Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 59 - 28 Priest, Navaniel

59: Chapter 28: Priest, Navaniel

59 -28: Priest, Navaniel

Shasta and the Great Eagle ventured deep into the Northern Land.

The extreme weather prevented the Great Eagle from flying at full speed, requiring frequent landings to rest.

Anyone moving in this bitterly cold land would feel the chill and fatigue.

Especially during high-altitude flights, the wind was so strong that the pervasive snow and wind seemed to pierce into the bones, chilling her organs.

The Great Eagle was no different; initially, it could rely on the powerful vitality of the Demon Beast to withstand the harsh cold.

But over time, even it was overwhelmed, and its frozen wings began to waver.

Shasta had to use her spells to provide shelter, slowing the loss of body heat, or else she and the Beast Witch’s favorite pet would freeze to death in the sky—when they fell and hit the ground, their bodies would be no different from corpses.

This approach also exhausted her greatly, forcing her to travel for half a day and rest for another half-day.

By nightfall, Shasta would light a campfire in the snow, warming her cold body, and cuddle with the Great Eagle beside a snow tree to get through the long winter night.

She trekked arduously, and the Great Eagle finally found the coordinates that the Prophetess Witch had mentioned.

Below was just a camp made of animal hides; the Wandong people found it challenging to settle here due to the hostile land, as crops couldn’t be planted.

Shasta guessed this was a Frost Tribe.

She had heard of the legends of the Frost People and, after thoroughly examining the hundred-mile radius, found no other settlements.

If the Prophetess Witch was correct, there was only one possibility.

She had to accept the fact.

The new Witch was a Frost Person.

Shasta had the Great Eagle land in the vicinity of the tribe.

If the Witch were in a human settlement, she would have the Great Eagle hide and then go on alone to find her sister.

Although there was a risk of exposure, there was no other way.

The Witch Forest in the Northern Land lacked sufficiently reliable allies. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

She didn’t know the merchant named Morry very well, barely a cooperative relationship.

Some major merchants provided hiding places for Witches, and Witches helped merchants solve certain special problems.

However, this was a Frost Tribe.

Human caravans couldn’t come here, and she found it difficult to infiltrate.

Shasta didn’t know how this ancient-bloodline clan viewed Witches, but they probably didn’t reject them as humans did.

Her landing immediately caught the attention of the Frost People.

The size of the Beast Witch’s Great Eagle was too exaggerated; it landed like a small tornado, then remained motionless, squatting in the snow with its wings tightly folded, shivering like a hen brooding an egg in the cold.

Shasta jumped from its back, reversing the grip on her short sword in her sleeve, and walked toward the Frost People.

The Frost People claimed to be descendants of giants; most wrapped in animal hides, tall in stature, with pale hair, muscles like jagged white rocks, sharp noses, deep-set eyes, and deep blue pupils, their features carved like stone statues.

Shasta stood tall at one meter seventy, yet she was dwarfed by these massive figures, only reaching chest height, forcing her to look up to face them.

“I am Shasta,” she introduced herself.

Over ten Frost People surrounded her, and Shasta keenly noticed their formation was peculiar, as if they viewed her as some prey, cutting off all her retreat.

The rest of the Frost People gazed with great curiosity at the Beast Witch’s Great Eagle.

Frost People lived by hunting but held a unique respect for beasts.

Some believed from unconfirmed rumors that Frost People were actually descendants of some kind of beast.

Shasta remained calm.

She was confident that even if all the Frost People attacked her, the Great Eagle could ensure her safety, though the Frost People would suffer heavy casualties.

However, unless necessary, she hoped things wouldn’t escalate to that point.

She listened to the Frost People speak in a language she didn’t understand, ancient, primitive, difficult, and obscure, long forgotten by the Human Clan.

Shasta silently awaited someone with whom she could communicate.

Soon, a taller man walked over from the camp.

Ordinary Frost People were about two meters one or two, but this Frost Person was about two meters forty-five, exceptionally tall and burly, with some kind of beast blood mixed with dye smeared in an ice crystal pattern on his forehead, like an ancient emblem, exuding a savage aura.

He spoke the human language and asked, “What are humans doing here?”

Shasta replied, “I am here to find my sister.”

“We are the ‘Ice Split’ tribe.

All here are Frost People; no one is your sister.”

Shasta simply repeated, “I am the Witch Shasta, here to find my sister.”

The towering, jagged Frost Person exclaimed joyfully, “Friend, it turns out you are a spellcaster, no wonder you can command such a giant Flying Beast.

Great to meet you.

But you shouldn’t regard Valia as your kin; that’s too absurd.

She is the daughter of the Grandfather…”

Upon hearing this name, Shasta realized Valia was likely the newly awakened Witch.

She interrupted the Frost Person’s words, stating directly, “We are not the only ones aware of this new power; the Church is also on its way.

You best migrate soon.”

“Friend, what is the Church?

Some believer among you humans?

If so, that’s even better, as they should understand Valia’s status among us Frost People—if their god descends the miracle…”

Shasta frowned slightly; perhaps because she was a Witch, the Frost People weren’t as difficult to communicate with as imagined, instead friendly, enthusiastic, and quite talkative.

But he said things she didn’t understand, which made her somewhat anxious.

“Who are you?”

“I am Navaniel, priest of the Ice Split Tribe.”

Shasta knew that priests were the highest leaders among the Frost Tribes.

They could hear the voice of the earth, guiding the tribe to avoid extreme cold and snowstorms, migrating at intervals under certain will.

She emphasized, “The Church will soon arrive, and they will kill all Witches and those associated with them!”

Navaniel exclaimed in shock, “You are natural spellcasters.

Why would your own kind harm you?”

Shasta opened her mouth, unable to explain.

Perhaps humans did not see them as kin, Shasta thought.

She couldn’t express it, only feeling sad, and quietly asked, “Where is Valia?”

Navaniel laughed loudly, “Do you wish to take her away?

That’s impossible.

She is deeply cherished by the Grandfather, and Valia won’t leave this land.”

His expression was firm.

Shasta shook her head, “No, Valia must leave, and you too, or you will perish.”

The Frost People depended on hunting and gathering; this harsh land was unsuitable for fragile crops.

Yet many wild beasts and plants managed to survive, their vitality exceptionally resilient.

In summer, they exerted every effort to grow, and by winter, they drew nutrients from beneath the ice using sturdy roots.

Frost People could survive anywhere, a talent that made the Wandong people envious, creating distinct boundaries between the two races.

Navaniel felt baffled.

Living on this land for decades, having dealt with humans, he never thought a human spellcaster would stand in front of him uttering such alarming words.

Since leaving the Extreme North Icefield, the Frost People had survived on this land called the Northern Land by humans for over a century, with the spirit of the Grandfather hidden deep in the earth guiding their way forward.

All Frost People knew they must eventually return, waging back into the Extreme North Icefield.

The non-humans there were their true enemies, ancient foes through generations.

Frost People’s bloodline carried the lineage of Frost Giants, inherently resistant to cold, able to operate freely at minus thirty or forty degrees without freezing their extremities.

Cold environments actually aided their survival.

Navaniel, over seventy years old, was amiable and quite senior.

He discerned that Shasta was not threatening the Frost People but offering a well-intentioned warning.

Perhaps the young spellcaster acquired some intelligence from places unknown to him, or maybe her ignorance about the Frost People led to her actions.

Navaniel found it somewhat amusing.