Landlord in the Arctic-Chapter 51: Fire Seed

The rock face of Beheading Cliff was steep and smooth, like a giant mirror. The only way to reach the summit was to pass through the Melted Snow River Valley and climb the mountain from the side.

The Melted Snow River Valley was about a hundred meters wide, its river covered by a thick layer of ice. This ice looked solid, but danger lurked beneath it.

When a flowing river freezes over, the water level can fluctuate with the volume of water, creating vacuum pockets beneath the ice.

Over time, the river water erodes these pockets, forming ice holes of various sizes. They were impossible to see from the surface, as a thin layer of ice would form over them. One wrong step into an ice hole would have dire consequences.

A layer of snow covering the frozen river surface raised the danger level several notches.

The two walked slowly across the ice. Nash went first, probing the way with a wooden stick, which had become their only safeguard.

Nash carefully prodded the ice with the stick, testing its thickness and solidity. Only when he was sure it was safe would he wave for Feng Mountain to follow.

The crisp sound of the stick hitting the ice echoed with particular clarity in the empty valley.

Just moments ago, Feng Mountain had watched as Nash’s stick broke through the ice. With the sound of shattering ice, a hole a meter in diameter appeared.

Feng Mountain leaned over the ice hole. The clear, pure water had an ethereal beauty against the backdrop of the ice. ’But if I slipped and fell in,’ he thought, ’it would be bone-chillingly cold.’

And so, one behind the other, the two crossed the Melted Snow River Valley and entered the snowy mountain region of the Crown Territory.

The view of the snowy mountains was even more stunning up close than it had been from the air. Towering peaks surrounded them, forming a natural city wall of ice and snow.

In the middle, however, was a flat river beach. As far as the eye could see, huge chunks of ice and rock were scattered about like carelessly discarded chess pieces on the silent land.

The largest of these ice and rock chunks were as tall as a three-story building, while the smallest were the size of a table.

The ice blocks sparkled dazzlingly in the light. Some were crystal clear, while others were laced with fine cracks. The rocks were also varied in shape, some sharp and angular, others smooth and rounded.

However, the temperature inside the snowy mountains was even lower than on the Tundra. The bone-deep chill felt like countless ice needles piercing the body.

As they ventured deeper onto the river beach, Feng Mountain noticed that many of the ice blocks had a crystalline blue hue.

’My first thought was how beautiful it was. My second was how cold it was.’

He tightened the fur coat around himself, but still couldn’t ward off the all-pervasive chill.

With every breath, the white vapor of his exhalation condensed into frost on his eyebrows.

Feng Mountain guessed it was because of this Snow Mountain Range. The surrounding peaks, towering into the clouds, acted like an icy barrier, blocking warm air currents and trapping the cold within this area.

"Khilla!" Nash had found a path leading toward Beheading Cliff. It was less a path and more of a relatively gentle slope.

The two of them shouldered their gear and the satellite terminal and began to climb.

The slope was at a 60-degree angle. Its surface was covered in snow, beneath which lay fine gravel that was easy to slip on. Every step required extreme caution.

To keep Feng Mountain from falling, Nash tied them together with a rope.

With every step, they tested the ground for a stable foothold. The slightest bit of excess force sent stones rumbling and clattering down the mountain, the sounds jarringly loud in the silent, empty snowscape.

After nearly an hour, they finally reached the summit of Beheading Cliff. Exhausted, they sat on the ground, gasping for breath as their sweat instantly froze in the frigid air.

’And this is just a small mountain on the edge of the Snow Mountain Range,’ Feng Mountain thought. ’Climbing the three main peaks would be even harder.’

After resting for a moment, Feng Mountain got up and walked to the edge of Beheading Cliff. The biting wind cut at his cheeks like a knife as he stared straight down at the Glacial River Beach below.

The view from the summit was completely different from the one below.

From below, it was a river beach carved out by meltwater, with enormous chunks of ice and boulders piled together in disarray.

But from the summit, looking down, it was another breathtaking sight.

Guarded for eons by the surrounding, continuous ring of towering peaks in the Snow Mountain Range, falling rocks, glaciers, and meltwater had, through geological changes, formed a vast river basin below.

At that moment, a bold idea sparked in Feng Mountain’s mind.

’What if I used Witchcraft to transform this river basin into fertile land?’

’The massive blocks of ice and stone would be no problem for Witchcraft, and the barren soil could also be improved with it.’

In his dreams, Feng Mountain had personally witnessed his ancestor, Feng Meng, use Witchcraft to move mountains, carve out earth, and shift rivers to build a comfortable and safe environment for his tribe.

However, using large-scale Witchcraft required not only Soul Power, but also the support of a tribe’s Fire Seed.

Suddenly, Feng Mountain raised his right hand, recalling the last words of his ancestor, Feng Meng.

"The seeds of the future are buried in the soil of the past."

’Could it be that my ancestor already knew that I, his future descendant, would ignite the Fire Seed of the Houtu Tribe?’

In his dreams, Feng Mountain had traveled far and wide with his ancestor, visiting many tribes.

Each tribe had its own Fire Seed, and their functions varied. Some tribes’ Fire Seeds could grant their people the strength of beasts, some could make their people immune to all poisons, and others could heal their people of sickness and disaster.

The Fire Seed of the Houtu Tribe, however, granted its people peace and prosperity. Within the light of its flame, upon the earth, all things would thrive.

If he were to ignite the Fire Seed on the Snow Mountain River Beach, this barren Glacial River Beach would become a fertile land teeming with life.

Standing to one side, Nash saw Feng Mountain sitting motionless on a rock and called out softly.

"Khilla!"

Feng Mountain snapped out of his thoughts. Seeing the nervous concern on Nash’s face, he felt a warmth in his heart and smiled.

"I just remembered something. Never mind, let’s set up the satellite terminal first."

With that, Feng Mountain began searching for a place to install the satellite terminal.

The summit of Beheading Cliff was constantly battered by the cold winds of the Far North Tundra.

Day after day, year after year, the wind slammed into every inch of the summit, carrying away the loose soil and stones and leaving only a hard rock face.

After this long baptism of the elements, the flatness of the summit was like a masterpiece meticulously carved by nature itself.

After searching all over without finding a suitable spot, they had no choice. Feng Mountain and Nash gathered some large rocks and built a circular stone wall on the summit, placing the satellite terminal equipment inside.

He opened the satellite terminal’s equipment case. The internal structure was terrifyingly simple.

There was a terminal data box, a satellite receiver that looked like a wok, and a portable power supply box.

The portable power supply could last for a month; when it ran out of power, the entire unit had to be replaced.

After reconfirming the stability of the stone wall, Feng Mountain flipped the switch on the satellite terminal.

A mechanical whirring sound came from the equipment box, and the satellite receiver began to slowly rotate, entering its operational state.

Feng Mountain took out his satellite phone. The screen showed that the signal reception was normal, and he immediately dialed Frank’s cell phone number.

After a few rings, "Hello, who is this?" Frank’s lazy voice came through the receiver.

"It’s me. This is my satellite phone number."

Hearing the sound of someone sipping bubble tea on the other end, Feng Mountain guessed Frank was slacking off again and immediately lost interest in talking. "I won’t keep you from your ’work.’ I’m hanging up."

"Hey, hey, wait—" Frank’s voice was cut short.

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