Farming with Entries: From Lord to Emperor

He sighed, his coarse voice breaking the silence in the underground hideout.

"When I go collect branches later, I'll set up a few more traps to see if I can catch two more rabbits."

After saying that, he stood up, grabbed the roast meat, and took two fierce bites.

The palm-sized piece of roast meat was only bitten in half, and he put the remaining piece back on the rack.

"Let's go, don't let the fire go out."

The man left a sentence behind, lifted the tent flap, and bent low to crawl out of the underground hideout.

The wind at the cave entrance rushed in, making the fire pile flicker wildly.

"Weather's bad, come back early!"

The woman loudly reminded from behind, turned around and pinched the boy hard, then eventually picked up the meat rack and handed it to the boy.

Outside the tent, the man picked up the hemp rope from the rack, chewed the roast meat, and walked towards the snowy forest.

The snow deep on the mountains has already covered past the knees, boots crunching on the snowy ground.

He casually grabbed some snow from a tree, stuffed it into his mouth, and crunched it loudly.

Wildmen aren't so particular; they don't have strict orders to boil water before drinking.

Winter snow is their main way to replenish water.

The fire mustn't be stopped, firewood is the most important.

The forest wind was fiercer, the man squinting his eyes and searching for sturdy dead branches everywhere.

With the mountain sealed by snow, almost no dry wood could be found, only trying to select less wet firewood.

These wet firewoods must be brought back and dried so they wouldn't emit black smoke when burned.

The man picked up firewood while setting traps in the forest.

He pulled out some vine rope from his waist, his fingers skillfully tying knots.

The trap was simple—a loop placed on a snowy path frequently traveled by rabbits.

Once a rabbit entered, the loop would tighten, the more it struggled, the tighter it got.

In the end, the rabbit could only strangle itself to death.

He set up three traps, carefully checked the knots, and nodded in satisfaction.

These traps were his promise to the child, even if hope was slim.

Collecting firewood was tedious and laborious work, especially in the snow-covered mountains.

Once enough was collected, the man spread the hemp rope on the snow and placed the firewood pile on the folded rope.

After the firewood was placed, he picked up the rope end, threaded it through the other end's fold, and pulled it tight to tie it in a knot, securing the firewood.

Then the man forcefully pulled up the firewood and carried it on his back.

Just as he was about to leave, a slight rustling sound suddenly came from the forest on the slope.

The man suddenly froze, gently putting down the firewood from his back, his hand instinctively reaching for the stone axe at his waist.

He held his breath, his eyes fixed on the direction of the sound.

If luck was good, it might be a wild rabbit, a wild deer, or a spruce grouse.

If luck was bad, it might be a wild boar or a pack of wolves.

No matter what it was, extreme caution was necessary.

Just as the man was pondering, a large wolf with silver-white fur slowly emerged on the slope.

Its fur was glossy, its eyes sharp, its steps slow yet extremely dangerous.

Finished.

The man's heart raced, his grip unconsciously tightened on the stone axe.

"If I were you, I wouldn't draw that worn-out stone axe."

A cold voice came from behind the slope, a figure dressed in a fur coat slowly appearing, accompanied by a Desert Wolf.

Soon after, more figures appeared on the slope.

Beside each figure, there was a Desert Wolf, eyes fierce, teeth gleaming with cold light.

However, the man's eyes suddenly lit up, straightening his waist and eagerly staring at the figure ahead,

"Oras!"

The man excitedly shouted!

The figure on the slope was his former friend, Oras, the chief of the Wolfhoof Tribe!

"Don't call me Oras, Tucson, please call me Wolfhoof."

Wolfhoof came down, solemnly saying, "This is the name bestowed upon me by the great Saint Master."

"Isn't Wolfhoof the name of your tribe?"

Called Tucson was momentarily stunned, immediately reacting,

"Wait, you mentioned Saint Master... Which Saint Master?"

"Of course, the legendary master of all Wilderness Sacred Lands."

Prophet Bai Shuang descended from the mountain top, leaning on a cane.

Half a year of leisure in Frost Leaf Town had rapidly decreased his already limited strength, and several days of travel left him exhausted.

Fortunately, he brought enough jerky, allowing a quick recovery.

After Prophet Bai Shuang emerged, Wolfhoof proactively stepped aside to introduce, "Originally a Prophet of the White Frost Tribe, now the only prophet beside the Saint Master."

Prophet Bai Shuang didn't wait for Wolfhoof to finish, frowning at Tucson,

"Can't you see that the Beast Spirit of the Wolfhoof Tribe has awakened?"

"Beast Spirit Awakening?"

Tucson's gaze swept over the surrounding Desert Wolf and glanced at the silver giant wolf, instantly realizing,

"Really, it's actually true!"

Tucson looked at Wolfhoof in disbelief, with shock and confusion in his eyes,

"Then what are you here for..."

"The Saint Master sensed that you are sinking into cold and suffering, sending us to rescue you from the Abyss."

Prophet Bai Shuang spoke calmly.

"The Saint Master is merciful, but if you are unwilling to accept the Saint Master's salvation, we'll move on to the next tribe."

"I am willing!"

Tucson instinctively shouted, then shook his head,

"No, no, no, I am willing, but I have to ask our chief!"

Prophet Bai Shuang frowned,

"In your heart, is your chief more important, or is the Saint Master greater?"

"This..."

Tucson hesitated with his head down.

"Answer me!"

Prophet Bai Shuang sternly questioned, "Don't lower your head, say the answer while looking at me!"

Tucson instinctively raised his head, stammering, "Saint, Saint Master!"

"Very good, you are worthy of salvation."

Prophet Bai Shuang nodded slightly, "Now you are a subject of the Saint Master."

Prophet Bai Shuang waved his hand, and the attendant beside him immediately took out a piece of black bread and handed it to Tucson.

"This is a gift from the Saint Master to you."

"Is this for me?"

Tucson's trembling hands accepted the black bread, unbelievingly sniffing it heavily with his nose.

Fragrant!

Never had he smelled such fragrant bread!

The last time he ate was a year ago, but that piece of bread was scorched and had a bitter taste!

But this piece in front of him was full of fragrance.

"Can I take it back for my children to eat?"

Tucson gulped hard, his voice trembling as he asked.

"Whatever,"

Prophet Bai Shuang glanced at Tucson, "But I hope you understand, this is just the most common food in the Holy Land."

"You mean, they eat this every day in the Holy Land?"

Tucson looked at Wolfhoof in disbelief, and the latter nodded forcefully.

"Alright,"

Prophet Bai Shuang didn't like how inexperienced Tucson appeared, urging,

"Now, take us to meet your Eagle Feather Tribe's chief."