The rope ladder was fashioned from a common vine, strong enough to bear the weight of three men, but judging by its appearance, it had hung there for years, looking utterly decayed. The moment Fang Senyan grasped it, dust rained down in fine showers, compelling him to climb with meticulous care, as if treading on thin ice. Fortunately, the ascent concluded without incident, and he reached the summit safely.

Having scaled the cliff face, they found themselves in a valley still framed by sheer precipices hundreds of feet high. Sparse pine forests continued to populate the valley floor. Dawn had fully broken, yet both men felt a distinct, perhaps psychosomatic, dizziness, their hearts gripped by panic. Daring not to linger, they oriented themselves and fled onward.

Only when Fang Senyan heard the chirping of birds high in the canopy and spotted tender new shoots emerging from the pine branches did he finally stop, collapsing onto the ground, gasping for breath until he could finally catch his wind.

Compared to the previous stretch of dead silence, this pine grove seemed vibrant with life. They hadn't eaten properly since being escorted up the snowy peak, having consumed only half a fish over the last day and night; the frantic dash to escape had burned off every last calorie. Now that they were clear of immediate danger, a fierce hunger gnawed at their stomachs. After a brief search, they found numerous pine nuts. These nuts, having grown under harsh cold, possessed thick shells that would likely require a stone to crack for an ordinary person. However, Fang Senyan and Jiao Shi handled them with the ease of cracking sunflower seeds, cracking one after another. The nuts inside were surprisingly delicious, offering just enough sustenance to settle their stomachs. Refreshed, they began looking for prey.

In this kind of forest, Jiao Shi had hunting experience from the real world, so his prior trapping skills immediately proved useful. While Fang Senyan was still eyeing a skinny bird in the trees, Jiao Shi soon returned with a plump snow badger.

This snow badger was ferocious. In the real world, capturing one would demand a hunting rifle; trying to take it bare-handed would make it a toss-up whether you ate it or it feasted on you. Thankfully, neither Fang Senyan nor Jiao Shi were ordinary men. They caught it, twisted its neck with a sharp crack, and dispatched it cleanly. There was no need to bleed it; letting the blood soak into the flesh was believed to make the roasted meat more tender. (Some people in the real world prefer not to bleed butchered pigs, though this often results in a stronger gamey flavor; some consider it a delicacy—a relative of mine insists on buying an unbled hog every New Year for slaughter.) Jiao Shi’s eyes were glittering with hunger. Ignoring rest, he swiftly gutted the creature, rubbed it with snow, and set it to roast. The salt and fire source pilfered from the Orcs now came in handy. They devoured the greasy badger meat like wolves, nearly swallowing their tongues, but at last, they were full, their physical condition restored by about eighty percent. After gorging themselves, they gathered the blood, entrails, and bones—following jungle custom—intending to bury them, naturally, to prevent the scent from attracting any lurking beasts and causing unnecessary trouble. However, during the burial process, Fang Senyan suddenly uttered a soft sound, using a stick to flip through the badger's viscera and pull out a bloody object. Upon seeing what it was, both their complexions changed drastically.

It was unmistakably a bloody, mangled finger!

They exchanged a look, an urge to vomit rising in their throats, but they suppressed it, their faces ashen as they continued to rummage through the bloody mess, though they found nothing further.

This sudden discovery amplified their sense that the area was mysterious and sinister, sparking deep questions: Judging by the finger’s freshness... was someone else ahead? Daring not to stay a moment longer, they seized the moment while sated and energized and hurried forward.

After walking several miles, the pine forest thinned out. Suddenly, Jiao Shi, scouting ahead, froze, his expression shifting drastically. He dropped low, crawling forward until he concealed himself behind a pine tree. Fang Senyan’s nerves, already taut, registered Jiao Shi’s reaction instantly. He quickly concealed the Elven maiden and found his own hiding spot.

They remained hidden and silent for a long time, perceiving no movement. Fang Senyan shot Jiao Shi a questioning glance. Jiao Shi grimly gestured toward the east. Fang Senyan followed his gaze, and a chill traced its way down his spine.

A few hundred yards away, a crude camp had been established. Though hastily assembled, the architectural style was unmistakably that of the Orcs and Tentacled Monsters. Leaning against an old pine beside the camp was a burly Orc, apparently acting as a vigilant lookout. Inside the camp, seven or eight other Orcs seemed to be resting, sprawled haphazardly on the ground.

Hiding and observing closely, they realized there was another Orc camp to the west. These two camps effectively blocked the narrow passage of the valley; anyone attempting to sneak past unnoticed would certainly fail to evade the sentries’ surveillance.

Fang Senyan and Jiao Shi had risked death by madness while crossing the lake to escape the Orc pursuit, only to run headlong into such a massive concentration of Orc encampments in this desolate place! There seemed to be at least a dozen Orcs setting up temporary bases here! They couldn't fathom how the Orcs had navigated the pine forest.

They held their breath, scarcely daring to exhale, creeping backward on their bellies. Just then, the Elven girl, placed nearby, stirred unconsciously, bumping against a nearby pine.

This tree wasn't particularly thick, but it held a significant accumulation of snow on its branches. Her impact sent a loud swish of snow cascading down. Normally, such a slight movement would be insignificant, but in the profound silence of the forest, unless the Orc sentries were blind, they could not have missed the sound. Both men’s faces turned ashen; they lay frozen, afraid to move.

Yet, after a long period of tension, all they heard was the sighing of the wind through the pines, and all they saw was the solitary stillness of the woods. The savage enemies they anticipated descending upon them made no sound. Fang Senyan’s mind suddenly clicked. He cautiously peered out and lowered his voice: "The sentry hasn't moved at all."

Jiao Shi also peeked out with suspicion. "You're right. Is he asleep?"

Fang Senyan took a deep breath. "And the Orcs lying in the camp haven't stirred either."

A wild, knowing gleam flashed in Fang Senyan’s eyes as he spoke. He rose from cover and began walking openly toward the perilous camp. Jiao Shi inhaled sharply. "Could it be...?"

Fang Senyan’s face twisted into a strange, cold smile. He walked toward the Orc camp without concealment. The sentry remained motionless. Fang Senyan reached out and tapped his shoulder. The sentry, still standing guard, tipped over rigidly sideways and shattered into several pieces, like a fallen ice sculpture.

In both camps, every single Orc was a frozen corpse, stiff as ice, making a dull thunk when tapped. These Orcs must have crossed the lake, just like Fang Senyan and Jiao Shi, set up camp here, and the rope ladder left on the cliff face by the lake must have belonged to them. Upon closer inspection, both men noticed that the bodies bore peculiar, triangular wounds to varying degrees.

Curiously, the wounds were all located on the front of the torso. They were deep but not in vital areas. Under normal circumstances, these injuries could not possibly have killed such robust Orcs.

Fang Senyan and Jiao Shi exchanged glances. While they had uncovered the truth behind the two camps, they had immediately stumbled into another massive enigma. Then, Jiao Shi suddenly seemed to recall something, knitting his brows seriously. "There are still living people here!"

Fang Senyan’s pupils contracted instantly. He grasped the key detail immediately: the bloody finger found in the badger’s intestines! It was impossible to tell how long these corpses had been dead; they were all frozen solid, their skin as hard as iron, and there were no signs of gnawing by wild beasts. Even if the snow badger had been desperate enough to eat anything, the fresh, ragged appearance of the skin and flesh on that finger could not have come from an iced-over corpse.

Suppressing their fear, the two men thoroughly searched both camps. The most useful finds were some cold-weather animal hides. Though tattered, they were excellent for insulation, and the pair wasted no time pulling them on.

In a nearby wooden crate, they also discovered two bags of strong liquor... real spirits, not the blood-diluted swill they’d had before. The first swallow felt like a tiny knife slicing from the mouth all the way to the stomach, followed by a burning warmth spreading through their limbs.

Beyond that, they found a very strange wooden artifact. It looked like an overturned stool, resting on its four legs, with two long wooden poles lashed parallel across it, seemingly used for carrying something heavy. After studying it for a while, they remained completely baffled, unable to derive any logical answer.