The Offen Mountains

For several days after leaving the forest in the Northern Countries the Offen Mountains, the caravans encountered no further trouble until they were almost inside the Offen Mountains when they met a few ordinary monsters. However, Lancelot quickly dealt with them all by himself. He was indeed very strong. Whether it was the time he encountered the tiger-shaped monster or this time when he single-handedly annihilated a small group of monsters Galan could feel that the strength of his opponents was no less than his own.

Lancelot returned to the carriage and looked at Galan, who had been watching him. He knew Galan was a warrior, but he had never seen Galan fight and couldn't figure out his strength yet. But perhaps because of his identity as Apothecary, he felt that he wasn't much stronger than Garan.

After all, how could someone who's busy concocting medicine every day have so much time to practice martial arts?

Because of the increased altitude, during the caravan's rest stops, Galan could directly see the thick snow on the mountaintop.

If one can ignore the inherent dangers, it can actually be quite a fascinating sight.

He sat by the fire, watching the hot soup simmering in the pot, and thought to himself.

After stirring the pot clockwise a few times, I tapped it lightly on the side to indicate it was hot soup. Actually, I added some wild vegetables, but no other seasonings. I don't know how it tastes, but it smells pretty good.

He happily left a large cup, held it in his hands, and felt the tingling heat that made his whole body tingle.

In this freezing cold, it feels so good to have a hot drink!

"Galan's here!"

It's so cold here! Let's keep up the good work for the next few days and get out of these mountains soon!

Frog sneezed and walked over from a distance. His black wool coat fluttered behind him, and his scarf was wrapped tightly around his face, making him look very cold.

He rubbed his hands together, pouted, and blew air into his palms as he sat down next to Galan.

Lancelot followed closely behind, wiping the snow off the ground beside him and plopping down on it, the heavy armor clanging loudly.

It seems that even wearing armor, you can still get a chill on your backside from the snow.

Galan blew on the hot soup in his cup, took a few small sips, and curiously looked at the two people sitting opposite him.

After spending the last two weeks together, he had become familiar with many people in the caravan, and even often drank and chatted with Kefa, gaining a general understanding of their status and influence within the group.

It's quite intriguing, really. Despite being in an employer-employee relationship, he sees these two as inseparable brothers. Even when he's with them, he doesn't feel any distance between them. Although Frog does seem quite outgoing and occasionally has a cheeky personality, he would definitely be the kind of person with good interpersonal relationships in the modern world.

But to be able to get along so well with someone like Lancelot, one can only imagine how much effort Frog put into it.

"Speaking of which, I've never traveled this road before. Is it very far to [Äußerst]?" Galan asked. "It's not particularly far. It depends on the weather. If the weather is good, it should take about a week to get there. At the very least, we'll be out of these snow-covered mountains. I can at least enjoy the snow in winter, but in this godforsaken place, I'm just... ugh!"

Frog sneezed again.

It was indeed very cold here, but fortunately, Galan had worn many clothes before she came here, and she had just put on an extra woolen coat from the caravan. Now she could comfortably sit by the fire and warm herself up.

"It smells so good! I'll get some too."

Watching Galan sip his hot soup, Frog felt a pang of envy.

Although he was extremely wealthy—even richer than the nobles of Rogley, according to Galan's understanding—he showed no aversion to the almost tasteless herbal soup. He seemed to be no pampered child. He found a ceramic bowl nearby, filled it to the brim, and then unhesitatingly shoved it into his mouth. "Ah! It's so hot!"

"Of course it'll still be hot if you don't cool it down... The weather isn't cold enough to freeze it right out of the pan..."

Lancelot looked at him with an expression as if he were an idiot, after all, this guy hadn't been serious at all since earlier.

"Too."

He seemed oblivious to everyone's reactions, blowing on the air twice before taking small sips like Galan had done earlier. "Hmm... it's too bland."

"After all, there's no seasoning."

"If I had known you were going to do this, I would have had some spices sent over."

"It must be very expensive, in a place like this?"

Garland smacked his lips twice, as if still savoring the memory of how bland it had become... He missed the days he spent living in Rogley, or more precisely, the days when Duncanlia was always by his side. Just then, footsteps sounded from the distant snowfield. The group turned around and saw Kfa rushing over anxiously. "Boss! Shock has passed out again, and he has a high fever. Garland, you should go check on him too!"

Seeing that not only Frog and Lancelot were there, but also Galan sitting to the side Kefa felt like he had found a savior. He knew that Galan was Apothecary and must know some medical skills. The expression on his face was as if he couldn't wait to drag him over.

"Xiuke?"

Upon hearing this name, Galan was somewhat surprised. The man he mentioned, who had been in shock, was the one Xiuke had saved with the medicine that day. Because of his rescue, the three of them often chatted together on the road, and their relationship quickly grew closer.

Galan put down his cup, stood up, and was about to go see what was behind him when Lancelot and Frog exchanged a glance and followed.

"Didn't he treat the wound properly as I told him to?"

"Maybe they felt it wasn't worth worrying about such a small injury... After all, they recovered almost completely after taking your medicine, and the scar isn't big. It's not like they haven't been injured before..."

"This guy..."

Galan was somewhat speechless. The wound the monster had inflicted on him was deep, and even though his potions and magic were incredibly powerful, pulling him back from the brink of death, the wound hadn't fully healed. He'd specifically instructed Garan to disinfect and care for it properly when he treated it before. What a stubborn brat!

Galan lifted the door curtain and followed Kefa into the caravan's temporary tent. Inside, several mats served as beds, Xiuke was lying on the innermost one, his face flushed, occasionally letting out a breath.

It looks like it's really badly burned.

Galan touched his forehead roughly, then lifted the blanket to look at his previous wounds.

Was the fever really caused by a sudden drop in temperature and the wound not being properly treated?