Like an avalanche that covers the sky and the sun, when it pours down, no one at the foot of the mountain can escape, and no snowflake is innocent.
And he, Mark, is at the foot of the mountain right now!
He can't gamble!
Mark's thoughts raced, and his eyes instantly became as cold and sharp as frozen rock. The feeling of weakness from recovering his strength just now was dispelled by a stronger willpower.
Torge's words had no effect on him. He clenched his fists silently, feeling his numb knuckles regain strength.
He is determined to wade into this muddy water!
Not only for the possible Enzo, but also for Mark himself and all the people he cares about to prevent them from being caught up in this unknown and heart-wrenching vortex of disaster!
“Hmm…”
Xiao Mu in his arms seemed to sense his master's instantly tense determination and made an extremely subtle but firm humming sound.
Mark's gaze passed over the silent figures of the dwarves as silent as ice sculptures in the light of the campfire, and stared at the star debris barrier that emitted a faint light and blocked all detection.
The target is right behind it.
I just don't know if the mysterious existence is watching him, a devout believer, this time.
In the rift valley, you don’t know when it’s day or night.
It was not until the dwarves entered the house and dug out potatoes, sweet potatoes and other things that Mark realized it was already evening.
The frozen potato cubes that Torge handed over were like lumps of ice, exuding a stale and monotonous smell.
"Thanks, you guys can keep it for yourselves."
Mark flatly refused the dwarf's frozen potatoes.
These dwarves, whose bodies are slowly being eroded by the power of the star remains, need heat.
Of course, on the other hand, he has better options.
The space ring flashed slightly, and a portable stove fell steadily to the ground.
Then, several pieces of cut bison back meat from the Monster Mountain Range, a basin of clear melt water, a few shriveled but fragrant red peppers from the Lily Kingdom, a small bottle of solidified red chili oil, and dried mushrooms wrapped in small cloth bags were taken out one by one.
None of the Deepfurnace dwarves paid any attention to Mark who was busy working alone in the camp, maintaining a suffocating silence.
They huddled in animal skins and tattered felt blankets, most of them with their heads lowered, their exposed star-blue ice-crystal skin glowing with a dead glow under the firelight and starlight.
Only a few of them turned their cloudy eyes and scanned Mark's movements with calm gazes, as if they saw a rock moving, and then lost focus.
Years of erosion and despair have sharpened their perceptions into an abyss covered in thick ice.
Mark ignited the flint under the stove, and the blue flame licked the bottom of the iron pot.
Deep in the cold cave, steam began to fill.
He placed the cold beef ribs on a simple cutting board.
The thawed beef has clear texture and is extremely tender.
Although beef tenderloin is pure lean meat, no one can deny that tenderloin is the most tender and smooth lean meat.
Mark pulled out his custom kitchen knife and slashed it down with a steady stroke of his wrist.
The blade cut into the perfectly frozen meat without much resistance. The slices of meat were as thin as a cicada's wing and almost translucent. The meat flowers showed an attractive pink and white color under the interweaving of blue light and firelight.
Each piece of meat fell onto a small ice tray that had just been dug out from the ice wall of an ordinary canyon nearby, making a slight and pleasant clicking sound.
At almost the same time, Mark's exclusive chef profession "Soul Harmonizer" quietly started to work.
This was not a deliberate spell, but a natural fluctuation that came with his most subtle handling of the ingredients.
The "tapping" sound of the slices of meat and the slight vibration of the meat slices scattered on the ice plate spread out like invisible ripples, stirring the air in the cave filled with numbness and icy coldness very faintly.
The nearest dwarf warrior, who was curled up, curled up his fingers, which were covered with star-blue ice shells, almost imperceptibly, and then quickly returned to deathly silence.
Mark put some dried mushrooms soaked in warm water and pure snow water into a pot. The clear snow water met the hot pot wall, emitting hissing white steam.
In the other half of the pot, the solidified red chili oil began to soften under continuous heating, and the dark red oil became bright again. The strong and spicy aroma was like an awakened beast, suddenly breaking free from the shackles of oil and rising up!
This overbearing, fresh and spicy molecule, like an invisible shock wave, instantly penetrated the stagnant air and hit the nasal mucosa of all the dwarves.
The long-lost sense of stimulation that belonged to the instinct of life violently awakened their almost frozen taste memories and physiological reactions.
A younger dwarf in the corner suddenly shook his body, and his head, which had been hanging low, slightly raised up. His cloudy pupils under the shadow of his hood subconsciously contracted.
His nostrils, which were covered with tiny ice crystals, twitched slightly twice uncontrollably.
After the spiciness has subsided, water is boiled in another pot, and the dried mushrooms added are stretched out by the heat and the soaking of snow water.
All the essence of the sun and the moon locked deep in the shriveled body is soaked into the soup, and an extremely mellow and fresh fungal fragrance with the fresh scent of the deep earth and forest spreads.
It is warm and mellow, like a trickle of warm water, forming a wonderful balance with the violent red oil.
The warm and mellow scent of mushrooms softly seeped into the cold and frozen space, like an invisible warm hand gently brushing across the dwarves' frozen defenses.
Mark seemed unaware of this and focused on processing the ingredients.
He casually chopped up the remaining beef spine and threw some radishes and meat pieces into the mushroom soup pot.
The spinal cord in the spine sank into the cool soup and rolled with the stretching fungi.
The fat quickly condenses into crystal-clear dots on the soup surface. The extremely simple yet extremely tempting rich aroma of fresh meat rises with the heat and blends with the fresh fragrance.
The simplest and most basic meaty aroma of this primitive food, carrying the heat from the source of life, can reach the instinctive desires in the forgotten corners deep in the soul.
The clear and uncontrollable sound of swallowing saliva could be heard in the cave!
More than one!
The corner, which was originally as quiet as an ice sculpture, emitted an inaudible but continuous "gurgling" sound.
Sitting next to the old patriarch Torge, Kruger, the most burly warrior with half of his face covered in thick star-blue ice armor, had his Adam's apple rolling up and down violently, as if trying to break free from the heavy ice shell.
Mark picked up a pair of long wooden chopsticks he brought with him, picked up a piece of pork tenderloin as thin as a cicada's wing, and put it into the bubbling pot of red oil soup.
The scalding hot soup quickly changes the color of the thin slices of meat, causing them to curl up and become coated in bright red oil.
In just three seconds, the meat slices were cooked to perfection, with slightly curled edges and a tender center.
Mark fished it out, held it in front of his eyes to check its doneness, and casually put it on the ice tray next to him.
The meat slices wrapped in red oil are trembling, exuding a hot and spicy meaty aroma that is deadly and tempting.
This simple act of showing the food at its best became the last straw that broke the camel's back.
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