Chapter 453: Getting the Recipe

In the dungeon of Ensis City, Patch was puzzled.

"That's not right, I just do what he likes." Patch touched his head.

Patch gave Greg, who was also imprisoned, a vicious look: "Is there something wrong with your shooting? Are you passing on false information?"

Greg opened his mouth, a little aggrieved:

"It shouldn't be. The history I studied said that Lelana followed Messermer...and Lady Lelana is very kind to me."

"Then why are we still here?" Patch said.

Tanis held up her face and said: "You have to take her mood into consideration. How can she say it in public? A girl's mood, a girl's mood."

"Pretentious, how grown-up you are." Patch said disdainfully, "You are still reasonable, mature and charming."

Tanith smiled shyly and kicked Patch.

Leda and others sat across from Patch, and the light cast shadows on their faces.

"Why do we have to go to jail together?" Leda said with a gloomy face, the straw in the prison hanging on her blond hair, her face a little dirty, "Why do we work so hard for the task, they are like traveling."

"Probably... just traveling." Roger said.

After listening to what Tanis said, Patch leaned in front of the iron fence of the prison, and the spider's belly squeezed out a piece of flesh on the iron fence:

"In this case, there should be no need to worry about safety issues. They will probably release us later. I really miss the feeling of being in prison. It was like this before. There was a rat with unclean hands and feet in that prison. "

Patch looked across the iron fence. There was also someone in the prison opposite, and he looked like a Mersemer soldier.

"Are you also incarcerated because of dirty hands and feet?" Patch chatted with the inmate opposite.

"It's because my hands and feet are too clean." The Messemer soldier on the opposite side leaned on the iron fence with a lazy voice.

"Oh, what do you say?" Patch became interested.

"I deserted during the battle," the soldier said, "because I no longer wanted to hunt for filth."

Patch smiled: "You are not executed?"

The soldier also smiled: "Probably because Lady Lelana also understands us. A group of abandoned guys still insist on the instructions from a thousand years ago to kill a group of weak people who we don't know why we want to kill. What a mission...it’s so far away and so boring.”

The Mersemer soldier took out a bottle of wine from under the weeds in the dungeon and took a sip:

"When we fought those horned warriors, it was really damn exciting. It was a fight with honor. We were also willing to kill the priests. Those priests' moves were like beasts. I don't know how many brothers there were. Die on the way to the charge. But those guys who are as skinny as chickens? It’s so boring to kill those people.”

"Why do you still have wine?" Patch glared.

"Of course we have our channels." The Mersemer soldier took another sip, "Most people in the city are similar to me, but they are more responsible and someone has to complete the task. But they don't mind giving I’ll have some wine and let me pass the time.”

"No wonder everyone looked so stupid when I entered the city." Patch smiled, "Everyone is like a child who can't find milk from his mother."

"Hmph..." The Mersemer soldier also laughed after hearing Patch's harsh words.

The two were talking when there was a sudden noise above their heads. The sound of dense footsteps came from above their heads, as if a large number of troops were mobilizing above them.

"What's wrong?" Patch was curious.

"I don't know," the Messermer soldier replied.

The Mersemer soldiers stretched out their fists and knocked on the fence a few times.

After a while, the prison guard came down, also a Mersemer soldier.

"What's going on?" the Mersemer soldier asked the guard.

"The Horned Men are coming to attack the city," said the guard.

"There hasn't been such a big movement before." The Mersemer soldier was surprised, "This time it's big? How many people came?"

"On a."

========

A residential house in Beruit, the town of towers.

Second floor warehouse.

The key clicked, and the wooden door was slowly pushed open.

Wuming walked into the dark room.

What comes into view are rows of shelves displaying bottles, cans, grains and fruits.

A tall old woman was sitting alone in a corner of the warehouse.

The old woman had horns growing all over her head, covering half of her face and blocking her eyes.

She was wearing a filthy and torn dress, which was full of holes. Through those holes, one could see the scarred body inside the clothes.

The old woman sat there, her head dropped slightly, her breathing was even, and she had fallen into a deep sleep.

Wuming stood in front of the old woman, looked around, and saw a huge lion's head placed on the altar table next to her.

The lion also has many ominous horns on its head, which is very similar to the horned lion statues that can be seen everywhere in Tower Town.

Wuming picked up the lion head and found that it had been hollowed out. It was a helmet. The lion's mouth can still move. When you move its lower jaw with your hand, the two rows of teeth in the lion's mouth, like humans, open and close to make a sound.

The sound woke up the old woman, and she gradually woke up from her dream.

"Who?" the old woman said, her voice old and angry.

"Hello." Wuming gently put down his helmet and said.

"What are you?" The old woman gritted her teeth, "Are you Messemer's minions again?"

The old woman sneered: "Aren't you tired of it? Why do you still come to me? Are you going to continue to abuse me? Unfortunately, no matter what you do, I will not beg for mercy. You can't kill me even if you come a few more times. The wrath of the beast will bring retribution sooner or later. Wait for the disaster to come!"

The old woman was indeed very angry. Wuming looked at the top of the old woman's head and felt that the raging anger was about to burst out from the top of his head.

"I'm not Messermo's subordinate." Wuming said, "I'm just a passing merchant."

"Oh? Use this trick." The old woman laughed, "Your companions have used it, I won't be fooled. I won't give you any help, don't expect to get information from me."

The old woman's sneer turned into a scolding:

"I won't reveal any of the resistance plans and hiding places of the people in the corners, just torture me!"

Wuming asked: "Do you know the recipe for scorpion soup?"

The old woman was stunned for a moment: "What?"

"That black soup, I want to know how to make it."

The old woman seemed to be lost in thought, and her old face showed a puzzled expression.

She was silent for a moment, and finally figured it out: "I understand, you want to steal the tower's food and use it to get information from others? Humph, as long as the enemy wants it, I won't give it to you."

Wuming stopped talking and scratched the horn on his head.

Lightning burst out from all over his body, and the storm swept through the small warehouse. It almost tore the old woman apart.

Above the old woman's head, a vengeful spirit emerged, spewing out vengeful spirits, and counterattacked Wuming who attacked the old woman.

But Wuming avoided the vengeful spirit from a distance - at the same time as the storm broke out, he fell heavily on the wall on the other side, cracking the wall.

Wuming said nothing, quietly watching the vengeful spirit approaching him, and finally slowly dissipated.

Then, he picked up the lion helmet on the table, took out a handful of light powder from his pocket and sprinkled it on the helmet, and the helmet immediately became brand new, with a smell of blood and incense.

Wuming put the helmet on his head and exhaled, and the breath in the helmet immediately dissipated and floated in the room.

The horned old woman smelled the breath and was shocked.

"Oh, this fragrance..." The old woman's voice trembled, "Is it the brave man who has arrived? Oh, brave man, divine beast, you finally...finally answered my prayer!"

Tears flowed from the old woman's horns, and her voice, like a poem, said:

"Horned beast, divine beast, dance for us. Dance beautifully, dance gorgeously, purify everything - purify bad luck, evil thieves, enemies of the tower... purify the sons of those evil women!"

As the old woman chanted, Wuming felt the spiritual power leaping around him, and his soul was even more excited.

Wuming lowered his voice:

"I'm thirsty."

"Oh, Yongren, it must be you. It was you who just solved the hateful invader, right?" The old woman jumped off the table happily, "Please wait a moment, I will cook fresh dishes for you now."

The old woman happily hummed the ancient ballad. Although she was blind, she skillfully shuttled through the warehouse, picked up one object after another, and began to cook scorpion soup.

Wuming stood aside, silently watching her selection of ingredients, techniques and heat.

Wuming had seen the extreme emotions of the horn people, and knew that the conquest here had lasted for a thousand years. Judging from the old woman's words, she had been tortured many times. Wuming believed that even if he tortured her, he would not get what he wanted. Moreover, he did not want to force a confession.

If the old woman had not lost her eyesight, he could still deceive her with his appearance...

Thinking of this, Wuming recalled-how to deceive a blind person.

With impaired vision, one can only rely on other senses.

Wuming looked around and saw the lion head.

Judging from the information he learned when the horned man was healing him, as well as the statues in the tower and the old woman's words, the mythical beast should be the lion head.

Wuming used the repair light powder to restore the former glory of the helmet, so that he could deceive the old woman's senses and make her think that she was a horned man, and a brave man among the horned men.

"Sorry, old lady, I don't have time to waste with you now." Wuming whispered softly in the lion head.

The old lady was still happily preparing the ingredients. The kitchen knife in her hand was a little blunt, and it was a little difficult to cut the hard shell of the scorpion. The old woman exerted force with her hand, and the knife cut and tore her hand.

The old woman put her finger in her dry mouth and sucked it, and then continued to cook happily.

Wuming pulled the old woman's finger and put it down. The wound had healed.

"...Oh, thank you, Yongren." The old woman smiled, "Please wait a moment, the soup will be ready soon."

After a while, a pot of soup was freshly cooked.

"I'll serve it." Wuming asked the old woman to stay away from the red hot pot lid, and served two bowls of soup, one for each person.

This soup is different from the previous one. In addition to the original ingredients, scorpion claws can also be seen in it.

Wuming opened the lion's big mouth and took a sip.

The hot soup with scorpion claws is completely different from the previous cold soup.

Wuming has no sense of taste, he can only feel the medicinal effect of the food, but can't taste the flavor.

But in this bowl of soup, he still felt a different taste, as if there was a soul in it, showing the intention of the cook.

Wuming guessed that intention, it seemed to be kind and loving.

He looked at the top of the horned old woman's head, and the skull-like vengeful spirit floated in it.

For Kakuto, perhaps soul-infused cuisine is not just an empty talk, it is a technique unique to them.

In addition to the taste that penetrates deeply into the soul, the effect of this bowl of soup is also more significant than the previous cold soup. Strength flows into the body along with the hot soup, making the body stronger.

Wuming held the pyroxene crystal in his hand.

The original image has been erased and replaced by a new image. He had recorded the old woman's recipes in full.

"I'm leaving." Wuming said.

The old woman was surprised: "Are you going to set off? Empathize with my anger, dance a gorgeous dance, and pay retribution to Malika's son and his minions for betraying us? Ah, mother-in-law, I am willing to dance for you, Give me a song!"

Wuming just remained silent and did not respond.

"Oh, what's the matter, Yong Ren?" The old woman was worried about Wuming's silence, "Ah, Yong Ren, is it my mother-in-law who imposes my wishes on you? Is it my lament that binds you? If you feel pain, Remember to take a break. Please follow your own pace. The people of the tower will not criticize you for this. If there is such an ignorant person, I will fix it for you!"

The old woman waved her fist, then began to pant. After a while, she said softly:

"Please come at your own pace. If you are tired, you can come back at any time. Mother-in-law, I will prepare soup for you."

"That's right." The old woman stopped Wuming, and she waved to Wuming kindly, "Yongren, come here, my mother-in-law will give you this."

The old woman held Wuming's hand, as if she had something in her hand that she wanted to entrust to Wuming.

Wuming raised his head and saw that the resentful spirit above the old woman's head had transferred to the top of his head.

What came from the old woman's hands was a vein of power. Echoing the warm current of scorpion soup in the body, it forms a special flow.

Wuming could see that this was a technique, a technique to communicate with the soul.

"Take my son with you, brave man." The old woman smiled, "Let him help you and share your burden."

"What should you do?" Wuming looked at the top of the old woman's head. He could see that the spiritual power was disappearing.

The power that had been protecting her and keeping her alive was gradually dissipating.

The old woman didn't respond to Wuming. She didn't seem to hear Wuming's words and looked straight in one direction. After a moment, she realized what she was saying and smiled at him:

"Yongren, I'm sorry, my mother-in-law wants to take a rest. Maybe it's because I'm older and spend more time in a daze. Sometimes I can't tell whether it's reality or a dream."

Wuming felt that the old woman held his hand and tightened it, trembling, as if she was afraid to let go because of fear.

The nameless palm exerted force, and he clenched the old woman's withered hand with even greater strength. A burst of warm sun emerged from his hand, suspended above the old woman's head, and slowly healed everything around him.

"Yongren, thank you..." the old woman said, "This is true, this is not a dream..."

Wuming left the warehouse and gently closed the door.

He held the crystal that recorded the recipe in the hand of the Little Horned Man, looked up at the guardian spirit above his head, and smiled bitterly:

"It's a bit of a price to pay for this recipe."

No matter what, I have to go to the city of Ensis.

Wuming left Tazhen with his hands behind his back.

Nameless, wearing stars and moon, walked towards the city of Ensis step by step, like a pilgrimage.

No longer resisting the tiredness and boredom of rushing, the speed of people traveling on foot is no worse than riding a horse.

A few days later, Wuming stood in front of the Long Bridge outside the city of Ensis.

He clasped his hands behind his back and looked up at the corpses on the spears on both sides of the bridge, identifying each one.

Finally, the body was found on a spear near the inside of the long bridge.

There are three people pierced through the spear. Between the two big-horned people, there is a small-horned person sandwiched, making it difficult to be discovered.

The impaled posture lowered his head, just enough to see the horn. Wuming recognized his identity from the position of the small horn.

The flames were still burning on the three horned men, and their bodies were almost broken and merged into one. One of the adults was the one who had carried him back to the cave on a stretcher, shouting for revenge. The caterpillar mask was still on his head.

Wuming looked around and inadvertently saw a naked bald head with a birthmark on it. It was stuck on a brand new spear, and it seemed that it had not been burned since it had just been hung.

Wuming looked along the long bridge, and saw the impaled corpses along the way, all the way to the city wall.

Every corpse is no different from this one.

Wuming vaguely understood why the characters refused to give names.

No matter who they are, it's the same.

Regardless of whether you are a bad person or a good person, whether you are a child or an avenger, whatever ideals or visions you have had, whatever hatred and anger you have, they are all inserted here equally.

Nalim is not special. There may be many people in front of these corpses who have secretly given themselves a name, thinking and curious about things they have never seen before.

Some people grow up smoothly, marry and have children, while some people make a wrong move and have their wives and children separated. Some people make a cruel living, and some people can't stand those livelihoods and run away. Some are slave blood monsters, some are furnace hybrids, and some are dependents of corruption.

But they all have the same identity, unblessed people.

Finally hang here with the same identity and equality.

Jihad is like a sieve, a whirlpool. As long as you keep sifting, those suitable seeds will sooner or later fall and be crushed by the mill.

In Wuming's eyes, ghosts lined up on both sides of the spear and pierced the spear, sighing in unison.

Wuming reached out and wiped the horn of the little horned man Nalim.

The soul entrenched near the horn was caught in his hand, a small ball, leaping, and seemed to be as lively as before. But the soul seemed to be burned and partially eroded.

Wuming found another horned man who was still not burned and looked at him. That man's soul was even stronger.

"The horned man's understanding of the soul is really amazing." Wuming murmured. He even saw a little shadow of his hometown - the world where the development of the soul has reached its peak.

"Speaking of this, those deformed mixed flesh techniques are often seen at home." Wuming touched his chin, "Could it be that those who play with souls will torture the flesh like this?"

Wuming stared at Nalim's soul and thought for a moment, then sent it over his head and hung it on his head to accompany the guardian spirit.

Wuming also collected the other souls on the string, and then burned the corpse and the spear together.

Just after he finished doing this, a voice came from behind.

"What are you doing?"

Wuming looked back and saw a group of soldiers returning to the city, with several new prey on their spears.

The soldiers saw the big horns on Wuming's head and immediately took a fighting stance, pointing their spears at him:

"Filth!"