The village chief, well past seventy, shuffled over with a stooped back and trembling steps, sincerely pleading with Su Hao.
In truth, when the commotion outside had suddenly started, he had paid it little mind.
He had merely assumed that some villager had come up with another silly scheme, working together to play the King of Abundance and fool tourists into believing it truly existed.
To supplement Freezington's perpetually insufficient finances, he had always turned a blind eye to such things.
At the same time, despite the many books in his home and the numerous records concerning the King of Abundance,
the old village chief still believed deep down that the King of Abundance was a fictional being invented by their ancestors.
The King of Abundance was nothing more than a spiritual pillar their ancestors had imagined to help themselves endure this barren, bitterly cold land.
But as the noise outside intensified, when he saw the dignified young man seated atop that imposing white horse,
he suddenly felt that the legend of the King of Abundance might not have been baseless after all.
But regardless of what he thought, it was best to first appease this young man, who was likely connected to the King of Abundance—or perhaps was the King of Abundance himself.
Sure enough, upon hearing the village chief's request, Su Hao patted Glastrier's neck, signaling that it had done enough.
He still had to learn how to make a Bonding Stirrup by hand later. It would be troublesome if things turned hostile.
Glastrier snorted. Seeing that this newly appeared old man was at least respectful toward the King's title, it stopped releasing its cold air.
Su Hao then swung down from its back, told Glastrier to wait outside, and walked directly into Freezington over the solid ice