Looks Delicious

"I don't know, I have amnesia."

Russell looked bewildered, frowning in deep thought, as if trying to recall when he had learned magic.

Aragorn: "..."

Bullshit, you have amnesia? If I still believe you have amnesia, I'm a complete idiot!

Aragorn snorted coldly, ignoring Russell, and walked toward the two black warhorses, sword in hand. They were the mounts of the Ringwraiths, Nightmare born of darkness, their breath poisonous, and they spread a disease called Shadowsickness; they couldn't be left unattended.

"Wait, Aragorn, don't be impulsive! Spare his horse!"

"What's wrong?" Aragorn turned his head in confusion.

"What kind of breed are these two horses?" Russell's eyes lit up. The jet-black steeds were robust and handsome, clearly not some ordinary, flamboyant breed.

"Nightmare!"

"Nightmare, what a name, what a name..." Russell wiped his mouth. "It sounds delicious!"

Aragorn: "..."

Hobbits: "..."

Nightmare:"..."

"A slip of the tongue, a complete slip of the tongue!" Noticing the strange looks from the crowd, Russell coughed lightly. "What I meant was that our horses were killed by the Ringwraiths. Without their strength, it would be too time-consuming to walk to Rivendell. The Ringwraiths have only been temporarily repelled, and they will definitely be stronger when they return. We must keep these two horses alive."

"Russell, Nightmare are magical creatures born from darkness, you can't...eat them!" Aragorn's expression was strange. Although Russell's words sounded like the truth, his drooling made it hard to believe.

"It's okay. I recently learned how to cook in one pot. As long as it's alive, you can add it to the recipe."

"Didn't you lose your memory?" Aragorn asked quietly.

"Are you an idiot? You actually believe this?" Russell replied confidently, casting a look of pity on someone with intellectual disabilities.

Aragorn: "..."

Ignoring Aragorn's dark expression, Russell walked over and shoved him aside, then grabbed the reins of the two Nightmare. The Nightmare, naturally unwilling to cooperate, snorted repeatedly and raised their forelegs to stomp at Russell.

Crackling sounds!

Nightmare: _(: horse"∠)_

Even the Nightmare corpses on the ground couldn't be wasted. The poor family's foodie was thrifty, so Russell took out a rope and tied two horse legs together, preparing for an extra meal tonight.

Seeing that Russell was serious, Aragorn hurriedly said, "No, putting aside whether Nightmare are edible, even ordinary people will get shadow disease if they stay with them for a long time."

"Terminal illness?" Russell asked, tilting his head.

"No, there is an herb called 'King's Sword' that can treat and prevent poisoning, as long as the poisoning has not lasted too long."

"OK, let's go find the King's Sword!"

Russell leaped onto the Nightmare, which dared to resist, but quickly became obedient.

"Frodo, and you two, you're in for a treat tonight. Nightmare isn't something just anyone can have." Russell waved his hand and rode Nightmare straight down from the tower.

Frodo three gaped, then looked at Aragorn, wanting to hear his opinion: could Nightmare be eaten?

"Let's go, the five of us... one horse each."

Aragorn was exasperated, thinking Russell was a huge trap, but he really had no choice but to reluctantly jump in. He was all talk and no action; knowing Russell was determined to ride Nightmare to Rivendell, his only thought was to find the King's Sword as soon as possible.

At midnight, the once bustling forest fell into a deathly silence; the animals that were active during the day had vanished without a trace.

But these are just normal creatures. Abnormal monsters only come out at night. A ray of moonlight shone down, shining through the lush foliage, illuminating a black raven with scarlet eyes.

Eerie screams echoed in the air. Following the scent of blood, one could find a blazing campfire and a bubbling cauldron.

Russell chuckled coldly, bringing the water in the pot to a boil. In the firelight, his features were incredibly ferocious, the impatient face of a glutton.

Frodo three companions stood to the side, munching on apples and casting hesitant glances. Hobbits known for their love of food, eating six meals a day; missing even one could be fatal for them. Calculating the time, it was just the right time for a midnight snack.

But can Nightmare really be eaten?

By the way, the iron pot was provided by them; they were only escorting the One Ring, so we didn't need to bring a change of clothes, but we had to bring the iron pot.

Two Nightmare mounts were tied to one side, and as they watched their companion being cooked, they both let out low hissing, as if they saw their own fate. In fact, they were overthinking it; Russell was concocting enhancement drugs, and unless they were really delicious, he wouldn't use them as scapegoats.

"Why hasn't Aragorn arrived yet? It's just a few herbs, why does it take so long?" Russell frowned, told Frodo and the others to watch the fire, and then disappeared into the dense forest in a flash.

In the dense forest, Aragorn brandished his sword with a gloomy expression, crouching down to carefully examine every patch of grass he encountered, feeling extremely frustrated.

"Sigh, I am, after all, the famous Big Stepman... cough cough, the famous Swift Traveler, the renowned wanderer, and I was actually sent out to find ingredients in the middle of the night. I really made a bad choice of friends."

Ahead, the last medicinal herb appeared. Aragorn crouched down dejectedly, dug the herb up by the roots, and stuffed it into his backpack.

"Finally, it's all settled. I'll never go on an adventure with him again..."

Aragorn abruptly stopped mid-sentence, a slender sword pressed against his neck, and someone appeared behind him without him noticing.

"What's wrong? The famous Swift-footed... Big Steps, you're completely unprepared."

Hearing the cool female voice behind him, Aragorn's tense muscles instantly relaxed, and he rolled his eyes speechlessly. The person who came was a friend, not an enemy; it was his elven girlfriend, Arwen.

"That's because of Shenxing... Big Steps entrusted his back to me!"

Another voice rang out, and Russell appeared behind Arwen, Adamantium Blade pressed against her slender neck.

[Bite]

[The host has come into contact with the story character Arwen, triggering Lottery Draw and granting two chances to draw. Would you like to draw now?]

Arwen, that name sounds familiar.

Aragorn hurriedly explained, "Russell, she's not an enemy, she's me..."

Russell only heard the first half of the sentence. When Arwen turned around, he couldn't hear the rest because the female elf in front of him was too stunning.

Her skin was as white as snow, as smooth as warm jade; her face was exquisitely beautiful, and her eyes were clear. What was most striking was her temperament, a fresh and natural aura emanating from within, painting a beautiful picture.

Russell was instantly awestruck. "Is this an elf? She's so beautiful!" he exclaimed. "And who says elves all have angelic faces and flat figures? That's a complete lie!"

This pi! This Pythagorean theorem! These trigonometric functions! It's clearly a deadly set of trigonometric functions!

"Beautiful lady, is this a robbery?" Russell's tone immediately changed. "That's wrong. Aragorn has no money, no looks, and no special skills. Rob me!"

Arwen: "Your friend?"

Aragorn: "I don't remember, I have amnesia!"