That grand revelry, filled with blood and fire and worthy of being recorded in history, finally came to an end.
When the dawn light, like the sharpest and coldest razor, once again sliced thru the eternal, leaden-gray canopy of Giant Bear Ridge, the wild and scorching aura of life that had burned fiercely in the nite had already been thoroughly replaced by a heavier, more tedious, and more realistic atmosphere of labor.
The ecstasy of victory, like thin morning mist, gradually faded from the tired yet resolute faces of every warrior.
Upon the grasslands, that "hunting stage" which had once seen countless heart-pounding moments of primitive wildness and iron discipline had now completely transformed into a massive, open-air slaughterhouse filled with the smell of blood and sweat!
The air was thick with a complex scent that had almost materialized. It was the sweetness of fresh blood, the charred aroma of leftover roasted meat, the gaminess of giant beast entrails, and even more so, the sour sweat of countless warriors steaming under the extreme cold, filled with male hormones.
Everything mixed together to form a peculiar scent unique to a "harvest," one that was both exhilarating and nauseating.
Colin had long since removed his white bear-skin cloak, which symbolized supreme power. Like any ordinary warrior, he now wore only a thin set of leather armor, stained so heavily with blood and filth that its original color was unrecognizable. Holding a sharp curved knife specifically for skinning, he methodically taught the warriors under his command, who were also hard at work, the most efficient and least taxing techniques for butchering the giant beasts.
"Look closely! Cut from here! Follow the grain of the muscle! This way, you won't waste effort or ruin the integrity of the pelt!"
His voice was calm and piercing, acting like the most precise and reliable ruler to set an efficient and rational tone for this massive and chaotic "dismemberment project."
Barton and his Boarman Legion became the undisputed main force in this heavy labor!
Their massive bodies, like mobile fortresses, seemed to contain endless and inexhaustible strength! In pairs, they could easily flip and lift a Giant-Horned Ox carcass weighing thousands of catties. Then, the dexterous werewolf warriors, who had been waiting nearby, would use their scalpel-like precision to perform the most delicate and artistic skinning and butchering.
Hask and his werewolf warriors were divided into three groups. One part, led by Hask himself, was responsible for the strictest and most lethal perimeter guard, preventing any blind predators attracted by the blood from trying to get a share. Another part used the freshly skinned pelts—still warm and elastic—and large amounts of wood to build massive, yurt-like temporary warehouses.
The remaining and most important part, under Colin's direct supervision, began the domestication and organization of the three hundred and fifty-seven live Giant-Horned Oxen and the two thousand live Frost-Horned Deer!
It was a tedious task filled with danger and challenge.
Those giant beasts, having just experienced a life-and-death fright, still had wildness flowing madly in their bones. Their moos and cries of fear and anger rose and fell in a never-ending chorus. From time to time, they would launch desperate, crazed, suicidal charges, attempting to break free from the damned ropes binding them!
However, in the face of absolute strength and absolute patience, all their struggles appeared pale and powerless.
For the next three full days, the expedition was immersed in this heavy, tedious, yet hope-filled labor.
The temporary warehouses were filled with mountain-like piles of cleaned meat that gave off an inviting color. Every piece of meat was carefully distinguished and categorized—hind leg meat suitable for long-term storage was piled in the deepest parts; tenderloin for immediate consumption was placed at the front; and the most precious suet, rich in fat, was carefully wrapped in clean pelts, ready to be taken back to Blackwood Fortress to be rendered into strategic reserves that could sustain them thru the entire winter!
Outside the warehouses, the once-green grasslands were completely covered by countless spread-out pelts. These pelts quickly froze as hard as steel in the cold air, waiting to be transported back to the Wolf God Temple in batches, and then back to Blackwood Fortress for further, more refined tanning and processing.
The captured live beasts finally accepted their tragic fate as "prisoners" after several warriors were injured by their charges. Under the warriors' prodding, they began to learn how to pull the massive sleds made from the skins and bones of their kin.
It was a wilderness tableau filled with irony and cruelty, yet it was incredibly real.
Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, the first and most important transport team officially set off on their return journey!
Lea storm of unknown variables to this camp, which had just achieved a great victory and was filled with hope.