Barbarian races is a term unique to humans. Just like the high-level undead of the Everfrost Wasteland are collectively called Alien Ghosts, ferocious beasts are called Demon Beasts, and both Dream Demons and Goblins are called the Demon Race. In fact, aside from larger races like Elves and Dwarves, most humanoid races with small populations are called Barbarian Races.
“Next, the barbarian race we’re going to find is called the Baba Bon Tribe, a barbarian race only found in the Northlands. They live in snow caves, are short, have strong cold resistance, and don’t eat much, which is why they can survive in the Everfrost Wasteland. There are quite a few Baba Bon Tribes here.”
Shirley explained excitedly, as if afraid the others might misunderstand barbarian races. But actually, no one had any misunderstandings; it was just Shirley’s own worry, though she was also excited while speaking.
“Although the Baba Bon Tribe has the ability to survive here, their life is very hard. So we also provide them with some supplies and other help, and they repay us—it’s a trade! For example, they share information with us, such as the movements of Alien Ghosts, Demon Beasts, and disasters like avalanches. If our soldiers need rest on the march, they also provide shelter and food for replenishment.”
Lita had already understood, and the others had no questions either.
“The nearest stronghold should be not far, probably in this direction?” Shirley said, looking at her Eight-in-One Magic Compass while scanning for direction on horseback.
Under Shirley’s lead, the group soon arrived at a low hill before noon. The Everfrost Wasteland wasn’t entirely flat; there were some terrain undulations, and everyone would camp and rest in leeward depressions. Even though Lita had only been in the Northlands for nine days, she had never seen such a perfect campsite—it could be called a textbook example.
“Go around here, and it’s the territory of the Baba Bon Tribe.” Shirley pointed with her compass toward the direction behind the hill.
After some time, the group rode along the foot of the low hill, bypassing most of it.
“That’s not right?” Shirley was the first to raise a doubt.
“What’s wrong?”
Shirley turned her head to look at the path they came from, then fell into a long contemplation. After advancing another hundred meters or so, Shirley turned her head back. “We’ve already come this far, and the Baba Bon Tribe’s scouts haven’t discovered us or made contact. I feel like something’s off.”
Reminded by Shirley, Lita also felt something strange. It was already odd that they hadn’t seen any other creatures on the snowfield before, and now they were almost at the doorstep of the Baba Bon Tribe with no one in sight—that was more than unusual.
With doubts, the group finally rounded that hill and arrived at a leeward lowland.
“We’re here. That’s it. Enter that snow cave, and you’ll be in the Baba Bon Tribe’s territory.”
If Shirley hadn’t pointed it out, Lita would never have noticed the very hidden entrance on that white snow wall. But Lita grew even more puzzled. It was as if they had entered someone’s yard and were about to push open the door, yet the owner remained unmoved.
Rosalia didn’t show it obviously, but a hint of gravity mixed into her expression. The others also dismounted and entered the snow cave one by one.
“Let’s go in and take a look.” Shirley dismounted, tied her horse nearby, and then the first thing she did was equip her pair of Armored Gauntlets.
The entrance of the snow cave was quite narrow; most people had to hunch a little except for Cecilia. After a few dozen steps, the view opened up. Though there was no peach blossom forest, the scene still shocked Lita. This place seemed to have been dug directly out of a mountain; the cave walls showed visible traces of chiseling and smoothing. Even without torchlight, Lita could make out the simple but fully equipped furnishings inside.
“That’s not right? Why is no one here?” Shirley blinked in confusion, then scraped her Armored Gauntlet against the stone wall to create sparks, ignited a piece of cotton cloth, and used it to light a torch in her hand.
With the torchlight, the room lit up, and the group finally saw the full picture. Lita sniffed; although the smell wasn’t pleasant, there was almost no smell of blood, so there probably hadn’t been any fighting.
‘Then… did they flee?’ Lita thought as she followed the others deeper.
“Huh?” Lita heard Shirley suddenly let out a surprised sound. Then Cecilia, who was walking in front of her, stopped. After a few seconds, she slowly entered the room.
Entering the room, the first thing Lita saw was several fur garments scattered on the ground, like those worn by tribespeople. Then she made out what had caused Shirley’s surprised sound.
It should be said, a person. That person was only about the height of an average human child, with slender limbs, and dark, wrinkled skin all over, like a somewhat ugly-cute Little Imp from a magic movie. This should be the Baba Bon Tribe.
But what made Shirley gasp wasn’t the Baba Bon tribe member himself, but his current state. At that moment, the Baba Bon was leaning against the wall, his arms raised high as if refusing something, his long ears drooping weakly, his warm clothes in disarray, and his face full of terror. And in this state, he was now sealed in a block of ice.
Shirley raised the torch to illuminate more, revealing the appearances of more Baba Bon tribe members. A second, a third—there were no less than ten Baba Bon frozen in this room. Some held crude spears ready to thrust, some cowered in corners shivering, some had taken steps to flee toward the cave exit. As if time had stopped, each one was frozen in their last action, then sealed in ice.
“Gulp.” Cecilia swallowed hard and instinctively stepped back. This scene was too shocking for Cecilia. But her arm accidentally brushed against a Baba Bon covered in thin ice in the corner. Under Cecilia’s small strength, that arm broke off easily like frozen malt candy.
The half arm fell to the ground, shattering into fragments of ice and flesh. Cecilia, catching this in her peripheral vision, felt a surge in her stomach and immediately started dry heaving.
Lita didn’t speak, just reached out and pulled Cecilia into her arms, gently patting her back.
Rosalia silently drew her twisted longsword, her eyes scanning every shadow in the room like a wolf hunting for prey.
The Baba Bon tribe had been attacked, and clearly caught off guard. Their lives had ended before they could resist.
“Let’s go look further inside.” Shirley’s voice was no longer so lively.
The group continued through a maze of rooms and corridors connecting different places, heading deeper. But the scenes that followed were just endless repetition, even more shocking. Corpses and ice sculptures seemed infinite. After a while, they could all be certain: no living thing remained in this cave. The unknown attackers had cleaned up very thoroughly.
Realizing this, deathly silence swallowed everything. Only the suppressed breathing of the group and the slight crunch of boots on frost could be heard. The excessive silence was more frightening than any sound of danger descending.
After a long silence, Rosalia suddenly gave a simple command: “Go.”
Lita asked quietly: “Don’t we need to investigate?”
“I have a bad feeling. Hurry up.” Rosalia didn’t seem inclined to explain, and took the lead toward the cave exit. Brownie followed closely. Even though Lita didn’t understand, feeling Cecilia’s slight trembling in her arms and looking at their backs, she seemed to have no other choice.
The group walked out quickly, much faster than when they entered. Including the time inside the cave, it had only been less than half an hour. But in that half hour, the sky outside had turned gray.
“Why did the weather suddenly get so bad?” Shirley scratched her head in confusion, but still started to untie her horse.
“Yeah, how did it become like this in just a moment?” Lita said, looking at the gray sky already lowering in the distance.
Gray clouds were slowly pressing toward the ground. The sunlight that had been reflected by snow particles had somehow become murky. The most obvious change was that the surrounding visibility had become blurry; the endless snowfield that Lita had seen when arriving was no longer visible.
Rosalia urged: “Get on your horses quickly. I have a bad feeling.” Her tone sounded anxious. Rosalia had said it twice; it seemed the premonition was indeed ominous. Lita didn’t waste words; she lifted Cecilia onto the horse and leaped up herself.
But the wind had already started blowing. The wind carrying snow dust sounded like intermittent neighing, quickly turning into a continuous low roar that made one’s heart pound. On the distant horizon, an invisible veil was slowly approaching.
“Sister, with a blizzard coming, wouldn’t it be best to go back into the cave to take shelter? Riding like this is too dangerous.” Cecilia looked into the distance and whispered.
“That’s not a blizzard. It’s the White Frost.” Rosalia’s face was as dark as if it would drip water. “It’s the Wild Hunt. They’re here.”