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Chapter 202 0201: Pot, Strange, Passionate
The sun became clear, and the mist on the cliff was dispelled by the warm light.

Ken's team started to set off, everyone looked satisfied, even Bolton and his adjutant changed their sad expressions.

After all, [Witch Soup] with blessings is rare. In a sense, this is a good sign before saving the employer.

Except for Lowndes, of course.

He was carrying the [Slab-stained Stone Stick], touching the clanking patchwork plate armor, as if he still had more to say.

"That thick soup really warmed my throat. It tastes great, but the amount is too small. Why don't we take the pot away."

Lowndes muttered and walked very slowly.

Kuima thought about ways to motivate him, but after thinking about it, perhaps such a giant was more interesting.

It is too boring to just look at the snow scene while on the road.

Lanz looked back frequently.

The store manager was sitting on a twisted rattan stool, with a huge black pot steaming beside her. She looked at the back of the team leaving without smiling.

In other words, most of the witch's face was hidden in the shadow of the cloak.

She curled up her legs and turned into a mess of dirty laundry on the wicker chair, as if some kind of repressed grievance was gradually erupting.

"I don't like it," murmured the store manager, "it's not luck at all."

The Witch Soup is surrounded by magic, and any divination or prediction will be strictly restricted. In theory, if you are caught cheating, you will be cursed or bad luck by the [gathering].

"Babar thinks he's normal."

Clang clang, the bone chains above the sundries began to collide.

They are heavier and don't have the crispness of wind chimes when they hit each other.

These are all cursed things with spiritual consciousness, and the one who spoke just now is one of them.

"Facts are always unexpected, there is no trace of divination, maybe it was detected by something?"

"Idiot, the container is not responding."

"With eyesight and luck, the guy who knows the secrets of witches!"

……

The bone bells chatter endlessly, all of which are hoarse and strange sounds, like a group of mature spirits, noisy and headache.

Langz at the end of the line seemed to have heard something.

The witch sat quietly on the rattan chair, as if it really merged with the thick fabric, all the skin was hidden in the shadows, and it was impossible to tell whether it was dead or alive.

yah-

The rattan chair suddenly moved.

Langz stopped in his tracks instantly.

He turned his whole body around, then stared blankly into the distance, and even narrowed his eyes, trying to tell if it was his illusion.

The wicker chair was indeed moving.

Its originally dry base stretched and straightened, like a revived leaf swaying in the wind, and then this thing stepped forward with "slender legs".

Click, click.

It actually climbed up the escalator with the witch who had turned into a corpse, and then jumped into the tumbling soup with a plop.

"what?"

Lanz tilted his mouth, and the corners of his eyes were twitching.

However, the matter was not over yet. Immediately afterwards, the huge black cauldron stood up precariously.

Two rings extend outward like arms.

It lifted the stone stoves piled up around it, picked up the things like trousers, and fitted them to the bottom of its own pot to cover up the raging flames.

As the stone moves up...

"There are still feet?"

Lanz lost control of his expression, staring at the two stubby supporting pillars under the giant pot—this thing was originally hidden in the flames, but was blocked by the surrounding stoves.

Work on the giant pot continues.

It turned the shed upside down and turned it into a container for things, tidying up all the sundries...including the bone bell, and even took out the cleaning tools, using the surrounding snow to cover up the traces of the flames.

Lanz was completely dumbfounded.

He stood there like a fool, watching the earth-shaking changes in the already weird shop.

Except for the person who is most like a living thing, the others are all alive.

The giant pot suddenly stopped.

It raised its "head" slowly, the soup swayed slightly, and there seemed to be a pair of invisible eyes watching it on the dark surface.

Lanz waved his hand.

It was looking at itself, but the giant didn't even know where the guy's eyes were.

Boom, boom, boom.

Hugging the shed, Juguo ran away at an unexpected speed, his movements were extremely skillful and quick, and in the process, even...

"Not even spilled soup!"

Langz desperately repeated what he had just seen and heard to everyone, "It, it runs... faster than a fur rabbit, it is prey, a beast, a living thing, do you understand?"

Kuima glanced at the battle banner.

Ken glanced at Wusenbu.

Everyone in the Fern Tribe waved their hands regretfully.

The scouts came back and reported that there was no trace of the place they had just left, even the ruts they had just traveled had disappeared.

Ken instantly understood:

The witch soup meal is actually an independent space, perhaps it is somewhat similar to the Gambling Arena of the Gods or Selina's [Misty Mist].

This also explains why people are difficult to track.

What Langz saw was what the witch wanted him to see, and esoteric magic always had some strange uses.

Ken had seen it with his own eyes.

Selena used the ancient magic that can dissolve [Kopi Rock]... to light a cigarette.

The team still has to move on.

Before leaving, Ken patted Lowndes on the shoulder and said, "I know, things are weird, right? But it's true. Guys with skills are always weird and full of bad humor. Maybe they've disappeared long ago, and You just saw the vision that stayed."

Lowndes was still not reconciled.

"I really saw it, it was Guo who ran away with the shed in his arms!"

"Yeah, I see," Quema said, "the soup didn't even spill, did it?"

Lowndes felt that he was connoting himself.

Bolton drove away, passed the giant, and nodded to him, but the adjutant sitting on the other side seemed to be laughing, especially the scene described by the other party was extremely funny.

"Hey, You!"

Lowndes patted the frame.

The warriors of the fern tribe looked at each other, and then ended the matter with loud laughter.

In fact, none of them knew the secret of the disappearance of the witch.

But who really cares?
It is already very fortunate to be able to gamble on today's luck and get a bowl of delicious and beneficial soup.

This is true for the natives and mercenaries in the north.

No one wants to delve into the secrets behind those miracles, just like when admiring a magnificent view, you don't want to analyze its causes.

The complicated and confusing miracles can make people feel a little lucky, a little bit beautiful, and a little bit encouraged in a difficult life.

Even if you are unlucky and drink unlucky witch soup.

You can at least swear, and use your mouth to let yourself release a few words, which is better than being completely numb and losing the passion of life.

"Perhaps this is the charm of witch soup."

Ken was riding the wolf, and the team was in high spirits. He smiled slightly and took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air.

Before going downhill, Lowndes looked back at the ancient road for the last time.

He waved his hand, put the story behind him, and walked up the team with his legs and heels.

(End of this chapter)