I Transmigrated Into A Fantasy World To Farm And Build Houses!-Chapter 137: Sleeping Beauty

The remaining breadfruit had been carried over by Max and placed neatly beside the tent.

Seeing the small stone mill next to the tent, along with a pile of golden powder, Max understood and asked:

"This fruit can also be ground into powder to eat?"

Eric nodded:

"Its taste is similar to wheat flour. We didn’t bring any rations, so this time we’ll have food made from flour."

"Then let me grind it."

Max picked up the breadfruit, broke it into small pieces, and began to grind the flour using the temporary stone mill Eric had made.

With the heavy labor taken over by Max, Eric squatted to the side, busily helping him break the breadfruit and taking out the plump seeds inside, which looked just like jackfruit seeds.

The fresh seeds were a bit different from the dry seed Funa had taken out; they were plumper, and their color was brighter.

He wondered if their tribe could grow them. Eric felt that this breadfruit was both larger than wheat and more convenient; grinding it into flour didn’t require complicated sifting.

Unfortunately, a fruit tree like this would surely take many years to grow, and who knows how long it would take to bear fruit.

The economic efficiency couldn’t be as fast as growing wheat.

Thinking of this, Eric again began to envy the Elves’ magic. In just a few short minutes, they could obtain so much food.

Just by looking at their food storage capabilities, it wasn’t hard to understand why the Elves were one of the most powerful forces on the Phantom Dream Continent.

The Elf tribe was extremely favored by nature. They could even hear the thoughts of plants, and they used natural magic with mastery and skill.

In the war that year between the Golden Kingdom and the Elf tribe, the terrain clearly favored the Beastmen. If that battle had taken place in the Phantom Moon Forest or the Elven Forest, the Beastmen might not have been able to occupy even half of their territory.

It was said that there were even ancient Treants in the Phantom Moon Forest. They and the Elves had a natural, close relationship and would surely help each other.

No wonder their trip had bypassed the Phantom Moon Forest. It was feared it wasn’t just because of the high-level magic beasts hiding inside, but also because of the Treants.

Eric let his imagination run wild, picturing the appearance of the Treants, a considerable curiosity rising in his heart.

... 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

The breadfruit wasn’t very tasty eaten raw or roasted, so Eric decisively had Max grind it all into flour.

The golden wheat flour was stored in cloth bags, which was both clean and easier to carry.

Seeing Michael still sitting off to one side sulking, Eric sidled over:

"Michael, later, let’s use the rest of that big lobster to make shrimp patties! Fried until golden brown and crispy, then sprinkled with seasoning powder, it’ll be incredibly fragrant!"

"Shrimp patties?" Michael asked blankly. Why was that name so strange?

He momentarily forgot all about being hit on the head with a breadfruit by Max.

There was more than half of that large blue lobster left. The meat was so soft; using it to make shrimp patties would surely be chewy and delicious.

Eric’s mouth watered a little just thinking about it. Since Michael could mince the shrimp patties, he handed his kitchen knife over to him:

"Use this to mince the shrimp meat, okay? Later, I’ll use the iron pan to make fried shrimp patties."

Delicious food was the most effective way to soothe a Beastman. Michael immediately took out the blue shrimp meat, found a clean, flat stone slab to use as a cutting board, and began to mince the meat.

This task was extremely easy for him; the soft shrimp meat was minced without needing much effort.

On the other side, Max had finished grinding all the breadfruit into flour. He put the seeds in a separate cloth bag, then stored it along with the bag of flour inside the tent.

When the animal skin flap serving as the tent door was lifted, Eric saw through the gap that the rescued youth still had a pale face, remaining unconscious, showing no sign of waking up.

He couldn’t help but feel a little troubled.

Snow Wolves had iron bodies and rarely got sick. The occasional illness could be cured in a day or two just by going into the mountains to pick some spiritual plants to eat. Beastmen didn’t have the concept of a doctor.

Adult beastmen, protected by their beast core power, were even less likely to get sick. Wounds from battle, as long as they weren’t too serious, would heal quickly on their own. If they were serious, they would go pick spiritual plants for treatment.

Human alchemists’ magic potions also had some effect on them—the higher the grade, the better the effect—but the price was extremely expensive.

Eric had no way to find medicine for him right now. Humans didn’t easily set foot on this continent in winter; even if he wanted to trade, there was nowhere to go.

As for spiritual plants, different types had different uses, and Eric couldn’t recognize many of them.

Moreover, he couldn’t even tell where the human was injured, as there were no external wounds on his body. When he changed the youth’s clothes, Eric had secretly searched all over; there wasn’t a single wound.

Sigh... Eric let out a melancholy sigh. He hoped this youth could survive; he really didn’t want to be responsible for the death of his own kind.

Max turned the youth over, frowning slightly.

After he came out of the tent, Eric approached with a tense feeling and asked:

"What’s wrong? Is his condition not good?"

Shaking his head, Max looked back at the tent as if deep in thought:

"He’s not sick. It’s more like he’s been hit by some kind of high-level magic."

Magic? It seemed this youth’s identity was not ordinary. Not only was he wearing Elven cloth, but he was also struck by magic. This experience sounded so familiar...

Eric suddenly punched his fists together. Wasn’t this the plot of "Sleeping Beauty"!

"Then is his life in danger? His complexion looks terrible," Eric was still a little worried and asked.

Max shook his head: "I don’t know. I can only tell he was hit by magic. But there are no wounds on his body. It could be mental magic, or it could be some kind of curse."

Other types of magic would more or less leave wounds, but there were none on this human.

However, mental magic or dark-system curses would usually leave a mark. Max hadn’t found any mark just now.

They Beastmen didn’t know much about magic; he couldn’t see anything more specific.

Then they could only leave it to fate. Eric looked sympathetically at the youth in the tent, still hoping in his heart that he would be safe.

Now the little snake A Mật had a friend: one hibernating, one in a coma.

Eric was at a loss regarding the youth’s condition.

He could only do what he could, stuffing the gaps in the tent a bit tighter so the youth wouldn’t get colder.

...

The abalone collected today was piled up next to the reef. Eric held his kitchen knife, intending to process their internal organs, leaving only the clean meat.

Michael, eagerly waiting to eat shrimp patties, squatted next to Eric, watching his movements.

"This is edible too? It looks so ugly."

Abalone, before being shelled and gutted, was indeed not very appealing.

Eric looked at the black abalone shell in his hand, quickly pried it open, removed all the organs, and then used the tip of his knife to score a pattern on the meat.

"This looks good now, right!"

Eric held the processed abalone up in front of Michael and shook it, telling him to get a basin to put it in.

After fetching the basin, Michael watched Eric demonstrate with a few more.

This time, he had learned the trick. He pushed Eric aside, squatted next to the pile of abalone, and used his convenient claws to pry them open one by one.

Now that they had flour, Eric could make many more dishes.

He went to get some oysters from the reef crevices and picked up a few more fresh clams from the sand.

The oyster meat was minced, mixed with flour, salt, and onion-garlic powder to form a thick batter, and set aside.

The clam meat was also minced, with some minced shrimp added, along with more flour and spices, then stirred well into another batter. This portion was for the two adult beastmen, so he made an especially large amount.

After finishing all this, the salt in the pot was also done. He cleaned the large iron pan, which was just right for making fried oyster pancakes.

Yesterday’s oysters had caused Max and Michael much suffering, so today’s fried oyster pancake was prepared only for himself. The batter was small, and when poured into the large iron pan, it made just one big pancake.

The hot animal fat met the batter, making a "sizzling" sound, and the aroma was stimulated, spreading all around.

To make the pancake thin and cook evenly, Eric lifted the pan and shook it vigorously.

The problem was, he wasn’t tall enough. When he lifted the pan high to shake it, he couldn’t see inside and could only rely on feeling to shake it rapidly.