160: Chapter 160 Resting on the Ice Field

The six-meter Commander Statue knelt dead in the center of the icefield.

Its giant axe was embedded in the shattered ice surface, the thick handle still trembling slightly from the aftershocks.

Dozens of heavy-armored knights it had crushed itself lay scattered around, reduced to ice shards and broken armor.

Zhao Mengmeng lay prone on the edge of the ice pit, half her face covered in frost and snow.

The crossbow in her hands was empty.

She stared at the motionless bronze giant and squeezed a sentence out of her throat: "This thing has finally clocked out."

Lin Ye slid down against a ruined wall, drained of energy.

A thin layer of ice had just formed over the gash on his right hand, which was a bloody mess.

He didn't force himself to stand.

The stabbing pain deep in his brain pushed outward in waves along his optic nerves.

Zhao Mengmeng pursed her lips, reached out to grab his uninjured left forearm, and forcibly hauled him up from the pile of ice shards.

"Can you still move?"

"Yes."

"Can you walk a few steps?"

"Depends on whether you're going to help me."

After Lin Ye steadied himself, he looked toward the entrance of the Tomb of Soldiers.

A hundred meters away.

The tough guy from Russia had a jagged streak of blood on his outer thigh, his body half-hidden in the shadow of a broken shield wall.

Ivan pressed his elbow slightly, pulling the broken bone pick in his hand back by half an inch.

Palm facing outward, he gestured a truce toward Lin Ye.

Lin Ye looked away.

Ivan found a wind-sheltered corner and laid the broken pick across his knees.

He tore off a piece of dead meat covered in ice shards and chewed it raw, expressionless.

In the Tomb of Soldiers, there was only the bone-chilling wind; he didn't even dare to light a fire.

The Great Xia Live Stream was filled with exclamation marks.

[The Russian guy looks stunned, right? He doesn't even know how to dodge anymore.]

[I thought Brother Eye was going to be flattened into a pancake just now, but then he pulled out a broken box and smashed through the core!]

[Others risk their lives in dungeons; Brother Eye relies on physical defense-breaking and cheat-like micro-management.]

[The Russian tough guy next door is gnawing on ice cubes, while our Brother Eye didn't even lose his pot; the contrast in style is just too brutal.]

Lin Ye lifted his chin, pointing to a deep depression behind the wreckage of the Commander Statue.

The broken giant bronze arm happened to block the view of the path ahead.

Lin Ye rapidly opened and closed his Left Eye.

There was no blinding red light on his retina.

"Go over there."

Zhao Mengmeng dragged her backpack and followed: "Is it safe?"

"For now."

"For now is fine; if I could lie down for three seconds right now, it would feel like a holiday."

The two stepped over the bronze fragments covering the ground.

Lin Ye used his bone blade to flip over the shattered core powder; with no color flashing in his eyes, he sheathed his blade.

The edge of the half-sectioned Frost-Patterned Stone Box was severely cracked.

The dark gold luster remained, but the structure was severely damaged.

Zhao Mengmeng glanced at it: "It's cracked like this; can it still be transmitted back to the Blue Star?"

"As long as it can fit completely into the transmission frame, it'll be fine."

"You just used it as a hammer."

"Hammers have their archaeological value too."

Zhao Mengmeng was choked by his words: "Is that how you guys in the Archaeology Department usually explain things to your professors?"

"Depends on the professor's temper."

The two huddled into the recessed shelter.

The terrain was low, finally cutting off the chaotic wind swirling along the ground of the icefield.

Lin Ye used the Fire Axe to smash open the frozen layer under their feet.

Beneath it wasn't a stone slab, but black, withered branches frozen brittle.

Zhao Mengmeng perked up: "Does the Sixth Floor provide firewood too?"

"Probably left as funerary objects for the dead."

"Don't say that; I just started to feel warm and you made it cold again."

Lin Ye dug out a bundle of broken wood.

His Left Eye scanned them, and he picked out a few pieces of scrap wood covered in dense gray spots.

Without the suppression of the blue ball algae, he couldn't burn highly polluted fungi in a confined space.

The flint struck repeatedly.

A few clean twigs were ignited, the flames struggling to leap upward.

Zhao Mengmeng pressed herself against the fire.

The firelight baked the moisture out of her frost-covered eyebrows, and her frozen, pale-blue cheeks finally flushed with an orange-red glow.

The broken aluminum pot was placed on the black stones.

The bottom of the pot was pitted and scarred by the acid from the Fifth Floor, and the rim even had a gap.

But that didn't stop it from holding water.

A few clean ice cubes were thrown into the bottom of the pot.

The gurgling sound of boiling water drowned out the sound of the wind outside.

Zhao Mengmeng subconsciously swallowed her saliva: "Brother Lin, I'm so hungry right now I could gnaw on the Commander Statue's axe."

"The rust will hurt your teeth."

Lin Ye took out the little remaining rock sheep jerky.

He casually picked out two pieces of firm, fatty meat without gray spots from the tattered bag he had snatched from the Sakura Country Challenger.

Zhao Mengmeng saw the meat and didn't shy away at all.

"Those two useless guys finally left something useful behind."

"They used their lives to scout the path for us, and their bags to provide us with an extra meal," Lin Ye commented.

He cut the meat into chunks with the bone blade and put them into the pot.

The last piece of snow-armored badger fat fell into the boiling water.

The snow-white grease immediately melted.

A handful of coarse salt granules was sprinkled in.

The rich aroma of meat, carried by the heat, instantly filled the entire ice cellar.

Zhao Mengmeng hugged the empty bone tube tightly, her body leaning forward uncontrollably.

The barrage in the Great Xia Live Stream immediately changed direction.

[Wilderness Michelin Sixth Floor Branch is officially open for business!]

[The broken pot is a hero! It survived spores, blocked poison arrows, and now it can even stew meat!]

[Who was it that posted comments mocking the Great Xia contestant for carrying a broken pot? Come out and starve!]

The livestreams of Russia and other foreign networks fell into an eerie silence.

The remains of Takahashi and Sato, crushed into meat paste by the ice sculpture, were still frozen on the square.

They tried to stab them in the back, but didn't even touch the hem of the Great Xia people's clothes, instead contributing a meal of top-quality fatty marbled meat.

"Slow down," Lin Ye reminded her.

"I can't; my stomach is rebelling." Zhao Mengmeng gulped down a mouthful of boiling soup, gasping from the heat.

Lin Ye also picked up a bowlful.

The scalding hot liquid slid down his esophagus, pulling the chill out of his bones bit by bit.

The rock sheep meat was soaked in grease.

After the dried meat from the Sakura Country bag was boiled soft, it carried the most primitive salty aroma of salt.

Zhao Mengmeng finished three bowls in a row.

Only then did she toss the empty quiver aside.

"The wooden arrows are gone, and the last alloy arrow is ruined too."

"Then should I use the empty crossbow to smash things later?"

"You can smash the small ones," Lin Ye said.

"What about when we encounter big ones?"

"Hide behind me."

Zhao Mengmeng looked up at him: "I love hearing that, but your hands are shaking so much you can barely hold your bowl."

Lin Ye looked down.

The back of his hand was stained with semi-coagulated blood.

If it hadn't been for that Wind-Chasing Claw in mid-air just now, he would most likely be embedded in the ice wall as an ice sculpture specimen by now.

"Rest for fifteen minutes."

The two quickly finished everything.

Zhao Mengmeng used her fingernails to scrape the bottom of the pot clean, not leaving a single drop of oil.

Lin Ye took off the Dark Weaver.

The metal casing was completely deformed.

He pressed the mechanism, and the high-frequency engine inside emitted a rough, grating sound of gears grinding.

It was at its limit.

It couldn't be used many more times.

The light screen popped up in his Right Eye.

[Damaged Frost-Patterned Stone Box]

There was no other description after this line.

In the true vision of his Left Eye, the edge of the broken box still revealed a faint dark gold color.

Lin Ye pulled over a thick animal skin, wrapped it tightly layer by layer, and stuffed it into the shock-proof compartment at the very bottom of his backpack.

"Is this thing worth more than a Molten Crystal Core?" Zhao Mengmeng asked.

"Not sure."

"Every time you say you're not sure, it ends up being quite valuable."

"You have a good memory."

"I have a good memory for grudges, too."

The fire had burned down to red coals.

The two covered the remaining ashes with ice, smothering all open flames and smoke at the bottom of the pit.

When they stood up, Lin Ye turned his head and scanned the distance.

Ivan from Russia was still huddled behind the collapsed giant shield.

He didn't approach, nor did he make a sound.

Lin Ye didn't intend to pay him any mind.

Carrying the Fire Axe with the rolled edge, he stepped on the ice shards covering the ground and walked toward the end of the Tomb of Soldiers.

An eight-meter-high frosted gate blocked the way ahead.

The solid wood bolt was firmly encased in solid ice.

From behind the gate, a strange, loud noise emerged.

It wasn't the wind.

It was the echo of rushing water, surging and crashing in a confined space.

Zhao Mengmeng stood in front of the gate, her nose twitching.

"Damp smell."

"Yeah."

"Frozen like a dog on the last floor, drowned like a fish on the next?"

"The fish probably won't welcome us either."

Lin Ye raised the Fire Axe and struck the ice on the bolt with all his might.

With the first strike, ice shards splattered everywhere.

With the second strike, the bolt, a mix of iron and wood, cracked.

With the third strike, the bolt snapped.

Zhao Mengmeng used the Wind-Chasing Claw to hook the broken bolt and pulled hard outward.

Crack.

The last obstacle fell away.

The two pushed the heavy gate together.

Amidst a muffled grinding sound, the gate shifted inward.

An unusually damp, fishy-smelling mist slammed into their faces.

Darkness swallowed the space behind the gate.

In front of his right eye, a semi-transparent light screen lit up faintly.

[Seventh Floor: Ghost Mist Shipyard]