Landlord in the Arctic

The sparks formed an incredibly lifelike image, a seeming miracle from the heavens that filled their hearts with awe.

Chief Welta and the Inuit chiefs, who had been watching coldly from the sidelines, now shed their previous indifference and disdain, their faces also etched with shock.

In their eyes, besides surprise, there was also a faint hint of envy and a trace of contemplation.

They had thought it was just an ordinary Christmas party, but they never expected such a magical scene to unfold. This gave them a newfound respect and curiosity for the Bear Tribe's Guardian Spirit.

The entire area fell silent, leaving only the crackling of the firewood burning in the bonfire.

Chief Robert of the Kaktovik Tribe had seen this scene before.

Memories came flooding back to him.

It was during the whale offering by the sea, and Feng Shan had also been a part of it.

That was the time he had caused the ancestral spirits to appear, guiding a lost pod of whales in the Ice Sea back to Kaktovik.

The magical scene was still vivid in his mind, convincing Chief Robert of the sanctity of the moment before him.

"A miracle! A miracle! The spirits of all things have appeared!" Chief Robert's voice trembled with excitement. He dropped to his knees with a thud, placing his hands reverently on the grass, his eyes filled with awe.

As the bear pattern formed by the sparks glittered in the night sky, a solemn and dignified atmosphere enveloped the entire area.

Just then, Feng Shan, still lost in the dance, his face flushed red from the alcohol, shouted loudly, his words slurred.

"Dance! Where are the drums? Where's the wine?"

These words instantly snapped the Bear Tribe's chief, Bear's Fang, out of his daze. A flash of panic crossed his eyes before he quickly regained his composure.

He immediately turned his head and roared at the tribesmen on the drums.

"Quick, beat the drums! Don't let the drumming stop! Zicao, bring Khilla some wine!"

DUM DUM DUM DUM!!

As if waking from a dream, the drummers hurriedly picked up their drumsticks again and beat the drumheads with all their might.

The DUM DUM DUM of the drums rang out once more, and Zicao quickly ran toward Feng Shan, hastily carrying a bottle of high-proof vodka.

With a determined look in his eyes, Bear's Fang swiftly led the remaining tribespeople to follow Feng Shan's rhythm and resume dancing.

However, in stark contrast to the joyful, festive atmosphere from before, this dance seemed to have taken on a mysterious and solemn quality, more like an ancient, sacred ritual.

Every movement was tinged with a hint of reverence, and every turn seemed to be a form of communication with the spirits of all things.

Xiaohua, Hu Zi, and Black Hide exchanged bewildered glances, their faces blank and their eyes full of confusion.

They seemed to be silently asking each other.

'Should we keep dancing or not?'

'Something about this feels a little off!'

But there was another group of people, a carefree bunch who paid no mind to this mystical event.

These were the crewmen, who had just finished their strong liquor.

These men, who spent their years battling the wind and waves of the Bering Sea and scrapping for their livelihood, had grown exceptionally bold under the influence of alcohol.

After drinking, they felt as if they were omnipotent, even daring to claim they were God himself.

From their perspective, why would they care about the suddenly mystical atmosphere?

'Who cares? Just follow the boss and dance!'

And so, the crewmen continued to dance and flail their arms, drunken smiles on their faces. Though their steps were a bit unsteady, it didn't stop them from dancing with abandon.

At this moment, Feng Shan's eyes were hazy with drunkenness. He took the bottle of vodka from Zicao's hand and, without hesitation, tilted his head back and GULP GULP, chugged the entire thing down to the last drop.

The liquor dribbled from the corners of his mouth, soaking his collar, but he paid it no mind.

Then, he casually tossed the empty bottle into the blazing bonfire. With a sharp BANG, the bottle exploded in the flames, sending sparks flying everywhere.

Immediately after, Feng Shan's steps faltered slightly, but he continued to dance around the bonfire.

As he danced, he repeatedly raised his hands toward the fire and lifted them to the sky, as if communicating with the spirits in the heavens.

Each time he raised his hands, the already roaring flames of the bonfire would surge several meters higher, as if hit by a powerful gust of wind.

The raging flames WHOOSHED toward the night sky, a searing heat washing over everyone.

At the same time, sparks flew into the air and miraculously formed the shape of a lifelike bear once again.

Seeing this, the expressions on the faces of Bear's Fang and the people of the Bear Tribe grew even more devout.

They had originally thought the Iron Brown Bear was just an ancient legend of their Tribal Guardian Spirit, much like the white man's belief in God—more of a spiritual comfort, something distant and unattainable.

But they never imagined that a day would come when they could witness the spirit of the Iron Brown Bear with their own eyes. The sight filled their hearts with shock and gratitude.

"The Bear Tribe is so lucky to see their Tribal Guardian Spirit." Chief Welta stood to the side, a look of pure envy and resentment in his eyes as he couldn't help but remark.

The chiefs of the Inuit Alliance heard him and nodded silently in agreement.

Their eyes were glued to the bear shape formed by the sparks.

Their hearts were filled with longing.

How they wished it was their own tribe dancing around the bonfire at this moment, receiving the favor of their Guardian Spirit.

What a glorious thing it would be if their own tribe could have such a miraculous encounter.

But in the very next moment, after Feng Shan raised both arms high, the blazing bonfire seemed to be infused with an even greater power. The flames surged violently, and a searing heat instantly filled the air.

At the same time, countless sparks danced wildly, like glittering Elves in the night sky, rushing toward the higher heavens.

This time, the shape the sparks formed in midair was not the bear everyone had just seen, but an American Bison.

They could be certain it was an American Bison because the shape formed by the sparks displayed its distinct features.

A massive head, a short muzzle, a short, thick neck, a large front half, and a relatively smaller back half. Only the American Bison possessed such a unique profile.

Seeing this, Chief Welta could no longer remain calm.

When the Bear Tribe's Guardian Spirit had appeared, although he was filled with envy and jealousy, he could still force himself to stand by and watch.

But now that it was the Wild Bull Tribe's Guardian Spirit manifesting, how could he possibly contain his excitement?

The old man eagerly scrambled into the crowd of dancers, completely unconcerned with whether his dance moves were proper or not.

He had only one thought in his mind.

'The only thing that matters is to worship my tribe's Guardian Spirit!'

He clasped his trembling hands together, his eyes fixed on the American Bison formed by the sparks in midair.

He mumbled incessantly, his face full of devotion, as if pouring out his tribe's years of faith and hope to their Guardian Spirit.

The Inuit Tribe chiefs standing to the side all gritted their teeth, their eyes full of resentment and jealousy as they stared at Chief Welta, who was dancing wildly in the crowd with a face full of excitement.

'Old man, you weren't acting like this just a moment ago.'

'We are all children of the spirits, so why the favoritism toward the Indians? Why do their Guardian Spirits appear one after another?'

'The Inuit have Guardian Spirits too!'

Seeing the pattern of sparks change from the Iron Brown Bear to the American Bison, Bear's Fang did not choose to leave.

Instead, he continued to lead his people, dancing alongside Khilla.

At the same time, an indescribable feeling welled up inside him.

He had a faint feeling that it wouldn't just be the Guardian Spirits of the Bear Tribe and the Wild Bull Tribe appearing today; the spirits of the other tribes would most likely manifest in this same magical way.

After circling the bonfire a few more times, Feng Shan raised his hands again.

This time, the pattern formed by the sparks in midair changed again. The image of the bison transformed into a walrus.

The walrus was the Guardian Spirit of Point Laya.

This discovery made Old Pete from Point Laya Village's eyes go wide, his face filled with joyful surprise.

After a moment's stupor, he seemed to shed decades from his age. He burst forth with astonishing vitality, moving with an agility far beyond what a man in his fifties should possess, a speed that rivaled that of a twenty-year-old.

With a WHOOSH, he dashed toward the bonfire, joining the crowd of dancers and letting himself go with the music.

At this point, he couldn't be bothered with any rules or standards of dance.

There was only one thought in his mind.

'Just dance however feels good, and be completely immersed in this moment of dancing with my Guardian Spirit.'

「...」