145 Traveler in the Blizzard

According to common sense, whenever anything is associated with the soul or spiritual consciousness, its value skyrockets. The underlying reasons are not hard to understand: first, things capable of directly influencing the soul are usually rare treasures born from a combination of various worldly coincidences, and their scarcity naturally makes them precious; second, those with the discerning eye to discover such treasures are, after all, extremely few, which ensures that the value of such items only rises and never falls. As the saying goes, the layman watches the excitement while the expert watches the method. In truth, once you truly step into a path or a discipline, you will discover that many things are not as difficult or as unattainable as previously imagined—therefore, sometimes, direct action is much more important than a comprehensive plan!

— Excerpt from Teresa's Alchemical Notes

Snow was falling in flurries, with vast, thick flakes overlapping to blot out the sky and earth, almost densely covering the entire world. The dark clouds in the sky hung so low they seemed on the verge of merging with the ground. Lifting one's gaze, the entire field of vision was nothing but black and white, monotonous almost to the point of madness.

Yet in such harsh conditions, three figures were laboriously trudging through the snow. Every step seemed to expend all their strength, and the waist-deep snow made even the simplest movement exceedingly arduous. The biting cold was enough to freeze breath instantly. Continuing to advance in such terrible circumstances demonstrated just how urgent the party's journey was.

As they walked, the person in the middle suddenly stopped and gently tugged at the sleeve of the person in front. The leader turned back. Two round heads—both so tightly wrapped that their original appearances were obscured—pressed together. After shouting a few monosyllabic words to one another, communication was finally established.

This brief exchange evidently had a certain impact on their journey. The guide, who had been marching straight ahead, suddenly altered his course, stopped at a particular snowdrift, and then forcefully pulled a folding shovel from his bulging backpack, vigorously digging into the ground. Such an action in the snowy wilderness was practically a form of suicide! After all, when marching in such a heavy snowstorm, wasting even an ounce of energy might bring them one step closer to the Grim Reaper...

The guide's movements were swift. In less than a minute, the fiercely digging shovel struck an obstacle. He stopped, squatted down, and with his thick, leather-gloved hands, carefully brushed away the snow to reveal the grayish-black rocky ground beneath. At this point, the person in the middle of the group stepped forward and placed something or other on the ground. In an instant, a patch of emerald green rapidly spread across the snow. Within five minutes, a semi-circular, ground-hugging cabin had naturally formed. To think that such a simple three-person team actually included a mid-rank alchemist! This was truly a blessing any adventure party would dream of!

A folk proverb circulated in the Natural Kingdom: "Traveling with an alchemist is like carrying a secure home with you." From this, one could understand just how vital an alchemist was to an adventure party. Although alchemists rarely participated directly in combat, their powerful logistical support was the greatest guarantee for a team to achieve success!

The cabin was built, which naturally meant it was time for rest. The three travelers, who had been struggling in the snow for so long and were thoroughly exhausted, could finally take a proper break—

"This damned ghost of a weather," someone complained impatiently the moment they stepped inside, even before the cabin's temperature control system could be activated, while hurriedly shedding heavy gear. "Dressed in an outfit like this, even the most agile swallow would turn into a clumsy brown bear!"

"If you really turn into a bear, you'd definitely be the cutest one," Teresa said with a beaming smile as she turned on the indoor climate control system, teasing Flora, who kept complaining.

"Hmph, no matter how cute, it's still a clumsy bear!" Flora, having finally stripped off her bulky winter gear, could not endure the temperature, which had not yet risen. She scurried around the room to keep warm through movement, chattering her teeth while complaining about the sluggish heating speed.

Habata, who entered last, had also shed his gear, but he was not as frail as Flora, instead displaying a super-strong tolerance for low temperatures. With absolute composure, he began to inspect every corner of the cabin to ensure its safety.

Seeing this, Teresa chuckled inwardly, which saved her the trouble of setting up a protective array. She began pulling things out from inside her coat one by one—pulling what?

First, she pulled out two warm "golden balls" that still carried her body heat. As soon as they touched the air, the "golden balls" went "pop, pop" and transformed back into the shapes of a small hawk and a small wolf.

Next, she pulled out two balls of fur curled up tightly and shivering incessantly—with their fiery red fur, they were undoubtedly two little demon foxes.

Third, she pulled out simple cooking utensils and began leisurely preparing their belated lunch.

By the time Flora finally regained her usual agility and Habata completed all his inspections, the hot soup Teresa had prepared was already boiling, just in time to dispel the cold for everyone.

Sipping the hot soup, the three had a cordial discussion about their recent journey. Teresa unfolded a map on the ground and asked, "Habata, how much further are we from the Black Rock Mountains?"

"At least ten days," Habata replied directly without even glancing at the map. "Further ahead, the road is even harder to walk, and with the weather this bad, I cannot give a precise answer."

Hearing this, Teresa clicked her tongue and said no more. Their destination was the Black Rock Mountains of the Orc Alliance. It was one of the harshest environments in the Alliance, but also a treasure trove hiding astonishing wealth. The "Nightmare Grass" Teresa was targeting happened to grow in this barren and treacherous place.

Although Nightmare Grass differed from the Nightmare Flower by only one word, their values were worlds apart; in fact, they were entirely two different species. The reason they shared such a similar name was due to their similar function—nourishing the spiritual consciousness! It was just that in terms of functional strength, the former fell far short of the latter. Similarly, in terms of rarity, the former was also far inferior to the latter.

This was why Teresa had chosen Nightmare Grass as her target for this trip: it could nourish spiritual consciousness, and more importantly, it was currently the only thing she had a chance of acquiring that possessed this property.

Nightmare Grass only grew in the Black Rock Mountains of the Orc Alliance, which was why Teresa had sought Habata's advice. And it was precisely because of her consultation that this journey transformed from a solo adventure into a three-person team expedition of "Teresa, Flora, and Habata." For the sake of this adventure, Flora and Habata had even specially adjusted their class schedules, a decisive act that deeply moved Teresa.

A friend in need is a friend indeed. Although she had not yet reached a state of true adversity, the bold and loyal actions of Flora and Habata were already enough to demonstrate their fine character. (To be continued)