From a hired knight to a master of Game of Thrones

Chapter 91 The Cold Tree! Someone is coming.

The night wind was biting.

The wind made the bushes and flowers rustle as if they were alive.

The sturdy pine needles of the Sentinel tree, the thick trunk and broad leaves of the oak, and the exceptionally hard ironwood grow together in a mixed manner.

A few wild white roses entwined around a chestnut tree, swaying quietly in the cold wind.

The air was filled with the scent of resin and flowers, and it seemed as if birds were tapping on the tree trunks all around.

But even so, it cannot change the damp and desolate environment of the forest.

Tree trunks, rocks, and the ground.

It is covered with dark green moss and gray-green lichen.

Frosty leaves drifted slowly past Don Quixote, and stepping on a leaf a few steps forward produced a rustling sound.

"Let's do it here."

Don Quixote eventually stopped, not in a hurry to test the various peculiarities that the mutated tree species might exhibit.

Instead, he looked down at a gray wolf cub with yellow eyes at his feet and muttered, "Little guy, your injuries are almost healed. If you want to leave, then go ahead."

After saying that, he loosened the ropes binding the wolf cubs.

Upon hearing the sound, the gray-eyed wolf cub paused its subtle movements, such as slowly sniffing the forest air and gazing into the darkness.

It raised its little head to look at the big guy beside it, who was no longer so afraid and even seemed somewhat friendly.

"Awoo~"

The gray-eyed wolf cub howled softly at Don Quixote, then quickly took off running into the depths of the forest.

Before long, the little wolf cub disappeared from Don Quixote's sight.

Seeing this, Don Quixote sighed self-deprecatingly, "Although I had expected it, I'm still a little disappointed to see this."

But he didn't dwell on the matter for long. After a few heartbeats, Don Quixote had composed himself and looked at the relatively open woodland in front of him.

next second.

A dark black, oval seed fell from his hand.

In the blink of an eye, the dark black oval seed completely merged with the frozen soil of the North.

A breath passed.

The radicle breaks through the seed coat and sinks into the soil, while the plumule grows upwards out of the ground and becomes a seedling.

Ten breaths later.

The seedling grew taller and thicker rapidly, and continued to produce lateral branches, gradually expanding its canopy.

Two more breaths.

An unbelievable, mature tree with lush foliage appeared before Don Quixote.

"This—" Don Quixote swallowed hard: "This is too fast!"

"This is truly an unimaginable scene!"

Although he had already come into contact with many magical items.

Examples include the Dream Demon Bone, which can weave dreams into other people's dreams; the Blood Apple, which directly enhances a person's health and vitality without any side effects; the Frost Spirit Rice, which strengthens the body and grants immunity to ice magic; the magic scroll "The Ironclad Secret"; and the Spear of Courage, among others.

Perhaps those magical items are more powerful and more bizarre than the mutated tree species.

However, none of them exhibited such an inconceivable and obvious display of extraordinary power as the mutated tree species.

While marveling at the sight, Don Quixote's gaze was fixed on the mutated tree that was only a meter away from him.

It was an unusually large, grayish-white tree.

The thick trunk requires several people to encircle it, and the gnarled branches resemble giant claws, forcefully spreading out into the air.

The whole tree exudes an unnatural sense of solemnity.

The bark is as hard as forged cold iron, and even the patterns resemble the cracks in frozen rock.

What's most peculiar is the chilling aura surrounding it.

The tree stood still, yet it seemed to be silently absorbing all the cold, damp air between heaven and earth.

The surrounding frost and mist, the chill from the ground, and the cool air seemed to seep into the tree trunk, gradually being absorbed by its grayish-white bark.

But the closer you get to the tree trunk, the drier and warmer the air becomes.

At the same time, Don Quixote suddenly learned something inexplicably, as if he knew some information about the mutated tree in front of him.

[Winterwood: A superior type of wood formed by a modified tree species absorbing frozen soil, possessing three properties: iron-hardness, cold resistance, and fire resistance.]

Don Quixote muttered subconsciously, "This is indeed a very good building material, especially in this freezing north."

Reaching out to touch the bark, which resembled cracked rock, Don Quixote's gaze suddenly shifted to the soil surrounding the cold tree.

"The soil seems to have softened; it's not as hard anymore."

Don Quixote quickly noticed something and hurriedly squatted down to grab a handful of soil.

The frozen soil, which was originally as hard as stone, difficult for roots to grow, and mixed with ice fragments, has become soft and moist.

The earth color also changed from grayish-white to light brown.

I touched it deeply with my hand.

The soil now has a loose and breathable texture, neither sticky nor compacted.

It seems to have become an ordinary, usable piece of soil.

"This soil seems suitable for growing crops!" Don Quixote boldly guessed based on his limited agricultural knowledge: "If so, then this mutated tree species will be very helpful in developing the territory!"

"If there were more of them, we could obtain an excellent timber and also greatly improve the soil conditions around the territory."

"Well, although it doesn't have any magical effects, it's still pretty good!"

"Alright, that's all for today. Tomorrow, we'll arrange for someone to drag this pine tree back to the village and try using the wood to build a house, and see how it performs in practice."

Don Quixote pondered for a long while before slowly getting up and walking out of the woods.

After walking a short distance, Don Quixote suddenly stopped, turned around abruptly, and drew his sword.

Moments later, seven or eight wolves quickly appeared from the depths of the forest.

Don Quixote glanced around, his gaze quickly settling on the mouth of the lead, enormous wolf.

There, a tiny wolf cub was being carried.

The giant wolf stared intently at Don Quixote with its deep yellow pupils for a while before gently putting down the small wolf cub it was carrying in its mouth.

Then, the giant wolf lowered its head and gently touched the head of the little wolf cub.

The two wolves, one large and one small, cuddled for a moment.

"Awoo~"

The little wolf cub howled once, then suddenly turned and ran to Don Quixote's side, tilting its little head back and howling again, "Awooo!"

Don Quixote crouched down.

The little wolf cub stuck out its tongue and licked Don Quixote's hand, then twitched its nose as if trying to smell something.

Don Quixote smiled and gently patted the little wolf cub's head: "Alright, it seems you've found your family. Don't be naughty and run off to dangerous places again, or you won't be so lucky next time!"

The little wolf cub tilted its head back and let out one last howl: "Awooo!"

Then the little wolf cub turned around and ran back to the side of the giant wolf, who carried it back into the depths of Yangtou Mountain.

Baigang.

The Blood Hand Mercenary Group's stronghold.

A man dressed in a grey woolen garment looked at Warren, bowed respectfully, and said, "Sir Warren, I wish to go to Lord Don Quixote's territory and live there permanently."

"But I dare not go to Lord Don Quixote's territory alone, because I have a family behind me, and my family will go with me to Lord Don Quixote's territory. I dare not take the risk."