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Mark noticed the circling vultures, raised his head alertly, and squinted his eyes to observe them. Under the gray sky, the black figures of the vultures were particularly eye-catching. They circled slowly and made disturbing calls. An inexplicable sense of crisis surged into Mark's heart. He clenched the broken hilt of the sword and looked around alertly, sweeping his eyes across the vast snowfield, trying to find the reason why the vultures were circling. The biting cold wind wrapped in snowflakes ruthlessly slapped his face, making him feel a piercing cold. The snowfield was silent, with only the whistling of the wind and the shrill cries of the vultures echoing in the air.

Soon, he found the target of the vultures - an animal corpse half-hidden in the snow. The corpse had been frozen stiff, and the surface was covered with a thin layer of ice and snow. It could be vaguely identified as a creature similar to a deer. Mark approached cautiously, taking every step carefully, and scanning the surroundings vigilantly, guarding against the dangers that might be hidden in the dark. His footsteps left a series of shallow footprints on the snow, which were soon buried by the wind and snow.

After confirming that there was no danger around, Mark walked to the animal carcass and squatted down to take a closer look. The fur of the carcass had lost its luster, and some of it had been gnawed by wild beasts, revealing the white bones and emitting a faint smell of blood. Mark used the broken hilt of the sword to push away the snow covering the carcass, revealing more details. He judged that the animal should have been buried by an avalanche or other accident, and then discovered by a vulture.

Mark took out a small knife from his backpack, and the blade flashed in the cold air. He used the knife to carefully cut off some frozen pieces of meat, with skillful and quick movements, trying to avoid dirtying his clothes. The cut pieces of meat were as hard as stone, and the surface was covered with a thin layer of ice. He put the frozen meat into his backpack, which was one of the few food sources he could find on the snowfield.

After collecting the frozen meat, Mark looked around and found a sheltered place. He collected some dry branches and bushes, piled them into a pile, and lit a fire. Mark found that the energy in his body was almost gone. If there was no energy source, he might not be able to use the energy anymore. The flames swayed in the wind and snow, making crackling sounds and bringing a hint of warmth. The orange-red flames illuminated the surrounding snow and also reflected Mark's tired face.

He put the frozen meat on the fire to roast. The frozen meat made a sizzling sound under the scorching flames, and the ice and snow gradually melted, emitting a faint meaty aroma. Mark patiently turned the pieces of meat to ensure that they could be heated evenly. The process of roasting meat was long and boring, but he dared not slack off at all. He knew that in this cold snowfield, food and fire were the key to survival.

The aroma of the roasted meat became more and more intense, stimulating Mark's taste buds. He picked up a piece of roasted meat, blew it carefully, and then put it in his mouth and chewed it slowly. Although the meat was a bit rough, it tasted surprisingly delicious, which made him feel satisfied. He wolfed down a few pieces of roasted meat, barely filling his stomach and replenishing his physical strength.

After eating, Mark put the remaining barbecue and some unroasted frozen meat back into his backpack, then extinguished the fire and buried the remains of the animal carcasses in the snow to avoid attracting more wild animals. He packed up his luggage and prepared to move on.

He looked up at the sky. The gray sky made it difficult for him to judge the time, but he knew that he had to find the temple as soon as possible. He identified the direction based on the approximate location of the temple in his memory and continued to move forward. He left some obvious marks on the snow, piled up small piles of stones with stones, or scratched obvious traces on the ground with branches to prevent himself from getting lost in the vast snowfield.

"I hope I can find some useful information in the temple." Mark whispered to himself, with a hint of expectation in his tone. He walked forward step by step with heavy steps, and his figure gradually disappeared in the wind and snow. On the snowfield, there was only the whistling wind and the footprints he left to prove that he had been here before.

Mark took a deep breath, and the white mist spread in front of him. He rubbed his frozen hands and put the broken hilt back into the sheath at his waist. The biting cold wind, carrying snowflakes, mercilessly slapped his face, causing him to feel a stinging pain on his cheeks. He tightened the animal skin wrapped around his body and continued to trek in the snow along the marks he left.

After walking for about an hour, Mark stopped. He bent down and carefully observed the marks on the ground. "The snow seems to be thicker than before," he used his hand to push away the snow covering the marks, revealing the marks made by branches underneath, "Fortunately, the marks I left are deep enough."

He raised his head and squinted his eyes to look forward. It was a vast expanse of white, and he could not see anything. The wind and snow were getting stronger and stronger, and the visibility was getting lower and lower. He couldn't even see the road under his feet.

"This won't work," Mark wiped the snow off his face with the back of his hand, frowning, "I must find a place to avoid the wind and snow."

At this moment, he vaguely saw a dark shadow not far away. He was delighted and quickly quickened his pace, heading towards the shadow.

As the distance got closer, the outline of the shadow became clearer and clearer. It was a huge rock with a naturally formed depression under it, which could be used to block the wind and snow.

Mark walked quickly to the bottom of the rock, put his backpack on the ground, and then sat down against the rock wall. He took out some frozen meat from his backpack and slowly ate it.

"I hope this blizzard will pass quickly." He whispered, looking at the snowfield covered by wind and snow.

Although the depression in the rock could block some wind and snow, the cold was still biting. Mark wrapped the animal skin tighter and curled up to try to keep his body temperature.

Suddenly, he heard a slight sound of footsteps. He immediately became alert, holding the broken hilt tightly, and his eyes scanned the surroundings vigilantly.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and a figure walked out of the wind and snow.

"Is anyone there?" A slightly hoarse voice sounded.

Mark narrowed his eyes and looked at the person carefully. He was a tall man, wearing a heavy leather coat, a fur hat on his head, and a thick scarf on his face, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes. In his hand was a spear, the tip of which flashed with cold light.