"Then are you going to put our flag on the ice wall? I only know that if you don't let the bald sheep get some food, I might have to watch you fight the Winter Wolf!" Spalako lay on his blanket and looked a little weak.

The effect of the blessing technique passed very early. Even the powerful barbarian rolled hundreds of snowballs in a few hours and threw them into his companions on the snow wall. Then he dragged back many fresh or withered trees with the dwarfs, and felt that his whole body was exhausted. Therefore, he now has the right to lie on the blanket to restore his strength as much as possible, so he can reserve combat power for battles that may come at any time.

It is not a wise idea to spend a lot of physical energy to do these physical work at this time, but it cannot be denied that after the renovation of the small valley, their safety has been improved by several times.

"Okay! OK! Poor Aladdin is cooking for the savage man with Titan stomach bag! I really hope these three poor little wolves can hold on until the blizzard stops..." The half-lag man was busy working. He first opened one of the winter wolves and carefully peeled off its fur. Then he handed the snow-white wolf skin to the elves who were cutting wooden arrows with a large number of branches, and asked him to use a few of the cut wooden sticks to support the wolf skin and put it in the corner of the cave to dry the bardo.

Magic beasts like Winter Wolves are naturally immune to cold. Their thick fluff can isolate extremely low temperatures, so cold spells do not work for them in battle. Their fur is also sold at an extremely high price in some armor stores on the Star Continent because of their cold magic power and the difficulty of getting this fur.

If...if, if, if they could go back alive, the adventurers might be able to make a fortune by relying on these winter wolf furs.

Then Aladdin opened the internal organs of the winter wolf, wrapped and cut off one of the left lung leaves, which were a bit stiff and thick and cold, with a piece of fur. The lung leaves were filled with full cold liquid, which was a source of a special breathing ability of the winter wolf and could be used as a spell casting material. Because the winter wolf's group habit is difficult to get, it is quite precious.

When the winter wolf encounters danger or critical moments in the battle, it can squeeze the lung lobe and release this refrigerant-like liquid, which converts the air in the lungs and sprays it out, forming a strong freezing air. Once it is sprayed, it is likely to be frozen into an ice sculpture!

Fortunately, this liquid forms quite slowly in the body of the Winter Wolf, and when it releases the frozen air and breathes, the Winter Wolf itself is also very painful. Although it will not hurt itself, imagine that the entire internal organ is instantly cooled to below freezing point, and it will not be easy to get there. Therefore, except for the critical moments, the Winter Wolf usually does not cast it easily. The attacks of the adventurers just now were too rapid, and they were caught off guard. Fortunately, the Winter Wolf was not desperate and spit out the frozen air.

The elves and dwarves raised a bonfire in the open-air yard outside the cave, and piled up a large amount of firewood around and roasted it to the moisture in the damp firewood. They put part of it into the fire and burned it into semi-charred charcoal, and then put it into the cave to use it, avoiding everyone being blocked in the cave and smoky fire.

Lying on the blanket, Spalaku was resting, seeing the Oriental man holding his knees beside the fire, looking very decadent, and he couldn't help but wonder: "Pastor Zemur, what's wrong with the Oriental boy? The sequelae of the 'Blood Curse' is very serious?"

"Maybe the blood curse has caused great damage to him, right?" The old pastor Zemur shook his head, saying that he did not know the "spells" of the East very well, but just looked at the Oriental people with concern.

"I hope he can recover when the next wave of winter wolves attacks, otherwise we may not last long!" Obviously, the old pastor gradually began to believe in the East's "blood curse".

The barbarian, on his arms indifferently, said, "Don't worry, in such a ghost weather, do you think we can still go back alive? Maybe we will all be eaten when the winter wolf comes again!"

"It's a pity that my spell position has been used up today and has not recovered yet. Otherwise, maybe casting a level 1 'Healing Minor Injury' to him would make him feel better..." The old priest sighed slightly. He was just a second-level priest, and could only cast 4 level 0 spells and 2 level 1 spells every day. In the battle just now, he had exhausted all the spells that his energy could support today.

The caster after exhausting his energy will be quite tired, but everyone is very tired because they know that if they don’t hold on, death may come early, but everyone tries not to consider this to avoid falling into despair and going crazy.

Although death is common for adventurers, the taste of waiting for death is very uncomfortable. Now they can only hold on to the last glimmer of hope and can persevere until the snowstorm stops. Other adventurers who still survive in the wasteland can see the smoke and fire emitted by their specially baking wet wood in the yard and come to rescue!

After putting away the "Stopper Scroll" that he had sorted out several times, the old priest stood up and walked to Lin Jia. After observing his injuries, he gently patted Lin Jia's shoulders that had been shrinking into a ball and staring at a small plastic medicine bottle in his hand, and said gently: "Oriental, will my magical technique conflict with your Dongfang's 's spell'? Are you having a headache because of the wound on your head? I can barely cast a level 0 "Healing Slightly Injury" magical technique, which may help you relieve the wound on your head..."

The ability to cast a level 0 "microtherapy" is also due to the tobacco given to the old priest by Lin Jia. In the afternoon, in order to restore his "energy", the old priest smoked two cigarettes for praying and meditation. With the help of the cigarettes' meditation and concentration, his prayer and meditation effect is quite good, and his energy recovery speed has also been slightly improved. Now he can barely cast a level 0 magic trick.

The wound on Lin Jia's brain was not deep, but he was photographed by himself with rock blocks. However, his frustration was not because of the small wound that could only be considered a swelling... When the old pastor mentioned his "headache", the lifeless Lin Jia's originally dull eyes lit up, and suddenly stood up excitedly and shouted: "Ah! I understand! It's a magical art! It's a magical art! So I won't have a headache!"

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Chapter completed!