Wind Slope Valley is located to the south of the sacred Pate, a place shrouded in thick fog all year round. There are only less than six hours each day when pedestrians can pass through; during other times, darkness, mist, sandstorms, and hailstones as large as eggs reign here. The merchants of Haisas and Yim would never travel this road; only those who are driven to desperation would take their chances here. Precisely because of this, the snake-men do not pay much attention to this place, making it a "secret passage" to the Pate Plain now.

The northern winter is cloaked in cold, with snow on the ground three feet thick, enough to bury half a person underfoot. When the wind blows, the snowflakes on the ground are lifted into the air, rushing up from below the nose, harshly slapping the cheeks, making it feel as if the snow comes from beneath the feet.

Lynch and Zilvra are currently walking on this road. Although faced with the same plight, they are at least more at ease than other pedestrians. Zilvra's light-footedness allows her to walk on the snow, leaving only small pits a few inches deep, without the worry of sinking; Lynch, on the other hand, is floating slightly above the ground. Their clothing, whether it be the Plane Robe or the elf cloak, helps them maintain their warmth.

Of course, there are other roads leading to the northern Pate, but most of them are monitored by the snake-men. Not wanting to cause a massacre and thus expose his trail, Lynch had inquired among many caravans for a safe shortcut. However, almost every group had different opinions, leaving Lynch unable to obtain definite information. The snake-man armies are currently in a stalemate with the Paladins, with control of a particular road changing hands several times in one day. So, Lynch and Zilvra, with no other choice, decided to proceed through Wind Slope Valley.

Walking on this road, even someone like Lynch would feel fatigued from the harsh weather. Even though he doesn't need to exert muscular strength, constantly combating the ever-changing wind direction and force is very energy-draining. So, when a small copse appeared ahead, the two of them exchanged a glance and tacitly decided to rest there for a while.

The only green in the winter night is the leaves of the evergreen trees, but they are now buried under the snow. Among the plants tough enough to break through the snow, nettles grow the most vigorously. The rest are some unknown plants with leaves that have razor-sharp edges, winding around the tall trunks, emitting a stench of blood from creatures wounded after brushing against them. When the fierce wind paused slightly, though sunlight appeared, it seemed weak and powerless. The sun hung pale in the eastern sky, casting a dim light as if shadows had been injected into its body.

Even before reaching the copse, an unpleasant stench reached their nostrils. Zilvra furrowed her brows; it was the scent of corpses. Since the temperature here was cold enough to freeze blood into something as hard as iron, these corpses should decompose very slowly, perhaps remaining unchanged for a whole month. But with such a distinct odor, how could one not become suspicious?

Lynch grabbed Zilvra, stopping her from getting closer to the woods. She instinctively reached for her weapon at her waist, cautiously observing their surroundings. The mage chanted several spells, summoning a Fierce Badger in front of him. The furry little creature appeared, enveloped by the severe cold, growling quietly in anger, protesting against its unfair treatment.

Lynch pointed, commanding it to head into the woods.

The Fierce Badger leaped forward on all fours, progressing in hops on the snow. Just as it reached the edge of the woods, several vines suddenly emerged from between the branches, entangling the badger's limbs. It struggled fiercely, but such actions only exacerbated its predicament, and in a short time, the summoned creature was dragged into the depths of the trees.

"Fortunately, the death of a summoned creature only equates to an illusion dispelled, rather than representing the true end for that creature," Lynch said. "It seems those odors serve as bait, a ruse concocted by the vine monster to capture prey."

Zilvra wrapped her cloak tighter, ducking her neck slightly. Regarding such a dangerous place, she simply commented, "Let's continue our way."

But as she observed the surroundings, a creeping sense of being watched began to rise. Initially disregarding it as a delusion caused by the low temperature, plus Lynch with his Eye of Insight had shown no reaction, she paid it no mind. But as the feeling grew stronger, causing her arm hairs to stand and her skin to itch, she felt increasingly uneasy.

Zilvra tugged on Lynch's clothes, prompting him to slow down. After hearing her worries, the mage cautiously scanned the surroundings. Besides the natural scenery, there was nothing else. To be on the safe side, he risked discovery by setting multiple guard barriers around himself.

Perhaps the silver glow of the magic text illuminated part of the space, and Zilvra felt much better. That feeling of being watched slowly faded, allowing her to walk peacefully beside Lynch. She cursed the damned bad weather, the snow, fog, rain, and hail. Such things can also be found in the Underworld, but never as intense as this. Compared to the current situation, even the damp air of the Underdark seemed lovable.

Thus, they made no stops in Wind Slope Valley, traversing it as swiftly as possible. For three consecutive days and nights, Zilvra didn't allow Lynch to rest, and they never stopped to dine, merely nibbling on a small piece of elf cookies. If not for this cold food offering substantial warmth, helping to maintain their blood circulation, the two might have collapsed onto the snow to sleep—which would have made rising again exceedingly difficult.

However, even arduous paths come to an end eventually. The wind gradually weakened, and visibility finally cleared. After passing through a small canyon passage, they received one last "gift" before leaving Wind Slope Valley.

At the end of the passage, about fifty or so carts piled up together in a heap, in chaotic disarray like a junkyard. Most of the carts bore signs of damage, stained with blood. Varying in time, some of the bloodstains had turned black, while others still retained a hint of red. Beside these empty carts lay a pile of bodies frozen in ice. They were stripped bare, carrying nothing into the Death World save for wounds from blades, guns, and arrows. Whoever had plundered and slaughtered them left nothing behind.

"Zilvra, be careful, this might be an ambush," Lynch warned. "I will make us invisible; that way, we can evade their sight. However, watch your step, this place is likely fraught with traps."

Zilvra nodded without saying a word. However, her thin sword was already drawn from its sheath, held in reverse in her hand and hidden beneath her wide cloak.

Lynch floated softly with Zilvra, leaving not even a footprint. After turning two corners, they finally saw the ambushers here.

A group of brown snake-men clad in uniform armor, wielding heavy weapons, were hiding behind the rocks, ready to advance and subdue their target. The snake-men understood that once the natural threats were conquered, the caravan people would undoubtedly relax, thinking the danger had passed. However, this moment was precisely the best time for the snake-men to launch their attack.

The snake-men couldn't see Lynch, but they were hissing, trying to catch the scent of the mage or Zilvra.

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