Ch.126Chapter 126

One can’t burden the tribe with personal family matters.

Voltorn glared at Gulmarg for a long time before shouting at his warriors.

“Ahem! Everyone’s worked hard. I have personal matters to attend to, so divide the spoils and disperse!”

“Chief! Angrid is getting to marriageable age, so stop holding her back!”

“He looks handsome and seems like a good fighter, Chief, really…”

The chief must not have been particularly authoritarian, as the warriors responded to Voltorn’s orders with teasing laughter.

However, warriors with children, especially female warriors, were sincerely advising Voltorn.

How often do parents who stand in the way of their daughter’s marriage fare well?

“I’ll handle my daughter’s affairs myself. That’s enough—go meet your families.”

“Well… alright. Fine.”

When Voltorn frowned and waved his hand as if telling them to disappear, the warriors left, offering words of encouragement to Angrid and Gulmarg.

They clearly anticipated that persuading Voltorn wouldn’t be easy.

One female warrior passed by Gulmarg with a sly expression while carrying an armored spider on her back, giving him a wink.

“If I were ten years younger, I’d have been interested. If you get rejected, come find me~ I’m married, but my daughters would like you.”

She patted Gulmarg’s shoulder and pointed to her daughters. They were all female warriors with sturdy builds and warrior-like appearances.

With their mother’s support, they attempted to seduce(?) Gulmarg by revealing their barely-covered bodies with expressions like hungry lionesses.

At this shameless display, Angrid shouted with a face full of betrayal.

“Aunt Larisa!!!”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m only saying if you reject him. If you catch him properly, that’s the end of it, right?”

Larisa calmly deflected Angrid’s anger. Since she wasn’t wrong, Angrid couldn’t argue back and just ground her teeth.

After she and her daughters left, Voltorn dismounted from his mammoth and approached Gulmarg. His sons followed behind, creating quite an intimidating presence.

Voltorn silently glared at Gulmarg with a displeased expression. Dario, worried that a fight might break out, whispered to Wendigo.

“Is this going to turn into a bloodbath instead of a wedding?”

“Why don’t you try mediating then?”

“Do you want to see a young loyal servant cut in half? He looks like he wants to slice Gulmarg in two right now—there’s no way he’d listen to reason.”

Dario shook his head in horror at Wendigo’s suggestion. Someone who drew his weapon just because someone proposed to his daughter was unlikely to be reasoned with.

Words of persuasion are only useful when there’s willingness to listen in the first place.

Voltorn, who looked ready to swing his axe in a rampage at any moment, gritted his teeth and finally spoke.

“…Gulmarg, was it? Follow me for now.”

“Father!”

“Enough! Even if I don’t like him, he’s still a guest. We should at least treat him as one!”

When his children voiced their complaints, Voltorn stomped the ground with his hoe handle and shouted.

He was displeased that some nobody had the audacity to propose to his precious youngest daughter without even knowing her, but the Hrimtur never mistreated guests.

As Voltorn headed toward his tent without looking back, his children had no choice but to disperse to their own tents.

They didn’t forget to glare at Gulmarg as they passed by, making it clear that Angrid was truly a beloved daughter in her family.

Gulmarg followed his (potential) father-in-law with confident steps, as if such glares didn’t intimidate him at all.

* * *

Voltorn’s tent was a massive structure made of mammoth hide, befitting his status as chief.

Though called a tent, it was so spacious by human standards that five or six families could live together comfortably.

Wendigo admired the tent’s pillars, puzzled by their white color. Upon closer inspection, he realized they were animal bones.

With bones this massive, only one creature came to mind.

“Not wood, but mammoth bones. Indeed, it would be difficult to erect such a large tent using wood.”

“Except for some craftsmen, the Hrimtur depend entirely on hunting for food, clothing, and shelter. I hear there aren’t many like us in the south.”

Having just returned from a long hunting trip, Voltorn’s voice was as comfortable as that of a generous countryside elder.

As he said, most items in the tent represented Voltorn’s life and achievements. The mammoth bone pillars carved with patterns were just the beginning.

A rug made from the hide of a massive saber-toothed tiger, a dagger carved from mammoth ivory, a blanket made of bear fur…

‘Truly a tribe where hunting is daily life.’

Living in the frozen lands, agriculture was nearly impossible for them.

Naturally, for survival, they had no choice but to develop a hunting-based culture.

“No wonder Angrid and all the Hrimtur warriors look like legendary heroes.”

Wendigo expressed genuine respect for Hrimtur culture.

Apart from their natural physique, this land was essentially a block of ice, yet they had built their own culture and overcome nature.

“Hahaha! I thought you were extraordinary from the moment I saw you. Even now, I can’t sense your presence… I definitely wouldn’t want to meet you on the battlefield.”

Voltorn laughed heartily at Wendigo’s compliment, clearly pleased.

A warrior of Wendigo’s caliber had no reason to flatter, so his praise could be trusted as honest appreciation.

Thanks to Wendigo, the atmosphere became somewhat friendlier, giving Angrid a glimmer of hope.

Perhaps getting approval for the marriage would be easier than expected?

“Everyone, please have some tea while we talk.”

Just then, Voltorn’s wife brought in tea.

She was an elegant beauty with attractive narrow eyes, but the scars on her arms and legs proved she hadn’t become the chief’s wife for nothing.

Voltorn habitually pulled his wife by the waist and nuzzled his head against her stomach to show affection…

Embarrassed to display such affection toward his partner while opposing his daughter’s marriage, he cleared his throat and raised his cup.

“Ahem, everyone, don’t be shy and drink up. My wife’s tea is truly the best.”

“……”

Wendigo stared at the cup he had received.

Strangely, the tea brewed by Voltorn’s wife had… pieces of meat floating in it instead of tea leaves.

Could this really be called tea when it contained meat?

Wendigo cautiously tilted his cup.

‘…I’d better think of this as a bland beef broth.’

It had a rich flavor that made calling it “tea” seem ridiculous. Apparently, the Hrimtur referred to bone broth as “tea” because it was bland.

While others had similar thoughts, Gulmarg emptied his cup heartily and bowed his head to Voltorn’s wife in gratitude.

“Angrid’s mother, your skill is remarkable. The reason she handles chains so well must be because she takes after you.”

“My, my! Our daughter said she was engaged to an ogre, and indeed, you have such a silver tongue!”

“Engaged? What nonsense… I have no intention of allowing it!”

Typically, when marriage discussions arise, mothers get excited while fathers become grumpy.

When his wife spoke as if the engagement was already settled, Voltorn gulped down his tea and flared up angrily.

Crack!

“Darling…”

“Ang, Angrbo—I mean, that’s not it!”

Voltorn’s wife, Angrboda, was still smiling, but the veins in her neck bulged as she positioned herself behind Voltorn.

Flustered, Voltorn tried to explain himself by calling his wife’s name, but a seasoned warrior never misses an opening.

WHACK!!!

“Last time when men came seeking Angrid’s hand, you found excuses to oppose them too! At this rate, our youngest daughter will die an old maid!”

“It’s not that bad yet… OUCH!”

“What do you mean ‘yet’?! I’ve asked other mothers, and they say their daughters have their eyes on her!”

Angrboda mercilessly struck Voltorn’s back. The sound was as loud and resonant as a drum beaten with full force.

Naturally, Voltorn screamed and tried to calm his wife, but to no avail.

With so many precedents, what could he say?

“Mother, please calm—”

“Leave it. Once Mother gets angry, no one can stop her.”

When Gulmarg anxiously tried to intervene, Angrid stopped him and sat beside him.

She chewed on a piece of meat from her teacup and awkwardly scratched her cheek.

“By the way… why did you confess to me?”

“Why…”

At Angrid’s question, Gulmarg stared at his teacup, recalling when he first discovered her trail.

At that time, he was frantically focused on finding her, having sensed for the first time the scent of someone who stimulated his instincts.

Beyond whether she could be his mate, the very possibility that his match existed in this world stirred his heart.

Tracking her trail, he met Angrid, who wasn’t an ogre, but…

Angrid faced an armored spider larger than herself without losing courage and threw her blade.

Some might think throwing a blade isn’t much, but the creature was bigger and tougher than Angrid, and filled with venom.

Surely Angrid knew she was risking her life.

Nevertheless, she bravely hunted the armored spider, burning with life and proving to the world that she was alive…

“Wait, stop! It’s embarrassing! I understand your feelings, so that’s enough!”

“Angrid, this isn’t embarrassing. It’s something to be proud of.”

“I get it, so please stop!!!”

Listening to Gulmarg’s explanation, Angrid lowered her head and covered her ears, apparently embarrassed that he had fallen for her warrior-like qualities.

Wendigo was bewildered. He had thought Gulmarg’s lack of eloquence might disappoint Angrid, but he hadn’t expected such an intense reaction.

‘…Romance is truly mysterious.’

“Look at that. He’s so smitten with Angrid that he can calmly make such a heartfelt confession.”

“Ahem!”

Unlike Wendigo’s impression, Voltorn and Angrboda seemed quite moved by Gulmarg’s sincerity.

However, they couldn’t entrust their daughter based on words alone.

Voltorn gazed into Gulmarg’s eyes with a more serious attitude than before.

“I acknowledge that you didn’t propose to Angrid with a frivolous mindset.”

“Father-in-law.”

“…I haven’t approved yet, so don’t call me that.”

Voltorn reacted as if “father-in-law” was a curse and pointed at Angrid.

“As you can see, Angrid is more modest than other women.”

“Modest…?”

Dario looked over Angrid’s attire with disbelief.

Angrid wore only leather pants, a chest covering, and a vest.

However, by Hrimtur standards, where people typically walked around wearing only pants, this was considered quite modest.

Gulmarg, who had unintentionally attracted attention from Hrimtur women, had noticed this much. He nodded, and Voltorn continued.

“Angrid has never been in love. She’s so modest that she hasn’t shown interest in men.”

“Oh my. As I recall, you prevented men from approaching Angrid.”

“…Anyway, Angrid’s first man must be extraordinary. He can’t be weaker than my daughter, and I won’t accept someone I don’t approve of.”

“Test me if you wish. Angrid is indeed a woman worth that much.”

Gulmarg spoke confidently without the slightest retreat.

Obtaining a worthy woman required paying a corresponding price.

At least Gulmarg didn’t act like a coward, so Voltorn nodded and rose from his seat.

“Very well. Then first, a duel with my sons—”

“Chief! We have an emergency!!!”

A warrior lifted the tent flap and shouted at this crucial moment.

While nothing was more important to Voltorn as a father than his daughter’s marriage, as a chief, that wasn’t the case.

Voltorn frowned and shouted at the warrior.

“I hope this is more important than my daughter’s marriage. What’s happening?”

“A-armored spiders are swarming toward us! There are more than twenty of them!”

“?”

Voltorn was bewildered by the warrior’s report. They had been hunting armored spiders indiscriminately recently due to increasing numbers…

Where on earth had these twenty been hiding to suddenly appear now?

“…It seems the test will have to wait until after we exterminate them.”

“Angrid. Grab your weapons and go with your husband!”

“H-he’s not my husband yet… but I guess there’s no choice. Follow me!”

When Angrboda threw her the chain blade, Angrid blushed, grabbed Gulmarg’s hand, and ran out.

Voltorn watched them and grabbed the back of his neck.

To think his modest daughter would run off holding hands with a strange man!

“…If he proves unworthy, I’ll make him shed tears of blood.”

“……”

As Voltorn expressed his anger as if swallowing it whole, Wendigo deliberately ignored his muttering.