is much harder for me to perceive than others.
The human lineage within me makes my emotions more stable and seldom angered compared to other tribe members.
Evidently, in a barbarian tribe, this is not a good thing.
However, it’s like the blizzard on the highland, making returning travelers completely lost in the depths of ice and snow, but also making dangerous predators lose the scent and tracks of their pursuit behind him.
The human blood flowing in me makes my body far less strong than other barbarians in the tribe, but it grants me talents they don’t possess.
Battle skills, these powerful abilities, prerequisites for obtaining professional level.
I comprehend them much faster than others.
While the leader among peers who used to mock me by holding up wolf heads said I might not even be able to beat a snow hare, was still worrying about becoming a beginner, I had already mastered the first form of battle skill to "mastery".
Soon, as my professional level improved, the physical attribute boost provided by "mastery" level battle skills made up for the physical gap with other tribe members.
Even achieved my childhood dream of becoming a member of the tribe’s hunting team.
The ambitious words of the past seemed to have become a possible reality.
No, this is far from enough.
The mixed blood requires me to put in more effort to get the deserved rewards.
To earn the respect of tribe members, inherit the will of the ancestors, and take the glorious position.
More must be put in.
I found that opportunity.
...
...
This is my 63rd day at Splitfang Highlands.
The white mist from my mouth is almost instantly torn apart by the chilling cold air; the thick thick wolverine fur wrapped around me makes me like the jagged black rocks seen everywhere on the highlands, merging with the earth.
The wind and snow remain, but my heart grows ever hotter.
How to gain the recognition of the tribe, and even be pushed to the highest position.
In the Human Kingdom on the continent, this might require a complex, cumbersome, and extremely difficult process.
But for the barbarians on the highlands, only two points are needed:
1. Loyalty;
2. Make enough contributions to the tribe.
Regarding the former, the mysterious race lineage within me makes me naturally lag behind others.
This also means that I need to make a contribution far exceeding other candidates to turn childhood dreams into reality.
For the barbarians, from which aspect, and what kind of contribution, can be considered huge?
A victory so heroic that it could be remembered in the tribe’s history?
Currently, Frost Howl Clan does not have enemies of such specifications, and my strength is still insufficient to be the core of such a war.
Enough food resources to last the whole tribe through winter so no one dies of hunger or freezes?
Though I was indeed once a member of the hunting team, there’s still a long way to go before being captain, and my experience is far inferior to those seniors.
If such an opportunity truly arose, it surely wouldn’t fall to me.
Ultimately, I chose to start from my advantage, which is also the root cause that landed me in such circumstances.
Hope lies in the remarkable insight brought by human bloodline, developing an excellent battle skill applicable to the entire tribe.
Using this as my recompense to the tribe, supporting me in my climb upwards as a great contribution.
Following the tribe’s epic narrated by the great priest who lived for who knows how long on countless cold nights.
I came alone to the depths of the highland, hoping the blizzard and demons here would bring me enlightenment.
After a long mundane and extremely patience-consuming wait, I found my target:
——a large pack of Winter Wolves.
"Awoo!"