Lu Mingfei did not try to force his way up that vertical wall of ice. He walked along the foot of the mountain for a while and found a path in the folds of the iceberg—a narrow valley, like a crack split down the middle by some enormous force.
Serpentine monsters lurked in the valley.
The things were grotesquely shaped. Some were seven or eight meters long, others four or five, their bodies covered in damp, cold scales, their eyes all Golden Eyes. They poked their heads out from cracks in the rock, hissing and flicking their tongues, as vicious as a pack of wild dogs that had gone hungry for half a month.
But compared with the Dead Servant He Xiaomeng in the tunnel, these things could only count as little pets. Lu Mingfei had even killed that Dead Servant refined from a Dragon King's corpse, so naturally he was not afraid of these long worms. He did not even activate dragon-scale mode, just pushed straight through with his combat knife, mowing them down like grass. The monsters' blood splattered across the ice walls and quickly froze, dyeing the entire valley red.
After he passed through the valley, the view ahead suddenly opened up.
An old classical line inexplicably popped into Lu Mingfei's mind: At first it was extremely narrow, barely allowing a man through. After several dozen more steps, it suddenly became bright and open.
Behind the iceberg was a forest.
It was not a northern coniferous forest, but a tropical rainforest whose canopy blotted out the sky. The trees were absurdly tall, and vines hung down from their crowns like countless green snakes. The air was thick with a smell that was humid and rotten, yet carried the fresh fragrance of plants.
Lu Mingfei stood in the