Became a cultivator and did not recognize

Shir Ali cut pieces of the snake and put them in a shoulder bag, he did not part with him for a moment. There were all his wealth. It was necessary to look around and prepare a place for an overnight stay. It's very cold in the desert at night. And the stone quickly loses its warmth. Need a fire.

"I need a place to sleep! Fire to find, eat, drink, create a place so that the wolves do not attack!" he thought.

Shir Ali went around the site, he found that it was more than it seemed at first glance. Width 10 meters, length 7 meters, the site was flat. He began to go around her, hoping to find little dry thorns, grass, branches, to make a small bonfire at night.

But alas, there was nothing. When he was completely desperate to find something, suddenly there was a noise, then a crack and finally a crash. Shir Ali participated as he flies down.

More Shir Ali did not remember anything. When he first woke up, looked around, there was darkness everywhere, then he again plunged into oblivion.

How many lay at the bottom, the little boy did not remember.

"It hurts, it hurts, the hand hurts, the head, the leg," ached Shir Ali.

He crouched, groaning, his whole body ached.

He looked around, it was dark everywhere, with his head up in a small clearance, he saw the sky covered with a large number of bright stars, somewhere, artificial satellites of the Earth flashed in space. And he was sitting on his ass, it is not known where.

Pulling a lantern from a backpack, which fortunately did not break, Shir Ali turned it on. Looking around, he realized that he was in a cave. To climb up it would be necessary to crawl along with the mine about 6 meters.

He was lucky to fall on some plants that glowed with subtle bluish color. They softened the blow so that the little boy managed to remain intact and relatively unscathed. Apart from a couple of scratches, bruises, and bruises of soft tissues.

Gasping and gasping, the boy moved along the cave, which, rather, was not a cave but a long corridor. Surprisingly, the floor, which seemed to be laid out with large stones. And the walls of the cave were smooth and sheer.

Shir Ali recalled the book that they, along with Samir-Ali, had read by their mother about "The Hobbit or there and back", there were the same caves in the gnomes, inhabitants of the dungeons and mountains. But even though he was a little boy, he did not believe in such heresy. Tales, what to take from them ?!

Meanwhile, while he was thinking about this, the road inside the cave - the corridor, led him straight to the underground river, "Shu-Shu-Shu" sounds were heard. A stone bridge with patterns was laid across the river, on the right side there were images of bats, and on the left side, there were snakes.

Having passed the bridge and the river, Shir Ali came out to a small platform, under his feet there was a crack. After shining under his feet, there lay the remains of clay jugs that broke under his boots.

The remains of iron picks, iron axes were visible. In the center stood a stone wall with three aisles. Above each was placed a stone stele with some runic words.

The entrances gaped in black. What is there? Maybe a way out? Or maybe the entrance? But who knows, the beams could also be rotted by a careless touch and everything could fall on his head? To risk or not? How to find a way out? Shining through the holes, Shir Ali saw the same picks on the ground, some dumps, and a corridor that turned sharply to the left.

So it was in each of the holes.

Probably slaves worked here? Looking for something? Maybe copper or maybe gold? Shir Ali thought. But now the main thing for him was to find a way out. And do not dream about finding gold!

Tears involuntarily flowed from his eyes, it was cold and scary. And mom and dad will worry and scold him! But sobbing a couple of times, Shir Ali wiped his eyes with his fists, he will cry later and for now, you need to look for a way out. "Gr-gr-gr" there was an unpleasant sound.

His stomach reminded him that it was time to eat. Looking around, he saw the remains of wooden beams. Under his hands, part of them turned into dust, and a part broke into small pieces of wood. He made them a simple bonfire. Searching his backpack, he found matches, tearing a small piece from his shirt. He made a kindling, which he put under fire. Two matches went out and only on the third, they managed to set fire to the shreds of the shirt. The fire passed from her to a dry tree.

Bonfire pleasantly gave warmth, red light cast bizarre reflections on the walls. Then Shir Adi thought, since the fire is burning, it means there is air in the cave, and if there is air, it somehow gets here. Then he remembered Mark Twain's old novel, how Tom Sawyer found a way out of the cave there. Shir Ali thought how good it is to read a lot! You can find a way out in a difficult situation, probably before the book, replaced "Lifehacks."

Having calmed down a bit, Shir Ali took out a small bowler hat and tripod from his backpack. Which consisted of duralumin tubes. They were light and durable. Placing it over a fire, he hung a bowler hat on a hook. Taking a flask with him, he went to the underground river and carefully collected water. Returning, the boy poured water into the pot. And then he took a camping knife and cut a small piece from the snake and carefully put it in the water. Rummaging in his pockets, he plucked a little licorice root and threw a handful of thyme, which he collected in the desert.

"It's good when you have spices at hand, you can always cook something tasty, and you can always pay off someone, something that takes up little space and is valued for improving the taste of food, ahahahaha!" Shir Ali laughed out loud, the fire and the smell of spice gave him courage and cast out the fear of darkness.

Then Shir Ali remembered the prayer that his mother had read to him, he read it, and frost went through his body, his eyes became wide open and the fears of shadows cast by the fire, the noise of the river and the rustle in the cave all became irrelevant.

The words of prayer were understood by both snakes and spiders, who were rushing towards the little boy. They retreated, guarding him around the perimeter. He was his own, albeit a man.

The bowler was slowly boiling, Shir Ali pulled out of his pocket, a wooden spoon, having washed it with water and rubbed the edge of his shirt, began to collect foam. He did this, as his mother said so that the broth was bright, tasty, not bitter. It is a pity he did not take salt with him. "Well, not all at once!" "Now I will know what to take along with salt," he said aloud.

Something clicked in his head, he cut off a few more pieces from the snake carcass and scattered it and said in the darkness loudly "Bon appetit"!

And after a moment he heard hissing and he thought "thank you, dear little man"!

Well, he hit his head, so anything is possible.

After enough time to peel the apple and grate it, Shir Ali removed the broth from the hook. And then he began to carefully eat the broth. It was transparent, but from the flames, it was a reddish hue, with beautiful greasy spots. A delicate aroma of herbs, sweet due to licorice root. The texture of the meat was tender, the skin crunched pleasantly on the teeth. Shir Ali felt a surge of strength, crunches were heard in the body. As if his skeleton was changing, transforming.

After drinking the broth and eating meat, he simply stretched out on the floor near the fire and fell asleep.

During sleep, he did not suspect that having eaten snake meat, and not ordinary, he immediately went to the third stage of cultivating the desert of a red fire dragon (see the Level Cultivation chapter in an additional chapter*.

When Shir Ali fell into the cave, an unfortunate eagle flew over him. He recently caught the king of the desert, who lived in a magical spiritual land that was in a deep lowland. The king's meat was considered magical. This allowed even mortals to break into the level of perfection of the soul.

"The meat of the king of snakes was also very tasty and nutritious!" the eagle shouted about how much prey was lost! He was disappointed! But he was lucky, he managed to save the "head of the king." So the hunt was not in vain. However, it was difficult to call it successful. Now the eagle had to look for other food, otherwise, it would be at home, his wife made a scandal. Half of the snake was clearly not enough for his wife and children. Well, what to do, "you need to fly and look! I don't want her to eat my brain, with her discontent, eh! "

He remembered recent events. On the head of the king of the sky of the desert of the red dragon, a few feathers were missing and a large scar was clearly visible. He told everyone that it was an unequal battle with the dragon from the desert of the black phoenix. But in reality, he simply hid the prosaic truth ... it was his wife who, in a fit of rage, inflicted an almost fatal blow on him. When he returned to the nest after two days of hunting, without a catch.

Therefore, the eagle looked down at the man. who carried his prey without even suspecting that this snake could cure most known diseases and increase the strength of those who ate meat.

Reluctantly, he flew the other way, looking for other food so that his wife would not be angry with him. And he swallowed his head. He jerked a little from the poison, but the poison did not particularly affect him. Quite a bit, I became not myself, rocked him, but he managed.

He was returning home with two hares.

No one but the king of the desert knew where this valley was, and their treasures could be hidden.

Overtime. Somewhere on a rock. More nest on the branch. The whole family was gathering and eating meat.

The eagle sat on a branch and buzzed.

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* https://www.webnovel.com/book / 16518108406346305/45365960709828432 / Time-Traveling-Foodie / Level-of-cultivation