On Fenris, whenever deep winter arrived, strangers would suddenly appear at night on the snow-covered islands.
They would offer a little alcohol or food as prizes and compete against the strongest warriors of the island's Horde in races, drinking contests, arm wrestling, wrestling, and more.
As long as you believed you had any particular talent for combat, even if it was diving or winter swimming, you could put it to the test.
These strangers had terrifying appearances—tall and strong, with eyes that glowed in the night like burning flames. Every one of them wore the pelts of Fenrisian Wolves, and their mere appearance was enough to frighten any mortal.
Yet their demeanor was fair and solemn. They never fraternized with the islanders, nor did they act superior. Only when blood was shed during a contest would they burst into laughter.
But laughter aside, whenever challenged, these strangers would defeat the warriors at whatever they excelled in.
Once they had competed with every challenger in the Horde, they would hand out their pitiful prizes, then choose the most outstanding one or several people from the Horde and vanish with them into the darkness.
They truly vanished. Legend had it that they would go to the shore, board a strange-looking longship, then shoot off toward the realm of the gods.
This was the divine selection ritual passed down among every tribe. People would not grieve over the departure of their loved ones, because being chosen meant that a Divine Emissary had recognized their relative's valor. It was the highest honor.
Being taken away meant going to enjoy life in the dwelling place of the gods. It was something worth celebrating.
And if, after the contests, not a single person from the entire Horde was chosen, everyone would feel humiliated and sorrowful. Once