Chapter 918: Lynns Love Luck and an Unexpected Visitor |
Lynn's finger paused as it traced over his robe.
The golden woman beside him leaned against him, her face slightly turned, her delicate head resting softly on his shoulder. A gentle fragrance silently enveloped him, stirring his heart and making his body warm with just a whiff.
However, amidst the intense scent of spices and ointments, Lynn could unmistakably detect the chilling aura of death.
"Nielda, I've decided. I don't need your protection." He suppressed his racing heart, extended his left hand with the silver chain, and pushed the woman away:
"I am a necromancer, not the undead. I appreciate your intentions, but I would rather lie on the altar and have my throat slit by your stone knife than be with you forever!"
"Why!"
Nielda's face changed drastically.
The face, covered in gold powder and runes, looked mysterious and beautiful in the firelight. Suddenly, a greenish-black glow emanated from it. Her smooth, long hair lifted high, the ends swelling and emitting a faint snake-like hiss.
The priestess trembled all over, instinctively raising her hand, but at the last moment, it fell before touching Lynn:
"That's a companion... not a lover..." Lynn's weak defense was drowned in the priestess's angry questioning:
"Who would want to marry their skeleton..."
Nielda stormed out, leaving Lynn silently sitting in the stone cell, sighing sadly:
He shouldn't have thought that reaching level 9 meant he was strong enough. Hearing there were unusual undead here, he came to investigate. Now, he had seen the undead, and he couldn't leave...
Indeed, many mages are often killed by their curiosity. The words of the predecessors should not be ignored!
"Sorry, it looks like you'll have to face this with me..."
Lynn stroked his space bag, muttering to himself. With the priestess's care, his space bag wasn't confiscated, only sealed. From that time, the golden skeleton had been in a deep sleep.
Fortunately, he had already let Mr. Troka go. Hopefully, it had run far away, to a safe place, never to look back. Living a healthy, strong life as a happy magical beast...
Lynn slowly lowered his head. Soon, he lifted his hand again, his fingertips tracing over his robe:
Of the runes he saw on the edge of the spirit carriage during the ritual, 35 were still unparsed. Although his spellcasting ability was sealed, his thinking and calculation abilities remained!
What a pity, that transparent skull. If only he could touch it once...
Garrett had no idea that Lynn, trapped, had encountered such a strange love affair. At this moment, he and his team were setting up camp in the wilderness, preparing for the night.
Cirilla expertly set up the wizard's hut, then pulled out a bunch of pots and pans from her space bag. Bernard automatically went to gather firewood, preparing to cook, and Appa was stamping the ice surface of a stream with his hooves, trying to make a hole for water.
As for Garrett, after looking around, he found the thickest, oldest tree, leaned against it with his black cat, and closed his eyes slightly, clearly entering a meditative state.
Baronsimo looked around. His teammates seemed to be experienced in wild traveling. The campsite was chosen on a hillside's wind-sheltered side, slightly elevated with flat, solid ground, at a suitable distance from the stream, not blocking any wildlife paths.
The gathered firewood, though covered with a thin layer of snow, was dry underneath once shaken off. The hardwood was set in a triangular formation, covered with pine twigs, and topped with a layer of dry branches.
A ring of alert magic was set around, with elemental energy drawing fine threads, each adorned with semi-transparent bells that would ring if touched...
It seemed that even without him, his teammates could manage quite well.
Then what's his role here? Guiding? They walk straight; negotiating? No one to meet in the wild; camping? They handle it themselves...
No way!
He had to show his value!
With equipment and pay secured, he had to prove he was worth the compensation, not just a paycheck thief!
He meticulously inspected the surroundings. In the snow, no suspicious footprints;
By the bushes, no unusual breaks, no fresh fur or droppings;
On the tree trunks, no scratches, no claw marks...
Overall, it was a very safe campsite, unlikely to be disturbed in the middle of the night.
Baronsimo returned to the camp, satisfied but somewhat dissatisfied. Upon seeing the center of the camp, he couldn't help but exclaim:
"What are you doing? A stew? Not with such good meat!"
"Good meat needs stewing!" Bernard had already laid down a layer of meat and was adding tubers to the large, deep pot, looking up:
"Relax, my stew is the best!"
"But such good meat, stewing it is a waste..." Baronsimo instinctively argued, then turned to Cirilla:
"Madam, could we make an extra portion? I brought some containers, space bags can store them..."
Cirilla nodded without hesitation. Baronsimo cheerfully pulled out a frying pan, a round pot, a large stone slab, and a black spatula from his space bag. Then he took out a bunch of seasonings, laying them out in a row:
"These are oysters from Walsingham's coast. Locals say last year's oysters were particularly good and fat. These oysters, with a bit of salt, grilled on a rack, the juice will burst out!"
"This is venison from the natives, a bit tough, best with some seasoning. Ah... fresh berries just picked this autumn, wonderful..."
Skillfully, he sliced the venison into thin pieces, mixed several berries together, squeezing them with the mage's hand. Juice trickled down, flowing over the venison:
"This sweet and sour venison steak is my specialty. I'm most familiar with how to pair each berry's flavor from every place!"
"This is wild chicken that grew up eating berries in the forest, now at its plumpest. We clean its belly, stuff it with corn, chestnuts, and mushrooms, then wrap it and bury it by the fire..."
With deft hands, he soon had three or four pots set up by the fire. Bernard, Cirilla, and Appa, who had just returned from drinking water, squatted in a row, sniffing the aroma wafting from the pots.
Just as Cirilla couldn't resist reaching out, the sound of snow crunching and a young man's cheerful shout came from the forest:
"Hey, friends, can you share some with us?"
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