153 Corpse in the Ice Crevice

A blinding blizzard raged, blotting out the sky. It struck with such ferocious suddenness that it caught everyone completely off guard. Those who were still deep within the Blackrock Mountains attempting to hunt for treasures were howling in misery, for this year's storm had arrived in a most bizarre fashion, leaving all who had entered the mountains utterly unprepared. According to the climatic patterns of previous years, the snow-free period in the Blackrock Mountains typically lasted fifteen to twenty days, granting adventurers ample time to ascend and descend the peaks while scavenging for treasures. This year, however, that window was drastically shortened. Around the twelfth day, a violent blizzard suddenly erupted, its overwhelming fury making forward movement utterly impossible.

Amidst the vast expanse of white, a line of travelers, buried nearly halfway by the wind and snow, forged painfully through the drifts. Battling the howling gale, their progress was arduous. Had they not pressed tightly against the sheer cliff face, a sudden gust might easily have swept them away on the spot. Clinging to the rock with one side of their bodies, they inched forward step by step, every movement exceedingly difficult. Suddenly, the figure at the head of the line stumbled and vanished entirely from the others' sight. The second person in line quickly yanked the thick rope tied around their waist, feeling a responsive tug almost immediately from the other end. Letting out a sigh of relief, they crept forward step by step along the tension of the rope. After moving only a short distance, the fierce wind that had been howling incessantly suddenly vanished, the oppressive pressure lifting in an instant. The abrupt change caught them off guard, and after stumbling a few paces, they finally managed to regain their footing.

It was a narrow fissure, deeply concealed within the mountain wall. Though narrow, it extended far inward. While the wind still raged and snowflakes danced wildly overhead, being shielded from the direct onslaught of the blizzard in such a harsh environment was already a tremendous blessing. The group had no intention of being picky and immediately set up camp for a temporary respite.

Theresa had remained groggy the entire journey, only now feeling a sense of stability. The heavy cloth covering her head was lifted away, and a caring voice sounded from above.

"Theresa, are you alright?"

Theresa shook her head, struggled to stand up from inside the large backpack basket, and eagerly stretched her stiffened body. Throughout the journey, she had been carried entirely on someone's shoulders—the so-called "backpack method" proposed by Li, the Vixen tribesman, which was deemed "a brilliant way to accelerate everyone's pace."

Though Theresa had initially been reluctant to be carried and hauled about like mere cargo—even though it spared her any physical exertion—the sudden turn in the weather after just a few days forced her to adapt to this mode of travel. After all, her delicate constitution could never withstand such a merciless assault of wind and snow.

Emerging from the basket, Theresa was still somewhat dizzy, but the cold snowflakes pelting her from above made her instinctively reach into her spatial ring for the appropriate magic stones. Within the confined space, she erected a magical barrier to block out the wind and snow.

A faint blue radiance quickly rose within the fissure, resembling a grand web that firmly held the howling gale and swirling snow at bay. The beastmen also began clearing away the accumulated snow inside the barrier with practiced coordination, carving out a temporary campsite suitable for resting and lighting a fire.

Under the milky white glow of the magic lamp, everyone went about their duties, busy yet highly organized. As she was tidying up, Theresa suddenly let out a short, sharp gasp, instantly drawing everyone's attention. Flora leaped to her side in a flash.

"It's nothing, just a few frozen adventurers," Flora said, raising her voice to wave away the others who were rushing over.

About a meter in front of Theresa, three grotesque ice sculptures were wedged into the narrow crack that allowed passage for only a single person. The cramped space and suddenness of their deaths had severely distorted their forms and facial expressions. Combined with the chilling illumination of the magic lamp reflecting off the ice, these stacked effects rendered the trio's appearance exceptionally eerie and terrifying.

Flora pulled Theresa behind her for protection, then stepped forward, intending to clear the three frozen corpses out of the way. Unexpectedly, before she had taken more than a few steps, she heard Theresa's low call from behind, "Flora, don't move just yet."

Though puzzled, Flora obediently halted, turned back, and met Theresa's inquiring gaze.

Instead, Theresa strode past Flora, approaching the three ice sculptures first without a trace of the fear she had shown earlier.

"Is something wrong?" Flora asked, following closely behind.

"They died very strangely," Theresa said, wearing protective gloves, holding a small brush in one hand and ice-melting agent in the other, and meticulously clearing the ice off the corpses. Before long, the necks and heads of the three ice figures were exposed.

As the ice melted, the three skulls made initial contact with the air and rapidly decomposed—flesh melted away, hair fell off, black smoke drifted lightly, and dark fluid trickled down. The entire spectacle was profoundly horrifying. Even Flora, who had witnessed all sorts of worldly wonders, could not help but frown slightly in displeasure. Theresa, however, stared with absolute focus and intensity, as if she were examining a fine piece of art rather than such a repulsive scene.

"Discovered anything?" a voice asked from slightly behind and to the side of Theresa, low and carrying a hint of a smile.

"These three bodies must have been dead for quite some years, but they were frozen here, so they remained preserved," Theresa said, paying no heed to who had spoken. While studying the three skeletons unblinkingly, she continued fluently, "Moreover, they must have died from a virulent poison, which is why their forms and facial expressions became so distorted. That is also why, upon the slightest contact with slightly warmer air, they liquefied instantly."

"Ah, deadly poison. That's never a good thing," the voice from earlier chimed in appropriately. "Still, these are matters from several years ago. They shouldn't have any impact on us, right?"

"Wrong!" Theresa replied with a stern expression. She turned her head, intending to elaborate, but was startled by the person who had appeared beside her out of nowhere. Instinctively pulling back, she nearly collided with the rapidly decaying skeletons.

"Careful," Lambert said, reaching out to grasp her shoulder and pulling her back to his side. "You're already an intermediate alchemist. How can you still be so careless?"

"Who told you to sneak around like a ghost?" Theresa glared at him, half-peevishly reproaching, "Don't you know startling people can scare them to death?"

Lambert laughed aloud, offering a thoroughly insincere apology. "Alright, alright, my mistake. I'll be more careful next time—now can you continue with what you were saying?"

Returning to serious business, Theresa immediately turned solemn. "I examined the integrity of the ice layer nearby and found no traces of disruption. That means since these people died, nothing has changed here. Judging by the manner of their deaths, the poison they ingested must have acted instantly. Even if the three of them possessed some miraculous toxin-resistance method, they couldn't have lasted long!"

At these words, Lambert's smiling expression gradually faded. He raised an eyebrow and said, "By your logic, the source of that poison isn't far from us?"

"Yes, not far... or perhaps, very close indeed!" Theresa nodded solemnly.